#please share this if not familiar! wanting to reach any fans who might not find it in the tags

[sleepyjuniper]

The Camp Cretaceous/Chaos Theory discord is live!

This is a server for fans of the new DreamWorks show, Jurassic World: Chaos Theory, and it's predecessor, Camp Cretaceous! In it, you can find fans with similar interests, share content you made or that you love, and of course discuss the series! What are you waiting for?

[kiesbrainjuice]

I'm not sure if you're still accepting request but I want to try to send one. I already tried to send this request to some writers here who's accepting request but sadly they didn't noticed.

This idea might be cliche story for Nishinoya but I want to see how you do it with your style of writing.

3rd year Nishinoya x kouhai female reader oneshot. The reader is quite smitten for Nishinoya that leads to love confession before her senpai graduates from highschool. Though the reader is smitten for Noya, she's an accepting person, whether her senpai reciprocates her feelings or not. Something like that. It's up to you if you're going to sweet, bittersweet, or angst ending route.

Thank you and Have a nice day~♡♡

— EYES WITHOUT A FACE ! nishinoya yuu

syn : a shy first year girl confesses her crush to the 3rd year Nishinoya, leading to dates and the start of their relationship.

wc : 5.3k

tw : none ! oneshot

a/n : sure thing ! I think it’s an amazing plot ! plus I was searching for a good plot for yuu fictions 😭 ! so yeah I did one, I hope you’ll like it !!

The early morning sun filtered through the tall windows of Karasuno High School, casting a warm, golden glow across the empty corridors. As a second-year student, you had grown accustomed to the serene tranquility that enveloped the school before the morning rush. Today, however, felt different. Your heart was fluttering in your chest, a mix of excitement and anxiety that had become a familiar companion over the past few months. The reason for this upheaval in your otherwise calm life was none other than Nishinoya Yuu, the energetic and charismatic libero of the boys' volleyball team.

Your first encounter with Nishinoya had been nothing short of memorable. It was during the first week of the new school year, and you were still finding your way around the labyrinthine halls of Karasuno High. Lost and frustrated, you had been wandering aimlessly when you heard a cheerful voice call out to you.

"Hey, you look a bit lost! Need some help?"

Turning around, you saw him for the first time. Nishinoya Yuu stood there, a bright smile on his face, his spiky hair and confident demeanor instantly catching your attention. You had read about the infamous "Guardian Deity" of Karasuno in the school newsletter, but seeing him in person was an entirely different experience. He radiated an infectious energy that immediately put you at ease.

Blushing slightly, you nodded. "Y-Yes, please. I'm trying to find the science lab."

Nishinoya's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "No problem! Follow me, I'll show you the way."

As you walked together, he chatted animatedly about the school, his love for volleyball, and the upcoming matches. You found yourself captivated by his passion and the genuine kindness in his eyes. By the time you reached the science lab, you realized you had barely said a word, too engrossed in listening to him.

"Here we are," he announced with a flourish. "If you ever need help again, just look for me. I'm Nishinoya Yuu, by the way."

Smiling shyly, you introduced yourself. "Thank you, Nishinoya-senpai. I'm [Y/N]."

From that moment on, your days at Karasuno High were irrevocably changed. You found yourself looking forward to any opportunity to catch a glimpse of him, whether it was during lunch breaks, in the corridors, or at the volleyball matches you began attending religiously. Watching him play was mesmerizing; his agility, his unwavering determination, and the way he seemed to defy gravity as he leaped to make impossible saves left you in awe.

Your friends quickly noticed your growing infatuation and teased you about it endlessly. "You should just talk to him," they urged, but the thought of approaching Nishinoya outside of those chance encounters left you paralyzed with nerves. What if he didn't remember you? What if he thought you were just another fan?

Despite your reservations, you couldn't help but cherish the small moments that you shared. One afternoon, you were sitting in the courtyard, engrossed in a book, when a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Hey, [Y/N], what are you reading?"

Startled, you looked up to see Nishinoya standing in front of you, his usual bright smile in place. You felt your heart skip a beat as you struggled to find your voice.

"O-Oh, um, it's just a novel for…class," you stammered, holding up the book for him to see.

Nishinoya's eyes lit up with interest. "Cool! I like reading sports magazines and manga too. What's it about?"

As you explained the plot, you couldn't help but notice how attentive he was, his eyes never leaving yours. The conversation flowed more easily than you had anticipated, and for a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

"Well, I should get going," Nishinoya said eventually, glancing at his watch. "Practice starts soon. It was nice talking to you, [Y/N]. See you around!"

You watched him walk away, your heart racing. Every interaction, no matter how brief, left you feeling like you were floating on air. You replayed those moments in your mind over and over again, finding solace in the fact that he seemed to remember you.

Your shyness around Nishinoya was both a blessing and a curse. It meant that every glance, every smile he sent your way felt like a precious gift, but it also meant that you struggled to express your feelings openly. You found yourself writing letters you never intended to send, pouring your heart out on paper in a way you could never do in person.

One particularly vivid memory stood out among the rest. It was during a particularly intense volleyball match against Aoba Johsai. You were in the stands, your eyes glued to the court as Nishinoya and his teammates fought valiantly. The atmosphere was electric, the tension palpable as the score remained neck and neck.

In a moment of sheer brilliance, Nishinoya made an incredible save, diving across the court and sending the ball back into play. The crowd erupted in cheers, and you found yourself on your feet, clapping and shouting his name.

After the match, you lingered near the gym, hoping for a chance to congratulate him. When he finally emerged, sweaty and exhausted but beaming with pride, you gathered all your courage and approached him.

"Nishinoya-senpai, that was amazing! You were incredible out there."

He grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Thanks, [Y/N]! I'm glad you enjoyed the match. It means a lot to have your support."

His words sent a thrill through you, and you felt your cheeks heat up. "Of course! I'll always cheer for you and the team."

From then on, your admiration for Nishinoya only grew. You admired his dedication, his unwavering spirit, and the way he always seemed to find joy in everything he did. Every day, you looked forward to the moments when your paths would cross, even if it was just a fleeting glance or a quick exchange of words.

As the school year progressed, you found yourself becoming more involved in school activities, partly as a way to be closer to him. You joined the student council, started helping out with the volleyball club's events, and even took up photography, hoping to capture the essence of the team's dynamic and Nishinoya's incredible plays.

Despite your efforts, your shyness remained a constant hurdle. There were times when you caught Nishinoya looking at you, a curious expression on his face, but you always looked away, too afraid to meet his gaze. Your friends continued to encourage you, insisting that you should take the plunge and tell him how you felt, but you couldn't shake the fear of rejection.

In the quiet moments, when you were alone with your thoughts, you often wondered what it would be like to confess your feelings. You imagined the scenarios, rehearsed the words in your mind, but when faced with the reality of it, your courage always seemed to falter.

The gym was bustling with activity as the boys' volleyball team practiced their drills, the sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor and the rhythmic thud of the volleyballs reverberating in the large space. You had come to the gym after your student council meeting, hoping to catch a glimpse of Nishinoya in action. He was, as always, a whirlwind of energy and skill, diving and leaping with an intensity that never failed to impress you.

As you stood at the edge of the gym, watching the team, you noticed a small group entering the building. It took a moment for you to recognize them, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat. Kiyoko Shimizu, no longer the team manager but still as poised and beautiful as ever, walked in with Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi, two former team members who had also graduated. They were here to visit, their presence immediately causing a stir among the current team members.

Your eyes were drawn to Nishinoya and his best friend, Tanaka Ryu. The moment they spotted Kiyoko, their faces lit up with unmistakable excitement. They exchanged a quick, knowing glance before sprinting across the gym, their voices rising in a chorus of enthusiastic shouts.

"Kiyoko-san! Kiyoko-san!" Nishinoya and Tanaka yelled in unison, their exuberance echoing through the gym. They skidded to a halt in front of her, their expressions a mixture of awe and adoration. With the two of them practically bouncing on their heels, their eyes shining with a fervent admiration that was almost comical in its intensity.

Kiyoko smiled warmly at them, clearly accustomed to their antics. "Hello, Nishinoya, Tanaka. It's good to see you both."

Seeing them together like that, the way Nishinoya's face brightened at her presence, was like a punch to the gut. You had known he admired her, but witnessing it firsthand brought a fresh wave of hurt. The way he looked at her, the sheer joy and admiration in his eyes, made you feel invisible. It was a stark reminder that no matter how much you liked him, his heart seemed to belong to someone else.

You watched as Nishinoya and Tanaka vied for Kiyoko's attention, each trying to outdo the other with their antics. They were like two eager puppies, desperate for a pat on the head from their beloved owner. The rest of the team watched with amused smiles, clearly used to this display.

"Alright, alright, settle down, you two," Daichi said, chuckling as he placed a hand on Tanaka's shoulder. "We're here to watch the practice, not disrupt it."

Nishinoya nodded vigorously, his enthusiasm undiminished. "Right! We'll show you how much we've improved, Kiyoko-san!"

The practice resumed, but your heart wasn't in it anymore. You felt a hollow ache in your chest as you watched Nishinoya play with renewed vigor, clearly wanting to impress Kiyoko. The way he moved, the intensity in his eyes, all of it was directed towards her, and it hurt more than you had expected.

You tried to focus on other things, on the other players, but your eyes kept drifting back to Nishinoya. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and sadness, knowing that his heart was set on someone who was out of reach. The realization made you question your own feelings, wondering if you would ever be able to compete with the pedestal he had placed Kiyoko on.

As practice came to an end, you decided to leave quietly, slipping out of the gym before anyone could notice. The cool evening air hit your face as you stepped outside, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. It was painful to see Nishinoya so infatuated with someone else, but you couldn't blame him. Kiyoko was everything you admired—beautiful, strong, and kind. It was no wonder he looked up to her.

Walking home, you resolved to continue supporting Nishinoya from afar, even if it meant dealing with the heartache. You couldn't change his feelings, but you could be there for him, cheering him on and finding joy in his successes.

—-

The morning began with a sense of determination you hadn't felt in a long time. Today was the day you would finally confess to Nishinoya Yuu. Your friends had spent the entire previous evening pumping you up, convincing you that this was your moment. Their encouragement echoed in your mind as you stood in front of the mirror, psyching yourself up.

"You got this, [Y/N]. Just be confident," you whispered to your reflection before heading out the door.

At school, your friends gathered around you, their eyes full of excitement and anticipation. "Today's the day, right?" one of them asked, grinning.

You nodded, your heart already pounding in your chest. "Yeah, today's the day."

The first opportunity came during the morning break. You spotted Nishinoya near the vending machines, chatting with Tanaka. Summoning all your courage, you approached him, your hands trembling slightly.

"Nishinoya-senpai," you began, but before you could say anything else, a group of first-year students crowded around the vending machines, pushing you aside.

"Sorry!" one of them said, not noticing your disappointment.

Nishinoya smiled at you apologetically. "Catch you later, [Y/N]!" he called as he was swept away by the crowd.

You sighed, feeling a pang of frustration. "Almost," you muttered to yourself.

The next chance came at lunchtime. You had spotted him sitting under a tree in the courtyard, eating his lunch alone. This was perfect. Taking a deep breath, you walked over, your heart racing.

"Hey, Nishinoya-senpai," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

He looked up, surprised but pleased to see you. "Oh, hey, [Y/N]! What's up?"

"I was wondering if we could talk," you started, but before you could continue, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch break. Nishinoya jumped to his feet, grabbing his things.

"Sorry, gotta get to class! Talk later?" he said, already heading towards the building.

You watched him go, feeling deflated. "Later," you echoed weakly.

As the day wore on, you found yourself growing more anxious and frustrated. Every time you tried to approach him, something got in the way. During the afternoon break, you saw him near the library, but just as you were about to call out to him, the loudspeaker crackled to life, announcing an urgent student council meeting. By the time you got out of the meeting, he was gone.

By the end of the day, you were exhausted and disheartened. You had tried so many times and failed each time. As you walked home, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink by the setting sun, you couldn't help but feel like giving up. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

Passing by the gymnasium, you heard the familiar sound of a volleyball hitting the floor. Curiosity got the better of you, and you peeked inside. There, alone in the dimly lit gym, was Nishinoya. He was practicing his receives, his movements sharp and focused.

Something inside you stirred. This was your moment. No interruptions, no crowds—just you and him. Taking a deep breath, you walked into the gym, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly.

"Nishinoya-senpai," you called, your voice wavering slightly.

He looked up, surprised to see you. "Oh, hey, [Y/N]! What are you doing here?"

You walked closer, your heart pounding. "I... I wanted to talk to you."

"Sure, what's up?" he asked, wiping sweat from his brow and giving you his undivided attention.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Nishinoya-senpai, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time."

He tilted his head, curiosity and a hint of concern in his eyes. "What is it?"

Your hands were trembling, but you pressed on. "I've admired you for a while now. I love your passion, your energy, and how you always give your all in everything you do. You inspire me, and... I really like you. I was wondering if... if you would like to go on a date with me."

The silence that followed felt like an eternity. Nishinoya's eyes widened, and for a moment, you feared the worst. But then, a slow smile spread across his face.

"Wow, [Y/N], I didn't know you felt that way," he said, his voice gentle. "I’m really flattered. You’re always so kind and supportive. I’d love to go on a date with you."

Relief and joy surged through you, and you couldn't help but smile back. "Really? You mean it?"

He nodded, his grin widening. "Yeah, really. How about this weekend? We can go to that new café in town."

"That sounds perfect," you said, feeling a lightness in your chest you hadn't felt all day.

Nishinoya laughed, a sound full of warmth and sincerity. "Great! It's a date, then."

As you left the gymnasium together, the sky darkening into twilight, you felt a sense of accomplishment and happiness that made all the failed attempts worth it. Nishinoya had agreed to go on a date with you, and that was more than you could have hoped for.

