#o not ask me how much everything was i will just start gooping up like howl when he has a breakdown abt not beinf beautiful anymore

[valentinesparda]

hello friends!! i just celebrated my first international lolita day meetup yesterday and even though I managed to be the most awkward and autistic person there who dissociated the whole time!! here is my coord from yesterday and the one from today because i wanted to show off my new jacket i got in the mail :3

[ they/it pronouns only or i will bite ]

[nevvdrinksteaa]

favors pt. i

~~~

i think that this sounded better in my head, but i went ahead and wrote it anyways because i really couldn’t stop thinking about it. also kinda leaned into the horny vibe i was feeling, i’ve never written smut but i’ve read a lot and i think i could do it lmao

~~~

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

prompt: idea from sweet child o’ mine @macfrog (it’s amazing i suggest you read it)

you’re abby’s babysitter and mike can’t pay you just quite yet and he asks if he can do anything for you in return and you mention that you need a date to your brother’s wedding.

warnings: uhmm fluff, angst, suggestive content, i think that’s it, let me know if i missed something!

word count: 1.7k

PART TWO HERE

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Waking up from your uncomfortable position on the couch, you heard the rain pattering on the window. The cold air suddenly swarming your body as you woke from your slumber. You reach over and tap your phone on the coffee table, watching the screen light up and checking the time. 5:48 AM Mike should be home in about 30 minutes. You reluctantly decided to slowly remove the blanket, standing up and reaching your hands in the air, stretching your stiff body as much as humanly possible.

You decided to help Mike and start cleaning up the mess you and Abby made from your activities. You start picking up the crayons, markers, and pencils and place them in the pink basket you picked out for Abby hours before coming over, smiling at how she colored in the paper hearts that were stuck to the sides, picking up the loose paper and sticking it in a neat pile on the desk on the dining table for Abby to use when she wakes up. You walk directly towards the hallway, taking clothes from the hamper and starting a load of laundry. Softly chuckling to yourself about how manly the laundry detergent Mike picked out smelled, you filled up the cap with the green goop and threw it in the washer.

Mike walked through the door as you were finishing up the dishes, drying off the big bowls you and Abby used to make brownies. He kicked his shoes off by the door and placed his keys on the little hook above the light switch. He looked at you for a few moments, taking in how cute you looked dancing to the soft music that came from your phone, how pretty your hair looked slightly knotted from your nap on the couch, the shorts you were wearing creeping up your legs with every step you take.

Mike loved watching you, in the least creepy way possible. He adored everything about you, taking the little extra time he had to notice things he never had any interest in noticing in anyone else before. You were so different and he was so infatuated, interested in getting to know you, getting to know your interests, getting to know your body. He thought about you constantly, something about you made him feel like a teenage boy. He was deep in thought when you turned around, yelping when you noticed him staring at you.

“You want to take a picture? Some people say they last longer” you say smirking, crossing your arms at the brown-eyed boy.

He chuckled softly at your flirtatious comment, a light pink dusting spreading across his tired face, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You were listening to music and didn’t hear me come in.”

“It’s okay, I was just finishing up some dishes, I didn’t think it would’ve been fair to leave you with the brownie mess” His ears perked up with excitement “You made brownies?”

He faked surprise, ‘Of course, you made brownies’. You were always doing extra things, it was his favorite thing about you, always doing the most and expecting nothing in return.

You grabbed a brownie for yourself before sliding the plate over to the pretty boy. You stayed leaning against the island, smirking to yourself when you saw Mike's eyes dart to your chest.

“Abby and I made them, she said that she wanted to surprise you when you got off work”

“I swear that kid is only nice to me when you’re here,” he said, partially to you and partially to himself.

Rolling your eyes “You know that isn’t true, she adores you”

“I would strongly disagree, She told me I was the ‘dumbest person ever’ when I told her she needed to eat more than just spaghetti and pizza”

“To her defense, she ate brownies today, that's more than spaghetti and pizza”

“I cannot believe you would rather agree with a 10 year old than me” He put a hand over his heart, sighing heavily to show he was hurt by your words. “I always knew you liked Abby more than me.”

You looked at him, eyes wide at his comment. “Sorry, I thought it was clear that I liked her more than you” you paused, for dramatic effect “I never tried to keep it a secret.”

He laughs grabbing a second brownie, and moving away from the kitchen island toward the couch. “You coming?”

“I could be” you winked, smirking at him. He shook his head, thinking of all of the ways and positions he really could make you cum.

You start to follow him, scolding yourself for flirting with him, staying behind for a few seconds to click the lid back on the Tupperware container.

You walk around to the left side of the couch, opposite to where Mike was sitting. After your comment, you got nervous, thinking you pushed it too far. You started noticing the quietness that suddenly arose and not knowing what to say to make things less awkward.

Mike was the first to break the silence, “How was she today?”

“She was good, I was able to pull her away from her drawings long enough to watch a movie. We watched Coco and the end made her cry, then she called me a monster for making her watch it and walked right back to the bedroom to color” You giggle at the memory of the evening you had with the younger sibling.

“Sounds like Abby” Mike sighed “At least she’s warming up to you enough to sit and watch a movie with you, I can’t remember the last time we sat down for a movie”

You grabbed his hand, noticing the sadness that started to form on his face. “You know she loves you, she talks about you constantly, you’re front and center of every one of her drawings. You’re her favorite person”

He smiled softly at your kind words, grateful to have you there to comfort him. “Thank you”

“Of course, that’s what I'm here for”

“Technically you're here because you babysit my sister, but it does make me feel good to think that you’re here only for me”

“Yeah yeah Schmidt, keep telling yourself that”

“Speaking of” Mike trailed off, “It’s going to be just a little bit longer before I can pay you, the new job doesn’t offer insurance so I have to pay for everything out of pocket and Abby was just sick-” You cut him off

“Mike you know I’m not worried about it” he sighed and you could tell by the look on his face that he was still bothered by not being able to pay her.

It had been three weeks since you started babysitting for Mike, coming early to help him make dinner before he leaves for work and staying late to get Abby dressed and feeding her before driving her to school so Mike could get more than an hour of sleep.

You enjoyed helping Mike and loved taking care of Abby, you were the oldest child in your family, so you were used to caring for people.

Mike hated it, it made him feel so guilty. He felt like he was taking advantage of your kindness, promising you every day that it would be only a little bit longer before he could pay you.

“You know, if you feel bad you could just repay me with a favor”

Mike perked up. His mind was filling with ideas of what could fall out of your pretty little lips. He would do anything you asked him to, make you dinner, give you a massage, eat you out for hours and hours. ‘God, why was he suddenly so horny?’

“What kind of favor are you thinking?” slightly squeezing his hand that was placed across your soft thighs. As soon as the words came out of his mouth he felt like a cheap whore, suddenly nervous that he was coming onto you so strong and you wouldn’t reciprocate.

“As tempting as this favor is,” you say placing a hand on his chest “I was thinking something else”

He was suddenly so embarrassed. He quickly pulled his hand away, placing it in his lap, and looking away from your beautiful face. You felt bad seeing a pitiful look on his face, hurting Mike’s feelings was the last thing you wanted to do.

“My brother is getting married in two weeks and I need a date.” He was ecstatic, pushing his horny feelings aside, he could picture it in his head; you two hand in hand, his tie matching your dress, sharing a kiss after your first slow dance-

“My boyfriend has a work conference and he has to be at” You have a boyfriend? “and my family is so annoying if I know if I come without a date, all they would do is tell me that I’m wasting my life away and I’m going to forever be so lonely and-” You have a boyfriend? How could he not know that?

“Mike, are you listening to me? If you’re uncomfortable pretending to be my boyfriend then I could always ask someone else”

“I’ll do it” Against his better judgment, he agrees, hoping that something could come out of it

“Really? Oh my god, thank you so much!” You lean over and hug him “You’re really saving my ass”

“Anything to help” he laughs, trying to make it seem like you didn’t just stab him in the chest with a casual mention of your boyfriend.

Suddenly, your alarm goes off and you pull away from the hug. Mike felt cold at the loss of contact.

“It’s 7:30, you should get to bed” you state standing up from your spot on the couch “I’ll get Abby ready from school so you can catch up on some sleep, I’ll text you the details of the wedding after I drop her off”

Mike watched as you walked away, feeling like he just got punched in the gut. You didn’t feel the way he did and god that was embarrassing. He never had time to even think about a relationship and the first time in a long time he does, the girl in question has a boyfriend.

Mike let out a deep sigh and got up, heading towards his bedroom ready to close his eyes and forget about the miserable conversation. As he walks past Abby’s room he notices you crouched beside her bed, softly shaking her awake.

Fake boyfriend or not, at least he knows he won’t be pretending about his feelings for you to your family.

[rabbit-harpist]

O Segredo Na Floresta (episodes 1 and 2)

Thoughts on a first-time view of OSNF

To start I’d like to say that I’m just an English-speaking gal and the only Ordem knowledge I have is from osmosis and Quarentena. Which I loved, so I’m trying to get into the subtitled seasons of Ordem Paranormal now.

I did not watch the first season (subtitles take a lot of brain energy and I heard OSNF was more settled into the flow of the series) but I did watch an ‘Ordem Paranormal but very very fast’ animation!

-It was interesting that Mr. Verissimo is an actual guy they can just talk to? It felt like he was going to be much more mysterious, or a symbol for the order, or perhaps a late-revealed villain. He still could be, I really don’t know.

-It’s been a bit since I watched the first episode, but I liked the characters. The dynamic between Cesar and his father is so interesting—Christopher can’t stop him from joining the order; he’s his own person and he can make his own decisions. But he knows that this isn’t safe and he doesn’t want his son near it—I want to see them be forced to understand each other better.

-Also, that overenthusiastic police guy. He was funny. It’ll be great if he comes back later and gets immediately killed off. Talking to him also helped make me feel how remote this place is—it makes sense that something paranormal could be hiding out here.

-What happened to the first investigation team? They couldn’t have gone through the sanatorium—all those monsters will still trapped and waiting when the player team came through. There’s so much story waiting to be uncovered and I’m fascinated by the planning it takes to make a campaign like this work.

-The sanatorium was very gross. Worse than everyone kept saying Christopher was. And very creepy. It’s awful what they were doing—the critical mass it takes to get a paranormal meltdown so bad that everything is transformed must be hard to achieve and they did it without even meaning to.

-the discovery of the fused women and the spiral goop! the sequence as Liz unconciously reached for it, began tracing out the symbol, felt as if she was regaining health only to be revealed she was losing sanity—so good!

-I love Cellbit as GM:

‘Wait a minute, I’m taking out my /list of mental diseases your characters can develop/‘

The noises! He narrates calmly but any battle scene must be acted out with full monster noises and impassioned gestures. it’s one of my favorite things about this honestly

the other noises too. In the subtitles it’s all rendered as (punch sound) (growls) (sound of door opening) and it’s all him doing it

-Jyoui and calling Liz Liz-senpai and being so happy when she gives him any kind of compliment. it’s sweet. he’s great. I want him to be okay at the end of this.

-Christopher’s bad english accent. I find this funny because I cannot pick up on it (I’m bad at recognizing accents even when they’re /in/ English) but it was the focus of multiple scenes

-that moment when, after the defeat of an enemy near the end of the second episode, Jyoui, overcome by admiration for Christopher, asks to take a picture of him (holding up his phone in real life.

cellbit, very seriously, asks for a photography test. Jyoui takes an okay picture. Christopher rolls and fails horribly. He is the worst model possible.

it was just very funny after a lot of tense fighting and I really liked it.

-also the ‘gods of death eat apples’ because I got the reference and also duolingo is doing something! I know ‘eat’ and ‘apple’!

-I like this! it’s difficult to find time when I’m able to focus on reading subtitles but when I am watching they don’t impact my enjoyment much. I enjoy the characters and the vibes and I’m really interested in what’s going to happen in all the many episodes. I’ve only seen quarentena, I’ve got no idea how that works.

so cool. it’s so cool and I just want to record my thoughts to go back to. when I’ve finished the next episode (could be awhile) will record more thoughts

Thank you so much subtitle people!!!! If you ever see this I’m so grateful <3

[peoplepersonoaktree]

Is this how I reply to comments like this? Idk. Anyway~

@banana-pancake5 if you actually wanted me to answer this, here-

HOLY CRAP THIS IS GONNA BE LONG-

Hopefully not too long- I'll try not to rant too much, we'll se tho

so, the Au is your basic, “what if Mikey wasn’t able to open a portal?” Au, which has been done a whole lot, I know, but oh well. I’ve been working on it since like, July and I’ve only gotten to pg 19, so idk if I’ll ever finish it.

so, one day, in like, mid June, when I first started actually trying to draw the turtles, I started drawing a thing in this little baby sketchbook I have, based on the song “Georgia” by Jonah Kagen. And then I sent it to my friend. And then it grew and we eventually came up with this and this entire storyline. We just kinda plotted this thing out where like, two weeks after the invasion, Donnie starts getting these weird visions of Leo in the prison dimension because why not, and tries to get him back with Casey's help or whatever because he thinks that these visions mean that Leo's still alive. Here’s the original pictures because I think they can be in here-

Idk. I didn’t know how to draw clothes and still don’t 😃👍

I don’t think I’ll ever post the comic on tumblr or anywhere because I probably won’t ever finish it, but if I get to a certain point in the comic, (which is way far away) maybe I will. Idk.

*Cough* and then I also have a mini thing where I turned them all into mushroom people but that's a whole different thing-

NOW TO THE KID’S SHOW WHICH IS THE PART I’M ACTUALLY EXCITED ABOUT~

Like I said in this post, my friend texted me at like, 2 am on a school night, and was like, "Hey, hey hey... wanna write and animate a kid's show w/ me??" and I said heck yeah because I definitely have time for that. I asked her if she had any idea for what it would be about or anything like that and she did not, so we just kinda... pulled something out of the ground the next day and I ended up getting obsessed.

So, the kid's show...

We haven't figured out a name for it because we're both indecisive, which is... bad if you're trying to get something done. But we got characters and half a storyline settled!

So, the show is centered around four main characters, Atlas (A deer), Fern (A fox), Nutmeg (Mouse), and M I L D R E D (a chickadee). They're also in the post linked above.

The show would be about these four, going on little adventures, exploring the forest where they live, discovering odd creatures (thinking about adding in a few Acorn Creetchurs because that would be fun) and just living life

but as the series continues, the colors start to get more muted and the backgrounds start to get more gray, as if the life is being drained out of the forest.

one day, while exploring, they come upon this odd sort of... black goop that's spreading across the forest floor, infecting and killing everything it comes into contact with. Then, the four of them have to find a way to stop the spread of this odd goop. This goop represents pollution/deforestation, and we have a few ideas for how the goop started, one of my favorites being that it's controlled by some sort of animal spirit that grew up in a heavily polluted area and died at a young age because of the conditions and the only reason it's spreading is because it wants to be able to breathe fresh air and drink clean water for once, but it can't, because everything it touches immediately becomes polluted.

We both went into this knowing absolutely N O T H I N G about animating, so it'll probably be a few years until we're actually able to do anything with this, if we do anything with it.

That- that little animation is the most I can do with animation. That's the best I got.

[sw2-serials]

Mrs. Harris’s Concern

In Mrs. Harris and My Embarrassment, I was falling back into my old, not-good ways which I’ve really been trying to avoid… Ms. Harris convinced me that I should get a spanking (something she’s really good at) so I did, even though it was about the most embarrassing thing in my life since getting out of Junior High… (I didn’t get spanked in Junior High, just a lot of embarrassing things happened.)

She spanked me so hard - but not because she’s mean (she’s really nice!) but for my own good… still!  It hurt so much!

So today…

She calls up and asks how I’m doing… I dunno, I say… she asks if I’m mad at her… I dunno again… ‘kinda, maybe’, I add.

“Do you want to come over and talk about it?”

“I guess… if you want…”

“Maybe we should,” she says, so I go over to her house.

She asks like, do I know why she spanked me, do I understand, I say I do, stuff like that, then asks about ‘how’s your bottom?’

“How do you think?  It still really hurts!” I tell her (she beat me with a hairbrush!).  “I think you may have really injured it or something… it’s still really red and bruised.”

“Don’t pout,” she says.  “You deserved it at the time,” she reminds me, which is true.  “Have you been good?”

“Heck yeah!” I tell her.  I’m not being very polite, but I think of Mrs. Harris as more of a friend than an authority figure (except when I was bawling across her lap!) so I don’t need to be formal…

“Well, you don’t deserve having it hurt after all this time.  Do you want me to have a look at it?”

Now this is embarrassing!  I sort of don’t want to say no, because I have this (secret) crush on Mrs. H… and that seems important for some reason… but of course I don’t want to say yes!  First of all, it’s not still red and the bruises have pretty much gone… it’s more the memory of getting spanked that still hurts… plus, I’m sure she’s seen enough of my bottom… so I say that.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she just dismisses my concern.  “I’ve already seen everything… (she has, I was bare across her lap for like, forever).  “Come on, hop up here,” she says, patting the couch (the couch of shame, as I now think of it).

She doesn’t sound like she’s going to take no for an answer and I do sort of like having her take care of me… and my bottom is still sore in spots so I guess I’m not exactly lying… “I guess I have to…” and start fumbling with my pants…

“Oh, just pull them off,” she orders, rolling her eyes, and for some reason I do - panties, too (I’d stepped out of my sandals at the door).  Then I kneel on the couch before I can think about how embarrassing this is…

But I have plenty of time for that, because she looks really close… not at first, first she just says ‘It doesn’t look so bad” and I turn and give her a look.  “I mean, it still hurts, does it?”

Well I’m not going to change my story now, am I?  So I say ‘yeah’…

“Maybe because I haven’t been spanked since… I don’t know when,” I say.  “Cause it was the first time, in, you know, ages…”

“Does it hurt here?” she asks, her face like one inch away, pressing lightly.