—

The weekend couldn't come fast enough. The anticipation of your first date with Nishinoya kept you on edge, your mind racing with excitement and nerves. When Saturday morning finally arrived, you spent extra time getting ready, carefully choosing an outfit that was both casual and a little bit special. You wanted to look your best for him.

The café Nishinoya had suggested was a quaint, cozy place on the edge of town, known for its warm ambiance and delicious pastries. You arrived a little early, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anxiety. As you waited outside, you couldn't help but fidget, checking your reflection in the café's window every few minutes.

"Hey, [Y/N]!" Nishinoya's voice called out, breaking through your thoughts.

You turned to see him jogging towards you, his face lit up with a cheerful smile. He looked effortlessly cool in his casual clothes, his hair still slightly tousled from his usual style. The sight of him made your heart skip a beat.

"Hi, Nishinoya-senpai," you greeted, smiling nervously.

"Call me Yuu," he said with a grin. "We're on a date, after all."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but you nodded. "Okay, Yuu."

He opened the door for you, and you both stepped inside the café. The smell of fresh coffee and baked goods enveloped you, instantly making you feel at ease. You found a cozy corner table and settled in, the soft hum of conversation around you creating a comfortable background noise.

"So, what do you want to try?" Yuu asked, scanning the menu.

"I heard their pastries are really good," you suggested. "Maybe we could share a few?"

"Sounds like a plan!" he agreed. "I'll get us some drinks. How about a cappuccino for you?"

"That would be great, thanks," you said, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

As Yuu went to place the order, you couldn't help but watch him, admiring the way he moved with such confidence and ease. It was hard to believe that you were actually on a date with him, the boy you had admired from afar for so long.

When he returned, he carried a tray with two steaming cups of cappuccino and an assortment of pastries. "Here we go," he said, setting the tray down. "Hope you're hungry!"

The pastries were as delicious as you had heard, and the cappuccinos were the perfect complement. As you ate and sipped your drinks, the conversation flowed easily. Yuu was full of stories about his adventures with the volleyball team, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time.

"And then," Yuu said, chuckling, "Tanaka tripped over his own feet and fell face-first into the sand. We were supposed to be practicing our dives, but it turned into a comedy show."

You laughed, imagining the scene. "Sounds like you guys have a lot of fun."

"Yeah, we do," he agreed, his eyes twinkling. "But it's also hard work. We push each other to be better."

The hours seemed to fly by, and before you knew it, the sun was beginning to set. You both stepped outside the café, the evening air cool and refreshing.

"Thanks for today, Yuu," you said, feeling a warm glow in your chest. "I had a really great time."

"Me too, [Y/N]," he replied, his smile genuine. "Hey, there's a festival next weekend. Would you like to go with me?"

Your heart leapt at the invitation. "I'd love to!"

"Great! It's a date, then," he said, giving you a playful wink. "I'll pick you up at six?"

"Perfect," you agreed, feeling a surge of excitement.

—

The week passed in a blur of anticipation. You couldn't wait for the festival, imagining the fun you would have and the memories you would make. When the day finally arrived, you spent extra time getting ready, choosing a light summer dress that felt perfect for the occasion.

Yuu arrived promptly at six, looking excited and a little nervous. "Ready to go?" he asked, offering his hand.

You took it, feeling a spark of electricity at the contact. "Absolutely."

The festival was a riot of colors and sounds. Lanterns hung from every available surface, their warm light casting a magical glow over the bustling crowd. Stalls lined the streets, offering everything from delicious street food to handcrafted trinkets. The air was filled with the cheerful sounds of laughter, music, and the occasional pop of fireworks.

"This place is amazing," you said, looking around in wonder.

"Yeah, it is," Yuu agreed. "Let's check out the food stalls first. I'm starving."

You wandered through the festival, sampling various treats and enjoying the festive atmosphere. Yuu was full of energy, his enthusiasm contagious as he pointed out different stalls and suggested things to try.

"Have you ever tried takoyaki?" he asked, leading you to a stall that smelled heavenly.

You shook your head. "No, but I've always wanted to."

"You're in for a treat," he said, ordering a plate for you both. "These are the best."

He was right—the takoyaki was delicious, the perfect blend of flavors and textures. As you ate, you found yourself relaxing, the nervousness of earlier fading away in the warm, friendly atmosphere.

"Let's go see the games," Yuu suggested after you finished eating. "I'm pretty good at the ring toss."

You spent the next hour trying out various games, laughing as you both failed spectacularly at some and triumphed at others. Yuu won you a small stuffed animal at the ring toss, presenting it to you with a proud grin.

"For you," he said, his eyes shining with happiness.

"Thank you, Yuu," you said, accepting the gift with a smile.

As the evening wore on, the sky grew darker, and the festival lights shone even brighter. The highlight of the night was the fireworks display, and Yuu led you to a spot on a hill that offered the perfect view.

"Here, this is the best place to watch," he said, sitting down on the grass and patting the spot next to him.

You sat down, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you. As the first fireworks exploded in the sky, painting it with brilliant colors, you couldn't help but feel a sense of magic in the air.

"This is amazing," you said softly, watching the fireworks in awe.

"Yeah," Yuu agreed, his voice just as soft. "It really is."

For a moment, you both sat in comfortable silence, watching the display. Then, Yuu turned to you, his expression serious but warm.

"[Y/N], I had a really great time with you tonight," he said. "I know this might sound sudden, but... would you like to go out with me again? Like…as my girlfriend?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a mix of surprise and joy flooding through you. "I'd love to, Yuu," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

His face lit up with a radiant and full of love smile. "Really? You’re my girlfriend then?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the summer night. "Really, I love you, yuu…"

As the final fireworks burst into the sky, his eyes widen and he leaned close to you, his lips brushing yours as his hand were on your neck, at the last fireworks, he smashed your lips with yours. You couldn't help but feel that this was the beginning of something wonderful...

“I love you too…[Y/N].”

It had been a month since you and Yuu had confessed your feelings under the fireworks. The two of you had enjoyed your moments together, keeping your relationship private, savoring the thrill of stolen glances and secret smiles. However, today felt different. You had decided to visit him during his volleyball practice, a gesture that hinted at your readiness to share your relationship with the world.

As you approached the gym, the familiar sounds of laughter, shouts, and the thud of volleyballs greeted you. You paused at the entrance, taking a deep breath, the scent of sweat and the sight of the team hard at work filling your senses. Your heart pounded with anticipation, and you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness.

There he was—Nishinoya, your Yuu, in the center of it all, his energy contagious as he encouraged his teammates. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, so alive and full of passion. Gathering your courage, you stepped into the gym and walked toward him.

"Yuu!" you called out, your voice cutting through the noise.

He turned, his face lighting up when he saw you. Without a second thought, he jogged over, a wide grin on his face. Before you could say anything, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, pressing a quick but affectionate kiss to your lips. Your cheeks flushed, and your heart raced at the unexpected public display of affection.

The gym fell silent. Every pair of eyes was on the two of you, shock and curiosity etched on their faces. The team had seen you around before, but this was the first time they witnessed such intimacy between you and their libero.

"Whoa, Nishinoya!" Tanaka's voice broke the silence, filled with surprise and amusement. "Did we just see that right?"

Nishinoya kept his arm around your waist, his confidence unwavering. "Yeah, you did," he said, his voice loud and clear. "Everyone, this is [Y/N]. We're dating."

A chorus of reactions followed.

"About time!" Sugawara said with a knowing smile, nudging Daichi. "I had a feeling something was going on."

"Well, I didn't see that coming," Asahi admitted, scratching his head, but his expression was warm and accepting.

Hinata and Kageyama looked at each other, eyes wide. "No way! Nishinoya-senpai has a girlfriend?" Hinata exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

Kageyama nodded slowly, still processing the information. "I guess we should've known. He's always been bold."

Tsukishima adjusted his glasses, a smirk playing on his lips. "This explains why he's been in such a good mood lately."

Yamaguchi elbowed him lightly, grinning. "Come on, Tsukki, let them have their moment."

Tanaka, however, took a more dramatic approach. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as if in pain. "Noya, how could you?" he wailed, his voice filled with mock sorrow. "I thought we were best friends! How could you keep this from me?"

Nishinoya rolled his eyes but laughed, clearly amused by his friend's theatrics. "Relax, Tanaka. It’s not like I was hiding a secret identity or anything."

"Still," Tanaka sniffed dramatically, wiping away imaginary tears, "I expected better. I'm heartbroken, man."

You couldn't help but giggle at the exaggerated display. "I'm sorry, Tanaka," you said, trying to keep a straight face. "We'll make it up to you, I promise."

Tanaka's expression brightened instantly. "You better! I expect to be the first to know about all future developments!"

Nishinoya looked down at you, his eyes shining with happiness. "I wanted everyone to know," he said softly, just for you to hear. "No more hiding."

You nodded, feeling a rush of relief and joy. "I'm glad," you whispered back.

The rest of practice continued with a new energy in the air. The team seemed to feed off the excitement of the reveal, their spirits high and their camaraderie even stronger. You stayed to watch, cheering them on and exchanging smiles with Yuu whenever your eyes met.

After practice ended, the team gathered around you both, eager to know more about your relationship. Nishinoya held your hand proudly, answering their questions with enthusiasm.

"So, how long has this been going on?" Tanaka asked, his curiosity palpable.

"About a month," you replied, glancing at Yuu with a smile. "We wanted to keep it to ourselves for a bit."

Sugawara nodded, his expression understanding. "Makes sense. But we're happy for you guys."

"Thanks, Suga-san," Yuu said, his gratitude genuine. "It means a lot."

As the team dispersed, heading to the locker room to change, Nishinoya pulled you aside, his eyes soft with affection. "Thanks for coming today," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "It made everything feel more real."

"I'm glad I did," you replied, your heart full. "I love you, Yuu."

"I love you too," he said, kissing you again, this time more tenderly.

Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[yournameoneverypage]

When You're Ready

Reader request: Shawn Mendes x (y/n). "Shawn is on tour and invites the reader to the show so he can ask her to be his girlfriend and he sings When You're Ready, but Camila shows up and the reader is convinced that it's for C and not for her."

Word Count: ~3.7

Notes: Mostly fluff with brief moments of angst, and a smut ending.

Warnings: NSFW

~ * ~

(Y/n) stood at baggage claim at LAX, waiting for her blush-colored suitcase to roll by on the carousel. She was going to be in California for almost a week. Why? Well, her best friend was Shawn Mendes and he was currently on tour. He was missing her something fierce, he had said, and he wanted her to come see him.

Shawn had two sold out shows, consecutive nights, at the Staples Center followed by a show in San Francisco three days later, so why not make a week of it? His idea, but the second he mentioned it she was on board. She’d figure it out, find a way to make it work.

Any time she got to spend with him was both treasured and torturous. But she would go through the pain and heartache over and over again if it meant nearly a week with her most favorite person.

See, the thing was, (y/n) had been in love with Shawn for nearly as long as she had known him.

~ * ~

After retrieving her bag, (y/n) went in search of her driver. Shawn had said he or she would be holding a sign with her name on it. Shawn had a few interviews to do that morning, so (y/n) would be taken to his hotel to wait for him to finish, and then they’d have the entire afternoon and evening to spend together.

Aside from the aforementioned interviews, this was a day off for Shawn and he wanted to make the most of it because the Staples Center shows were the following two nights, and there wouldn’t be much down time during the days with soundchecks, meet and greets, and Q&As before showtime. Fortunately they would have more time to spend together between LA and San Francisco.

(Y/n) located her driver, who smiled brightly and introduced himself as John. He took her bag and engaged her in friendly chatter as he led her toward an idling Range Rover.

Who left a vehicle like this idling curbside at the airport?

John opened the rear passenger door for her with a knowing grin. (Y/n) started to climb in before she even noticed him.

“Shawn!” She almost tipped over into his lap reaching across the seat to hug him.

“Surprise, babe!” he chuckled into her ear.

“You’re here!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t collect you myself, but as much as I love my fans, I didn’t want to get stuck here for a half an hour taking selfies.”

“I thought you were in interviews all morning.”

“I was. I was hoping to come with John to pick you up, but I honestly didn’t know how long all the interviews were going to take so I didn’t want you to be disappointed if I said I would be here but then wasn’t.”

He was always so thoughtful; it was one of the many, many things (y/n) loved about him. She linked her hand with his between them, squeezed, and smiled. “I missed you.”

With a grin, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Missed you, too. So much. I’m so happy you’re here,” he breathed.

~ * ~

The day flew by way too quickly.

Once Shawn got (y/n) checked in and settled at the hotel, in a room that adjoined his, they grabbed lunch at one of Shawn’s favorite places.

It was (y/n)’s first ever visit to Los Angeles. Shawn had asked her if there were any specific things that were on her must do/see list, and he’d take care of everything.

They visited the Griffith Observatory, and strolled down the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

(Y/n) thought, and Shawn agreed, that too much attention might be drawn to them if he was spotted along Venice Beach or the Santa Monica Pier, as he had already been approached a few times during their activities earlier in the day. (Y/n) had been understanding and supportive of him spending a few minutes chatting with his fans and taking photos. She actually took a few of the photos herself.

Another day, he promised.

Instead, they spent a good part of the late afternoon and early evening at the Getty Center Museum.

They had dinner in Little Tokyo, followed by drinks at a tiki bar. Only one for (y/n) because she was a lightweight and tiki drinks were known to be quite strong. Shawn stopped after two, as he had a full day the next day and didn’t want to risk waking up with a hangover.

Back at the hotel, freshly showered, in pajamas, and in Shawn’s room, stretched out on his king-sized bed, Shawn and (y/n) ordered something from room service to share.

Even though they had chosen a movie to watch, they were too busy talking and laughing to pay much attention to the television.

~ * ~

Staples Center, Day One, had (y/n) immersed in the thick of things with Shawn, his band, and his crew. She knew only a few of them and was introduced to many more. Her laminated pass was the same as what everyone else had, giving her access to anything and anywhere she wished.

She soaked up as much as possible.

Shawn didn’t always attend soundcheck with his band, but for (y/n) he definitely wanted to be there so she could fully experience it. She stayed backstage, chatting with Shawn’s people while he did his meet and greet photos. She sat in on his Q&A session but stayed unobtrusively toward the back of the room. She could talk to him whenever she wanted; this was his fans’ time with him.

The concert was unbelievable, as (y/n) knew it would be. Shawn always left his heart and gratitude on stage.

That night they were in (y/n)’s room, she on one of the doubles, Shawn in the other. He was still a little high on adrenaline, asking her how she enjoyed the day, and especially how she enjoyed the show.

She knew it wouldn’t be long before he completely crashed out. When he did, he was still in her room.

~ * ~

Staples Center, Day Two, was much the same, although they started the day with Shawn dragging (y/n) to the gym to work out with him. They also skipped soundcheck to get lost together in the backstage corridors.

The closer it came to showtime, the more anxious Shawn seemed to get. He had a different vibe about him than he had the night before.

While eating dinner, (y/n) asked him if everything was alright. He assured her everything was amazing; it just felt like something big was about to happen and he hoped it would turn out to be a good kind of big.

~ * ~

Again, the show was absolutely incredible, although after the song he normally ended with, before acknowledging his band and going into the encore, he tried to quiet the deafening audience with a finger pressed against his lips.

Of course, it was futile. He just laughed, somewhat nervously, and said, “This song is for someone very special to me. Someone who is here tonight. I want her to know how I feel about her...”

That seemed to get everyone’s attention.

Shawn found (y/n) in the audience, met her eyes, and smiled adoringly.

Maybe I had too many drinks But that's just what I needed I hope that you don't think that what I'm saying sounds conceited When I look across the room, and you're staring right back at me Like somebody told a joke and we're the only ones laughin'

(Y/n)’s heart started thumping. He couldn’t be singing this for her, could he...? He had never expressed any interest in her as more than a friend. Had he?

Don't know why I tried 'Cause ain't nobody like you Familiar disappointment every single time I do Every single night my arms are not around you My mind's still wrapped around you

A couple of girls beside (y/n) bent their heads together and pointed to something or someone standing to the side of the stage. Shawn seemed to notice, as she had, and looked toward the side stage.

She followed his line of vision to see Camila standing there, beaming brightly. She put her fingertips to her lips and blew him a big kiss.

(Y/n) didn’t notice, over the dizzying blood rush in her head, that Shawn seemed to stumble a little through the chorus.

Baby, tell me when you're ready I'm waitin' Baby, any time you're ready I'm waitin'

Even ten years from now If you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around Tell me when you're ready I'm waitin'

He glanced once more toward Camila, but just as quickly his smile settled again in (y/n)’s direction. His voice steadied and grew stronger.

What if my dad is right When he says that you're the one No, I can't even argue I won't even fight him on it Call you when it's late And I know that you're in bed 'Cause I'm three hours back Seems like you're always six ahead

(Y/n) smiled back, although it seemed more reflexive than genuine, as her heart was currently crumbling to pieces. She tried her hardest to be happy for her best friend and the woman he was currently confessing his feelings for, on stage, in front of everyone.

Don't know why I tried 'Cause ain't nobody like you Familiar disappointment every single time I do Every single night my arms are not around you My mind's still wrapped around you

Baby, tell me when you're ready I'm waitin' Baby, any time you're ready I'm waitin'

Even ten years from now If you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around Tell me when you're ready I'm waitin', yeah

And if I have to, I'll wait forever Say the word and I'll change my plans Yeah, you know that we fit together I know your heart like the back of my hand...

Before the song ended, overwhelmed, unable to continue her façade, (y/n) had slipped from the crowd and backstage.

She wasn’t sure where to go once she was backstage. She was fighting back tears, so her vision was blurry, but she didn’t want to stop to ask anyone how to get out of the venue because they might ask why she was crying and then it would all turn into one big mess.

A voice from behind her asked, “You’re Shawn’s friend, right? Are you looking for his dressing room?” Was she? Would she be able to face him after his encore and bows?

“Yes, please,” she found herself answering.

“End of the corridor, turn right, first door on the left.”

(Y/n) nodded her thanks and began to follow the directions she was given. She wasn’t sure if it would be the first or last place anyone would be looking for her.

~ * ~

Shawn burst into his dressing room, out of breath from the end of his show and running around looking for (y/n). Incredibly relieved to see her, he gasped, “Are you okay? What happened?? You just disappeared!”

“I’m sorry. I just needed a few minutes.”

“In the middle of the most important song of the night?”

Her voice cracked. “I said I was sorry.” And she was. She should have stayed till the end. “I was caught off guard.”

“Oh no, babe. Shit! I’m sorry, (y/n). I overwhelmed you, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have made it so public. It should have been a private conversation. Forgive me?” he whispered.

“Of course. You’re my best friend and I’m happy for you,” she smiled softly, truly. And she was. His happiness meant more to her than anything else. It was just going to take some time to refortify her heart. “I wish you and Camila the best.”

“Camila?” Little wrinkles formed between his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean, what am I talking about?” she puffed.

Suddenly Shawn started laughing.

(Y/n) placed her hands in the center of his chest and pushed him away, unamused.

He caught her wrists and pulled her to him. “I wasn’t singing that song for her.” He placed her hands over his heart and covered them with his own. “I was singing it for you, my beautiful, clueless, wonderful, precious love.”

“What?” she exhaled.

“I finished singing and looked for your eyes, only to find you gone.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend. Not Camila. You, (y/n). In front of the entire Staples Center audience. Why did you think I wanted Camila?”

“You kept looking at her side stage.”

“I glanced at her twice,” he contended, lightheartedly. “I was surprised. I didn’t expect her to be here tonight. It’s true that she recently told me she has deeper feelings for me-”

“And you have always had feelings for her.”

“I had feelings for her. Past tense. Before I met you. Are you really arguing with me about how I feel about you?” he smirked.

“But you didn’t sing that song last night, when Camila wasn’t here.”

“You are!” he laughed again.

“Stop laughing!” she exclaimed, unable to stop herself from giggling, her heart blooming with hope. She then whispered, “Did you really mean it?”

“Oh, darling...

“If I had professed my feelings last night and you had turned me down, I don’t think I would have been able to get through tonight. Telling you tonight, when there were three days before San Francisco, would have either given us time to disappear together for a few days, or would have given me time to sort myself out if you didn’t want me the way I want you.

“Please tell me you want me.”

(Y/n) wanted to scream, yes, I want you!, but instead she teased, trying to keep a straight face, “I don’t know. Any boyfriend of mine has to be a good kisser. Are you a good kisser?”

“I am a fantastic kisser,” he grinned. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and slid his hand to the nape of her neck.

“Prove it.”

His other hand circled her waist, fell against the small of her back. He leaned in, watched her eyelids flutter, then close, and gently guided her lips to his.

She had imagined this moment for so long but it was much more than she had ever expected. Thousands of thoughts were forced away to make room for one single idea. How could one kiss cause the world to fall away around her?

“Shawn,” she said, breathless, easing away.

“Still proving it,” he murmured. He softly licked at the seam of her lips, and when she responded he deepened their kiss. Her heart was pounding, and she was warm from head to toe. She felt his tongue meet hers and her entire body began to hum.

Their knees were weak when their lips separated.

Shawn touched his nose to hers. “Well...?”

“I will be more than happy to kiss you all night long, but only after you take a shower,” she giggled.

~ * ~

(Y/n) knocked on the adjoining door. She didn’t wait for a response before letting herself through.

Shawn was leaning against the dresser, partly sitting on it, phone to his ear, wearing nothing but baggy, cotton pajama pants. His chest and feet were bare. By his side of the conversation, (y/n) grasped that they were talking about the plan for the days leading up to San Francisco.

He held his hand out to her in invitation. His legs fell open and she automatically moved into the V they made. He ended his call, set his cell aside, and placed his large hands on her hips.

“So, about what you said... Something about kissing me all night long?”

She moved even closer to him. One of her hands curled around the back of his neck, the other tangled in his still damp curls. The roughened pads of his thumbs caressed the bare, soft skin just above the waistband of her pajama shorts.

She kissed him, tenderly at first, and then with growing intensity. He gently bit her top lip, sucked it, her teeth tugged on his lower lip. His kiss was determined and sent her head spinning. She began to tremble as she clung to him.

Shawn’s lips slowed and softened; he eased away and breathed, “I’ve already waited so long; we can take our time.” He slid his hands further up (y/n)’s sides, under her shirt. “We don’t have to rush into anything. I can wait for you.” She felt his thumbs brush either side of her breasts.

She started trailing tiny kisses from his chin up along his jawline before touching the tip of her tongue to the lobe of his ear. “I don’t want to wait,” she purred.

“Oh, thank God,” he groaned before again pressing hungry lips to hers.

She responded without hesitation.

Her hands trailed down his chest and to his sides, her fingers playing over the ripples of his stomach. She brushed her knuckles against the start of his arousal and his breath hitched, cupped him through thin cotton.

He arched his pelvis against the heat of her palm and she heard a low, rumbling moan from the back of his throat. He tangled a hand in her hair, tugged gently. He bit down on the skin of her clavicle, sucked, soothed it with his tongue.

She pulled away from his mouth. “Shawn!” she scolded, playfully, chuckled, “You’re going to leave a mark!”

“Good. Show everyone you’re mine. Mark you everywhere. But this,” he smirked, kissing the already purpling bloom, “will be the only one people can see.”

“Fuck,” she sighed. His claim on her made a shiver trickle up her spine.

“If you insist,” he grinned, smugly.

Feeling bold and sexy, she hooked a fingertip in the waistband of his pajama bottoms and starting walking backward. He stood to his full height and followed.

(Y/n) felt the backs of her legs hit the mattress. With fluid movement, she slid her shorts down, stepped out of them, and pulled her camisole up and over her head. She stood before him in small lace panties, breasts bare, nipples tight.

The way he looked upon her made her blood thrum, her body flush. He licked his lips, bit softly on the fuller, lower one.

His hand reached out and cupped one of her breasts. He gently tugged at her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Instinctively, her hand slipped between her legs, at her core, and she rubbed herself through the damp lace. His nostrils flared when he caught the scent of her arousal. He whimpered, her name falling like a prayer from his lips.

“I wanna see you,” (y/n) purred.

Obeying, oh so eagerly, Shawn pushed his pants down, over his ass, off, his cock bouncing free, filling, curling up toward his stomach right before her eyes. He wrapped thumb and forefinger around the base, his other fingers pressed flush against his scrotum.

“Been thinking about me like this?” he hummed.

Yes. God, yes. Maybe one day she would tell him just how much. It was her turn to lick her lips and bite the lower one.

They fell together onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and with a crash of lips. When they separated to catch their breath, (y/n) reached over to turn off the bedside lamp.

“Nuh-uh, Sugar,” Shawn rasped. “Waited too long for this.” Voice rough with desire he sang softly, “I wanna love you with the lights on, keep you up all night long... Darling, I wanna see every inch of you, I get lost in the way you move...”

She might have giggled if her panties weren’t being drawn down over her hips, if calloused fingertips hadn’t begun to dance along soft, hot, electrified skin, lips and tongue following.

He took a dusky, peaked nipple into his mouth. Her back arched, hands grasping at the sheets at her sides, and moaned softly. He sucked her other nipple into his mouth, tasting, humming.

“Shawn,” she whined, moving a hand to tangle it in his dark curls, tugging him away from her breasts.

“Tell me what you want, Love.”

“I want you. I need you,” she pleaded.

“What was that?”

“Fuck me, Shawn.”

“Mm... Since you asked so sweetly,” he smirked, stroking his cock. He rolled on a condom and moved to rest between her legs.

She reached between them, taking him in her hand, and he shuddered. She wanted to feel the moment he slid into her. He let her guide him. Their eyes met and held, bodies drew together, foreheads touched. She groaned with deep satisfaction into his mouth as she adjusted to his girth and length.

He wheezed, stilled as he bottomed out. She was so tight around him that if he began to move in that moment it would be over too soon.

“You okay there, Mendes?” she purred and imperceptibly tightened her legs around his waist.

“Oh God.” That tiny shift was almost too much. “You feel so good. Too good,” he mumbled. “I need a minute.” His arms on either side of her, holding his weight above her, he buried his lips in the crook of her neck, centered on the scent of her skin as he salvaged control.

One hand again tangled in in his hair, the other stroked the skin of his upper back.

“Okayokay,” he mumbled, and he began to rock into her, slow... rhythmic... deep.

She gasped when the pebbled nubs of her breasts brushed against his taut nipples. Her whimpers and groans mingled with his rumbles and moans. She was torn between closing her eyes and wanting to watch his face as warmth and pleasure coursed through her.

He wanted her to climax before him. Wanted to watch her fall apart beneath him.

He knew she was nearly there when she began to ripple on the bed like a wave on the sea. The tide came all the way up; he was caught in the rush. And then the knot at the root of his cock dissolved in fire and he was falling fast, craving the feel of her so close to him, unsure where he ended and she began.

( FIN )

~ * ~

@theregoesmyherojd @benito-mi-vida @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @mendesblurb

[robininthelabyrinth]

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Lan Wangji does not think it’s safe to raise A-Yuan in Cloud Recesses after the Lans participated in the killing of his zhiji and the entire Burial Mounds community (or more accurately that it’s not safe while he himself is in seclusion and can’t watch over A-Yuan, at least) so he delivers A-Yuan to the one person who he knows did not stand against Wei Wuxian (and got away with it, bc this person has never stood against anything, since standing takes effort): Nie Huaisang.

Little Side Door - ao3

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used.

They hadn’t originally. The Unclean Realm was a fortress, designed to maximize protection and defense; there was no better place for keeping things safe by locking them away. While it had its fair share of boltholes and escape routes, they were not common and universally difficult to access lest the enemy learn of them and use them to their advantage. Even the layout of their open spaces were carefully planned lest the attack come from the sky, a concern that only cultivators had, and not about how they themselves could escape – after all, weren’t they all Nie, ready to die rather than endure dishonor?