“No, a little lower,” I say automatically.  Why didn’t I say ‘higher’!?!  So she presses a little lower and I say ‘ow’ dutifully.

“Hmm, well, there’s no broken skin, and you’ve learned your lesson…”

“Uh huh,” I agree.

“I’ve got some cream, maybe that’ll make it feel better,” she says, and I go all Jell-O-y.

Uh huh, I say.

She goes and gets it.  Probably keeps it with the evil hairbrush, I think.  Just then I realize just how indecent I am - and how indecent I’m feeling!  I clamp my knees together and try to kneel straighter, in case it helps…

Mrs. Harris doesn’t comment, she just comes back with the cream, sits down and gets her face back in my backside, saying ‘I’ll be gentle’… I blush but she doesn’t see it… I jump, the goop is cold.

“Is that the spot?” she asks and I can’t remember exactly so I say ‘not right there’… ‘it’s just cold, I mean…’

“Oh, of course.”

“But feels good,” I tell her, truthfully.

So she rubs it on, barely touching my skin, cooling my bottom (which doesn’t totally need it) and heating up between my legs, though she’s not rubbing there.  I’m alternating between enjoying it and being hit by waves of outright shame…

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

“It’s just… embarrassing,” I admit.  “Maybe I should do it…” hoping that she’ll say no, even though she probably won’t.

“What did I tell you about that?” she snaps, like she expects an answer (what she said was, I remember quite clearly, ‘Once I start using the hairbrush on your bare buns, embarrassment will be the last thing you’ll worry about’.)

“Ummm…” I stall.

“Not to worry about it, I’ve seen a girl’s bottom before,” is the answer she is looking for, and provides.

“ ‘k,” I tell her.  Trying.

She stops, which is disappointing… saying, “That should help.”

“Thanks,” I say, trying not to pant.

“If you’re good and don’t need another spanking, you should be fine.”

“I will be,” I say, but…

“Go ahead and put your pants on - do you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure,” I tell her.  So we cuddle - not something I’m used to, but more than willing - and watch a movie.  I squirm a little, she thinks it’ because my bottom’s sore, but that’s not it - and not to fake it, either.  I just have so many thoughts and feelings…

[ahatintimepieces]

He’s Going to be Okay

I wrote a little fic for @doodledrawsthings ahit “Coffee shop AU” about one of Luka’s early days working at The Horizon! Nothing fancy but I got the idea and just went with it. Please enjoy!

              Luka flexed his four fingers against his coiled torso, staring at the thick purple prongs with tempered despair. Yes, he had been getting used to his new fluid body after traveling around for a few years, but now that he had recently started working at The Horizon, he found himself aching for his human body even more.

              Whenever he shapeshifted, he became acutely aware of just how much he had changed. While making coffee or wiping down tables, he could feel how flexible his arms and fingers were, like they were those cylindrical jelly toys meant to slip out of children’s hands the second they were squeezed too hard. He always feared if he grabbed a carafe or a customer’s change too firmly, his hands would melt back into purple goop.

              Blinking, he ran his hand through the fur on his head. He had to get up. Hattie was at school, which he was so grateful that a chance for her to have a normal life as a kid again, and he had work, which was another wonderful blessing. But he was so tired.

              Shaking himself as he uncoiled and floated over to the bathroom, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. His pair of golden, glowing eyes and jack-o-lantern smile stared back at him. He longed for nothing more than to see his familiar, human features, but just the idea of shapeshifting just then drained him of non-existent energy.

              Come on! He could do this! He had been working full time and taking grad classes on top of being a single father before all of this! He didn’t know the meaning of fatigue! Surely, he could keep his liquid body in the right shape for one measly shift!

              Determined, he shrunk himself enough to curl his tail at the base of the sink as he gripped the edges. He stared into the mirror. It was only his forth day on the job and he wasn’t going to be late! He stared at his golden eyes, using the promise of coffee to summon enough strength to—

              He groaned and hunched over the sink, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

              Okay. New plan! He would grab some clothes and commute as a noodle. Maybe a short flight through the forest would wake his body up enough to change.

              Once he collected his things, he shrunk himself and snuck outside through his bedroom window. Luckily, most everyone in the complex had either left for work or school, so he only needed to slip past an older couple sitting on a bench at the boarder of the forest. He flew behind him, using their own shadows for cover, and darted into the woods.

              Use the shadows to hide. Think about the coffee waiting at work. Remember he’s doing this for Hattie. Hattie. He has to be able to support her. His daughter is all he had left, and he knew he could be okay as long as he had her.

              Feeling a touch more rejuvenated from both his mental pep talk and the fresh forest air, Luka landed behind the usual tree he used as cover when he started to slip in work. From his tree, he could smell the roasted coffee and his mouth watered. While Hattie did make him breakfast that morning—complete with lots of bacon, as if his sweetheart knew he needed an extra boost—he found himself still hungry. He vaguely wondered if all the shapeshifting lately required more fuel as well as sleep, but he shoved those thoughts down swiftly.

              He didn’t really have time to dwell on these things.

              With concentration, he first focused on shifting into a humanoid shape. The fluff around his neck easily molded into tufts of soft hair and shrinking his length to his human height was also a breeze. The hard part was splitting his tail into legs and his mittens into hands. But soon, he found himself standing—oh standing! How he missed feeling firmly planted on the ground on two feet!—and he could flex his humanoid fingers and thumbs. Next came his features, which he manifested while he shimmied into his pants.

              Nose. Teeth that weren’t fangs. Human eyes—with pupils and everything!—and brows. He skipped the ears because he figured his hair would cover them anyway and he was still so tired. Cutting corners on his appearance might help. Soon enough, he felt himself in proper human-shape, even if he still felt like a water balloon with his innards shifting around in a magic shell.

              As he buttoned his shirt—something so normal felt so good—he focused on changing his color to match how he was before. Brown hair, chestnut eyes, and not a drop of purple anywhere on his skin. He inhaled a steadying breath and walked around the shop and towards the entrance.

              “Hey there, Luka,” MJ called from the cash register as Luka briskly walked towards the back. “How was drop-off?”

              Drop-off? It took Luka a second as he put on his apron before he registered that MJ was asking about dropping Hattie off at school—the reason Luka had said he couldn’t take an early shift.

              “Oh, yeah,” Luka offered a nervous smile. He felt bad not only that he had to lie about the real reason but also because he wished he could have walked Hattie to school instead of being confined to the apartment as a weird purple snake monster. “It was fine. She seems to be making friends already.”

              That, he realized gratefully, was true and he couldn’t be happier for his daughter.

              But it also meant he really needed to make sure he didn’t screw up this job.

              “That’s great!” MJ offered a warm smile before turning back to the customers, his blue hair bouncing on top his head with his movement.

              Luka glanced down as he tied his apron, smiling softly.

              “Enough chatting!” Clover appeared from the back with a tray of plastic-wrapped pastries in hand. “Luka, can you get started on making drinks?”

              “Oui, Chef!” Luka saluted, which earned an eyeroll from Clover.

              “We outsource the pastries, you goof!” She gave him a gentle nudge before restocking the reserves beneath the display case.

              Instead of quipping back, Luka just laughed as he crossed over to the espresso machine, where cups with orders were already lined up.

              It felt good, he marveled, laughing with coworkers. How long had it been since he just spent time with friends? His gaze lingered on his human hand as he grabbed a cup.

              Too long, he decided.

              The first half of the shift went by in a blur. The mornings were always busiest, leaving Luka pushing out cup after cup. It wasn’t until MJ handed him the last order that Luka let himself relax long enough to breathe. Even then, when he read MJ’s instructions on what coffee to make, it just read, “Luka’s Favorite.”

              “What?” Luka glanced over at MJ, taking a moment to briefly scan the room for anyone waiting for coffee.

              “You’ve earned it,” MJ answered as his gaze narrowed on something in front of him and furrowed his brows. MJ removed his red-rimmed glasses and frowned at an apparent smudge before using the edge of his apron to clean up the lens. “I don’t know your favorite though,” MJ looked back up, squinting slightly at Luka without his glasses. “You’ll have to tell me a few times before I remember, as a heads up.”

              “Chestnut-infused Columbian Bean with cream and sugar,” Luka replied softly, smiling as he started to make himself a cup. “What about you?”

              MJ pushed his glasses back onto his nose and was about to respond before he titled his head with concern.

              “Dude, you alright? You’ve got some pretty gnarly bags under your eyes.”

              Luka’s heart dropped into his stomach as he instinctively lifted a hand to his face.

              “Um, mind if I—” Luka gestured towards the bathroom and MJ nodded. Luka practically threw himself into the cramped employee bathroom and glanced up.

              Oh no.

              Sure enough, purple was starting to spread, starting at the base of his eyes. In addition, his chestnut irises were starting to reflect gold in the dim bathroom light. He glanced down at his hands, his usual indicator that he was out of time in his human-shape. They remained untouched by purple and he still had his thumbs.

              Okay. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. He had made it through most of the shift and might be able to stick it out the rest of the day. Looking exhausted was fine, so long as he still looked human.

              He inhaled a deep, calming breath. He would be fine. He just needed a cup of coffee and that should tide him over. He could stick it out! He could do this!

              He returned to the counter with an anxious smile plastered on his face. MJ was wiping down the top of the display case when Luka went to finished making his coffee. While he poured the cream, he noted his hands were shaking but he ignored them.

              “Luka,” MJ asked as Luka lifted the steaming cup to his lips, “is everything okay?”

              “Oh yeah!” Luka smiled but he soon felt two sharp somethings—his fangs, he realized with dread—dig into his bottom lip. Panic gripped his chest and he glanced down at his hand holding the coffee cup.

              The tips of his fingers were turning purple.

              “Actually,” Luka’s shoulders slumped with resignation. He shifted the coffee cup into his other hand—which was still free of purple—and hid his changing hand behind his back. “I’m not—I think I need to—”

              MJ zeroed in on his hand and for a second, Luka feared the purple was spreading and the cat was out of the bag, but his fears were soon assuaged when MJ spoke.

              “Your hand is shaking more than my old dryer!” MJ explained in disbelief and worry. “Listen, do you need to go home? I can cover for the rest of the day.”

              “I hate to leave you mid-shift again and with Clover off getting more cup sleeves—” Luka winced from the way his growing fangs scratched against his mouth as he stepped back towards the door.

              “It’s all good,” MJ promised, his brows tight with concern. “Just get some rest before you need to pick up your daughter.”

              “Thank you!” Luka just about dashed out the back door, “It won’t happen again!”

              He barely made it outside before the purple creeped up his arm and his fingers on his one hand clenched back into cumbersome mittens. He ducked behind the tree and let out a frustrated groan as his thin control over his body dissolved.

              Not wanting to ruin another pair of clothes, he placed his coffee down and swiftly undressed. He tried to maintain fingers on the hand that was just turning purple as he struggled with the buttons on his shirt. It took a few tries but he finally managed. The second he shed his shirt and pants, his purple form ballooned into the now familiar form of a large snake with fur and noodle arms.

              Luka sighed, leaning against the bark as fatigue and sorrow ate at his spirit. Wet, golden tears slipped down familiar paths etched into his cheeks. He momentarily entertained the idea of remaining there, in the shadow of the tree and stewing in his sorry state, but on the other side of The Horizon, he could hear the hustle and bustle of the people of Subcon. The longer he remained in the open, the more he risked being seen.

              Willing himself through the motions, he collected his clothes and draped them over his arm before scooping up his coffee cup between two thick fingers. Careful not to let the cup slip through his fingers because he knew that a little spilled coffee in that moment was all it would take to send him into a spiral of despair he might not be able to recover from, he headed home.

              He hovered through the deeper part of the woods since he had nowhere to be anytime soon. Of course, he wanted to be home before Hattie, but that wasn’t for another hour or two. So, he took his time, letting his tail wiggle lackadaisically as he flitted from shadow to shadow. The warm coffee in his hand was a small comfort and the toasted flavor of the beans soothed him to the core.

              He was mid-sip—eyes half-closed—when a small gasp came from below.

              Luka’s eyes snapped fully open as he glanced down over his coffee cup. A young child in a dark purple hood with fluffy brown bangs that concealed most of their features was craning their neck to look up at him.

              The two remained frozen as they stared at each other for a second. Luka clutched his clothes draped around his one arm and still held the coffee cup to his mouth while the child’s jaw hung open.

              “Wowie! What are—” The child’s awe-filled voice snapped Luka out of his petrification and before the child could finish their sentence, Luka flew away.

              Peck! He was seen! Sure, he had been seen before but usually not mid-day and never that up close! He glanced back at the kid, who thankfully wasn’t following him, just watching in shock.

              That might come back to haunt him…

              Oh well, Luka tried to console himself as he zipped back home. At least the kid didn’t see him shapeshifting, which was more likely to give away his identity. The thought of Luka being found out and having to tear Hattie from another home gripped his chest like ice, but he immediately forced himself to take deep breaths.

              It was okay. The kid saw a purple noodle in the forest with coffee. It was fine. There was no reason to think he was at risk of being found out.

              It was going to be okay. He would be okay. Hattie was safe and happy. Everything was okay.

              The area behind the apartment was void of life and Luka had no trouble shrinking and flying up to his bedroom window, which he had left open for easy access. He flew in and soon expanded to fill the empty room. Sighing, he gingerly set down his cup before folding his clothes and stacking them by the closet. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and he curled around himself, resting his head on his hands on the topmost coil.

              His eyelids drooped as he flicked the tip of his tail back and forth. He wished he could have finished his shift. He wished he could have kept laughing with MJ and that he could have been there when Clover came back.

              He squeezed his eyes shut, as if it would keep a few more tears from slipping out. No such luck. He heaved out a worn sign before shifting his focus on getting some sleep. Maybe if he rested enough, he would have enough energy to maintain a humanoid shape so he could cook a good dinner for Hattie. That would be nice.

              He fell asleep repeating his new mantra.

              It would be okay. He was going to be okay.

[theladyofdeath]

Date Night {Nessian}

31 Days of Halloween: Day 5.

All installments co-written with @snelbz​

Based on a prompt sent in by anon: “Nessian - Nesta loves Halloween like it’s the only holiday she gets so so excited about and Cassian loves her for it - via anon + PUMPKIN CARVING “

It was date night, and Nesta had just decorated her apartment.

She felt no shame as she decorated, felt no shame in the magic that was Halloween. It was her favorite holiday, by far, the only one she had ever really gotten into. Thanksgiving and Christmas were okay. She enjoyed getting together with her family - but only for an hour or so. The more time she spent around her father, the more frustrated she got. The same could be said for Easter.

Although, the mall Easter bunny terrified her as a child.

But Halloween?

It was perfect, amazing, mesmerizing.

She loved the horror stories, loved the thrill of it all. Loved dressing up as something bloody and gorey every year. When she was six, she went as Beetlejuice and scared the shit out of everyone in her kindergarten class.

It was a great year.

It was the year she began loving Halloween.

She was in her bedroom, pulling a cozy cardigan on, when she heard her front door open and then—

A low whistle.

Smirking, she made her way back up towards the living room and found Cassian looking around, his eyes never settling on one thing. “Hi.”

He was still looking around the room, not even pausing to glance at his girlfriend. “Hi.”

It was their first Halloween together, and although Nesta had told Cassian Halloween was her favorite, she didn’t think he really understood before this moment.

“Wow,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You really do like Halloween.”

“I love it,” she said. “Obviously.”

There were spiderwebs and skulls and creepy candles, already lit, spread across her living room and kitchen. Cassian was currently, and hesitantly, touching one of the webs.

“I like Halloween, too,” Cassian began, nodding absently. “But, I mean….you really like Halloween.”

“Is that a problem?” Nesta crooned.

Cassian turned to her, at last, and grinned. “No, no it’s not. Hi.”

“Hi,” she whispered, and he met her in the middle of the floor with a kiss. “So, where are we going?”

“What?” Cassian asked, his brow raised. “No, no. This was your date night. You planned it all, I’m just tagging along.”

Nesta hesitated. “I did what?”

Cassian laughed, breathlessly. “You said you were gonna plan tonight.”

Nesta blinked. “After how many shots of what?”

Cassian’s grin widened. “Six. Tequila.”

“There’s the problem,” she muttered. “Okay.” A deep breath. “Well...dinner first?”

“I can always start with food,” Cassian crooned. “And after food?”

He asked, knowing full well that she didn’t have an answer.

“Let’s just start with dinner,” Nesta said, rolling her eyes.

She slipped on her shoes, got ready, and then they were out. Nesta racked her brain with a thousand different ideas, and considering it was the night before Halloween, Nesta wanted to do something festive.

After a delicious meal — and probably a few too many glasses of wine — they were walking down the front stairs of the restaurant, hand in hand, when inspiration struck.

“I know what we’re doing,” she announced, and with raised eyebrows, Cassian looked over at her.

“Okay?” He asked.

“We need to run by the supermarket on the way home,” she said, nodding.

He smirked, surely thinking her shopping list was more on the whipped cream and strawberries side, but when she returned to the truck with two massive pumpkins, he laughed. “We’re carving pumpkins?”

She smiled. “We’re carving pumpkins.”

“I’ve never carved a pumpkin,” Cassian admitted.

Nesta froze, just after she shut the bed’s gate. “Sorry, what?”

He chuckled, shrugging. “I’ve never carved a pumpkin.”

“What?” Nesta repeated. “How? Why?”

Cassian cocked his head to the side as he watched her. “My mom hated messes. Carving pumpkins equals messes. Therefore, we didn’t do it.”

“It’s sexy where you use therefore,” Nesta appreciated.

“I know.”

“Well,” Nesta began, climbing into the passenger seat. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Carving pumpkins?” Cassian asked, as he started up his truck.

Nesta nodded, leaning back against the seat as they began down the road, back to her apartment.

“What’s not to like about endless goo and the ungodly smell?” he mumbled.

Nesta nudged him in the ribs and he laughed. The radio played quietly as they drove back to Nesta’s place, and when they made it there, they hauled everything up the stairs, through Nesta’s apartment, and onto her balcony.

“Roll up your sleeves,” Nesta crooned.

Cassian sighed and watched as Nesta expertly used a large knife to cut the top off of both pumpkins and shave the dangling guts directly into the waiting trash can. She slid a pumpkin across to where Cassian sat and handed him a large metal serving spoon.

“What? Are we having a casserole?”

She rolled her eyes. “You want to use your hands?”

“Nope,” he said, nodding and shutting up. “Spoon sounds good.”

He watched as Nesta scooped out the pumpkin guts, shamelessly, and plopped them into the garbage. “Come on, Nazari. Keep up.”

Cassian cleared his throat before digging his spoon into the pumpkin.

He hated it.

He hated the feeling of the guts on his hands, wanted so desperately to cringe from the slimey horror that was coating his fingers. He didn’t, though. Was careful about everything he did, careful not to offend Nesta, who was having the time of her life.

“What are you going to carve?” Nesta asked, focused on her pumpkin.

“Hmmm?” Cassian asked, dropping a spoonful of guts into the garbage.

“Into your pumpkin,” Nesta clarified. “What are you going to carve?”

“A smile?” He said, glancing up at her. It sounded more like a question than a statement.

Nesta scoffed. “A smiley face?”

Cassian’s brows furrowed. “I mean, an angry face?”

“That’s so boring, babe,” she chuckled, pulling the last of the loose goop and seeds and dropping it into the trash can.

“Fine then, Princess Spooky Pants, what are you carving?” He said, lifting the pumpkin up and shaking its remains into the trash can.

Using the wet towel she’d brought out with them, Nesta wiped off her hands and grabbed her phone, showing him an intricate cat with a moon and—

“How do you carve the witch in there without cutting all the way through?” He asked, amazed by the detail in the vegetable carving.

“I’m very skilled,” she crooned, getting to work. “So, what are you going to carve?”

Cassian hesitated. “I don’t know, I’ve suddenly second guessed every thought I’ve ever had about pumpkins.”

Nesta chuckled. “Carve a witch.”

“I can’t carve a witch,” he said.

“Then do a cat,” she suggested.

“I can’t do a cat,” he said.

Nesta looked at him, exasperated. “Then do your best.”

Cassian grinned. “Alright. Fine.”

They worked, Nesta much harder than Cassian, and after about an hour, Cassian was lying back on the balcony, his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the starlight.

“Okay,” Nesta finally beamed. “I’m ready. It’s done.”

Cassian yawned. “Are you sure?”

She nudged him in the leg with her foot and laughed. “Yes. Care to take a look?”

Cassian pushed himself up on his elbows and took a look at Nesta’s pumpkin. As to be expected, it was an intricate portrait of a cat and the moon and swirls and other lacey-like shit. Cassian stared, amazed at it. Feyre was known as the painter of the family, but maybe the artist-genes had made it to more than one Archeron sister.

“Are you kidding me?” Cassian breathed. “That’s amazing.”

Nesta beamed. “Let me see yours.”

Cassian stilled. “What?”

“Let me see it.”

His pumpkin was behind him, the backside facing them. After seeing Nesta’s, showing her his pumpkin was the last thing that Cassian wanted to do.

“No,” he mumbled.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Let me see.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Fine, but-.”

Nesta reached past him and turned his pumpkin around, only to be greeted by the simplest, ugliest jack-o-lantern.

She pressed her lips tightly together to suppress her grin.

Cassian snorted. “Don’t be rude.”

Nesta gaped. “I’m not being rude. It’s...I love it.”

“Uh, huh,” Cassian said, but he was grinning and Nesta tossed her leg over his abdomen and straddled his waist.

She was still laughing quietly when she promised, “I do love it, it’s perfect.” She leaned down with her palms resting flat against his chest as she kissed him, softly.

“So, what do we do now?” Cassian asked, his breath warm against her lips. “Put candles inside and light them up?”

“Yeah,” Nesta responded, longingly. “But, first, we do this...”

After another kiss, and another, and another, the carvings were long forgotten.

And, for Cassian, so was the mess.

[wheelersdealer]

Can’t Deny My Love

Summary: Y/n is in denial about her love for Steve, Steve is in denial about his chances with Y/n. Robin encourages Steve to embrace his, fear encourages Y/n to embrace hers. Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader, a bit of Robin x Reader Warnings: STRANGER THINGS SEASON 3 SPOILERS and Profanity. A/n: Requests for Stranger Things season 3 are open!

“Go! Shit shit shit shit!” Your sneakers skid against the linoleum as you come face to face with a room full of uniformed Russian scientists — your best guess. There’s the gate past the glass they all look past, all eyes on you and your comrades as Dustin’s the first to fumble with where the hell to go.

Steve runs against you when you hesitate, before pushing you before him. You run after Erica, hurrying down the steps and kicking yourself up to skip a few like you used to when you were a kid. When you see Steve stumble you reach and grab his hand, yanking him down some steps and just out of the grasp of one of the soldiers behind him.

“This way!” Steve yells when you’re stuck on the bridge by the machine. It’s almost deafening but you can still hear the panic in everyone’s voices. When you run ahead of him, just a step or two, he grabs your shoulders and pushes you behind him before he throws forward a tower of waste containers into the guards that were so close to coming for you.

He looks back, yelling “Come on! Come on!” And grabs your hand in one of his, the other urging everybody to pass by him.

You run into the nearest room, and you almost keep going for it until Steve’s shoes  squeak and the door pounds shut. You run and hold it with him, ear against the door, eyes on him and occasionally flickering to the others as they one by one begin to realize the situation you and Steve are in.

“Hnng—Robin!” You yell and she comes near, pushing against the door behind you. You head is nearly in Steve’s chest but with your eyes closed as you try with all your strength to keep the damn door closed you block out everything else that’s happening.

You don’t understand what she’s referring to when Erica yells “Here! Come on, let’s go!” And the creaking of the grate Dustin and her pick up isn’t a clear exit to you. You push harder, thinking the men on the other side are creaking open your door.

“Go! Just get out of here!” Steve shouts.

Dustin keeps yelling for you all to get out of there, but Steve insists. “No! Just go get some help, okay?!”

And then you open your eyes and you’re pushed away from the door, Steve nodding his head up at Dustin and Erica with his eyes nearly squeezed shut.

“Y/n! Go with them! Go get help!”

Of course you don’t just go. Dustin jumps down into the grate but holds onto the rim of the floor, looking from you to Steve to Robin. His breath is heavy, just as heavy as yours, but the pain and worry in your face (some would say betrayal) in your face is clearer on yours to Steve than on Dustin’s.

You’re pleading, essentially, hands held out cautiously as though you’re trying to ease your way back to helping Steve and Robin. But the look he gives to you is just as pitiful.

He mouths “Please,” with a strain. And just for him, you’re hurrying backward, refusing to take your eyes off him.

You ease in behind Dustin, kneeling and holding open the grate when he yells to them, “I won’t forget you!”

But even the sentiment won’t make them change their minds. They yell “GO!” In unison, Steve’s eyes jumping between you two.

And with a pain in your heart, you enter after Dustin, dropping down carefully and making sure the grate closes securely above you. At the first sound of it clang against the floor, metal on metal, there’s yelping from Robin and Steve as another clang comes from the door that’s forced open by the soldiers.

There’s guns cocking, unintelligible shouting, and the sound of the vent denting and jerking underneath your knees as you crawl.

“Why’s she so quiet?” Erica blurts amidst Dustin’s explanation of the events that have unfolded over the past three years. You’re sat in a tight ventilation system and not particularly at ease. You open your mouth to defend yourself, knowing full well nothing will come out, but she spares your voice on the verge of tears by interjecting Dustin’s story to go, “Wait, by “we” you’re including Lucas?”

“Yes, of course,” Dustin says.

“So all that shit you told me, Lucas was there? And her too?”

You roll your eyes and scoff softly as she points a thumb at you. You personally don’t see why that’d be so hard to understand, but you let it go.

Dustin’s face scrunches up and he eyes you. “Yeah.”

“My brother, Lucas Charles Sinclair?”

“Yes!” Dustin looks at you for backup. You can only shrug.

Erica clicks her tongue. “I don’t believe you.” And she eyes you.

“Wait, so you believe everything about El and the gate and the Demodogs and the Mind Flayer, but you question your brother’s involvement? And you question her involvement?” Dustin points past himself and over to you. You raise a hand and give a weak wave when Erica looks at you.

She looks you up and down before turning to Dustin and nodding. “That’s correct?”

“Well, why her? Why’s it so hard to believe when she’s been here the whole time?”

“Yeah!” You scoff, adjusting your position. Unfortunately for you, you’re a little larger than a 10 and 14 year old and have to sit with your legs crossed and neck bent forward to sit anywhere near comfortably. You rest your cheek on your hand and look down at your feet. “Steve explicitly said I was there when the whole ‘gate’ thing happened. Do you really expect me to be clueless about my little brother opening a portal to another dimension?” You nudge him, “He’s not exactly the most discrete person. Don’t know why suddenly trust him but not me.”

Erica leans back and looks at you. “It’s because you’re so damn lovesick I can’t believe you managed to not get killed.”

“Woah woah woah — what do you mean by lovesick?”

Erica hums and looks at Dustin. He…hesitates.

“Dustin. What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Erica starts, “that the only reason why you’re with us right now is because he’s been saving you from near-death since you’ve been so busy stuck looking at him.”

“Okay, who’s him?”

Dustin sighs and licks his lips for a moment, bouncing his head and humming to himself his answer. One glare from you and he mutters, “Steve,” as he rolls his eyes as though to add on the phrase ‘obviously.’

“Okay I am not—” you scoff and grunt, leaning past Dustin and snatching his screwdriver from him. He doesn’t bother, but he does budge, scooting back knowing full well if he doesn’t he’ll receive your scorn. You fiddle with the fan’s panel and he sits back where you once sat, and he and Erica continue their conversation. You continue with “—in love,” under your breath, and all they do is spare a silent judging look.

“Um, you need help with that?” Erica asks.

And you scoff, “No,” your screwdriver incidentally slipping out of the secure place you’ve been working to get it lodged into.

She doubts you even more than before. “Well I mean it’s taking a while so—“

“Well obviously, Erica.”

She reels back and hisses. “Well geesh, didn’t think you’d get so pent up over your hubby.”

“H-hubby?” You grimace in disgust. “We’re not — that, okay? Whatever that is, that’s not us. So sorry for being scared for my friend. Suppose that means we’re dating, obviously.”

“I didn’t say you were dating. Just that you’ve got the hots.”

“Okay, ew! Can you shut up now?” Your hand slips again and you curse under your breath. You can practically sense Dustin sighing into his hand and it doesn’t help when Erica starts up again.

“All right, so if we don’t find a more efficient method to stop these fans then her,” you bite your tongue, literally and figuratively, “we’re never gonna find help, and your ice cream buddies are screwed.”

You tune her out by sheer force of will and continue to focus. You listen to the whirring of the blades instead of her and Dustin as their arguing develops into something a little more meaningful. It’s less in the realm of forcing your mind to visualize the horrific deaths of your friends, and more in the realm of ponies. It’s still not all that fun of a conversation to be listening to here and there, but you stop the fan.

And despite the torture she’s put your psyche through imagining all possible scenarios, you slide to the side as the fan’s electricity crackles and the blades come to a stop. You put them before you, letting them crawl through the still blades and follow after.

You can’t help but look behind you as you crawl.

And even later you feel an older-sibling, parental-like spirit in you when you push the kids up past a grate and up into a room featuring a hand little red vehicle and vials upon vials of mushy green goop — the same from earlier that burnt a hole through multiple stories.

You feel your heart rate pick up when you see Erica round a corner, but figuring your instincts are getting the better of you (and not wanting her to turn on you even more — say what you will about her age, her words still bite) you turn your back and let her wander on your own. When Dustin yells after her you wince knowing if there’s worry in his voice there’s something clearly wrong, and thinking of how much he’ll scold you if something happens to her and you come out about having seen her gone down a whole different hallway.

But then there’s a deafening zap and you turn to it and see her wielding a metallic rod with spurts of blue lightning coming out the tip of it.

“What the hell is that?!” Dustin leans back.

And Erica shrugs, “A deadly weapon. Could be useful.”

“O-kay!” You step in, snatching it from her and holding it somewhat close to your chest. “In anybody’s hands but yours.

“Thank you Y/n.” Dustin turns to Erica. “But for what?”

Her glare toward you softens and she looks at Dustin, smirking. “What do you think? Taking down Commies, saving your friends.” She looks at you. “Your boyfriend.” You groan. “And before you go on saying how he’s not your boyfriend — this isn’t about that. Do you want to save him or not?”

You bite your lip and tap your foot, looking at Dustin for the answers. Smart boy he is. And with a temper much more stable than yours.

“Thought you were more realistic than that, nerd. We don’t even know where they are, and even if we did there are a million guards up there —“

Erica rolls her eyes and walks off, but you follow, holding the weapon tight.

“Who have weapons way more deadly than this little one.”

Dustin holds a hand to you and nods. “The best thing we can do for them is to get out of here and find help.”

Dustin gets into the driver's seat and you get into the passenger one, ‘poor’ Erica getting squished between you. And it doesn’t help that in order to comfort yourself you’re leaning forward with your elbows on your knees and fingernails in your mouth.

You keep your eyes on the floor, but you feel Erica eye you, hoping you’ll back her up when Dustin explains how “Our chances of surviving, and theirs, rises substantially. Just trust me on this one?”

Dustin leans forward and catches your eyes. “Please?” He asks in a literal sense but the look on his face has him questioning his own decision. First you refuse to look either of them in the eye — the pressure of being the ‘adult’ in the group being much too heavy on you. You liked it better when there was Steve and Robin, and while Steve’s judgment hardly failed you, if one of yours did somebody else was able to come up with a decision just as big.

You sigh.

And looking back into Dustin’s eyes, you think (in a cheesy way), ‘What would Steve do?’

You sit up and look forward. Dustin sighs too and shrugs, putting the key in the ignition and squeezing tight on the wheel. His foot is hovering just over the gas when —

“Dustin, switch spots with me. Erica, go get some of those green things.”

He’s offended you’re second-guessing him but relieved you’re taking charge again.

You hold onto the top of the vehicle to aid yourself in getting out, and Dustin does too, stepping out and switching places with you.

Erica coos as she gets out of her seat. “Gonna go save your boyfriend?”

You huff and get situated at the wheel. “Ask Dustin how many times things have worked out any better when we’ve put the responsibility in somebody else’s hands.” Erica comes back with an armful and looks at him, and so do you. You give a sarcastic smile. “Have you found a number?”

Dustin shakes his head no and Erica gets in next to him, still cradling the green substances.

No, it has never worked out any better.

“Exactly.” You step on the gas.

The hallways are a lot more pleasing when you’re not walking for hours on end through them, and you go as fast as you can but manage to keep calm. Erica’s eyes are bugging, hoping to jumpstart a conversation between you or Dustin with the sheer look of questioning on her face. But just as you would any old car you keep a hand on the wheel, an elbow on your knee, and you pick at your lips to show you’re concentrating.

The plan?

You’ll (by some means) set off the alarm, and Erica and Dustin will sneak into the room with that colorful little tool (which sits unsafely between your closed legs, by the way, but never mind that) and use it if they have to.

Dustin’s never seen you so assertive. All those other years you were helpful, sure, but you followed orders, you didn’t give them.

Just back there Steve gave orders, you followed them. You’ve so often been lumped together with the kids, acting as a backup babysitter, an understudy for if anything went wrong — an understudy for if something happened to Steve.

When you come to your destination and park, you usher the kids out of the vehicle and keep them behind you while you scope the place out. You take the green stuff from Erica and hand the tool to Dustin. Then your plan starts.

It goes by in a blur summarized by your heart beating in your ears.

You kneel in a nearby hallway, unscrew all of the green vials, and wait for Dustin to assure you that he and Erica have found themselves a safe hiding space. Then you kick them forward and wince hearing the steel floors crackle and dissolve. You jump back, making sure none of it is on your shoe (that wouldn’t be good, would it?) Before running to hide with the two.

Some man (stereotypical evil Russian man) steps out of the room, and when you give the go-ahead that it’s clear enough, Erica and Dustin burst inside. You stay back, keeping an eye on the workers all huddled in the hallway where you spilled that goo. You hear Dustin’s jump in with a shout and the screaming of another man, the zapping sounds from the tool coming to your ears around the same time as smoke comes to your nose.

“Heeeey! Henderson!” Steve…slurs?

You step in after and smile softly at the side of his face…though beat up and bloody you’re glad to see him as okay as he is.

“That’s crazy, I was just talking about you.” You kneel down by Dustin and guide him out of the way. He’s having trouble with the belt straps around Steve’s feet so you get to work on those, not paying Steve any mind while Dustin and Erica go and work on the chest constraints with the main lock around Robin’s front.

“Oh heyyyy Sweetie. I was just talkin’ about you too!” You can’t help but blush.

“Get ready to run,” Dustin warns.

You help Steve up and grab his hand, running out of the room with him while Erica and Dustin guide Robin. You stay back for a moment, taking your hand from Steve and pushing him forward to make sure the huddle in the hallway isn’t any the wiser.

When you get back Dustin and Erica are pushing Robin and Steve into the back of the vehicle. And to not make things difficult you hop in with them considering Dustin’s already on his way to the driver’s seat.

Not the best decision you’ve made in a while since you huddle in your own corner watching them in fear you’ve seen this exact thing at one of Tina’s parties, and worrying because you really don’t need somebody to barf on you right now. Especially with the speed of the vehicle and Dustin’s wobbly driving.

“What is wrong with them?” Erica asks you through the wall.

“I don’t know!” Dustin yells.

As you pinch your nose you explain, “They’re obviously high on something—OW!” You cradle the back of your head when yours rams into the wall on account of Dustin crashing you guys into a tower of barrels.

You hear him wince. “You guys alright back there?”