The little side door that led to Nie Huaisang’s room opened onto a small rock garden, left to grow wild with weeds rather than reveal its presence to more people. It existed only because his brother had ordered it constructed by those he trusted most, all in secret in the dark of the night. He had never explained why he had gone to such lengths to create such an unwelcome and inauspicious place, but then, he hadn’t needed to – Nie Huaisang had been there, too, when his father had descended into madness and they had been trapped in the familial quarters with no way out that did not take them through him. If his brother had been the one to brave his father’s rage directly, Nie Huaisang had been the one stuck in a small space that was only not claustrophobic because it was so painfully familiar.

Now, though his father was long dead and gone, Nie Huaisang had a little side door.

A little side door, and a little garden that almost no one knew about; in combination with the saber that his brother forced him to learn and the golden core he had so begrudgingly formed, he now had a way to reach the sky and the illusive freedom it represented – the freedom to flee and leave his home behind.

If it ever happens again – his brother had said once, the closest he had ever come to speaking of it.

He did not finish his sentence, as Nie Huaisang had thrown his plate into his face and stormed off, steaming mad and close to tears. He did not raise the subject a second time.

Nie Huaisang did not often use his little side door.

Although he enjoyed gardens, he preferred the aviary he’d constructed, or one of the myriad of well-tended gardens in the main part of the sect; even the vegetable gardens out back beside the kitchens were far more welcoming than that sparse straggle of land. He’d only ever spent time there when he was a child and in desperate need of some quiet, wanting to avoid adults with their arguments and their miseries; he’d taken some friends there because he thought it might impress them, but it hadn’t, and anyway his brother had put a stop to that soon enough.

He didn’t even think about the little side door, most days. It was just a part of the room, a small tucked away corner with nothing in it. Nothing to think about.

And then, of course, years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside.

Nie Huaisang nearly fell over sideways in his scramble to get up, and then once again when he realized where the noise was coming from – almost no one knew about his side door and its little garden, and so no one had ever come to him through it. Who would be knocking now…?

He opened it.

Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

And then he turned and staggered away, mounting up on Bichen and flying off before Nie Huaisang could say anything – before he could even finish searching his memories and recalling that yes, in fact, Lan Wangji had been one of the friends he had shown the side door to, years and years before, and thus knew how to find it. Before he could even start processing the thousands of thoughts that had spring to life, fully formed, at all the information he’d just received: the bloody robes, the desperation, the reference to the Lan sect – the Lan sect! – being somehow untrustworthy…

He looked down at his arms.

“Congratulations,” he echoed blankly. “I have a child now.”

The child blinked up at him, and then smiled.

-

“Da-ge!” Nie Husiang howled, rushing into the sect leader’s study where his brother was doing work – luckily it wasn’t receiving hours and he wasn’t in the main hall, as that would have been unfortunate. “Da-ge, you have to help me! I have a child now!”

His brother stared at him, expression blank and mouth slightly agape. The brush in his hand dripping ink onto a now-wasted piece of paper.

“Huaisang,” he said after a moment. “What the fuck.”

Nie Huaisang nodded furiously.

“Where did you get – how – who – what did you do?!”

“I am currently unable to disclose any details,” Nie Huaisang said promptly even as his brother tossed aside the brush and got up, striding over with a storm brewing in his face. “All I can say is that I have to raise this child now. By which I mean, you have to help me raise this child now; I can’t raise children! I’m not mature enough to raise a child!”

“No kidding! Why would someone entrust – to you…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, looking down at the child with a frown that shifted from disbelieving irritation to concern. He pressed his hand to the child’s forehead. “Huaisang, this child has a high fever. We need to get him to the medical wing at once – is that blood?”

“Not his, I don’t think?”

“I don’t want to know,” his brother decided. “Move.”

Some time later, they were both sitting next to the bed in one of the spare rooms in the family quarters; Nie Huaisang thought it might even have been the same one that he’d used when he was very young. A-Yuan was sleeping, and Nie Mingjue was still holding his little hand in his own, having been clocked as the oversize comfort animal that he not-so-secretly was from the very first moment A-Yuan laid eyes on him.

The doctors had declared A-Yuan’s fever to be very severe, but they had applied plenty of medicine – the Lan sect might have more esoteric healing techniques, but there wasn’t anything like the Nie sect when it came to standard medicine for injuries and illnesses associated with the battlefield, and despite A-Yuan’s tender age Nie Huaisang would be willing to bet that his injuries were from a battlefield. They were confident that A-Yuan would make a full recovery, body and mind both intact, although they warned that his memory of the past might be impacted.

Nie Huaisang had thought about all that blood that wasn’t his, of Lan Wangji pale-faced and wild-eyed, and decided that a little bit of forgetting might not be so bad after all.

“Are you going to tell me anything more,” his brother said after a while. “Or should I just give up now?”

Nie Huaisang leaned over and patted his knee. “It’s good that you know your limitations.”

His brother rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he remarked.

“What part?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious. “The fact that we have a kid now, because obviously we’re keeping him? Or the fact that someone gave a kid to me?”

“Both,” his brother decided. “Definitely both.”

-

“His name’s A-Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said. “Apparently.”

“Well,” his brother said. “Obviously that won’t do.”

-

Nie Huaisang had the ability to be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn’t a matter of stealth, he had explained to his brother, but sneakiness– a completely different concept. Stealth suggested that he was doing something to conceal himself and required skills and talent, or else a lot of practice, and obviously Nie Huaisang was not going to go in for either of those.

Sneakiness, though…

He didn’t need people not to be able to see him in order to be sneaky. He just needed them not to care about him, or wonder where he was.

“Psst,” he said, knocking on the window to the rooms where Lan Wangji was purportedly practicing seclusion. “Psst! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji had given him a child. They were definitely past the ‘Lan-er-gongzi’ stage.

“Lan Zhan!” he rapped at the window with his fan. “We need a courtesy name!”

There was some sounds from within the jingshi, mostly stumbling around. Nie Huaisang waited patiently, and after a few moments the window opened and Lan Wangji stared out at him. He was as pale as a ghost with lips as red as blood, and very clearly not in seclusion at all, but rather in the midst of healing whatever wounds had left him bloody – he probably shouldn’t have gotten out of bed to answer.

Oh, well. Too late for regret now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wangji said, voice dull and eyes blank as he stared at Nie Huaisang. It was unclear if he meant in the Cloud Recesses generally, or here in particular, interrupting his ‘seclusion’.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nie Huaisang said, scowling at him. “We need a courtesy name! A courtesy name for the child, you hear me? You know, of course, that Qinghe Nie don’t use personal names, not even for children – certainlynot for children older than their first year. It’d be a complete giveaway that he’s not organically ours if we call him something like A-Yuan.”

Lan Wangji raised a hand to pinch his nose. “Please go away.”

“Courtesy name, Lan Zhan. I mean, I may be the one who’ll be raising him, but please think carefully: do you really want meto be the one naming him?”

“…call him Sizhui.”

“Sizhui,” Nie Huaisang repeated. “With the characters…?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Uh, no,” Nie Huaisang said. “I need a bettercourtesy name. Are you joking?”

“Nie Huaisang. Go away.”

“But –”

Lan Wangji slammed the window shut.

“…fine,” Nie Huaisang said to the closed window. “Be that way, see if I care. Not like we don’t need to build up a decent coparenting relationship or anything eventually.”

He thought he heard a choking sound from behind the door and smirked.

“Don’t you think you can baby-trap me and just walk away, Lan Zhan,” he said in his best ominous tone. “If you wanted someone to raise your kid without ever consulting you again, you should’ve dropped him off in the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, who’d probably be too busy being confused to even question where he came frome – but no. You came to me. I don’t make decisions in the best of times, least of all good. I have questions. A lot of questions.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not about how you got him or anything like that,” he said. “I’m not stupid, I can tell a secret when I see one. But, you know, other types of questions. Parenting stuff. Are you a ‘go sit and think about what you’ve done’ sort of parent? Or more traditional discipline, with copying lines and occasionally strikes when they’re naughty? Do you want him to learn the Lan sect rules along with the Nie sect principles –”

There was a muffled sound from inside the house.

It sounded angry.

“…we can talk about it later,” Nie Huaisang decided. He might’ve pushed his luck a bit too much. “Talk later!”

-

“You have a…what?” Lan Xichen asked, his smile a little fixed and stare a little wilder than normal.

“A nephew!” Nie Mingjue gushed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Nephew.”

“He’s so well behaved, too! He plays quietly by himself most of the time, drawing and even writing a little, and Huaisang’s already teaching him how to play the dizi –”

“When you say nephew, do you mean Nie Huaisang’s child?”

“Do I have other brothers?” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “He’s obviously not yours. Anyway, I know Meng Yao is expecting one, too, but he wouldn’t be dressed in Nie colors if it was his, would it?”

“Yes, but…are you telling me that…that Nie Huaisang…”

“It’s a battlefield child, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “Obviously. Someone entrusted him to Huaisang.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, looking relieved. “Yes, that makes more sense…wait.”

Nie Mingjue waited.

“Someone entrusted him to Nie Huaisang?”

“I know, right?” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen didn’t notice how strained his grin had suddenly become, or how thoughtful his eyes were as he surveyed Lan Xichen as if trying to find an answer to a question. “I would’ve assumed they’d go for someone more responsible, like you. Guess you never know…”

“I guess you don’t,” Lan Xichen agreed, looking down at the child with a bemused expression. A battlefield child, entrusted to Nie Huaisang… “They must have been truly driven to desperation.”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, and then changed the subject to little Nie Sizhui’s accomplishments, of which he could list many at great length and very great enthusiasm. By the time he was done with that, Ln Xichen was so overwhelmed that he didn’t ask a single other question.

-

“So I’ve got an idea on how to do this whole co-parenting thing,” Nie Huaisang said, cracking nuts to eat. He was sitting next to Lan Wangji’s bedside, and dropping the shells straight on the floor, too, staring dead-eyed at Lan Wangji as if daring him to say something – which he wouldn’t, of course. “Since with Sizhui starting classes soon it’s become much more urgent, on account of me needing you to attend meetings with his teachers and discuss his progress.”

Lan Wangji looked deeply long-suffering. He’d only invited Nie Huaisang inside because Nie Huaisang had threatened to start shouting out his business loudly on account of oh but Lan Zhan, how was I to know if you could hear me in there, I just had to raise my voice just in case because I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the extremelyimportant news –

It was all Lan Wangji’s fault for being born earlier than Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang thought virtuously. It was merely Nie Huaisang’s lot in life to fulfill the role of annoying younger brother to everyone.

“See, it’s the music,” Nie Huaisang continued. “You do music, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ice-cold glare suggested that he did, in fact, ‘do music’.

“So your brother has been playing this song for da-ge on a regular basis,” Nie Huaisang explained, ignoring the glare entirely. “And when he’s not available, which is most of the time nowadays, he’s been sending san-ge instead. Even though, of course, poor san-ge’s so busy back at Lanling all the time…ughh, it’s so unfair, you know! Poor san-ge has to do all the work of being the heir and gets none of the benefits, and they pile even more work on him on top of that – really, he gets no respect.”

Lan Wangji’s expression suggested he didn’t care.

“And think about the inconvenience to us!” Nie Huaisang sallied forth, undeterred. “People coming and going all the time, da-ge having to interrupt his schedule of spending quality time with me and Sizhui – and sect leader work, of course, though that’s less important – in order to march over to greet them and host them and listen to them…what a pain it is!”

Lan Wangji appeared on the verge of suggesting that Nie Huaisang consider getting to the point.

“So you should come do it instead.”

Lan Wangji’s expression cracked, suggesting that Nie Huaisang had actually managed to make an impact.

“You remember,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse from all that refusing to speak he’d been doing. Really, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t around to goad him into it, he might’ve lost the voice entirely – he didn’t even have little Sizhui around to force him to speak! “That I’m in seclusion. Right?”

“You’re horribly lonely is what you are,” Nie Huisang said briskly. “You require company. Therefore, coming to take up a semi-permanent posting in the Unclean Realm to play the Song of Clarity for my brother morning, noon, and night is clearly the finest way to solve all of our problems, and for you to see little Sizhui as often as you like.”

Lan Wangji visibly wavered. “My brother,” he said, then coughed. “My brother will never believe it.”

“That’s your problem,” Nie Huaisang said. “Find a way to sell it.”

He stood, shaking the remaining shells onto the chair.

“See you in Qinghe soon, Lan Zhan..!”

Lan Wangji was trying to kill him with his mind, Nie Huaisang thought happily as he wandered off with a whistle and a vaguely silly expression. Good – he’d been inside for too long. He needed the stimulation.

-

“Truly,” Nie Mingjue remarked, strolling around their gardens without any apparent notice of the small child perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly at the feeling of being tall, “I feel far better than I did before! One can scarcely compare it – night and day, really. Your Lan sect’s Song of Clarity is a marvel, even if it does take a while before it kicks in.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He was still unsteady on his feet on account of the absolutely horrific injuries he’d incurred – but if the Lan sect’s response to everything was seclusion, seclusion, seclusion, then the Nie sect’s equivalent response was exercise. These little excursions through the gardens were the result.

Thus far, they were still only doing laps around the main gardens, but Nie Huaisang had plans to eventually force Lan Wangji to go even as far as his own little side garden. He’d made it through his side door once, after all; why not a second time..?

At any rate, Nie Huaisang still wasn’t quite sure how Lan Wangji had talked Lan Xichen into allowing him to come to the Unclean Realm, but it really did make the whole co-parenting business a lot more convenient. And his brother had had so much fun making Lan Wangji stiff and awkward over all his thanks and praise for his decision to come ‘help out’ with Nie Sizhui’s raising until finally, at last, Nie Huaisang had taken pity and revealed that Nie Mingjue knew perfectly well whose battlefield child this was.