“No,” you grit, and sit up ready to drag Robin and Steve out of the back. You grab Steve’s hands and try to pull him out but are unable to for the life of you. It might be easier if he wasn’t a drunk, incoherent, limp blob of flesh right now but you figured you’d give Dustin and Erica a head start in getting them out.

Dustin helps while he yells and Erica claps at them, and Steve falls against you, his back hunched and shoulders against yours. You wrap your arms around him to keep him held up and drag his limp self back to the elevator, Robin thankfully walking pretty well on her own.

Of course, things don’t get easier. Steve and Robin are ‘surfing’ while inside the elevator, and you keep alert for the exact moment that transpires. Steve falls forward, rolling on his side but laughing hysterically as he comes and rests his head against some boxes. You kneel beside him, lifting his head up and setting it in your lap while Dustin checks his temperature.

“He’s burning up,” Dustin gasps.

You close your eyes and wince hearing Steve whimpering “Ooowww,” as Dustin gets hold of his face and forces his eyes open.

“His pupils are super dilated.”

You hold Steve’s cheek and frown. “Probably drugged them or something…” Erica squints at you. “What? That’s what they do. Ever heard of ‘Truth serum?’”

She scoffs. “Yeah, in the movies.”

You lean forward, holding your hands over Steve’s ears. “Well Erica — you only hear of government experiment monsters in movies, but look where we are now.”

“I don’t think they weren’t drugged. I’m just sayin’ I doubt they call it ‘truth serum.’”

“Yeah, well, of course they don’t. This is a legitimate government organization, no shit they don’t call it truth serum.” You take your hands off Steve’s ears and instead gently pet his forehead. “Steve —“

“Oh there you are, sweetie!”

“Yeah, hi — “ you blush again but try as hard as you’re allowed to get the blood to stop flowing to your cheeks, “ — where’d you park the car?”

Of course, the Russians took his keys.

And of course, it doesn’t matter cause, of course, they’re waiting for you five at the elevator’s entrance.

And of course the movie theater would only have four available seats.

You promise Dustin you’ll be back soon, but have to make an even bigger case for Steve who keeps holding onto your wrist and whining, wondering “Where you goin’?” With his eyes half closed and a frown.

“I’m just gonna go scope the place out, okay? Okay?”

“Wait Y-Y/n!” Dustin’s met with a harsh SHHH from the lady behind him, and while he contemplates running after you, he forces himself to sit down and watch at least some of the movie.

You jog out of the theater and into the rest of the mall. It’s like the world’s spinning around you as you try to pinpoint any sign of suspicion, like a destination or something you can go to, to clear your head, but everything is just so out in the open. None of the stores are open, they’re all closed with those thick, grid-patterned bars…but it’s so quiet. It’s the first time you’ve experienced quiet in so long and you know this whole experience it might as well be nothing with how long it’s lasted…still, your heart aches knowing that this isn’t over. You’re not done with this, and this has a whole other level it’s going to go to. There are a whole ‘nother dozen pages of script and while you can relax now and cherish the fact that Steve and Robin and Dustin and Erica — that you’re all safe….it’s only for now.

You lean against a column just outside the movie theatre and close your eyes as you bang your head back against it again and again. Softly to avoid making any noise, but just enough to hurt.

And then you get up and walk away, hands deep in your pockets while you do as you told Dustin and ‘scope out the mall.’ It’s only a matter of time. You know this, you’ve been through this before, it’s only a matter of time before you’re not safe anymore.

So lost in your thoughts you don’t even notice Steve and Robin slipping out of the bathroom so carelessly. You’re already jogging down the escalator like regular stairs when they start fighting over who gets to use the water fountain, but the movie even from out here is still so loud you can’t hear their intoxicated babbling.

You’re scoping out the food court looking to see if there’s anything leftover that you can see from the seating area, and looking for good places you’ll hide behind if you need to when in the upstairs bathroom Steve and Robin start to play a game.

“Hit me,” Steve says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

And Robin runs her hand through her hair as she thinks to ask, “Have you….ever been in love?”

“Yep…Nancy Wheeler…and uh, Y/n.”

Robin hums, slightly impressed. “Y/n Y/n? Our, Y/n?”

“Mhmmm…Nance — first semester, senior year.” He intimidates a gunshot and chuckles painfully. “Y/n…I don’t know what happened.”

“Did anything ever happen?”

Steve taps his fingers on the toilet bowl. “No…no, only with me and Nancy.”

“Are you…still in love, with Nancy?”

After a moment, Steve shakes his head. He bites his lip before wincing at the pain it brings his jaw, and he sighs and goes back to letting his mouth hang slightly open. “No…no.”

“Why not?” Robin cocks her head.

“Because I have someone who’s a little bit better for me…”

“Is it Y/n?”

Steve goes quiet. At first, he shakes his head to himself, before nodding faintly. Though Robin, on the other side of the stall can only wonder the reason for his silence. She inhales to speak but Steve starts up again.

He holds his hand to his head to steady it and mumbles into his palm. “Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been saying, y’know, ‘You can’t let go of your Suzie, you can’t let go of your Suzie,’ calling me out for trying to get with other girls, basically just yelling at me for not making a move yet and—“

“Wait,” Robin sits up, “Who’s Suzie?”

“It’s some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend…To be honest with you I’m not even 100% sure she’s even real,” he chuckles, “but that’s not—that’s not really the point. That doesn’t matter. The point is, Y-….this girl…you know, that I like…she’s somebody that I…only ever paid attention to outside of high school. I don’t even know why. I knew who she was, I knew what she was like…I liked it…she was there for me when-when Nance and me — it-it’s doesn’t matter. I guess cause Tommy H. Would have made fun of me or something or she wouldn’t have wanted to be seen with me. I could have reminded her of everything, y’know, that we went through outside of school. Hell, it could have been because I would be Prom King! It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it I should’ve been hanging out with this girl the whole time. And I mean, she’s so sweet, and she cares about me, and this summer never have I grasped ‘conflict resolution’ so hard and felt so genuinely cared for in a really long time. And she’s smart, way smarter than me…And we just, we work really well together and everything. And y’know, on the outside you wouldn’t think it I suppose, but she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”

Robin hasn’t interjected once.

In her stall, she’s been smiling…so, so wide…she understands every word he’s saying…But after a while, her smile twitches into a pitiful frown, and she’s burying her head in her arms and keeping her lips pressed tight together.

“Robin, did you just OD in there?”

“No…” She sits up and leans back against the tiled wall. “I,” she takes a breath, “am still alive.”

Steve’s brows twitch. After a thought he slides under the stall and sides across from her, both of their feet up against each other’s body.

“What do you think?” He asks.

“About?”

“This girl…”

“She sounds awesome—“

“She is awesome.” Robin bites her lip. She knows. “And what about the guy?”

She feels a bit of an ache in her heart but she says it. “I think he’s on drugs, and he’s not thinking straight. I think he is…” She throws her head back against the wall and smiles a bit, “incredibly dumb for not taking his chances, and for wasting his time talking about this girl, instead of talking to her.”

“No. I think he,” he scoffs, “for once is thinking straight…leaving her alone…” He starts running his finger in circles around his knee. But his bit of bliss is sidetracked when Robin chokes out —

“No. He’s not. He has no idea how this girl feels about him. And if he did like-like really know how she felt about him…I think he would have been a lot happier a long time ago.”

His mind can’t figure out a direction to go in. Would he be happier cause he’d be with her? Or happier being over her?

“That’s not true,” he insists, “no way is that true.”

“Listen, to me, Steve.” Robin takes a deep breath and closes her eyes while facing the ceiling. “Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and like, obsessed?” Steve nods softly. “It isn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because…” She looks at him and stares him deep in the eyes. “It’s because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

Steve shakes his head. “Mrs. Click?”

Robin chuckles. “Y/n. Y/n Henderson. I wanted her to look at me. But…she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair. And I didn’t understand cause you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions, and you were a douchebag. And — and you didn’t even like her, and I would go home and-and just scream, into my pillow.”

“But, Y/n’s a girl…”

“Steve…”

“Yeah?” Robin forces a smile, her lips, and cheeks pink. “Oh…”

Her smile twitches, but she keeps it up. She sniffles and rubs her nose along her shoulder, down into her sleeve as she hugs herself softly. And Steve leans back, lips parted as he leans back against the stall’s wall.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah…holy shit.” Steve squeezes his kneecaps, running his hands up and down his legs as he thinks. Robin cracks a smile. “Steve? Did you OD over there?”

“No, I just uh….just thinking.”

“Okay,” She says, playing with her earing.

“I mean yeah.” Steve shrugs. “Y/n, she’s…she’s cute. And she’s nice, and she cares—she cares about you. And, and I’m not completely sure about thinks y’know we, we haven’t really talked about that, or anything but…” he smiles at Robin. “You should go for it. If-if things work out, y’know, I’d think she’d really like you…”

Robin chuckles, exasperated and puts her head against the wall again. She rolls it around, rocking herself side to side as her old memories of douchebag ‘King Steve’ get replaced more and more with this new one she wishes she’d known all her life.

“I mean, can you imagine that?! You two would look great together — intimidating as shit, psh, probably attracting more girls to the store than I ever could with my—“ he scoffs and flicks at his hair, “stupid hat and glowing hair.”

“She likes you, Steve.”

“Okay, well,” he shrugs, “I like you so I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

She sits up with her arms around her knees and slaps Steve in the side. He winces and holds the spot but continues, going on about how awesome you and her would be together. She can see the little bit of rejection in his face but she can’t help but laugh knowing it’s completely baseless! While she hasn’t felt too much since working with you, settling in nicely to being your dear friend, just remembering the power of her emotions back then and how positively Steve’s reacting to them warms her heart. She knows with him practically being her wingman she’ll be just fine, even if you’re at his side.

“Steve! She likes you, trust me!”

Steve scoffs and hits his head on the wall. “Eh, I — eh, I’m fine.”

“Steve! Don’t make me lock you two in a damn room!” Robin starts swatting at him again and he recoils, hugging himself and leaning halfway out of the stall.

“Hey, hey, I’m just trying to be a good friend!”

“So, be a good friend and date her already!”

Steve’s pinching his nose and laughing hysterically at the thought. Happy laughter and nervous laughter. Robin’s laughing, completely dumbfounded by the turn of events and hysterical at this goof being in such doubt compared to his younger self.

And then the door to the bathroom swings open, Dustin and Erica waltzing in with scorn on their faces and absolute disbelief at what they think still happens to be a high Steve and Robin.

“Okay. What the hell?!”  

Their laughter stops, though Robin can’t help but hiccup.

“Heh, wh-where’s Y/n?” Steve asks. He’s playful about it at first before his sobriety shines through and he’s preparing to stand, worried eyes darting around for you.

“Well we don’t know cause we were too busy looking for you two!”

Steve gulps. “Fuck. Fuck.” And stands up, grabbing Robin’s hand and helping her before attempting to charge out of the bathroom. But Dustin stops him, grabbing his arm and pulling with all his weight. It doesn’t take much before Steve intentionally stops but Dustin’s quick with his explanation.

“She’s out there but we need to wait and go with the crowd in case the,” he looks around and lowers his voice, “in case the Russians are out there.”

Steve’s gripping his hair, beginning to pace around the bathroom. “You just let her leave? Why wasn’t she in the theater with you two?”

Erica scoffs. “Why weren’t you in the theater with us?”

Steve bites his lip and kicks at the wall.

He waits with his ear against the door for the movie to end, and when Dustin says “Blend” at the visual of people walking out of the theater and the sound of laughter, Steve speed-walks right out of there. He looks back to make sure the kids and Robin are near, but can’t stop raising his neck to look for you over the crowd.

You made your way back upstairs via some of the shut-down escalators, just in time to spot not Steve, Robin, Dustin, or Erica, but the black-clad Russian soldiers checking the bags and purses of people coming out of the theater.

With a heavy heart, you walk away from the scene, looking over your shoulder and trying to spot any of them but remaining unable to find even that obnoxious Scoops Ahoy uniform.

You pick up the pace when you see the soldiers begin to move, spreading out and covering more of the available exits. You turn to look forward just as you run into a body. For starts not as thick as the soldiers you’ve come across, and not as slick as their uniforms, but you freak out regardless, unable to scream but forcing your eyes shut momentarily as their hands grip your wrists and keep you standing.

“Y/n?!”

It’s Jonathan.

You’re not entirely relieved, but incredibly confused. You jerk away from him as you see Nancy and the others halt in their steps just as they were approaching.

“What-what are you doing here?” Jonathan looks back and lets go of you when he sees Nancy coming.

She takes a shuddery breath and hugs you tight, arms coming from under your own and her fingers brushing the back of your neck.

“What are you doing here?!”

“What are you doing here?” You scoff. She takes no offense and Jonathan doesn’t either, seeing the uh…streaks and scuffs and bruises all of you — the dirt on your hoodie, even the burnt off bits of your hoodie. You don’t notice it until Jonathan does, and you frankly look quite terrified as you pick at it and realize some of that goop was this close to actually touching you.

“Is that Eleven?” You see her between Max and Mike, and then you see Lucas and Will.

Mike steps forward, his chin to his chest. “Are you here with Dustin?”

“Wh—“

Nancy and Jonathan both perk up. “What about Steve?”

You look over your shoulder, and there…there they are, trying to push through the crowd but freezing (like a bunch of buffoons you’d say especially considering everything you’ve been through) before they break through it, running. The commotion isn’t much among all of the movie-goers still leaving. But you see the Russian soldiers spread out. You grab Jonathan’s sleeve and drag him, hopping in your spot at first before bolting. You only manage a faint, choking, and raspy “C’mon.”

Some of them are hesitant at first but follow.

When you find a safe enough corner where there’s some couches set up to sit and plenty of columns and decorative floral pieces to hide behind.

You kneel behind a coffee table, one hand against the ground to aid you in getting up if needed.

“Y/n, what’s going on?” Jonathan steps forward, his arms crossed.

You take a deep breath and try to keep your breathing steady after that. “You guys need to get out of here.”

Mike scoffs. “What are you even doing here?”

“And where’s Dustin?” Will asks.

You roll your eyes. “They’re here, but—“

“Who’s they?”

“Me, Dustin, Steve, uh, Robin — Erica.”

“Erica? My Erica, my little sister Erica Sinclair?”

“My GOD can you just shut up for a second?” Most of them jump in some way. “I’m trying to get to the points you’re asking about but I can’t get to them if I have to answer you directly!” You stamp your foot against the ground and look off, clenching your jaw and blinking rapidly to keep any tears from coming. “You need to get out of here because there is Russian military in the mall, okay?”

“How do you—“ You can’t even register who it’s coming from.

“Because we broke into a room hidden as a storage closet but it was really just an elevator that took us to their lab underground! We just barely got out, they drugged Steve and Robin — Robin’s uh, he-they work together,” Nancy slowly lowers her hair, “Tortured Steve or some shit—“

“Tortured?” Jonathan sputters. He immediately looks apologetic for interrupting.

“Yes! Okay, they’re-they’re building this thing underneath the mall and now they know me and them exist and they chased us in here but they were hiding in the theater and now those guys, you see those guys?” You point, “In the black, checking purses? Yeah, those are Russian military men. Okay? And I just saw Steve, Dustin, Erica, Robin — I just saw all of them making a break for it which probably means they’re looking for me too, so you all need to get the hell out of here and —“

You stop, hearing your voice echo in the now empty mall. You didn’t think the mall would clear out so fast but it’s almost completely quiet. You weren’t that loud to begin with but the fire in your veins deafened you to only what you were saying.

You face drops and you stand up, scuffing your knees against the carpet but ignoring the mild sting and going to the railing. You look over, seeing the men dressed just the same with guns in their grasp. And ahead of them, you see your crew huddled behind a counter in the food court.

You choke, seeing Dustin and Steve sat together and able to tell from this far away how scared shitless they are — eyes probably closed shut, their bodies definitely shaking.

Just when Jonathan reaches you, you run from him. He trips and barely catches himself trying to make up for his lost catch, but the sudden pressure on the floor prompts some of the guys to point their guns to the second floor. Jonathan’s out of sight by then but you running gets all of their attention.

One of them yells at the other and they start shooting, your hunched stature as you hurry keeping you safe for the most part, the other part being the columns.

In a lapse of judgment Dustin and Steve look up from their hiding places. Steve’s eyes go wide at first you, then the sight of all the Russian standing almost in a cluster shooting at you as you run. You stop for just a moment, just a second, catching eyes with Steve. The pure fear and horror in your eyes breaks him, and the fear and horror in his eyes breaks you.

He curses at you to run for it….and you do, still trying to look for a way down there.

Your near parental protection over your brother Dustin got the better of you.

But just when you think to hesitate and check on them again, the car on the bottom floor of the mall starts rattling. It rattles and gunfire stops as attention goes on the car. You sneak back around to the escalators, hide behind a pillar and looking forward to see Eleven with her arm raised and blood dripping out of her nose. She concentrates, catching eyes with you for a second, then seeming to look at Dustin, though he’s a bit clueless to her presence.

And then the horns start honking, so obnoxiously as the sound ricochets through the mall.

She pushes her hand forward with a grunt…and the car screeches forward, rolling across the ground and crushing all of the guys one by one.

You don’t wait till it’s without a doubt safe. You hold onto the sides of the escalator to lift yourself and you swing over the rope-barrier, then skip down the steps and hop over the next one.

You run to the court where Erica and Robin are just beginning to stand, and without any hesitation, you lean over and hug your brother so damn tight he’d swear he couldn’t breathe. You squeeze him, swaying as best as you can over the counter. Then you lean back and hold his cheeks.

He’s shocked by the tears in your eyes and elated smile on your lips.

“Oh my god,” you breath, “why would you leave, you’re so stupid!” You kiss the top of his head.

“Why would I leave? You left too!”

You cackle and hook your chin over his shoulder. “Why do we keep getting into things? We’re both so stupid!”