Both in terms of who had gifted him to Nie Huaisang, and who’d adopted him originally, and of course even his original surname – The little tot’s been through enough adoptions to make anyone’s head spin, his brother had said, his voice gruff as always. There’s no point in thinking back too far, is there?

Lan Wangji had been very relieved.

“Run, bobo!” Nie Sizhui cried, pointing over at a bird. “We need to get it for Sang-gege!”

Nie Mingjue snorted like a bull but obediently quickened his feet and left the rest of them behind, heading in full charge straight at the wild pheasant that was far more likely to end up on Nie Huaisang’s plate than in his aviary. It was about even odds which one Nie Sizhui meant, anyway.

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low, and Nie Huaisang looked at him. “The Song of Clarity does not take time to work. These effects should have happened at once.”

Nie Huaisang opened his fan, hiding his face as he frowned. “How odd,” he said. “And after san-ge put in all that hard work.”

“Perhaps he played it wrong.”

“Odd,” Nie Huaisang said again. “When san-ge gets so very little wrong…has your brother sent any word on the Xue Yang issue?”

“…he has not.”

“He’s going to need to pick a side eventually.”

“He does not want to make things difficult for his sworn brother.”

“Does he have only the one?” Nie Huaisang asked archly, and Lan Wangji averted his gaze. “It’s awkward for us if he doesn’t back us, and is a bad look besides…truly, it’s a wonder that san-ge managed to squeeze out the time to come here.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened. “Indeed,” he said. “One would think his father might be tempted to stop him.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” Nie Huaisang said. “Wouldn’t you just…you know, maybe when you’re feeling better, we should go visit Lanling ourselves.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, and Nie Huaisang smiled, fanning himself casually.

“I’m not the only one with a little side door,” he said. “Let’s go knocking and see what we find, shall we?”

[apompkwrites]

reader impact || first meetings: unreconciled stars

series masterlist characters: scaramouche, fischl, mona genre: fluff summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you. notes: i'm sorry fischl and mona's aren't that good :(( this is actually my first time writing for them but i hope you enjoy <33

scaramouche's playthrough -

oof scara

scara scara scara

this boy hates his chat and at this point they don't care.

it's not like he'll badmouth them, right?

think ludwig.

that's him.

he's a very angy boy please--

as for what he does?

much like childe he'd do a lot of pvp games.

he's not too keen on showing off his personal life.

he prefers that boundary between his viewers and himself, y'know?

he honestly doesn't even understand why his viewers like him.

he knows he's a mean person and yet here they are :/

he doesn't take requests from his viewers he just kinda plays whatever he wants.

imagine his viewers' surprise when they see him streaming genshin--

they asked why a lot.

"it seemed cool."

this man just wants to play some good ol' anime games.

his chat calls him soft and he just glares.

anyway now he's actually playing.

he's not really into mondstadt's characters they're all... okay to him.

he feels a bit better in liyue.

not because it's pretty oh no no no.

because look at all the enemies outside >:))

he'll clear the whole field don't test him.

anyway, now onto the unreconciled stars event :00

this man really doesn't like katheryne--

anyway at this point he's tasked with find fritz, which he doesn't really want to do.

he sees the dude on the ground but that's only after he sees someone standing next to him.

and then he sees someone standing next to him :0

"is the guy on the floor sleeping?"

"i believe so. i've tried everything, but he won't wake up."

he will pause to look at your outfit.

it's so complex but it's so cool!!!

his chat suspects something's up but... he'll just snap at them like he normally does.

but he'll silently admire you <3

also yOU'RE T I N Y ! !

and then paimon points out your clothes and the cameras pans up your body--

"heh... and by "this person over here," you mean me, right?"

he will choose the "those unique clothes are quite beautiful" option in a heartbeat.

he doesn't care that his chat is teasing him, he just wants you to know :))

he's kinda sad when you leave, though...

"please come back soon..."

his CHAT HAS NEVER SEEN HIM SO SOFT BEFORE

skip to a few events later when the constellation is revealed to be leonard's.

the sudden cutscene catches him off guard because he's prepared to fight someone.

"hi! sounds interesting... mind if i join you?"

he won't say anything but he will physically relax at the sight of you.

you make this man soft please--

he's lowkey angry when his character is teleported away from you :(

(name): the sixth of the eleven fatui harbingers

HYPEHYPEHYPE

YOU'RE SO COOL!

of course he doesn't say that but his chat can tell that's what he's thinking.

this man's eyes go wide when you order the fatui around.

please help he really likes you. you're so assertive and cute and cool and just AGH--

fischl's playthrough -

fischl can and will do cosplay streams.

her fans like to watch her because of the "character" she puts up for the camera.

honestly she just does this because she genuinely enjoys cosplaying and bringing characters to life.

oz is the nickname for her pet bird :))

she definitely gets a lot of trolls in her chat that make fun of her for her cosplays and "dumb" way of speaking.

in which case she'll just yell at them using her "dumb" way of speaking.

she really does care about how people see her but her chat comforts her a lot after, so she feels better after a few minutes :))

the games she plays are very fantasy based and take place in worlds that don't exist.

once she gets into a game, she'd pick her favorite character and cosplay as them everytime she streams that game.

sometimes she does sewing streams where she actually makes her own cosplay with her fans.

they like to make it with her if they have the materials :D

genshin impact was a game her fans recommended because they actually want to see fischl cosplay the characters.

they will beg her to do the cosplay creation on stream.

(they defintitely know who she'll choose to cosplay but it's fine)

when she reaches the unreconciled stars event, she's really excited to learn about the fated meteorite granting sleep upon touch.

she's ready to go around teyvat in search of an answer when...

"katheryne! vassal of the immernachtreich, do mine ears deceive me, or didst thou cry out mine holy name in earnest supplication not one moment ago?"

some of her chat is obviously confused by your speech but her long time viewers can understand some of it.

oz, who fischl had brought with her to play, seems excited to see your familiar flying to you :)

fischl is just as excited as he is!!

please you speak just like her and you're voice is so nice and it actually sounds like the developers put thought into what the speech would mean in "proper speech."

"a pleasure to meet you again, katheryne."

YOU'RE FAMILIAR IS JUST AS COOL AS YOU ARE!!

some of her viewers will beg for her to skip through your dialogue.

when she sees those comments, she will purposefully let your dialogue play out, proceed to read out that same dialogue, and respond to you as if she was actually talking to you.

not just to spite them but because it's also a lot of fun for her <3

"it would seem the gods have blessed us with meeting such a well-respected being!"

translation: she's really excited to have met you.

as soon as you spoke she decided she would cosplay as you.

she's already planning out all of the materials she'll need and how much time it would take.

if your familiar is a bird, you best bet oz will be in her photo shoots for your cosplay.

most of the time you're on screen, she'll talk to her viewers about you in her classic chuunibyou style <333

she's really sad when it's time for you to leave :(((

"... goodbye, fischl. you are a good listener. i enjoy chatting with you. to be honest, most of the other adventurers in the guild only ever talk to me when they wanna hear (familiar)'s reconnaissance reports... this little journey we had... it was a great adventure. i'm just sorry that is has to end so abruptly..."

she might cry wait--

she relates to you even more now :(

"ah! what am i doing? i totally broke form..."

you're too cute pleas--

mona's playthrough -

mona does a lot of nightly streams.

it's very rare for you to catch her streaming with daylight.

she likes to share things about astrology while sitting outside drinking something warm.

she'll do a lot of nightly gaming streams as well.

mainly calmer games that people can vibe to in the background.

she prefers to keep her streams lowkey and chill, much like the life she wants to lead.

if only she had the money to do so...

yes, mona is still struggling with money even as a streamer.

she greatly appreciates any donations her fans give to her because she practically relies on them to pay her rent and daily necessities.

of course, it's not like she's completely struggling, just enough to barely get her by.

anyway, her fans ask her about playing genshin impact, inticing her with their talk about the stars and night sky in the game.

she's the type of player to take her time in the environment and take a lot of pictures of her character at night.

she's actually really excited when she hears about this new event centering around the stars and sky :D

soon enough, she gets around to the part where she is need of an astrologist.

she's HYPED to hear there's an astrologist in the game.

"someone looking for me? who is it?"

she will squeal, please.

look at you!!!

your whole design has stars and is space-themed and you're so cute and you're voice is so soothing ! ! !

she really likes listening to you talk about astrology because your voice gets even softer than before.

that scene where you go to the cliff??

please she has that scene as her lockscreen <3

you just look so cool when you start to do your process.

you're so focused and the way they animate your process in the game is beautiful.

and then the fatui harbinger interrupts one of your meetings :00

you grab onto mona's character and teleport away in a cloud of stars and specks of your elemental vision.

she's kinda embarrassed when you scold her about getting involved with the harbinger--

but not only are you really cool and awesome, you're super strong, too!

please be sassy more she really likes how proud you sound :))

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

~

It’s here!! Thank you all for the support of this universe, it truly means so very much to me. Every time I get a comment, or get to read the fan fiction you all write, see the art you create...it just fills me with so much joy. I’m so excited to share the Sweater Weather sequel with you, Vaincre! Go Lions!

cw: brief mention of past injury and past abuse

~

part i: July

I’ve been holding my breath

I’ve been counting to ten

~

The media wasn’t kind. There were network shows and blogs. Magazines and papers and podcasts. Not to mention Twitter.

Remus had heard his name on all of them, even if he wasn’t listening. It was part of Alice’s job to make sure he knew what was being said about him. It was his job to tune most of it out. Some outrage. Some elation. Some confusion.

This is my question, one podcast asked. I mean, I’m happy for Black. Lupin, too. I’m happy for the hockey world to have this happen, it’s about time, I mean, tune it, come on, and all that.

I’m confused about the, you know, ‘let’s put the PT on the roster.’ I’ve seen college clips, like, those have been released, we know that he got injured, we know all that. He’s fast, we know that, too. But a lot of guys are fast.

Just…what a move by Coach Weasley. A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Remus had always loved to run. It cleared his head. It had been one of the forms of exercise he had been able to do first once his shoulder had healed, before weights or any sort of strength training. His therapists had recommended it. Endorphins, they had said.

But Remus liked it because it was the closest he had been able to get to gliding on the ice, even when he still couldn’t stand to even look at a rink.

A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Remus was used to not knowing. He was beginning to think he thrived on it. Would he play hockey again? Would he ever find love? Would Sirius want him?

Was this really happening?

He didn’t think of dreams as coming so late, but, then again, why should dreams be put on any sort of time schedule?

Now, he banged out the screen door and onto the rickety, well-loved porch of the lake house that had been passed down through his family for years. His mother and her brothers split it up in the summer, overlapping for a week or so, and there were always little gifts left behind for each family at the trade-off. A bottle of the best maple syrup, or some of the local honey. They were small, but Remus smiled when he saw what his uncle and aunt and cousins had left for him and Sirius after his parents and Julian had given them the month of July with the house to themselves. A little flower arrangement with two hockey sticks, carved out of wood, sticking up in the middle.

Sirius had plucked one from the dirt, twirled it over in his fingers, and smiled.

“Your family will never stop surprising me.”

Green Lake was deep, prime for fishing, and gorgeous. The smell of the water, of the soil and sweet summer air was as good as home to Remus. He breathed it in now as he bent to lace up his sneakers. He could smell the fire pit that they had lit last night, one that he and Julian had roasted thousands of marshmallows over.

“I showed Jules how to roast the perfect marshmallow here,” Remus had said that first July night, leaning back against Sirius’ chest.

Sirius had blew out his burnt-black one. “Like this?”

Remus had scoffed. “No, you heathen.”

Sirius looked good here, surrounded by the woods and rusty cabin, wearing the old fleeces that never seemed to leave this place for when the sun had yet to warm the chilly mornings. Some mornings, they’d make their coffee, tangle their socked feet together on the small couch until the sun began to get high and they’d strip it all off in favor of swimsuits and sunscreen. Other mornings, Remus would rise, pressing a gentle kiss to Sirius’ sleeping face, and take to the dirt road that ran around the lake.

Sirius, just off of the hard won playoffs, needed to rest. Remus needed to train.

A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

They would leave in two days for Pascal’s Cup Day celebration, and then to meet Remus’ parents, his little brother Julian, and Regulus back in Gryffindor for Sirius’ Cup Day. And August training. Remus stretched his hands to his toes and closed his eyes. A strange type of adrenaline filled him whenever he thought about practicing with the team, about the fitness tests that would come first. He’d have to prove himself again and again. He wanted to. But part of him wondered what would happen if he couldn’t.

The screen door squeaked open and shut again, and Remus jumped, looking up to find Sirius, still sleep rumpled, standing there in running shorts.

Remus laughed, reaching up to trace a pillow crease in his cheek. “You’re supposed to be sleeping in while you can.”

Sirius let out a grumbly sort of yawn and gathered his hair, long from the summer and just brushing his chin now, back into a small half-up bun.

“I can’t believe you do this before coffee.”

“Too acidic. Gives you running stitches.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius sighed, and threw his arm around Remus’ shoulders as they walked up the steep driveway to the road.

Remus kissed his wrist. “I’ll miss being here with you.”

Sirius smiled. He was tan from the summer, hair dark as ever and his skin sun-kissed.

Remus leaned into his shoulder. “I mean look at you. I like seeing you this relaxed.”

Sirius bit his lip as the rounded a bend, waving at Mrs. Barrow, who was tending to her garden.

“I don’t think I knew I could be this relaxed,” Sirius admitted. “It was always train, train, train, you didn’t get a Cup, try harder.”

Remus was familiar with the notes that appeared in Sirius’ voice now from years of Sirius’ small slips in conversation, even when, to Remus, Sirius had only been they youngest captain in the league, cold and reserved from even more years of his father’s abusive, relentless attitude towards hockey and Sirius’ skills. Even when Remus had only been the team’s physical therapist, closeted, crushing on Sirius, and surprised by the cracks Sirius showed when he had gotten his ankle smashed by Severus Snape, Captain of the Slytherin Snakes—the Gryffindor Lions greatest rivalry. Pain, it had seemed, and fear of never stepping on the ice again, had given Remus his first glimpses into a different Sirius beneath it all, a boy who was filled with much more than just a need to win, but for whom the want of winning only made him love his sport, and his team, more.

“And now that you have a Cup?” Remus asked. “How’re you feeling?”

They came to the road and Sirius balanced on one foot, stretching his thigh. “Now that I have you,” he said. “I’m feeling just fine.”

Remus snorted. “Yeah, the Stanley Cup Champion part has nothing to do with it.”

Sirius laughed, but took Remus’ face between his palms. “If I didn’t have you, and I had only a Cup, all I would be doing right now is thinking about another Cup.”

Remus put a hand on his chest, fingers finding the number twelve pendant that rested there.

“Now, there’s more,” Sirius said simply, and leaned down for a tender kiss. “Like your mother’s peach pie.”

Remus punched him in the arm as Sirius laughed loudly.

“You’ll have to beat me if you want a slice of that!” Remus called as he took off.

Sirius made a wounded noise, but sprinted after him until they were side by side again.

~

“I don’t think I can leave this beach,” Leo mumbled into the lounging cabana they were spread out beneath, and Logan looked down at him from where he was reading—trying to read—one of the books Finn had given him. He didn’t know how many books Finn had tried to get him to read over the years, but he knew he never made it through more than a few pages without looking up, getting distracted, or having to go back.

“Non?” Logan asked.

Leo shook his head. “The sun. The sea. I’m in heaven.”

“What about hockey?”

“Brr.”

Logan laughed and settled back into the pillows, setting the book aside and rolling towards Leo to feel his sun-warmed back and leaned down to kiss his temple. A private beach definitely had its perks—and so did three hockey salaries.

“We’ll just stay here, then.”

They’d had a good summer. Leo’s Cup Day, Finn’s, his own, all in their hometowns and accompanied by large parades and fanfare. Logan had finally gotten to take Leo home to his sisters and parents for the first time. It had been nice to see Finn around his family again, too, after what felt like eons of avoiding him in that small gap between being at Harvard and then them both making it to the NHL, and to the Lions.

Leo’s sleepy smile up at him melted Logan like ice in the sun.

“Okay, good,” Leo said, then his eyes went behind Logan. “There’s the ghost-on-toast with our drinks.”

Logan snorted and looked up to see Finn—and Finn’s tiny blue swim shorts that he insisted weren’t see-through—walking towards them through the sand from the resort bar with a tray of drinks in his hands.

“Hey, lover-nuts,” Finn said as he set the tray down in the shade. “Got us some snacks, too. That bar tender loves me.”

“You are so pale,” Leo laughed. “I love you, though, please put more sunscreen on.”

“Keep your sandy feet off my towel,” Logan nudged Finn’s foot with his own as he reached for his drink. Finn just smiled and nodded at the book.

“How is it?” Finn asked.

Logan just looked at him.

He laughed and ran a hand through Logan’s salty, damp hair. “I know. I’ll read it to you later. I just thought you might want something for the beach!”

Logan held up his cocktail. “I have something for the beach.”

They settled back under their cabana, the thin, white linen curtains fluttering around them in the three o’clock breeze. Maybe Logan, as he closed his eyes between Leo and Finn, Leo’s hand still on his thigh, Finn’s arm pillowing the back of his neck, never wanted to leave this beach, either.

“Back to Gryffindor tomorrow,” Logan said.

“Group chat says most guys’ll be back this week,” Finn said, squinting at his phone over his sunglasses. “We gotta be back for Dumo’s, and then Cap’s Cup Day. That’ll be nice, man.”

“I like that they’re bringing it to Gryffindor Pride,” Leo said, rolling onto his back. “Should have thought of that. Or, I guess…” Leo trailed off and Logan frowned. They couldn’t do that. Not yet, at least. Leo caught Logan’s expression and rested a reassuring hand on his thigh. “I’m glad we get to go, even if its for them on the surface. That’s real thoughtful of them, you know?”

Logan nodded. It was thoughtful. When Remus and Sirius had brought it up to them, he’d found himself getting a little choked up.

“We want you guys to be able to experience that, too,” Remus had said. “If you want. No matter what you decide to do public-wise in the future.”

Finn clicked his phone off and chucked it to the side. “Hey, don’t take me off island time yet. We’ll order to the room, eat on the deck, hike up and stargaze…”

Finn rattled off the perfect list, tilting towards Logan until their lips met.

“And then we’ll go win another Cup.”

Leo and Logan punched him at the same time.

~

Thomas sat in the shade with Kasey as they watched Alex try to take on Natalie and Noelle at pool basketball.

“I really think they’re going to accidentally drown him,” Thomas said thoughtfully.

“He probably thinks that, too, and is just too competitive to stop,” Kasey replied.

Thomas laughed, and held out his beer to cheers.

“This is a nice house the O’Haras have, man,” he looked at the sparkling ocean beyond the steps and fence, and at the pool with the grill and lounge chairs. They’d only come up for the weekend, between training and visiting their own families, and before returning to Gryffindor for the season.

“Tell me about it.”

“Cheating!” Alex spluttered from the pool as Natalie put all of her weight on him to dunk him under the water. Alex pointed very seriously to the foot marker on the side tile. “We agreed from that to Thomas’ chair, I was too far away!”

“Too bad!” Noelle shouted as she made another basket.

Thomas didn’t think it was the alcohol that made him feel a little fuzzy at the edges as he looked over her in her swimsuit. She was all curves of tanned muscle, softened the summer around her stomach and arms. Thomas was a goner. But she seemed pretty gone, too, so he guessed it was all right.

“This moment’s always rough,” Kasey said softly from beside him, and when Thomas looked at him questioningly, he gestured vaguely with his beer. “The end of July. One more month, but not really. Alex’ll go back for training, you know? It’s like a trick. I always think, I get three months with these two. But it’s more like two and the first week of August.”

Thomas nodded. “I know. Noelle, too. Her training camp starts on the eight. I’m just…”

Kasey sighed in sympathy.

“At least you have Nat, you know?” Thomas said. “Not that I’m saying you have it easier, I just…”

Kasey shook his head. “I know. Believe me, I’m thankful for that every day. But…when you miss someone, you miss someone.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, exactly.”

Last season hadn’t been too bad. His relationship with Noelle had been new. They only really knew FaceTime dates, and squeezed in weekend flights that sometimes left them more exhausted than sated. They had been taking it slow. Thomas had been kissed by Noelle—a lot. Enough to make him dizzy with it. Only, then she’d met him at the airport in Quebec, they’d spent a month with her family in France…

And Thomas wasn’t sure he knew how to do just FaceTime anymore. There was a new yearning, knotted just below his heart. He knew what her skin felt like under his hands now, knew what she looked like right when she waked up, even her skincare routine before bed. It would feel like being away from the ice for too long, the knot pulling tight. He thought this year was going to be harder. Maybe he knew it, but if he did, he was pretending it might be easy still.

“T,” Noelle called, floating on her back, dark hair fanned out in the water. “C’mere!”

Thomas smiled, setting his drink down. He would come, whenever she called. Wherever.

~

Cole Reyes didn’t know if Adele Dumais staring at him the way she was was a good thing, or a bad thing. He was nervous enough without the seemingly disapproval of Pascal Dumais'—the Pascal Dumais of the Gryffindor Lions, oldest player in the league—teenage daughter.

“Don’t you talk?” Marc, one of his sons, asked.

Cole blinked. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah.”

Adele waved her brother off. “They’re always super nervous at first. Remember Sirius?”

Marc scoffed. “I was a baby.”

Cole let out a breath. Now they were casually talking about Sirius Black, who had lived in the very room Cole had been sleeping in for a week now when he was a rookie, too. It was the same with Logan Tremblay. He felt like he needed to keep the room pristine, like he was living in some Hockey Hall of Fame museum that he had not earned the right to be in yet.

“You’re still a baby,” Adele shot back.

“Kids,” came Celeste, Pascal’s wife’s voice from where she was setting the table. “Come on now.”

“Sorry, maman,” Marc said softly.

“Sorry,” Adele sighed more reluctantly.

“Go help your father with the grill, you two,” she said. “Everyone will be arriving soon.”

Katie, Celeste and Pascal’s youngest daughter, perked up from where she was sitting beside Cole, drawing. Not Pascal, Dumo—Cole kept having to remind himself that he could call Pascal by his nickname now, that it was all official, that he was a Gryffindor Lion, too. Katie hadn’t left his side since he arrived a week ago to billet with the Dumais, and he still wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Even the Cup?” she asked.

Celeste laughed. “Oui, ma cherie. Cole? Would you mind going to get the flowers for the table? They’re on the kitchen counter, just inside.”

“Oh, sure, Mrs. Dumais,” Cole nodded, glad for something to do. The thought of the Cup arriving gave him the chills. He’d have to be careful not to touch it. He was scared to even look at it, to be honest. His mom would be laughing at him right about now. He wanted to call her afterwards, tell her everything.

“Call me Celeste, I told you, please,” Celeste smiled. She was lovely, with her dark hair twisted and clipped up and a summer dress as green as her eyes, silky against her olive skin.

Cole flushed, but smiled. “Celeste.”

Cole made his way through the sliding door from the back yard and through the dining room. The kitchen was one of the biggest rooms in the house—and it was a big house. Beautiful copper pans hung shining above the island, along with some herbs that Celeste grew and dried herself. It looked like something out of a magazine to Cole, and it was nice, but it wouldn’t beat his mom’s kitchen in the small apartment they shared in Boston. The small space would fill up to the brim with the smell of spices, or cobbler. The thought sent a pang right to his heart. He missed home, that was for sure. After being away for so long, for so many hockey camps, he’d hoped he would be more used to it by now.

The flowers were right where Celeste had said they would be, and he was reaching for one when the back door that led to the garage dinged open. Cole froze, sure that he was about to run into captain Sirius Black completely unprepared, when a girl stepped through instead. She was dressed in denim shorts and a white tank top, had dark brown skin, and a Gryffindor College hat over her hair, which was plaited back into many small braids.

She smiled when she saw him. No sign of surprised, or of the nervousness Cole felt when he met basically anyone.

“You must be Cole,” she said.

Cole nodded. The girl was gorgeous. Cole was a mess of nerves already. He didn’t need the stare of the teenage daughter of one of his idols, but he especially could not handle a beautiful girl right now.

“Yeah,” Cole said. “No, yeah, um. Yes.”

The girl strode forward, setting her bag down on the counter, along with a water bottle decorated in stickers. He caught a few Lions ones. She offered her hand, which was slender and had two golden rings on it. “I’m Layla. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Cole took it, trying to place her. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, I babysit for the Dumais family,” she said in explanation, then waved her hand. “Well, this year, at least. I’m actually—we’re going to be working together.”

Cole blinked. “You mean the Lions?”

She nodded. “I’m in the middle of my undergrad for physical therapy. Dumo’s amazing and he got me an internship under the new PT. You know. I’ll probably get you stick tape or something,” she laughed. “Congrats, by the way.”

Cole tilted his head and she raised an eyebrow.

“On making it to the NHL?”

“Oh,” Cole laughed. “Oh, I, yeah, thanks. You, too—or…yeah.”

Cole was going to stay in his room in the basement and never come out.

“I gotta—Mrs. Du—Celeste wants these flowers outside,” he said, picking the vases up.

“Sure thing,” Layla smiled.

“Layla,” came a shriek, and a moment later Katie Dumais came sprinting into the kitchen and wrapped herself around Layla’s legs and smiled at Cole. “This is my new hockey player.”

Cole couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t have a lot of experience with kids, but Katie sure was cute.

“Yours?” Layla gasped as she smiled at Cole. “He’s all yours, is he?”

Katie nodded. “Like Tremzy and Sirius. His name is Cole, like when Santa Clause doesn’t like you.”

Again, with the casual mentions of Logan Tremblay and Sirius Black.

“Oh, of course,” Layla laughed. “Well, I’m sure Santa Clause has never not liked you, babes. Let’s go let your mom know I’m here, okay? Your new hockey player can come with us, too.”

“He’s yours, too!” Katie insisted. “You’re here all the time, so he’s yours, too, don’t worry.”

“Oh, good,” Layla said. “I was worried.”

When Katie looked at Cole expectedly, Cole managed, “I guess everyone does need a hockey player?”

“Exactly!” Katie squealed, and Cole could only follow them outside, heart pounding.

~

It was good to be back in Gryffindor. Remus and Sirius had dropped their bags in Sirius’ entryway, said hello to Regulus, showered, and then hopped right back in the car to get to Pascal’s house.

“You two look disgustingly happy,” Regulus said, leaning forward from the back seat.

“We are,” Sirius grinned at him in the review mirror. “I am also happy,” he stroked the leather steering wheel of his Range Rover. “To be back with this baby.”

While Sirius’ hair had grown longer, Regulus had shaved his short. The curls were barely curls at all anymore, but Remus was happy to see that his seemingly ever-present dark circles had receded some.

“Why, thank you, Regulus, you look happy, too,” Remus snorted. “When do you leave for NYU’s orientation?”

“August 23rd,” he said. “Been texting with my housemates, too. They seem cool.”

“Maybe one of you will pull a Finn and fall in love with each other,” Sirius said.

“Twice,” Remus laughed, and Regulus did, too.

“I think I’ve had enough romance drama to last me a life time, thanks,” Regulus smiled. “But, yeah. I’m just…I’m focused on friends right now, I think. Normal, non-hockey creatures like you two. But that’s not to say if something came up…or I guess someone. Who knows.”

Sirius’ smile was softer this time. “Focus on whatever you want, Reg. You deserve it.”