You let him free to walk around. And there’s Steve, staring at you. His hands are pressed to the counter and he’s completely breathless. The exchange is quiet..awkward…but together you get this burst of energy and run around to meet each other. You hug him so tight with your arms going around his neck, and he’s too slow to do the same so he’s left a bit shocked with his arms limp at his side. Cautiously he wraps them around your waist, dropping his forehead to your neck.

Robin tries to pass and follow after Dustin and Erica, but you let one arm leave Steve to beckon her into the hug. She points to herself curiously and you nod, grabbing her before she has a chance to respond again and pulling her into a group hug.

She’s scared to at first but wraps an arm around your back.

With your head dipped down and looking at your shoes, Robin gives Steve a look. Then she leaves the hug, rubbing your back to assure you of good things and leaving you and Steve alone. He steps away from you too but only to hug you again, his hands on your shoulders and gripping them for a moment before he pulls you into his chest.

He grimaces and tries pulling away remembering the potential for vomit (thankfully for you there is none on his upper half) but you couldn’t care less. You hug him tighter and he has to grab your hands and pull them apart so he can put some distance between you two.

“Y/n — Y/n.”

“Steve,” you mock, “Steve.”

He gulps and between yourselves, he sways your hands a bit.

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, voice high, almost not like himself. “That was I think the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced.” He sniffles and looks at your hands.

“Really? What happened to getting tortured by the Russian government just a few hours ago?” You cup his cheek and hover your thumb over his swollen eye.

He forces a smile. “Well, that was —“ he rolls his eyes, “—bad, and I was basically drunk, so—“

“Ah,” you smile wide, “is that why you kept calling me sweetie?”

“Wait…I did?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Well shit.”

“It’s okay.” You stroke his cheek some more and tuck hair behind his ear. “It was cute, Harrington.”

“Har har.” Had everybody else not been reuniting with each other right now, it would be incredibly awkward for them to watch as you just stare at each other. He puts his arms around your waist again and his hands rest right against the small of your back. And you’re blissfully content just stroking his hair. “No I-I know I just got like, tortured earlier but…everything else that’s happened to us, everything else that’s saved us…Y/n you know that was just coincidence. And then there you came in just as I thought we were all about to be gunned down, only for you to almost be gunned down, and then — “ he’s rambling like he’s telling any other story and God is it adorable “ — they’re shooting and Jesus Y/n I swear I had a heart attack.” He holds his hand to his chest. “Ouch.”

“Well I-I had to distract them somehow.”

“By attracting the attention of five guys with high-speed bullets?”

You sputter, “Y-eaahh?”

Steve cackles. “You can be so stupid, I love you.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

“You heard me.” He shrugs. “I…love you? And I figure that since we’ve made it to intermission, we might as well make one of those like, ‘If we’re not both married by 30 we’ll get married’ pacts only like, it starts now.” He rolls his eyes at himself, hair bouncing as he tilts his head to the side. “Well, more like, after, this final boss fight cause you know there’s gonna be a boss fight, right?”

You hum and nod.

“See? So…wanna…maybe do that with me?”

You bite your lip. “Steve, I don’t want to do this if you’re just doing it to do this…If you’re scared and so desperate that we’ll just be thrown back into this again and like, there won’t be enough time for you to find somebody you actually want to date so you’re trying to date me—“

“No no no, not at all Y/n.” He cocks his head. “Y’know, just took me seeing you almost die 15 times in the last 24 hours and then me and Dustin and Robin and Erica almost dying 15 times in the last few hours to realize how disgustingly miserable I’d be without you and how quick I was to jump to finding someone like you when you were gone at camp for a month…”

“Really?”

“Really. I’m just,” he clicks his tongue and looks over your head, “not gonna deny the fact that I love you anymore.” He looks you in the eyes. “Not again…”

You hold his face with both hands and mutter a quiet “Sorry” when he winces. But he nods to assure you he’s okay before holding a hand over yours.

“Deals on, Harrington.”

“Do we kiss now?” You wondered that too, especially with all the…swollenness and the blood….he didn’t get a chance to brush his teeth either but he did rinse his mouth out with a lot of water while waiting in the bathroom.

You scrunch your nose at the question seeing how it so starkly broke the mood, but after a moment, “Yeah yeah, I think we do.”

And so, you do.

[dirt-cup-draco]

Ginny x Reader - Cruel

Ginny x reader where she’s mean to you because she has a crush on you 

“We had that game in the bag! And then Y/N had to go and muck it up, I ought to give you lessons on how to play!” Ginny grumbled, kicking off her shoes as she hastily changed in the girls’ room, glancing at you as you bit your tongue. She was always saying things that boiled your blood. You weren’t good at this, you had to mess up that.

“Oh come off it, that Malfoy brat caught the snitch, nothing we can do about it Gin,” Katie said in your defense and you shot her a grateful look. You had tried your damnedest and it wasn’t enough for the Weasley. 

Scoffing Ginny brushed past you with an unreadable look in her eye and you fell heavy onto the bench in front of your locker. “She hates me,” 

“She does not!” Came a chorus of your other teammates, but even they didn’t sound so sure. 

“I just wish I knew why...” You sighed, head falling heavy into your hands as Angelina sat beside you, rubbing your back in support. 

“Ginny’s never been good about her feelings, having emotionally constipated brothers and all that,” The girl started and you let out a bark of laughter, already feeling much better. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, if anything she wants to be friends and just doesn’t know how to ask,” 

“Funny way of showing that she wants to be friends,” You grimaced. One of the prettiest girls in school and she thought you were the dirt beneath her shoe. Sad truth was that you two had been friends once, or so you had thought. One day Ginny had just changed. She wasn’t the same girl who once upon a time would greet you with warm hugs and bright smiles. Now she couldn’t stand the sight of you it seemed, always looking away when you tried to catch her attention.

And you did try. You wanted nothing more than Ginny Weasley’s approval, if she couldn’t give you anything else. She was talented, stunning, intelligent and full of a fire that you wished you possessed. She was everything you wished you could be and everything you wanted to have. She was your idol and you her secret admirer. 

“I’m sure it will work out,” Angelina promised as she smacked your back, leaving the girls’ locker room as you finished changing. 

“Thanks Angie, I’m sure you’re right,” You tried to sound grateful but you just weren’t convinced. 

--

“Ha! Bet you couldn’t have messed up that potion even more if you tried, do you need me to help?” Ginny said pointedly as other kids around the classroom laughed, their voices echoing off the dungeon walls as your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and smeared with some goop that had exploded from your cauldron. You wiped at it with your sleeve, frustrated and close to tears.

You stayed silent as you cleaned up your cauldron but you could feel her eyes on you, other students making their own little comments that stung, but not quite as bad as Ginny’s. “10 points from Gryffindor,” Snape added, rubbing salt in your wound as your classmates hollered and groaned, only quieting at the threat of losing more points. 

You sniffled as used your dirtied robe to wipe at your eyes, scrubbing your table as class ended. You were the first to bolt out of the door, head low and eyes following your feet as you ran to your dorm. You didnt let the tears escape until you were alone, face buried in your pillow. 

--

“I could have done it better,” Ginny chided as you presented a spell in front of everyone, Flitwick asking you for a demonstration. “Maybe I ought to tutor you Y/N,” 

The shame weighed heavy on your shoulders again as you wondered what you had done wrong this time. Maybe it was your posture? Maybe the pronunciation. Was that why you didn’t get marks like everyone else? You weren’t much of a witch... Sighing you resigned to being mocked and went back to your seat. You didn’t want to be here, you would much rather be in bed right now or better than that back, back home where you didn’t have to deal with Ginny. 

“Professor, I’m not feeling so well, can I please go to the hospital wing?” You called out, voice weak and stomach churning as everyone’s eyes went to you. They were probably thinking about how stupid you looked.

Flitwick searched your eyes, a deep frown etched into his features as he nodded from his place at the front of the class. “Of course miss Y/L/N, but please visit me once you’re feeling better,” You barely gave your professor an answer before you were dashing out of his classroom, books held tightly under your arm as you tried to take a deep breath. 

You felt so stupid. You shouldn’t let her get to you, you shouldn’t be leaving class, if you left class people would think you were stupid, nobody would like you, nobody liked you. Your thoughts were taking over your mental blocks of positivity and smashing your roadblocks of reasoning. You couldn’t help but feel miserable.

Instead of going to the hospital wing, you went to your bedroom and wept. 

--

“Miss Weasley, I would like to speak with you for a moment,” Flitwick asked the redheaded girl as she started to follow her friends out of the classroom. There were several “oohs” and “youre in trouble” as she hung back, confused as to what her professor could possibly need. 

“Anything wrong professor?” Ginny asked softly, eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. 

“That’s what I would like to ask. You are friends with Y/N, yes?” He asked and Ginny nodded slowly, apprehensive. “I’ve noticed that recently she has been...lacking in her school work. I fear that she is not doing well and I wanted to ask if you knew if something was wrong,” 

“O-oh,” Ginny startled. “I didn’t know anything was wrong, I’m sorry professor, I just don’t know. Truth is, we don’t talk much, maybe you’re better suited asking her,” she suggested, feeling at a loss. What could possibly be wrong? 

Ginny watched you the next couple of days, eyes sharp as a tack and mouth sewn shut. You were sad, she realized. Your eyes were red and dark bags stood out against your usually bright complexion. Your hair was limp and you picked at your food, never really committed to eating a full meal. In quidditch practice you were withdrawn, Angelina watching you with worry as you got lost in your mind, dazed. In class you were silent, doing everything perfect, you were measured and focused, not allowing yourself to make even one mistake, your shoulders tense. 

Ginny found the only thing you truly reacted to was her voice. When she barked a command, wanting you to switch your position to practice another play, you flinched. When she offered some help in class, you went impossibly quiet, voice mousy as you turned her down. When had you become a shell of your former self? 

“Hey,” Ginny called out, catching her two friends before they could go to their next class. “What’s wrong with Y/N? Flitwick was asking,” 

Katie glanced at Angelina, nervous. “I’m sure she is just tired-” Katie started while Angelina deadpanned, “It’s your fault,” 

Ginny’s eyes snapped to Angelina, confused. “What do you mean?” 

--

You were shuffling to the library, knowing you needed to see Flitwick but too exhausted to speak with him yet. He seemed understanding, he saw you in class and followed you with worried eyes but he never pushed for you to speak to him. You would when you felt better, that’s what he had asked after all. 

It was late and the pictures on the wall waved at you, not scolding you for having your wand out, lumos bright and glaring in the empty hallway. They had come to expect you sneaking in past acceptable hours. Madam Pince and you had struck up a small deal after she realized you were in a delicate state. 

You needed an escape and time to do homework and she had the library locked up tight where no students could bully you. 

“Good day to you,” A gentleman in one painting spoke, tipping his hat towards you and you smiled. You had found friends in the paintings, the only ones who didn’t judge you. 

You knew you had Angie and Katie and even Fred and George but Ginny was a superstar, you would never be as important as she was. “And to you,” You smiled but it dropped when you heard rushed footsteps. You had permission to be out, but you feared if it was Snape he would subtract points from your house for not getting to the library quickly enough, making your housemates dislike you more. You sped up but found you couldn’t keep up, a hand clamping around your upper arm as you yelped in surprise.

“It’s just me! Just me!” Ginny repeated as you tried to catch your breath, scared out of your wits, but you found that you couldn’t catch a proper breath with the girl in front of you around. Someone you had once longed to be beside you now dreaded to see. 

“Gin, what are you doing?” You asked, shrugging your arm out of her grip as you became defensive. 

“I wanted to talk,” She said easily.

“About what? I’m sorry but I’ve really got to go,” You apologized halfheartedly, letting your feet carry you towards the library but you were stopped again by the most persistent Weasley. 

“About you,” She said and you immediately shrunk in on yourself. 

“I don’t want any trouble Ginny, please,” You said softly this time, eyes begging with her to leave you alone. 

Ginny was speechless for a moment. You looked scared. Like she would bite your head off any moment. She had never meant for this to happen... “No, no, Y/N, I don’t want trouble either. I-I talked to Flitwick, he was worried about you. He asked if I knew what was wrong and I didn’t have a clue. I went to talk to Angie and she told me, well she told me I was the reason. I didn’t know I was making you feel so awful, I’m so sorry. I really like you, more than a friend, I freak out every time I’m around you and I mess up. I never meant to hurt you” Her voice was like a song and her words were earnest but it was a bitter taste in your mouth.

“If you truly liked me the way you say you do you would have never said those things in the first place,” You couldn’t help but feel angry. Ginny was everything to you and she had ripped you to shreds, filled your head with self doubt and drop kicked you to your lowest low, all because she had a crush? 

“Y/N, I didn’t mean it... I like you a lot, please let me fix this?” She looked dejected and you wondered when the last time was that someone had turned down the wonderful Ginny Weasley. You found yourself wanting to apologize to her, to tell her of course you would let her fix this but you were hurt. 

“I’m sorry Gin... I forgive you but I can’t forget how you made me feel. I’ve been going crazy for weeks trying to understand what I did to make you want to make me feel so miserable. I don’t think it would be good for me to be around you right now, I want to be friends and maybe one day I’ll feel the same way I used to but you were cruel Ginny, there is no other word for it. 

“But I-”

“Thank you for apologizing, really, thank you” You interrupted, smiling at her gently. “You are a good person Gin, I know that. But I need time to learn how to love myself again even when others dont, that’s all I’m asking for,” 

The girl finally nodded, stomach tied in knots. “So if I ask you on a date next Saturday?” 

You looked at her in shock but laughed at her persistence, her scared look morphing into a proud smile. “A little too soon, but keep trying,” You encouraged, knowing you didn’t want her out of your life for long. 

“If that’s what you want, I won’t stop,” She promised and you blushed, hanging your head low in embarrassment. Even when you were trying to be upset with her she was cute. 

“Goodnight Ginny,” You settled on, still needing to study. 

“Goodnight Y/N, I’m sorry,” She said one more time, as much for herself as it was for you. 

Ginny didn’t sleep that night, thinking long and hard. No matter how long she had to wait she would make it up to you, she had never intended to drag you to such a bad and negative space. Even if you couldn’t return her feelings she would put a smile back on your face. 

[renaxwrites]

Eleven

.07 - Night Changes 

synopsis: the number Eleven had always appeared in milestones of your life. it was a constant, and you didn’t know why. but you would soon find out when you study abroad in japan and meet Him.

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

warnings: none!

masterlist: here :)

a/n: hello again! it’s been a minute, and I haven’t been posting as much due to spending most of my spare time keeping informed on everything going onion world. it really has been stressful and overwhelming at times, I’ll be honest. however, if ANY of you need anyone to talk to or rant, don’t hesitate to message me! the best thing we can do is support one another as human beings. sorry if this chapter is long btw, lol. hope you enjoy <3 (English will be in bold) (here’s a link to the song in this chapter)

previous || next

Moon is lighting up her skin. She's falling, doesn't even know it yet. 

Tsukishima was the most difficult person you’ve ever tried to read. Silent but deadly. It was the things he wouldn’t say that would leave you both curious and afraid all at once. 

Yet you were falling deeper into his schemes. 

You weren’t sure what to make of your short, yet intimate, moment with the boy. And it wasn’t helping that the number Eleven kept conveniently popping up more often, as if trying to send you signs about the situation. Tsukishima, being the wild card that he is, wasn't helping either. However, as time went on, you began to learn to read between the lines of his behavior. 

At home, there would be light brushing on shoulders. Stray hairs being tucked into the back of your ear. The way he can’t seem to look you in the eye when he acknowledges the quality of your photos every so often.

At school, it was just like nothing happened between you two. However, even though he kept up his salty demeanor, the others could tell there was a smidge of a soft spot reserved for you. 

As the trip to Tokyo was getting closer, the team started to kick their practices into high gear. You had decided change your photography time of the boys a bit shorter than normal from then on, so you can help out Yachi and Kiyoko. 

The boys were on their break, and many of them went outside to indulge in some energy drinks being passed out. You sit on the sideline and begin to zone out, not noticing Suga saunter over and plop down next to you. 

“Sounds like something’s troubling you. You alright?”

You turn to see a him offering a curious smile, with a light touch of concern. 

“Sound? Did I say something out loud? Aw man, that’s great,” you sigh, suddenly embarrassed.

Suga shook his head. “No, you didn’t. Thinking can just appear very loud at times. Wanna talk about it?”

You ponder for a quick moment, deciding it was safe to confide in the vice-captain. “Just...boy trouble. Basically the summary.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I can relate to you there,” he tips his head back and sighs. 

You flinch in disbelief. “What? You’re joking, right? And why would you be having trouble? I can’t believe it.”

He laughs. “Me either, sometimes. But yeah...”

There’s a beat of silence before he suggests, “I’ll share if you do. That is, if you’re comfortable. If not, totally understandable.”

“Actually, it would be nice to confide in someone with a different perspective. I mean, I love Yachi, but I don’t want to keep bombarding her with my guy troubles. So, sure,” you admit. 

“Yeah, it’s been a while for me too. So, go ahead.”

You explain the whole spiel with the number Eleven. You were careful when mentioning your family’s background. Although the conversation was light-hearted, you trusted Suga with your past, and were rewarded with comfort as he held your hand in support. He didn’t give you the familiar pity you usually got. Instead, he intently hung onto your every word. From the very beginning with your parents, to the linked pinkies with Tsukishima, Suga nodded along, waiting until you finished to offer his insight. 

Once you were done, you heave a big sigh. “Whew, that was a lot. Sorry for just dumping the whole shebang on you.”

“No need to be sorry, y/n-chan. I’m glad you trusted me. Now, regarding Tsukishima, I definitely can see something’s happening. Not just me, either, the whole team kinda figures he is feeling something about you that he doesn’t with others. But, now that you explained it, it makes perfect sense.” 

He places his hand on his chin in contemplation. “I totally feel how you do with not being able to ‘figure him out’. There are signs that I feel are really special with this guy, but then I overthink it, which then leads me to wonder if it’s simply signs of being nothing more than a friend, ya know?” 