Regulus just grumbled something about hockey gods, and then they were pulling up to the Dumais’. There were silver and white balloons lining the driveway and the fence to the backyard where, as Remus slammed his door, he could already hear laughter. A zing of excitement shot through him.

“I missed this team,” he sighed as Sirius took his hand.

Sirius pressed a kiss to his temple. “Your team.”

“Our team.”

“Jesus Christ,” Regulus said, and gave them a shove forward.

Thomas gave a loud woop when he spotted them coming out to the backyard. Regulus immediately made a B-line towards Leo and the Cubs.

“Yes! The Captain!” Thomas said and pulled Sirius into a hug. “Missed you, man.”

“You, too, T,” Sirius said. “Ready to tear it up?”

“You know it.”

Remus smiled as Thomas hugged him next. “I forgot you two train together before pre-season.”

“You two?” Thomas raised an eyebrow, the small gold hoops in his ears glinting in the sun. Remus noticed he’d shaved three stripes into one side of his head. They were a little wobbly. Maybe Noelle had done it. “You’re not coming with us?”

“You know how this one is about his routines,” Remus said, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist. “Wouldn’t want to mess anything up.”

“Please,” Sirius said. “I want you there more than I want a second—”

Remus and Thomas punched him at the same time.

“I know you weren’t just about to say that,” said an accented voice from behind Remus, and they turned to see Pascal standing there. He looked as he always did, smile lines around his eyes, gray streaks at his temples. He wore a white t-shirt and had Katie on his hip. She was definitely getting too big to be carried around like that, but Remus couldn’t see a time when Pascal would ever refuse her. He’d probably carry Adele around like that, too, if she’d let him.

“Dumo,” Sirius smiled, and took the two beers he was holding out, handing one to Remus. He kissed Katie’s forehead. “Good summer?”

“The best,” Pascal laughed, and nodded towards the edge of the yard. “Especially with the promise of seeing that thing again.”

Remus followed his gaze, and his breath caught, just as he knew it would. The Cup stood there, its guards near by with drinks and plates of food in their hands. It sat proudly on a table, surrounded by white tulips—no doubt Celeste’s doing.

“I’m excited to see you two bring it to the parade,” Pascal said. “That will be a wonderful day for everyone.”

Remus glanced at where Logan, Leo, and Finn were standing with Kasey Winter, Gryffindor’s goalie, and his partners Natalie, with her long blonde hair, and Finn’s brother Alex, who played for Tampa Bay.

Sirius’ smile lit up his face. “It will be.”

Remus peered around him. “Is that our rookie?”

Sirius scoffed. “A rookie can’t call a fellow rookie rookie, rookie.”

Remus blinked. “What did you just say?”

“That’s Cole!” Katie said. “I love him.” Then she turned and shouted his name again. He looked up from where he was standing quietly beside Jackson Nadeau, another player, and Remus suppressed a smile at the way his eyes widened when he saw Sirius.

“Oh, here we go,” Sirius mumbled.

“Oh, hush,” Remus said, and sounded far too much like his mother to himself. “You’re going to be throwing hands for him the second someone gets close, and you know it.”

“I don’t know how to tell rookies I’m just a person!” Sirius whispered as Cole began to make his way over. “They act all…”

“Star struck?” Thomas offered.

Sirius just glowered at him.

Cole Reyes did not look as young as he was. Even at 19, he was jacked, and tall, with light brown skin, green eyes, and a stripe shaved into one of his eyebrows. His hair was shaved at the sides, but longer on the top and in tight curls.

Remus glanced somewhat self-consciously down at himself. He could only put on more muscle healthily so fast. He thought he’d been doing well, but looking at Cole…

“Hello,” Cole said hesitantly and Pascal set Katie down and clapped Cole on the shoulder.

“Reyes, meet Sirius. Sirius, meet the boy who is a much better billet than you ever were.”

Sirius snorted, and Cole laughed—nervously.

“Hi, Cole,” Sirius said, and held out his hand. “I know we spoke briefly over the summer, but it’s nice to officially meet you.”

“You, too,” Cole said, smile slight. “Thanks for the call. My mom freaked out. I mean—well, me too, but my mom…” Cole stuttered out, wincing.

“Loves me?” Sirius laughed. “I get that a lot.”

“He’s so humble,” Remus shook his head jokingly. “Hi Cole, I’m Remus. Welcome to the team.”

“You too…?” Cole said hesitantly. “Well, the roster, I guess.”

“Cole,” Katie said, taking his large hand in her small one. “Come meet Tremzy. He’s my best friend.”

Sirius feigned a pout. “What about me?”

Katie smiled sheepishly, throwing herself at Sirius’ legs, “You, too!”

“Always one-uped by Tremblay,” Thomas laughed, shaking his head. “How’s it feel, Cap?”

“Wonderful,” Sirius said dryly and then looked down at Katie, petting her head. “Go on, go show Cole your best friend.”

They watched her lead Cole through the crowd for a moment before Sirius huffed.

“See?” Sirius whispered to Remus. “It’s like he’s scared of me.”

“I’ve never heard you use the phrase spoke briefly in my life. Who are you, Alice?”

“I was trying to be professional!”

Remus laughed. “Why?”

Sirius just rolled his eyes and dragged him over to stack their plates with food.

The party went well into the evening, the sky pink and blue in the setting sun. There were lanterns floating in the pool where Evgeni and Jackson were playing chicken with a delighted Marc and Louis, or sometimes one of Coach Arthur Weasley’s boys, on their shoulders. Logan was sitting with Cole and Finn, cradling a sleepy Katie against his chest, Leo and Regulus laughing with Kasey and Alex.

Remus found Sirius again standing alone in front of the Cup. His hair was falling into his face, the curls gentled by the evening breeze and the Cup’s silver surface reflecting the silver of Sirius’ eyes. Remus went to stand beside him, and neither of them spoke for a moment.

“I’m nervous,” Remus broke the silence.

Sirius nodded. “I know, mon loup.”

Remus sighed, resting his head against Sirius’ arm. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” Sirius switched his drink to his other hand so he could run his fingers through Remus’ hair. “This is…big.”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted,” Remus whispered. It felt dangerous, to say the words aloud. “It’s everything that I lost. Last time.”

Remus could still feel Fenrir Greyback rip at his shoulder, even if it was years ago now, while they were still at college. Being in the NHL meant that Remus would have to play against him again whenever they met Vegas.

Sirius turned towards him, hand on his cheek.

“You will have this,” he said earnestly, and then smile, reaching into his shirt for his necklace, the one Remus had gifted him last Christmas. He brought it to his lips. “Loops.”

Remus smiled at the now familiar sight, touching the pendant when Sirius’ let it drop.

“You know,” Remus said. “You’re everything I’ve always wanted, too.”

Sirius’ smile was one of Remus’ favorites, and he tucked him against his side. Remus followed his gaze to find him looking at Cole again.

“I’m not happy with the way it happened,” Sirius said softly, and Remus knew he was thinking of the pictures that someone had leaked of them kissing. The pictures that had upturned their entire lives. “But I’m glad I get to hold you like this in front of new faces. I wasn’t thinking about trades—I try not to—but getting Reyes, if things had been different, would have meant we were back to square one at parties like these.”

Remus nodded, taking a drink. “And he seemed okay with it. With us.”

“I was thinking we should invite him to train with us. With me, you, and T. Maybe Dumo would join, too. I know he usually goes with Sergei, but Sergei might be with Kuns and Nado, even though they usually like it just them. The Cubs—”

“Okay, Captain, okay,” Remus laughed.

Sirius pressed a hand over his eyes, laughing. “I just don’t like it when they’re nervous around me. Like Leo was. It’s so much better now that we’re friends.”

“You’ll get there with him,” Remus said. “Yeah, invite him to train with us. The more the merrier.”

Secretly, Remus wanted to see how Cole trained. He couldn’t shake the analytical side of him, the physical therapist side. Cole was built for such a young age.

“If I didn’t know better,” Sirius said softly, mouth close to Remus’ ear. “I’d say you were checking him out.”

Remus spluttered. “I’m not! I want to know his routine!”

Sirius cracked up. “This is your superstition, isn’t it? Cracking other player’s codes.”

Remus just shrugged, smiling into his cup.

“Have you cracked my code?” Sirius asked in the low voice he used that made Remus not want to be surrounded by people.

Remus looked up at him. “Maybe. It certainly has nothing to do with a piece of toast at five o’clock.”

“My pre-game toast is very important to me.”

Remus leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “No, you just like honey and cinnamon.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’m going to talk to Reyes now.”

“Catch him if he passes out.”

Sirius just glowered over his shoulder as he stalked across the grass. Remus looked around at the back yard, at the team, together again. His team.

[blu-joons]

Very First Anime ~ Yuta Nakamoto

As soon as he walked into the apartment, Yuta’s brows furrowed. The sounds were familiar, but unexpected, and as he walked through into the living room, his guesses were only confirmed by what he saw playing on the TV, with your attention captured too.

“What’s going on?” He instantly asked, making you jump by the sudden sound of his voice. “Do you want me to pass you the remote or something?”

Your head shook back at him, moving your legs so that he could take a seat beside you. “No, I put this on, take a seat, there’s another episode coming on in a minute.”

“Am I dreaming right now?” He chuckled, nervously taking a seat beside you. “Have I missed something or are you really sitting here and willingly watching anime right now?”

Your hand reached across to push gently against his arm, “don’t sound so surprised, I’ve listened to enough episodes in the background when you’ve been watching them before.”

“But I just never realised that you actually paid any attention to them,” he admitted, scratching the top of his head, “I never had anime down as something that you would enjoy.”

To some extent, Yuta was right, anime was far from something that you would enjoy, but you knew it was what he enjoyed. Seeing how happy it made him to watch it always left you feeling as if you were missing out on being able to enjoy it with him.

“It’s something you enjoy, and so I want to try and enjoy it too.”

You’d lost count of the number of anime episodes you’d watched late at night cuddled up besides Yuta, or in the background whilst the two of you prepared dinner. Although you were yet to fully understand what was happening, you couldn’t hide your enjoyment at what you were watching.

His smile slowly grew, allowing himself to relax as he realised what was happening wasn’t a joke. “If anime isn’t your thing, you don’t have to watch it just for me. There’s a reason why I don’t watch those reality shows that you do.”

“I can at least give it a try,” you responded, “it seems to make you happy, so why not me?”

His hand relaxed over your legs as the credits rolled on the episode that had just finished. “Answer me this then, did you have much of an idea of what happened in the episode you just watched?”

“A little, but I’m willing to learn, that’s what’s important, right?”

Yuta’s head instantly nodded back at you, impressed that you were so open to learning about something he adored. By now he’d probably watched almost every anime episode out there, but he was more than willing to watch them again with you.

As the next episode of the series played, you made sure to play a little more attention in order to impress Yuta. Whilst you had a basic understanding of who all of the characters were, you wanted to immerse yourself more in the storylines and understand the appeal to anime.

Despite it being something that you’d ignored for much of your life, you couldn’t ignore how important it was for Yuta. Even if you weren’t going to become anime’s biggest fan overnight, having it as something you shared in common was hugely important for you.

For the most part of the following episode, you were able to track what was going on. There were little moments of confusion, but you were learning, which Yuta admired in you too.

As the credits played once again, his eyes flickered across to you and the soft smile that was on your face. “You’re really serious about getting into anime, aren’t you?” He asked, as your head nodded back at him. “If you’ve got questions about any of this then you can just ask me.”

Your hand once again reached forwards and jabbed his hips, “I know if I ask you any questions then you’ll tease me, so I want to do this for myself. Attack on Titan has been recommended to me a lot, so maybe I’ll try that next.”

“We could watch it together, I love that one,” he cheered.

Your eyebrows raised, silently reminding Yuta of what you’d just said. “I want to watch it and then I can impress you with all of the things that I’ve learnt. I want to pay attention and not have you talk over it like you usually do.”

As disappointed as he was not to be able to watch with you, Yuta understood. This was your thing, and you wanted to learn about the things he loved at your own pace without him getting in the way of it.

“I’m excited to sit down and watch anime with you,” he whispered, “but only when you’re ready. There’s a new programme I’ve been considering starting, maybe I could save it to watch with you when you want to.”

“That would be nice,” you responded, “but are you really sure you can wait that long? I know how impatient you are?”

Too many times you’d had to rush home because a new episode was being released or a trailer being posted online. You could only admire Yuta’s enthusiasm for it all, he was definitely dedicated to it, which you hoped to try and be too.

“I’ll wait, but only because it’s to watch with you.”

“Are you sure? That means no watching clips on YouTube or anything like you usually do.”

Reluctantly his head nodded back at you, although it would be hard for him to do, he was determined to watch it with you. His mind was already thinking about the late evenings cuddled up together on the sofa whilst you watched an episode together.

Similarly, Yuta couldn’t quite express how grateful he was to you for starting to invest in the things that made him happy. Whilst he knew anime wasn’t exactly your cup of tea, you were willing to give it a try, just for him.

You watched on as he leant in towards you, “maybe I’ll start trying to get into a few of those reality shows you like seeing as you’ve tried anime.”

Your eyes widened with a very quick shake of your head, “I’ve not started watching anime to get you to start watching my programmes,” you frantically explained to him, “I know those programmes would completely bore you, and that’s alright. Please, don’t start watching them just because of this Yuta.”

“I want to,” he assured you, pressing a kiss against your cheek, “and at least when we go out with your mates then I might start to have a clue about what you’re all talking about. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to give anime a try, and so the only way I can really show my gratitude is to do the same for you and the things that you enjoy.”

Your head nodded back at him, knowing there was never a chance of arguing with Yuta. “There’s a new series I’ve been wanting to watch anyway, maybe we could watch an episode of anime, and then an episode of mine.”

“That’s a great idea,” Yuta cheered, pulling against you tighter, “plus it means that I have more time to spend with you, so there’s no possible way that I could find any flaw in this plan, it sounds like perfection.”