You nod, “Exactly. Do you mind if I ask who it may be that’s leading you in circles?”

He chuckles. “Want to take a guess?”

You tap your lips, trying to recall any details he might have given. “Well, the only people I see you consistently hang out with outside of the club is the other thirds years. Definitely not Asahi. And you’re not pining for Kiyoko-chan like Nishinoya and Tanaka, so I’m assuming it have to be...Daichi?”

Suga playfully shoves his shoves his shoulder against yours. “Well look at you, big ol’ detective, you. Your first try. And yeah, it is.” He sighs. “At least that explains a lot that I’ve mentioned, huh?”

“Yeah. Seems like we’re both in a rut.”

You both laugh, then sit in a comfortable silence for a moment. 

He lights up. “What if...there was a way...to tell them how we felt...but without actually telling them?”

Confused, you look at him with furrowed brows and curious eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well, next week the whole team and a few players from other schools are all going to get together at this little place downtown, just to have a ‘last hurrah’ before the tournament. Arcade games, karaoke, food bar, all kinds of fun stuff!” he starts to ramble about the place.

Gently cutting him off, you question, “But what exactly does this have to do with ‘confessing our feelings without actually confessing?’” You gesture little air quotes.

He goops your nose. “Did I not mention there was karaoke? Every year there’s a little tradition between everyone of having a karaoke session. Everyone has to sing at least once. Managers don’t have to, but there’s always exceptions!”

“So? Oh wait, don’t tell me...Suga noooo...”

“Suga yes.” he counters, knowing that you both know where this was going. “You and I will be up there together! Confessing without confessing! Is that a great plan or what?”

“Sure, Suga, but I don’t sing,” you try to worm your way out of his plan.

“Oh hush! Not everyone knows how to sing, but everyone knows how to karaoke. And besides, I’ve heard you sing before. You’re awesome! Those vocal chords could give an angel a run for their money.” he gives his blinding smile. 

You flush a deep red. “You’ve...heard me sing before? Where?! When?! HOW?”

He puts his hand up in defense. “It was outside the gym. A few days ago. You and Yachi were singing your favorite Ariana Grande song because you were both loudly trying to decide which album was better.”

You hide your head in your hands. “Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing. Let me just launch myself into the face of the earth real quick.”

“Y/n-chan, you sing beautifully, there’s no need to be embarrassed. Suga takes your hands and makes you look up. “How about this. Today we were going to Ukai’s store to get some meat buns anyway. Let me walk with you and I’ll sing for you. I heard you sing, so you can hear me. We’ll be even that way. Okay?”

You consider it before agreeing. Once you said yes, Suga engulfs you in a hug, which you wholeheartedly reciprocate. 

“Alright, seems like the break is over. See you in a bit, y/n-chan!”

You break the hug just as the team walked back in the gym. A few people saw, but didn’t think much of it. 

The ones who did think of it were the two boys you and Suga just talked about. 

           ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The whole team was in spirits for the most part. Who wouldn’t be when Coach Ukai was treating them all to meat buns?

Most of the boys were following close to the coach, eager for their treat. Especially the freak-quick duo, who obviously felt like they needed to have a race to the store.

Most players were walking in their respective groups and pairs, but the you and Suga managed to fade to the back of the pack, almost unnoticed. You both decided to slow your pace, to widen the gap a little between you and the others.

“Well, I promised you a song. Which one should I do?” Suga asked. You remember that he heard you sing but don’t remember what song it was that day.

“Sing the one I did when you heard me that day?” you suggest.

He laughs and puts a hand on the back of his neck. “You were singing it in English, so I only understood a couple words...would you translate maybe?”

Suddenly you remember. “Oh! It was ‘Moonlight’ by Ariana. Some of it I could only do in English for some reason.”

Suga let’s out a noise of realization, forming a small ‘o’ with his lips. “I know that one! My classmate showed me that song, it’s really good! But I don’t remember much to be honest.”

Feeling a tad bit braver, you suggest you sing it together, you with what you know in English and him Japanese.

“Good idea! Then we can kinda see what we sound like together. Okay let me hey look up the song on my phone...”

By this point, the team was way ahead, so it was assumed they wouldn’t hear you two. You both designate your respected parts to be organized in the vocals. Once you thought it was safe, the audio starts.

Suga begins the first verse.

“The sun is setting, and your right here by my side...And the movie is playing, but we won’t be watching tonight...”

To say he sang beautifully was an understatement. His voice was velvet, light feather tips tickling your eardrums. The soothing tones of his voice washed all your fear away, giving you the courage to continue with your verse.

“Every look, every touch, make me want to give you my heart. I be crushin’ on you baby, stay right where you are...”

Once you started, he eyes sparkled with wonder. Seeing his reaction be full of awe encouraged you to keep going.

“Cause I never knew, I never knew... You could hold moonlight on your hands, till the night I held you...”

Suga joins in to harmonize as you hold out: “You are my moonlight...Moonlight...”

The song eventually ends. Just in time for you two to arrive at Ukai’s store, where the rest of the team was already chowin down on there snacks.

You and Suga flatter each other with praise, with you even throwing in a pun of how his voice was like ‘suga’.

Your loud compliment-competition caught the eyes of the teammates.

“Well, that’s new,” Daichi states before biting into his meatbun.

The second-years, first-years, and Asahi glance over to the two of you intensely conversate.

“Do you think something’s up?” Asahi suggests.

“I’m not sure. It’s not bad, I’ve just never seen them talk one-on-one, so it’s surprising to see them together like that, that’s all.”

“You don’t think y/n-chan and Suga-senpai...like...like each other. Do you?” innocent and naive Hinata says.

Nishinoya and Tanaka immediately go on defense mode. “Not our precious manager!! She must not be tainted with the sins of men!! We must protect her at all costs!!”

A big sigh is heard, and the boys turn to the culprit, only to find Kiyoko and Yachi look exasperated.

“They’re not into each other. Just because they’re having a conversation about something they’re both passionate about doesn’t immediately assume that they’re into each other,” Kitoko shakes her head, causing them to second-guess their assumptions.

Yachi also shares her piece. “Boys. So gullible.”

“Agreed.”

The two girls turn and head home, leaving the boys to reconsider their assumptions.

“Probably not that big of a deal.” “Yeah she’s right, what’s the harm.” “Eh.”

Tsukishima, although he didn’t offer any comments, only showed his thoughts when you two walked home. Short answers. Slightly colder silence than usual. Bidding you a short “‘Night” before going to bed, instead of his usual “Goodnight y/n”.

You were unsure at his sudden change in behavior, but once you tucked yourself in, you see that Suga sent you a text: “So, are you in on the plan?”

The time on your phone changed to Eleven o’clock.

“Let’s do it.”

Does it ever drive you crazy...Just how fast the night changes?

taglist: @jiminslonglostjams @fantasymirror @shewastheriot @lukes-princess @iamthepenguinwhosearseisonfire @its-bnha-babe @desi-studys @shootooooo @noya-senpai-imagines @animefan7420 @anpancari @tsukkx @cadabby @thoebe-fly @it-was-just-a-ship @imconfusedanditsok @alexa360b34st @delicious-peaches-blog @shinguchi @creammy0 @fandoms-on-main @smellybananaz @keikink @tsukiak4ri @skyguy-peach

[mangorokie]

Adrienne's moving castle (Agent 24, Howl's moving castle AU)

(This AU is based off old cross over artworks I made of Adrienne and Livia with howl's moving castle. Sophie is Livia and Howl is Adrienne!)

Chapter #1- Magic

The sun shined throughout the town of Inkopolis. A crowd of people came and go as they pleased, buying any essential needs, kids happily laughing as they chase eachother, planes rushing through the air.

But throughout a little window of a manor, peeked a pink octoling. She was sewing her own handmade hats to show off in her little hat shop. This was basically her whole life, needle comes in, thread comes out, and the whole thing repeats. "Oh look! It's Adrienne's moving castle!" She heard Callie giggle, Adrienne's moving castle? Livia never thought such a thing exists...She looked through her window, seeing a big machine moving through the gray clouds. She has heard some tales of this so called 'Adrienne'. Most of them was about her stealing any beautiful maiden's heart. She won't need to worry about that though, Livia doesn't really think her own self is beautiful.

"Livia!" a knock on the door startled her. "Yes?" She turned her head facing the door, a turquiose octoling opening the door smiling, "Livia dear, do you want to come along with Pearlie, Callie, Marie,and I? You haven't shopped with us in a whole while." Livia smiled back, "I'm fine, Marina. thank you for the offer." "Oh okay- Suit yourself then! Let's go girls!" Marina walks out leaving the door open, she could faintly hear the laughter of Callie and Pearl. The then laughter cutting off by the sound of the front door shutting. Happiness and Enjoyment is something Livia craved....

Making hats was the only thing that kept Livia stable, it's what her father always did. And she knows her father would be proud of her, even though it's the only thing she did her whole life ever since he died...that thought made her frown. She looked at the window infront of her, the train passed, gray smoke covering her view. Marina was right though, she hasn't been outside for a while. Turning her head, Behind her was a dark pink dress,along with her favorite hat on the stand. Yeah, maybe just this day could be a time to get some fresh air. She should pay a visit to her friend,Diana, who has been working at the very popular bakery near the royal city. Livia grabbed the dress and went into her bathroom, she set the hung the dress on a rack and washed her face with water.

Drying up her face with a towel, she looked up at the mirror. Her face... one of the last things she'll ever want to look at. Everything about the way she looked made her feel really uneasy. Livia shook her head, No. Stop. Stop looking at the mirror. Stop looking..... She turned her head to the dress, putting it on layer by layer. Then putting on her hat, walking out the bathroom, purposefully avoiding to look at the mirror.

Livia walked out the room, heading to the main door. Taking one small glimpse at the house before closing the door. She walked down the front courtyard, her little hat shop right next the main gate. She waved her hand, ordering the guard to open the gate. The guard nodded and pulled a lever, the gate slowly opened. Livia quickly exited her home residence, hearing the chimes of the cart that come by every few hours so. The brakes got hit, screeching on the rails. She saw that the cart was full inside so she clinged onto the bar entrance of the train. The conductor rang his bell, starting the cart to move.

The wind swiftly gusted through, her hair and hat slowly moving. She gazed at the horizon, boats moving around, seagulls flying, and the endless area of water. It was a radiant sight,one of Livia's favorite things in the town..

She dozed out while looking at the view, until she got startled by the agressive bell the conductor was ringing. "Royal City! Royal City! Now aboarding and deboarding all riders! Next stop will be the Village!" That was her que, she let go of the bar and joined into the large crowd. Parades were happening, apparently they were wishing the soldiers luck for the upcoming war. The soldiers were marching in sync, their black metal boots making noises as they stomp, golden medals on their straps, and their ocean blue monkey suit uniforms as they hold their guns. Livia's eyes widened in satisfication, they looked rather fashionable. Though she didn't like being stuck in a crowd with multiple people, so she quickly rushed her way to an alley.

She sighed and calmed herself down, then continued to walk down the alley. Small shops were there as well, 'Fortune telling' 'Potions and brews' 'Spells and Scrolls'. All of them had to do with...magic. Magic is one of the things Livia doesn't understand in this world. Is it a curse? A gift? What could it be? What is the purpose of magic? Nevermind that, she shook her head and slightly walked faster in frustration, but she was stopped by 2 tall soldiers. One with blue tentacles, and the other, orange tentacles with a big mustache.

"Hey there, seems like a little mouse has lost its way~" The blue inkling winked at Livia, "Oh no- I'm fine really," she slowly started to back off to keep her distance but they kept getting closer, "I'm just taking a short cut to the royal bakery." The orange inkling bent down, "Well then, how old are you and where do you live? you sure you don't need some company?~" Livia pushed him off, "Leave me alone!". The blue inkling nudged the other soldier's arm, "See? Your mustache scares all the girls." He nudged him back, "Hey, she's even cuter when she's scared."

A hand gently got placed behind Livia on her shoulder, causing her to flinch a little bit. "There you are, sweetheart." A soft, tendered voice immediately came in, "I'm sorry for the wait, I was looking everywhere for you~". Livia looked up, seeing a tall, green inkling by her side, she blushed at the sight. The blue haired soldier raised an eyebrow, "hey,hey, we're busy here!", "oh really? I thought soldiers were supposed to be guarding in their position right? So you both be good little soldiers, and go back to your post." The girl behind Livia raised her finger, then pointing it in the opposite direction, commanding the 2 soldiers to stand up straight and march unwillingly down the alley,"Woah-Hey!"

The taller girl looked down at Livia, talking in a concerned tone, "My dear, you can't go through these allies by yourself. You know how much I don't want you to get hurt. Now let's get going to the royal bakery, shall we?" She turned her hand infront of Livia, waiting for her to place her own hand there. Livia was confused, who was this tall...gorgeous inkling that was standing right next to her? She's quite charming, it won't hurt to ask right? "I mean...I'm flattered but..who are you?" The inkling girl was about to answer, but she glanced over Livia's shoulder, noticing the sanitized goop moving slowly. She had to do something quick, "I'll explain that later. Just hold onto my hand. I'm being followed." The pink octoling was left confused, but she did it anyway. As soon as they interwined fingers, they started walking rapidly. Livia looked around, noticing mint green goop starting to form into one whole pile, then chasing both her and her other companion. "Sorry, seems like you're involved. Just act natural okay?" The inkling somehow kept a straight smile on her face, but Livia was shocked. She whispered to the taller girl, trying to keep a calm tone, "What are those things and why are they coming for us?".

"Shhh, just follow my lead," She comforted the octoling, "On 1," Livia grunted in annoyance, but looked forward and noticed they were walking towards a dead end. Oh god what was this inkling thinking? "2," She noticed the green tentacles slowly starting to float, wait...what's going on?! "3!" The inkling exclaimed and jumped high up, bringing the shorter girl along with her. Livia looked down, seeing the mint goop smush together. Ew, though her attention quickly went back to the inkling right next to her. Next thing she knew was that she and her were floating ontop of all those people!

"Wh-" Livia gasped, but Adrienne positoned her to keep her steady. Her fingers interwined with the octoling's, their arms spread out and their clothes and hair slightly floating, "Just spread your legs, and start walking!" The two of them waltzed through the air, Livia's eyes widened. All those people jammed up, dressed up all fancy, soldiers chatting with eachother, people sitting at tables and laughing. It was scary to walk so high above, but it was an enjoyable experience at least. The green inkling smiled, "See? Not so hard is it?"

The two started to slowly descend, landing on a wooden balcony of the royal bakery. "Hey, Livia." The octoling raised her head, how'd she know her name? "Make sure you wait for a bit until I draw those nasty monsters off, okay?" Livia nodded her head, "That's my girl~" Adrienne smiled and jumped off, disappearing into the crowd. "What..." she was still slightly confused.

Diana smiles at all the soldiers and customers, giving out sweets and pastries. "Alright!," her sweet voice giggled, "one at a time will you?". "Hey Miss Diana! Care to bring over the blueberry sweets? You look fabulous by the way!" A soldier called out to her, "Alrighty! Just let me find that and-" she got pulled over by a friend of hers, whispering a few words into her ear. "She what?!" Diana rushed out the counter and went up the stairs, "Hey! Hey! what about my treats?" A random customer called out.

Diana rushed on the top of the wooden balcony, catching her breath, then seeing Livia leaning on the fence,looking out the crowds. "Livia! Someone just told me they saw you waltzing in the air!" "I really don't know what happened...a random inkling girl just picked me up and it all happened in a flash-" Diana grabbed Livia's hands, "It's Adrienne! That no good sanitized playgirl! Livia you have to be more careful!" Livia let go of Diana's grasp. It was Adrienne? The one who...has the moving castle? That made a whole lot of sense now.

The two of them walked down the stairs. Diana escorting Livia to the exit, "Still Livia, you need to be more cautious...or else she'll steal your heart!" "That's nonsense,she only goes for beautiful girls." Her voice faded, "Don't give me that, you know what I mean. " A door opens from beside, a baker with a bright smile "Hey Diana! The customers are in need for your service!" "Alright, I'll be there in a bit!"

She dusted her dress, Livia twirled her hair, "Whatever, she won't find me anyway. I'll be hiding in my hat workshop. It's suitable for me also so-" "No- Liv- That's another thing. You can't spend your whole life working in that hat shop!" "But it's what my father would've wanted,he always wanted the shop to keep living for generations." Diana frowned, "I'm not talking about what your father wants, i'm talking about what you want!" A random guy walked by holding 3 boxes, "Hey Diana!" "Hello there!" Diana smiled back at him. Livia walked back, feeling unwanted, "I should get going..." Livia walked away, The orange girl shouted back at her, "Do something for yourself just once, Livia! Please!" She waved her hand at the inkling, "Bye, Diana."

Livia walked down the street, boarding back onto the train cart. Riding back to her little manor.

[monkeymindscream]

You've had Warden Wrath hcs, what about our dear Emperor Belos?

Of COURSE I have headcanons for Emperor Belos I love him!!

- He is ridiculously charismatic. This is the guy who managed to gain the support of an entire populace and radically alter their way life shortly after appearing seemingly from nowhere. Even if we assume that the majority of that influence came from people believing he could talk to the Titan, he still would’ve had to make them believe he could in the first place. A big part of the borderline-worship admiration his subjects have for him stems from his people skills back before he shut himself up in his castle.

- Pumpdrake spice season is his favorite time of year. What is a pumpdrake, you ask? It’s the botanical Frankenstein of a pumpkin and a mandrake. Instead of “carving jack’o’lanterns,” the tradition on the Boiling Isles is to hunt and slay the pumpdrake with the face/expression you want. Afterwards you gut your kill then display its rigor-mortis-ridden carcass on your porch or in your window or something. The guts themselves are super flavorful, with the smaller, more yellow-y ones being more savory (often used in soups and things) and the darker orange ones being sweet (the aforementioned pumpdrake spice). EB will eagerly consume literally anything containing pumpdrake spice in it. — Also: Like on Earth, there’s kind of a stigma against openly liking pumpdrake spice, because God forbid anyone be allowed to like harmless things on this wretched plain of existence. It’s a good way to get yourself labeled as “basic,” actually. Enter our Emperor, gracefully not giving a damn. Should he ever come across anyone complaining about people liking pumpdrake spice, he’d likely take great pleasure in materializing behind them and politely interjecting, “Well I happen to quite like pumpdrake spice, actually; would you care to explain to me why you’re so offended by it?” then quietly enjoy the rest of his drink as they shat themselves and tried to backpedal. — I have no idea how he enjoys the aforementioned drink while wearing his mask. Maybe he pours it into his eyes like he did with the palisman innards; maybe he has some sort of proboscis that pokes out from under his mask that he uses to slurp it up. Maybe he just uses a straw. Who’s to say.

- He has a genuine soft spot for Kikimora. This derives solely from the fact that he called her “Kiki” at the end of Young Blood, Old Souls. Like yes I know Lilith called her “Kiki” too and they obviously didn’t care for each other, but look: as far as we’d seen up until that moment EB referred to people almost exclusively by their formal full name/an unshortened form of their first name (“Edalyn/Lilith Clawthorne”), or by a derisive title (“Human”). But he gave Kikimora a (seemingly honestly affectionate??) nickname of sorts. Plus she’s essentially his face and mouth when he either doesn’t feel like making public appearances or just plain can’t - that has to imply at least some level of trust there. — Kiki’s fully aware of this, and is insufferably smug about it. She’s lucky the Isles’ Top Dog likes her, because literally no one else does. (She’s not particularly bothered.)

- Romance is his favorite book genre, believe it or not. Or at least it would be if the writers on the Boiling Isles could step away from clichés for five freaking seconds. — DO NOT GET HIM STARTED ON PINIET PUBLISHING HOUSE THEIR BOOKS ARE THE WORST OFFENDERS OF THEM ALL. Hell, their books are the reason half those clichés are even clichés to begin with - they mass produce utter shit. He’s wanted to petrify righteously arrest Piniet for years, but Kiki always stops him by pointing out that the publishing company’s books are wildly popular amongst his coven (the whole Isle, really, but speaking specifically here) and destroying the source would likely cause a massive dip in morale. And anyway, he hasn’t technically done anything legally wrong that they could bring him in for - it’s ultimately more trouble than it’s worth.

- He’s fucking clueless when it comes to some of the actual responsibilities that come with keeping an empire running. Don’t get me wrong, he understands there are certain things that need to get done, and he understands why they need to be done. He just doesn’t have the instincts for how. Like if some official-whoever were to come up to him and ask him “Emperor,  how do you plan to stimulate the economy in some of the Isles’ poorer areas?” he’d be lost. Fuck if he knows, man, how is one person supposed to be able to answer that?? He knows magic - he has dissected magic down to its core and could list the names of all its squishy bits by heart. He knows greater-scope things. He does not know how to break-up infighting between two townships. — When he’s asked questions like this, he will usually respond by looking to his right. Kiki (who was standing there, waiting) will then promptly step forward, say something to the effect of “The Emperor has discussed this issue with me previously, he is of the mind that-” and will then offer a suggestion. No one questions it because well the Emperor is sitting literally right there, so obviously if he had any issues with it he’d have punted the little gremlin into orbit by now, right? Everyone just assumes EB doesn’t feel like repeating himself when he’s already discussed it with his assistant. Truth is Kiki pulled that out of her ass on the spot. Lucky for the Isles she’s good at her job. — This plays a big part in why EB’s likes Kiki so much. She takes a good chunk of responsibility and stress off his shoulders so he can focus on whatever mysterious tasks the Titan may (or may not we’ll have to see) be instructing him to complete.

- His omnipresent/all-seeing shtick comes from his connection to the Titan. By virtue of the Isle literally being made from their body, the Titan is, essentially, everywhere. Therefore, EB’s awareness spreads everywhere. This has limits, obviously, since at the end of the day EB’s just one person and can only split his focus so many ways (not to mention it takes more energy to “see” the farther he looks away from his physical self), but it’s still more than what most people can do. Even more than what most Oracle witches can do.

- He takes abysmal care of himself. Yes, I know, it’s shocking to think that the guy who’s dumping magic goop into his face wouldn’t be a paragon of self-care, but trust me on this one. He will go days without sleep then get frustrated that his body is behaving so sluggishly; he’ll neglect to eat until his stomach is so empty it’s cramping, and he’ll still put it off for “just a bit more, it can wait for just a little longer.” The man is a disaster. — This also actually stems from his connection with the Titan. Over time, EB has become so entwined with it (see: its heart beating faster when he’s agitated/excited) that his own body has slowly stopped registering its own needs. Its attuned to what the Titan needs, and the Titan doesn’t need anything. Which is a flawed fucking system, really, because he still needs everything, he just has no way to gauge when or how much anymore.

- The reason the main nine covens are “the main nine” is specifically because they’re each a track of magic that EB is proficient in. And as the creator of the coven system, he got first say in which ones were quote “important.”

I have more (because if left sit long enough I could talk about my favorite characters for days) but a good chunk of what’s left kind of move out of “headcanon” territory and into “theories,” so I’ll stop here. If anyone’s interested in hearing the theories (or AUs, or ships, or whatever) feel free to send an ask and I’ll ramble some more.

[atths--twice]

Finding the Right Chord

Mulder picks up an old purchase, finding the effect of it is one he did not expect, but is most welcome.

This story came about for a couple of reasons. One- I had been thinking of it for awhile now, and two- I saw a tweet and it pushed the idea ahead. I had a lot of fun with it and I hope you enjoy it. ❤️

May 2017

He had bought it as a joke years ago, bringing it home to see Scully’s reaction. She had laughed and then shaken her head, knowing it would be one more thing that sat in their home collecting dust.

For the most part, that was what it had done, sitting in a corner of his office, a sweatshirt thrown over it one day after a run. He would glance at it from time to time, deciding that would be the day he would pick it up and actually use it.

But then, an email would come in, or an article would grab his attention and it would once more be forgotten.

One night, as he was alone in the house, the silence pressing in on all sides, he stood in the office he no longer used, the desk now sitting in the living room. He looked around the room at his past, at the things that had seemed so important and he shook his head.

He sighed at the numerous articles thumbtacked to the wall, the blurry photos of “evidence,” and the piles of papers containing within them the obsession that had caused Scully to finally leave him, the weight of it becoming too heavy for her to bear.

Shaking his head again, he turned to leave, when his eyes fell onto the item in the corner. Stepping into the room, he moved things out of the way and picked it up. Leaving the room, he walked into the kitchen and wiped off the dust that had settled upon the guitar he had bought as a corny joke.

Staring at it, he let out a deep breath. He had never played an instrument. Well, not in any serious way. There had been music class in elementary school when he had learned to read music and play what was in the classroom, but nothing after it in his adult life.

He held the guitar and strummed it, not knowing if it was even in tune after years of not being used. Messing with it, he tried to see if it changed much, but he shook his head, not hearing a marked difference.

Walking around the house he played it, finding he enjoyed the feel of the strings beneath his fingers. He stepped out onto the porch and sat on the railing, looking out at the sunset as he played a random tune, liking what he had created.

As the sun went down fully, he stopped playing and set the guitar beside him on the porch. Crossing his arms, he looked into the empty house, wishing Scully was there, coming out and giving him a look as she saw the guitar. She would have something witty to say, something he would counter as he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her.

“God,” he said quietly, shaking his head and standing up as he grabbed the guitar and headed inside, missing her greatly.

__________________________

September 2017

“What’s that doing out here?” Scully said, as she set a case file down on the kitchen table.

“Hmm?” he asked, glancing at a photo in the file.

“Mulder,” she said and he glanced up to find her pointing at the guitar. “Is that the same one you bought years ago. I didn’t even know you still had it. Are you… playing it?” She looked at him and he saw something cross her face that he could not place.

“Playing it would imply that I know what I’m doing. So… no,” he said with a laugh and she nodded with a smile, the expression he had seen no longer there.

“Are you going to take lessons? Or just… wing it?” He looked at her and saw that she was serious and not teasing him as he thought she would.

“Lessons? No. I… I don’t think I would do well in lessons.” He smiled at her and she nodded, her smile changing and her eyes shining.

“Wouldn’t take too well to an authority figure?”

“Ha ha. You’re hilarious, Agent Scully,” he said, handing her the file as they sat down. “I don’t know, I brought it out here… months ago. I had forgotten it was there, to be honest.” She nodded and any further discussion of the guitar halted.

After she left, with plans to fly out to Montana in the morning to investigate the case deeper, he looked at the guitar and made a decision. He would attempt to learn how to play, even though it would be slow going.

___________________

January 2018

“So… I see the guitar is still sitting out here,” Scully said, as he took the Bigfoot mold of most likely not taint flavored Goop-O into the kitchen. He smiled as he set it down and turned to look at her.

“It is,” he responded and she nodded with a smile.

“Have you learned to play anything? Or does it just sit there and look pretty?”

“No. The only thing that sits and looks pretty in this house is you,” he quipped with a wink and she rolled her eyes. He grinned and she crossed her arms as she leaned back against the couch.

“So, you haven’t learned to play anything then?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” He smiled and she raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Play me something,” she said with a shrug and he nodded, walking out of the kitchen.

“I can’t play you something, I can only play one thing. For now, anyway.” Picking up the guitar, he walked over to her. “I looked for a tutorial online and found that this song was the easiest to learn.”

“Wait,” she said, sitting forward and staring at him. “You really learned a song? I was just joking around with you. I didn’t expect you to actually know a song.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” he said with a smile, sitting on the coffee table and taking the pick from the guitar. He strummed a few chords and her mouth dropped open, watching his hands and then looking at him, her eyes wide.

“Now… like I said,” he told her, tuning the guitar and playing the chords again. “It’s the only one I know and it took a little while to learn, so… no encores, okay? No calling out for “Freebird” or anything.” He grinned at her and she nodded, her elbows on her knees and her hands folded against her lips.

Clearing his throat, he started to play, humming before he closed his eyes and began to sing softly.

Won't you let me catch your fall Won't you let me lend a hand Those lonely eyes have seen it all But love's too blind to understand Cause you don't know what you have Til your everything is gone You need someone to show you how to live again

I wanna be there when you're feeling high I wanna be there when you wanna die I'm gonna light your fire I’m gonna fuel your flame I wanna be there when you go insane I wanna be there when you're feeling down And I'll be there when your head is spinnin' round Gonna be your lover Gonna be your friend I wanna be there til the end

He opened his eyes, realizing now how the words of the song sounded as he sang them to her and not just as he had learned the chords.

“I uhh,” he said, putting the pick back and setting the guitar down. “I think I could still do with a little practice.”

He smiled as he looked up at her and saw she had tears in her eyes. Shaking her head, she wiped them away and took a deep breath.

“Please keep going,” she whispered and he stared at her. She nodded and smiled slightly, bumping his knees with her own and breathing deeply again.

He nodded and picked up the guitar, strumming it as he began to sing again, keeping his eyes on hers, knowing the words that were coming and not wanting to hurt her or cause her to walk out the door.

You wouldn't know that I was there Cause I have been there all the time And if I had my way I'd hold you in my arms And leave this madness all behind Cause you got so much to give But you throw it all away And all you got to show for who you are is pain And I've got so much to give If you'd only let me in I'm gonna take the time to show that I'm a friend You'll believe in love again

I wanna be there in the pouring rain I wanna be there when you call my name I’m gonna light your fire I’m gonna fuel your flame I wanna be there when you go insane I wanna be there when I'm outta town And when your damn world is crashing down I'm gonna be your lover Gonna be your friend I wanna be there till the end

She put her hands on the guitar and stopped him from playing, taking it from him and laying it on the couch. He licked his lips, worried that the positive steps they had taken recently were all for naught and she was upset with him.

“Scully, I-”

But then she was in his lap, kissing him, her hands in his hair. He gripped her waist, holding her close as their kiss deepened, his hands sliding under her shirt and stroking her skin.

They never made it farther than the floor in front of the couch, not even taking the time to remove all of  their clothing. She still wore her bra and his pants and boxers were bunched around his knees.

“So…” he said, breathing hard as he lay on top of her. “You liked the song?” She laughed, her fingernails scratching at his back a little harder than she normally did.

“Hmm,” she hummed, tugging at his hair. He lifted his head and looked at her, finding her smiling. “I loved it. Remind me later that we should keep a lighter on hand.”

“Oh, I don’t think we need a lighter. You got plenty hot enough.” He grinned at her and she laughed.

“That I did,” she agreed, staring into his eyes and stroking his face. “You should have learned to play that guitar years ago.” He chuckled and laid his head back against her neck, his lips at her throat.

“If I had known that musicians did it for you… well,” he whispered, placing open mouthed kisses on her pulse point, his teeth scraping gently.

“Hmm… no need to worry, I’ll make you a list of other songs to make up for it. Maybe some Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young…”

“Don't you ever ask them why, if they told you, you will cry. So just look at them and sigh and know they love you,” he sang quietly and she moaned, her fingernails pressing into his neck.

“Jesus, Mulder,” she whispered and he chuckled softly, kissing her throat again, as any other songs or artists were momentarily forgotten.

_____________________

May 2019

Mulder sat on the top of the porch stairs, the spring sun setting as he tuned the guitar that had sat unused for nearly a year. With the pregnancy and then taking care of a newborn, the guitar had once more been a dust collector more than a musical instrument.

He smiled as he played the chords of a new song he had looked up, finding it not too difficult. Trying it out again, he sang the song quietly, trying to get it right before he would sing it for Faith tomorrow.

The screen door creaked open and he looked up and saw Scully standing there staring at him. She shook her head and closed the door gently.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, walking over and sitting beside him on the stairs. He smiled and played the song softly.

“I was thinking about our trip to the duck park a few days ago and then I saw the guitar sitting there and well…” He shrugged and looked down at the guitar, strumming a few chords and then looking at her.

“I don’t know if you’ve really thought this through, if I’m being completely honest with you,” she said and he grinned, knowing exactly what she meant and knowing she knew that he knew.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said however, giving her a confused look and she narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m simply learning to play a song for our daughter, one about ducks who get lost but eventually find their way back home, right where they are supposed to be.”

“Jesus,” she growled and he moved the guitar just before she lunged at him, her lips crashing into his as he caught her around the waist, her knees hitting the porch as she straddled him. He laughed as he pulled back and shook his head.

“So, are you trying to tell me that if I play the guitar for Faith, in a completely innocent way, this will happen?” He smiled, holding her tightly as she breathed deeply and sat back on his legs.

“Well… not directly in front of her, but just know that as soon as she is down for a nap, or in bed for the night, I will be coming for you.”

“So many responses I could make,” he murmured and she laughed, leaning closer to kiss him, her fingernails scratching lightly along his neck.

She pulled back and he smiled as she kissed him gently once more, causing him to moan softly.

“Do you know the song well enough?”

“Not quite. I’d like to practice it a bit more, get it perfect before I play it for her tomorrow.”

“She’s seven months old, Mulder. She won’t know if it’s the best song ever or if you completely mess it up.” She smiled and he nodded with a shrug.

“But I’ll know,” he said and she exhaled a deep breath with a nod.

“Fine…”

Moving from his lap, she picked up the guitar. Handing it to him, she moved across the step, putting some needed space between them.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked with a smirk as he began to play the song.

“I’m going to do my very best,” she said, closing her eyes and folding her hands in her lap. He laughed and nodded as he licked his lips.

“Five little ducks went out one day,” he sang quietly, watching the strings as he played. “Over the hills and far away. Mother duck said “Quack, quack, quack!””

“Nope. I tried,” she said and he looked at her, her eyes flashing fire. “Stop. Put the guitar down. It sounds perfect. We need to get inside. Now.” She stood up, took the guitar from him, and walked into the house. “Now, Mulder.” He grinned and stood up, taking off his shirt as he walked across the porch.

He opened the screen door and stepped inside of the house, smiling at the sight of her already half naked, and shaking her head at him. He closed the door and locked it, walking toward her as she unbuttoned her pants.

“I’m sorry you aren’t able to practice the song, but…”

“I knew it well enough when I read the notes. I didn’t really need to practice it.” She stared at him, her pants halfway down her legs. He winked and she shook her head.

Stumbling a little as she pulled off her pants, he caught her and they landed heavily onto the couch, with her in his lap.

“You’re a clever man,” she whispered.

“Oh, of that Miss Scully, I am very much aware,” he said with a grin, as she once more shook her head, before kissing him thoroughly.

_____________________

The song Mulder learned to play is called “I Wanna Be There” by Blessed Union of Souls.

And of course he sings “Teach Your Children” by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young... which Scully seems to be quite happy to hear as she waits on hold in Rm9...

I wonder why she likes it so much... 😏

[yuri-cocaine]

prompt 8: clamor

In which X’arhll and Yun go steal a body from the Fractal Continuum.

A stack of five-thousand-year-old trash cans crash to the ground.

X’arhll freezes, expecting alarums to start blaring, but whatever security this place had is long gone. She wiggles out of the grate and drops to the ground.

“Oi, Yun!” says X’arhll. “Wait up!”

Yun, the client, examines the locked door at the end of the vestibule. She tries the handles, then gives up and makes a weird motion with her hands. A bolt of lightning strikes it so hard the whole room shakes, and she kicks it open.

X’arhll marvels. “Holy hells, look at all this stuff!”

From the outside, the building X’arhll flew through an atmospheric riot of aetherochemical pollution to get to is a ominous spiky ball with no windows. Now, the two of them stand under a glowing dome of Allagan wonders. A cacophony of magitek whirring and beeping makes X’arhll’s ears ring, and above it all there’s an unmistakable sound of something howling. A network of neon circuitry thread through the walls, the raised platforms, the myriad locked doors. It’s a treasure trove of ancient tech. X’arhll almost salivates at the thought of how much she’d make if she claims the facility as her own and sells everything.

“Is this the first time you’ve broken into here, or did you come here before?” asks X’arhll.

Yun huffs. “How brutish. I do not ‘break in.’ I come and go as I please.”

“Oh. Then uh, what do you need me here for again--oh gods!”

Something enormous hits the window next to them, cracking the glass. X’arhll yelps and quickly raises her shield as a monstrous buffalo thing barrels through the window, roaring and brandishing a giant pipe as a makeshift club.

“Yun, watch out!”

Yun barely glances at the horrible terrible cow monster, and she casually steps aside as it swings the pipe down. X’arhll charges it with a yell, sword at the ready, but Yun grabs the pair of chakrams from her hips and in a flash of steel too quick for X’arhll to follow, she neatly slashes the monster’s throat open. X’arhll barely avoids having it fall on top of her. She has second thoughts about looking for treasure here.

Yun stops at another locked door, but this one has a small monitor in front of it. She nods to X’arhll.

“Well? Hack it.”

“Wait, wait,” says X’arhll. “You mean you paid me 200k to...hack some ancient computer? How do you even know I can hack anything?”

“So you cannot?”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean, yeah, I can probably try. The imperials reverse engineered everything from Allag shite, so I can have a go at it.”

It rankles X’arhll that Yun somehow knows she can work her way around magitek, but she inspects the monitor anyway. A prompt asking for a password pops up. X’arhll accesses the administrative controls, punches in a few lines of code, and sets a new password for the door.

“B-I-G C-O-W,” X’arhll says aloud as she types.

The door opens, and a dozen lime green jelly blobs gurgle and crawl towards them. X’arhll slashes madly, blocking the goop with her shield, while Yun backflips like a crazy opo-opo and unleashes a barrage of throwing knives with pinpoint accuracy. An overgrown lizard claws its way down the wall and unhinges its jaws to let out a blood curdling shriek. X’arhll screams back, and cuts its head off.

Around a corner, a flock of messed up Ixal-looking bird creatures screech and tear at them. Down a hallway, a swarm of bug automatons chitter and scrape and slash at them. When X’arhll hurls the last murderous bug thing off of her, it smashes through a tube, and a giant snake slithers out. Like everything else in this wretched place, the snake screams loud enough to shatter glass before spitting venom everywhere.

After three more hallways of nightmarish monsters, X’arhll decides that even two hundred thousand gil isn’t worth this. She opens her mouth to complain loudly when Yun says “Aha!” and opens a side door.

“Just as I remembered,” Yun murmurs.

“What’d you say?” X’arhll groans. “Actually, no. I don’t want to know. I hope to the gods you’ve found whatever you’re looking for, because I’m half a second away from abandoning you here and running away.”

The little room looks like a storage closet. It’s full of mannequins, most of them missing limbs or damaged. Somehow, after a whole building of warped creatures, this little room full of stark white mannequin bodies is the most unsettling thing X’arhll has seen so far.

She follows Yun in, and nearly trips. A dismembered hand wraps its fingers around her ankle.

“Will you stop making such a racket?” says Yun as X’arhll bounces around trying to kick the hand off.

Yun hauls an intact mannequin out from under a pile of bodies. Twitching limbs spill out over the floor.

“Let us return to Mist,” says Yun.

“Is it too late to ask for a pay increase?” X’arhll asks sadly.

“Much too late. Also, I have my hands full, so you have to do all the fighting back to the airship.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

[laylacooke]

Let’s Get Saucy || Morelia & Layla

timing: the last week of the Mime POTW parties: @morelias & @laylacooke (ft. Layla’s Mime & Celine Dion) summary: a wolf following a fae following a mime leads to an icky situation. warnings: a mime, the sauce, and some hallucinations

There were several things Morelia had still trouble with. The first one was her telephone. The whole concept of having a mobile, what was it called? cellphone? Was extremely weird for her, and despite having the latest iPhone (according to the salesman, they’re easier to use), she still found herself not using it at all. The second one was airplanes. Really, they were just glorified metallic flying coffins. And the third one was, of course, the internet. It’d taken her approximately a whole year to learn what was google, then another one to learn how to use it. But eventually, she had managed to blend in with the modern crowd, finding her safe haven in what many would call trolling. It wasn’t personal, really. She just enjoyed doing it. Bullying Layla had been fun for a while, but quickly became boring when she started getting few to none responses. So, the moment her eyes spotted a not familiar, but definitely recognizable silhouette striding inside the woods when she was doing her evening jog, Morelia just had to follow. Terrorizing her a little in real life had to be as fun as it was online, right? Especially when the other had no idea she was following her.

Now that Layla wasn’t looking over her shoulder everywhere, she turned, she found time to be a rambunctious teen going on and exploring things she probably didn’t need to explore, and the woods just happened to be one of her favorite places. She could get out of town and just think. Take in nature and not have to worry about who she encountered. However, today wasn’t exactly what she had expected it to be. Instead, she had seen a familiar face so hellbent on following someone, that it made her curious. So, instead of making herself known, she worked on quietly slipping through the woods unnoticed while she followed Morelia. She would eventually pop out and scare her, or at the least, just ask her what she was doing, but for now, she quietly trailed along interested in what the woman found to be so fascinating off the beaten path.

Following the girl had proven to be a little more difficult than Morelia had expected. There was no reason to go that deep into the woods, at least not a reasonable one. There was something off about her, all she knew about her were things she’d learned behind a screen, but the way she walked, how it always seemed like she was disappearing behind a tree… it was shady, to say the least. Despite her high heels, the fae gracefully made her way through branches, leaves and dirt, Layla suddenly disappearing from her sight for a moment, confusion washing over her. Where had she gone to? A small clearing popped in her sight, a weird pond in the middle of it. Was that … Ooze? Oil? Her face scrunched in disgust, as she looked around, searching for the redhead as she surely hadn’t gotten far.

Layla continued to follow Morelia, confusion and curiosity permanently etched on her features. When they had finally come to a clearing, the young wolf stopped. Debating if she wanted to reveal herself, she finally decided to, “What are you doing? And why are you wearing heels in the middle of the damn woods?” She came forward to confront Morelia, but the goo in the middle of the clearing had caught her attention, “And what the fuck is that?” She slowly moved closer to it to inspect. Was Morelia in some kind of cult? Had Layla made the wrong decision in revealing herself? And why did the black pit of yuck smell so good? Questions she all wanted answers to.

The voice made Morelia quickly turn on her heels, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Wasn’t she on the other side of the clearing? Her right hand pointed to the opposite direction from where the red-haired woman came from, her mouth forming a perfectly rounded o. “I was following you.” It didn’t make sense for there to be two Laylas, but she was sure it had been her who she was chasing. “Do you happen to have a twin sister I wasn’t aware of? Does she lack sense of humor like you do?” Ignoring the criticism towards her fashion sense, despite the girl desperately needing to take advice from her, Morelia closed the space between them to get closer to the pit, crouching to get a better look. It didn’t look like anything she’d seen in her life. “How the hell should I know?”

A twin? Was this woman on something? And why did she look so surprised? “Am I really much prettier than you thought, because that perfect O you just formed with your mouth two seconds ago seems to say so.” She grinned. Layla was a lot nicer in person. Sass just wasn’t her thing when there was the chance someone could easily kick her ass. “And I’m the last person on this planet to have a twin.” Focus back on the black goo, Layla slowly leaned over further, “It smells like freshly baked bread.” Sticking her finger down in it, she quickly pulled it back up to inspect it closer, before shoving her finger towards Morelia, “Here. Try it and tell me what it tastes like.”

Despite the urge to snap back, Layla had been partially right. It was creepy, borderline stalkery, but Morelia had visited her profile multiple times, mostly to add a face to the username. “Maybe you are.” She quietly admitted, her brows furrowing and eyes closing for a moment as she inhaled deeply, in case she recognized the smell from somewhere, but the only image forming her head being the Strawberry Tarts from Yours, Mime & Ours. “What?! No-- Sto-- ” She couldn’t finish her sentence, as her attempts to move away from Layla’s finger had made her lose her balance. In the panic, the fae didn’t think of anything better but to try to hold onto the girl, only to make them both fall into the pit.

Before Layla could lower her hand and back away, she watched Morelia grab onto her. It was like slow motion as they both toppled over into the pit of goo. Head submerged, she quickly forced herself back up to the surface of the thick sludge gasping for air and spitting out goop. She was covered. Her red hair was now stained a dingy color and she struggled to get to the banked area. But her foe? Where did she go? Layla searched around for her frantically. However, when she tried to call out to her nothing came out of her mouth. Panic setting in, she tried to scream again, but nothing. It was like everything she wanted to yell was stuck in her throat but couldn’t break free.

There were few things that scared Morelia. The sticky, dense ooze surrounding that didn’t let her breath was definitely one of them. Her heartbeat accelerated as her hands desperately tried to find anything to hold onto, panic engulfing her for the few seconds that took her to surface, her head barely out of the pit while the rest of her body was still under. Morelia was panting and coughing out whatever it was they had fallen into, which to her surprise it was extremely delicious, one hand wiping her face to clean the goo. What the fuck, Layla. She mouthed in anger, her eyes suddenly opening wide. What? She tried again, and again, and again, nothing but air leaving her mouth.

Layla was still splashing around trying to find her nemesis. When she noticed Morelia resurface, she found relief, but now she had to find her way out. Doggy paddling to the edge of the ooze’s surface, she threw her arms up and latched onto a clump of grass with each hand. It took all she could muster, but Layla managed to pull herself up and out. Looking back, she realized Morelia was still struggling and offered her a hand to pull her out of the goop the rest of the way.

Reluctantly, Morelia accepted Layla's help to leave the pit of despair. She could swear she had felt a hand brushing her feet, but, again, as far as she knew, ingesting the goop could have hallucinating effects. Maybe she was talking but was too high to notice. After all, how could one just lose their voice from one second to another? Despite the other’s help, Morelia struggled to crawl out of the hole, but once she did, she flopped on her back, ooze everywhere as she breathed heavily, yet silently.

With Morelia free, Layla was able to crawl away from the hellish hole of yuck that they had just survived. Laying on her stomach and her face resting on her forearm, she tried to process everything that was going on, but couldn’t. Instead, all she could hear was the sound of Celine Dion singing “My Heart Will Go On” loudly in her ears and when she tried to speak again, nothing. Layla had only ever gotten high a handful of times in her young life, and it had been in the comfort of her girlfriend’s arms. This was different though. This was more extreme, and as she looked to the world around her, any color that she was able to see after becoming a wolf, was now gone. It was like she was living inside an episode of I Love Lucy, but everything was extremely messed up. And when she turned to look at Morelia, her eyes grew wide at what she was seeing.

A whole different kind of panic started to settle on Morelia. Whatever that thing was -because it clearly wasn’t just a weird, polluted pond-, not only had taken her speech, but also her ability to distinguish color, since a grey palette was now covering everything. She was still coughing, the unwanted goop although delicious had travelled down her throat leaving a stingy sensation. Eventually she sat, cleaning the substance from her clothing as much as she could and failing miserably, only now noticing that she’d lost one of her heels in the pit. Awesome. This was clearly not her week fashion-wise, and now not only she’d had to (potentially) say bye bye to a favorite shirt, but also to a pair of precious shoes. She turned around, pretending to yell at Layla for her stupidity, but once again only air came out, and no matter how much she tried to scream, not even a whimper left her lips. Morelia brought a hand to her throat, and what felt like the first time in her life, she felt like she was about to cry. She moved one hand to her ear, and then pointed at Layla, as in asking can you hear me? 

Layla’s eyes remained focused on Morelia. Why did it look like she had four eyes and two heads wearing berets? What had she consumed? Blinking a few times and shaking her head, she managed to shake off the image to see Morelia looking normal, aside from being in black, white, and gray. What the fuck? All she could hear was “My Heart Will Go On” playing loudly in her ears, and it made her want to howl in pain. Releasing what she thought was a howl, her mouth made an O shape and she held her head up to the sky, but nothing. Nothing guttural at all. Just silence aside from Celine. Looking to Morelia, she leaned in and watched her once more. Barely understanding her, she shook her head ‘no’.

A different kind of feeling started bubbling in Morelia as she stared at Layla. What was she doing? But most importantly, where did all the trees from the forest go and why were they all black hands and fingers? She could feel a stomachache started to form inside of her, the back of her neck suddenly colder than she remembered. Never in her life she had tried drugs - they always felt like an unnecessary way to doom oneself, numbing her senses and, apparently, making everything seem like a weird adult cartoon from the 80’s. She’d make sure to ask Felix about this later on. Morelia’s eyes blinked repeatedly trying to get rid of the shadowy fingers that replaced the branches, but they continued moving, mocking her and building even more frustration, and the fae felt like screaming again.

The young werewolf just wanted this all to end. Not being able to speak or see what limited colors wolves were privileged to or even howl was just downright annoying. And the next time she watched Titanic, she knew she’d be watching one part on mute. What was this town? Never, in her short life, had she come across something so vile, but smelled so good, yet left her in such a state, that she just wanted to go home and curl up under a blanket. Oh gosh...What would Ari or Celeste think? Well, even if they had said something to her, it’s not like she could have heard them, what with NEAR, FAR, WHEREVER YOU ARE! coming to a crescendo in her head, while the song repeated itself. But she did want to be out of these clothes and into a tub filled with clean, hot water. It’s why, when she got up, despite feeling woozy, Layla walked over to Morelia to grab her so they could at least get away from whatever the hell that stuff bubbling from the ground was.

Being yanked off the floor made her stomach ache even worse, the urge to barf settling inside of her and Morelia had to find all her strength to keep everything in, taking in deep breaths through her nose while her eyes were locked on the floor, knowing that watching the dark hands would only sicken her further. The difference of height due to the missing shoe made her stumble as she walked alongside Layla, and the woman found herself grabbing her arm back in an attempt to keep her from balancing, and maybe because touching the girl  gave her a sense of stability in this weird dream-like situation. She wasn’t completely sure where they were going, but she still appreciated the initiative to at least drag them far enough from the smell. After a minute or so of wandering in the woods, Morelia finally looked up from the dirt and leaves, finding that the trees were back, although still colorless. So, it was the smell that had created the weird illusions. A shaky breath escaped her lips before she looked over at the girl, applying some pressure to her grasp to get her attention. Thanks, she mouthed.

Layla had just wanted to get out of the woods. She wanted to be so far away from it all. She knew whatever the repercussions were would probably last a little while. How was she going to explain this to the people she was living with? Especially with no voice. Feeling Morelia put pressure on her arm, Layla looked over just in time to see the word thanks being mouthed. No problem was her return, but it was all silence. In fact, she had noticed Celine Dion had started to fade out, and she was starting to hear the birds and the rest of nature again. That had brought her some peace of mind. Maybe the effects of whatever this stuff would be gone sooner rather than later, and if they were both lucky, maybe by the time they both got home. I’m sorry for being so mean to you online. She didn’t know if More could read her lips, but she truly was sorry for how snippy she had been.

At some point, Morelia’s grasp on Layla’s arm had softened and shifted so she was now holding her hand, and for a second she thought how funny it would be to walk into someone; the sight of the two of them still covered in goop, aimlessly walking through the woods must surely been a scary one. She could feel the tug of her lips to form a smile, but it only lasted a second, a new bitter feeling settling in her stomach. Anyone else would’ve left her to drown in the pit, it’s what happens when you’re a bitch to ninety percent of the world population; so, in a way, she owed her. Not that she quite minded, as returning a favor could be easily done with some word trickery. She tried to read her lips, only understanding the words sorry and online, but that being enough to know what she meant. Awkwardly, Morelia shook her head slightly, mouthing back: Me too. At least they were nearing the road to end this weird encounter, the mystery of the second Layla unsolved.

Layla was slightly surprised when she felt Morelia take her hand. It had meant that whatever beef they had online no longer mattered. They were in a good spot. Of course, falling in a pit of goo and almost drowning would do that to a person. But seeing me too come from More’s lips brought a soft smile to her face. There was relief in knowing they had found mutual ground. And it was something Layla wouldn’t forget anytime soon. She was just relieved knowing that they were safe and well on their way to hot showers and hopefully never speaking of this horror again. Let me rephrase that. Thinking of this horror again, because Layla wanted her voice back, and she’d hoped it would come back sooner rather than later. But she knew one person she would be a little kinder to the next time they crossed paths, whether that be online or in person.

[gone-dw-abt-it]

*ahem* um... For the ask thing, could iiiii get "did you ever love me?" With Nightmare and Dream?

Ah- didn’t plan on getting any, hope you don’t mind me using my own versions!

Might be poorly written since I pumped it out and don’t read through most the time,,, sorry it’s so short,,, don’t wanna spoil too much before the refs and info is out!!

~~~

“Did you ever love me?”

The question hung in the air like humidity, making everything feel worse than it was. Bricky was smiling as he waited for his brother to answer- not Dilly, not Dandy, Dream, his brother. Sipping on his tea at their timed brotherly bonding tea dates...

“I-O-of course I did!! I still do!! Wh-why wouldn’t I??” His hands shook in their gloves, almost violently while his yellow eyelights were fixed on the other, drenched with that colorful oily black goop and those off warm colored clothes.

“Then, why are you shaking again? Am I truly that horrifying for what was your brother once?... before having those apples?” a purplish blue eyelight watched the his hands start to fiddle with his gloves and sleeves. “N-no... y-yes?? B-bricky... you aren’t him... anymore... a-and as much as I want to stay in the mindscape this is the only time they’ll let me be in control a-and I don’t know how to tell you this without making sure they don’t know but you’re what they fear so please don’t think I don’t-“ Dream was cut off by Bricky standing up, seeming absolutely exhausted as he gave his brother a smile.

“Of course dearest brother- I just needed to make sure you did and they didn’t...”

~~~

[continue?]

[yes]

[no]