“You might not be saying that a few episodes into my programme,” you joked.

“And you might say that after watching some anime too.”

“Touché Yuta. Touché.”

---

Masterlist

[watchmegetobsessed]

IN YOUR MEMORIES

a/n: alright so this was inspired by an amazing fic called Graveyard by @wkemeup​ if you haven’t read it... WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??? honestly, i was amazed by the whole idea of having to “pay a price” for a super power and i’ve been really itching to try myself out in this concept, so that’s what this story is. im really excited to share this with you guys so i hope you’ll like it!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: a hell lot of Bucky’s past pain, a little bit of angst aaand idk im really bad with these warnings

word count: 7.6k

masterlist

“I’ve been trying to figure out an effective way to help him, but it’s been more complicated than I expected. None of my ideas were good enough to even attempt them.” Shuri lets out a frustrated sigh as you stare at the peaceful face of the sleeping man in front of you in the cryo pod. The glass in front of his face is frosty, but you can still make his sharp features out, his chiseled jawline under the stubble, the elegant line of his nose and the thick lashes fanning over his cheeks as his eyes are shut closed.

“His whole mind needs to be rewired, his corrupted memories should be replaced or wiped out so the trigger words wouldn’t work any longer, but I can’t do that on my own.”

Tearing your gaze away from the man you look at her, an apologetic expression adorning her features, because she swore you’d find shelter in Wakanda, a place where you can be just like anyone else and yet, she is now asking you to use your power.

“Do you think he would let me help him?” you ask, glancing back at the man. Bucky, as Shuri called him, doesn’t look as old as he was said to be. A hundred and six years is a lot for a human like him, though he is not as mortal as others on the planet. Shuri told you about the experiments he had to endure through his life and even though you haven’t even touched his mind, you could feel the pain inside you.

“He is desperate to get rid of his dark side, I think he would do anything.”

Reaching up your fingers graze the glass over his face before you plant your whole palm onto it, trying to feel him even under the surface and ice. Eyes shutting close, you take a deep breath as you let your senses open up and find your way to the man.

Because of the cryo pod, you don’t feel him the way you usually do. It’s like he is just an echo in a huge empty room, you can’t make out his whole mind, but he is there. And even with him sleeping under the ice, you still can feel the despair and pain he had to go through as an innocent man. You know he deserves to be saved, he deserves to be freed from his own past and you are his only chance as of right now.

“Wake him up,” you simply tell Shuri before turning around to go back to your room that was assigned to you upon your arrival in the palace.

Bucky doesn’t feel like he has been asleep under the ice for more than just a few hours. It felt like a nap, but in reality he woke up months after the day he closed his eyes.

Shuri welcomed him with the news that the cure has been found and it’s time for him to get rid of the Winter Soldier for once and for all. She didn’t say much about the method, just told him to get ready by the afternoon.  He was never one to question the genius young girl so he just obeyed.

After a hot shower he shaved and took the time to get accustomed to the prototype of the vibranium arm Shuri left for him. It’s not the final version, a lot of details need work, but it’s good enough for his everyday life for a while.

The world hasn’t seemed to change since he last saw it. Wakanda is just as flourishing and vibrant as he remembered, a truly spectacular place in his opinion. He wonders how his friends have been, what Steve is doing, if Natasha is alright… Is Tony still fuming after their last encounter? He probably is.

When it’s time, he leaves his room and heads to Shuri’s lab for their meeting. The guards let him in with just a nod, like he is an old friend and he finds Shuri at her computer as always. The girl beams upon seeing him again, complimenting on his freshly shaved look.

“So what did you invent for me, smartpants?” he smiles at her gently. Bucky owes a lot to Shuri and her brother, they took him in when he wasn’t welcomed anywhere else and now she is about to give him his life back. After this, he’ll forever owe her and her family.

“Well, it’s not my invention this time,” she chuckles shaking her head. Bucky is about to question her when the doors open again, both of them turning in the direction just to see you walk in. His eyebrows knit together at the sight of you, not entirely sure what it’s supposed to be. “Mr. Barnes, let me introduce you to Y/N. Y/N, this is Sergeant Barnes.”

You walk closer, Bucky’s icy blue eyes are glued to your form as you stop a few feet away from him, holding out a hand shyly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sergeant James Barnes,” you smile softly as his flesh hand takes yours and shakes it gently.

Bucky is enamored with you instantly. He has never seen someone as delicate, soft and charming as you are, your whole aura just demands his attention and he wants to know everything about you. But he also notices that though you look a lot like any other human on the planet, he is convinced you are not from Earth.

What he doesn’t know is that the moment your hands touch, you can hear his thoughts and you can’t push down your smile at how well he is at inspecting his surroundings.

“Just call me Bucky, please,” he nods before your hands let go of each other and his thoughts quiet down again in your head.

“To answer your suspicion, I’m rorm a planet called Lortena. Life on my planet looks a lot like humans here on Earth, but our lifespan is a little longer and some of us have gifts, as my mother always liked to call them.”

“How did you—“ “How did I know what you thought?” you ask with a small smile, finishing his sentence as he nods in complete awe. “I’m what you might call… a mind reader. But my abilities go a little farther than just reading minds,” you admit and his lips part at the revelation.

Bucky glances over at Shuri, part of him thinking it’s some kind of joke or witchcraft, but the girl smiles back at him with an assuring nod.

“Why don’t we sit down and have a chat? I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” Shuri suggests patting Bucky’s shoulder before the three of you head into her conference room.

Though you’re not touching Bucky, you can sense his confusion and hunger to learn more about you. He is curious about what else you are capable of and though the news about your abilities are still quite odd to him, you can tell that he isn’t trying to shut you out entirely. He just has some reservations for now.

Bucky knows it’s rude to stare, but he can’t stop himself from inspecting you. Knowing that you are not from this planet is already enough for him to get his mind racing, especially because you look just like any other humans on Earth. But the little trick you did on him was enough of a convincing for him to believe that you are from somewhere else.

The three of you sit to the table and Shuri takes the lead to start the conversation.

“While you were asleep, Sergeant, life went on and we had a lot going on,” she smiles, her eyes falling on you. “Y/N is a refugee from her planet, Lortena. There’s a war going on there and she was sent away because she was a primary target. She wasn’t supposed to end up here, but there was a little mishap during her journey and landed in Wakanda.”

“Are you targeted because of your… powers?” Bucky asks, hoping he is not asking anything offensive.

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s because I’m the king’s daughter.”

“Oh!” he breathes out.

Great, so she is not only a breathtakingly beautiful creature with superpowers, but she is royal as well, he thinks to himself.

“And how… where do your… powers come from? Is that a usual thing on your planet?”

“Not quite,” you chuckle softly.

You give a glance at Shuri who nods and brings up a hologram of Loki’s scepter with the mind stone in it. Bucky is already familiar with them, but he is curiously listening to find out what it has to do with you.

“Long before the mind stone was trapped into the scepter, it was in our possession. We used it as out main power source, kept locked away from preying eyes and hands. We all knew it’s capable of more than what we use it for, but we didn’t want to risk it and use it for the wrong purposes.”

The hologram changes and now the mind stone is on display on its own.

“But not everyone agreed with that. A couple hundred years ago there was a war for the stone. Though our people sacrificed everything to protect it, they didn’t succeed entirely. Unfortunately, the attackers didn’t know how great the stone’s power is. In the midst of the chaos, there was an explosion caused by the stone. Almost everyone present was killed, only seven survived and they were blessed with different powers coming from the stone.”

Bucky’s lips part as his eyes flicker over to you from the stone in the middle of the table, while you are staring at the hologram remembering back the stories your parents told you growing up. He feels like he is being shared with an ancient legend, a piece of history that is a privilege to know.

“The powers they were gifted with were held at great heights after the war was over. And while some of them could pass it on to their children, some couldn’t. The seven became four, then just two and there was one left. My grandmother. When my father didn’t show any signs of the stone’s power it was believed the magic was gone forever, but then I was born and…”

“And you had the powers,” Bucky chimes in, completely in awe of your origin story. You nod with a shy smile as the hologram of the stone disappears in the middle of the table.

“Yes.”

“And why is there a war on your planet right now?”

“Because though it’s been a miracle that I inherited my grandmother’s powers, the people want to get the stone back and have more of its powers. Unfortunately, the stone was lost through the years and I was informed that Thanos got a hold of it some time ago,” you explain, turning to Shuri for assurance about the accuracy of your words and she nods. “Who then gave it to Loki and now it’s in the scepter. People were demanding my father to start a war for the stone to get it back to Lortena, but he refused to sacrifice his army to get the stone back from a titan.” Sighing you lean back in your seat as you think about your home, your family that was left behind when your father sent you away because he was afraid the rebels would use you to get to him.

“The stone is not at Thanos’ any longer,” Bucky speaks up and your eyes find him as you snap out of your thoughts.

“I was informed of that as well. It’s um… it’s Vision’s now, right?” They both nod. “Well, the rebels think it’s Thanos’ and you better hope it stays that way. Because if they figure out that the titan doesn’t have it any longer, they won’t hesitate to attack you for the stone.”

Bucky’s jaw clenches at the thought of another war to take part in, but also because you had to go through such terrible events because of other’s greediness.

“I’ve been trying to find a solution to help you since you’ve gone to sleep, but I wasn’t able to come up with any,” Shuri speaks up. “But then Y/N arrived and I think she could be the one to do the job.”

“You think you can do that?” Bucky asks, eyebrows pulled together. “What else can you do, other than reading minds?”

You feel hesitant revealing the depths you’re able to reach with your abilities and you’re afraid he would find it too invading after everything he has been through. You want to help him but he has to let you. Though you’re powerful, if someone resists your attempts, the outcome won’t be the same as if they cooperated.

“If you let me… I can change your memories. I can make them appear differently in your head so what they did to you won’t have an effect on you any longer.”

Bucky’s jaw twitches. He has no idea what he was expecting, but not this for sure. Letting another person get into his head, play with his mind like it’s just a toy, it’s something he vowed not to let anyone do it again. But as he stares back at you, he can tell the difference between you and the monsters who ruined his head before. He is at a safe place and everyone here wants what’s good for him.

“It only works if you let me do it,” you add and notice how he presses his lips together into a thin line.

“I would do anything to get rid of him. So… I’m in,” he nods at last and you let out a relieved sigh.

You’ve never tried to corrupt so much of someone’s memories before and you’re not sure how long it will take to complete the task so you requested to start the next day, giving you some time to get ready physically and mentally and of course, for Bucky to get himself ready for his mind to yet again get taken apart by someone else.

Not having much to really do since your arrival other than helping Shuri out occasionally at the lab or giving assistance for T’Challa around the palace, you’ve been able to explore your temporary home in the heart of Wakanda.

There is a hidden terrace near your room, one that’s not well-known even by the people living in the palace and you like the peace and calm whenever you are out there, surrounded by flowers and plants in hand-painted pots, some of them were made by yourself, watching over the breathtaking view of Wakanda in front of you, the sky turning from bright blue to shades of orange, pink, purple and eventually black as the Sun goes down behind the hills.

Tonight, this is where you are seeking peace again, sorting your thoughts out about what you’ll have to face tomorrow. Your power has a lot of benefits but it has its curses as well. You’ve only attempted to do something similar before and you had to learn the hard way what price you have to pay for having control over someone else’s mind, thoughts and memories.

Your brother was tragically killed in an uprising when he was only seventeen and you were ten. It was the result of a series of unfortunate event, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time, no one could help him. Your mother broke under the pain of losing her own child and you listened to her cries every and each night for months before you decided that you needed to help her. She didn’t want to let you even try, afraid it might take too much of you to help her, but you insisted and she eventually gave in. You altered her memories and feelings about your brother’s death, only left her with the ones that bring her joy and happiness, but your gesture demanded a price you weren’t ready to pay.

Upon your own grief for your brother, you had to bear your mother’s as well, the pain of two people clutching your heart and mind in return for your mother’s happiness. You never told her how you cried yourself to sleep every night for an entire year, how you could barely control your dark flashbacks and the constant darkness that was pulling you down. No one knew what you had to go through just to see your mother smile again and you made sure it stayed that way. However, you didn’t dare to do it again, not entirely sure if you could handle the pain one more time.

You surprised yourself when you offered your help to Bucky. You don’t even know him, yet you are willing to take his pain and make it yours just so he can live a somewhat normal life. Though his memories and nightmares won’t torture you as long as they would have did with him, you’ll still have to fight his demons and he won’t even know it. Then why are you doing this?

You have no answer to that. Seeing him for the first time you just had a feeling that you have to do it, that he is worthy of it all and that you want to be the person to free him.

The glass door opens behind you as you’re watching the Sun disappear on the horizon and you’re surprised to see Bucky walk out to the terrace, stopping in his tracks once he notices you sitting on one of the wooden chairs.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be here,” he mumbles, his gaze snapping down at the floor.

“That’s what I thought too,” you chuckle.

“I’ll leave you—“ he starts, ready to leave, but you stop him.

“You don’t have to. Feel free to join,” you tell him, gesturing towards the other chair. His hesitation is clear at first, but then he closes the door behind him and sits beside you.

Bucky watches the sunset in awe, but he can’t shake his curiosity towards you, having to control himself not to stare at you as he tries to figure you out. You’re not the only one who doesn’t understand why you’re doing this major gesture for him, he’s spent the afternoon trying to find any alternative motives that might explain your willingness to help him. He couldn’t find any and it left him with even more puzzles in his tortured head.

“What is it like on your planet?” he finds himself asking, breaking the long silence between the two of you.

“It’s not too different than here,” you admit truthfully. “Though our technology is a little more advanced,” you add with a soft chuckle. “In a way I’m happy I ended up here, because Wakanda reminds me of my home.”

“You miss it, don’t you? Your home?”

“Who doesn’t?” you ask with a soft smile and Bucky nods. He misses his home too, but in his case, it’s not a place but a time, decades ago, when he was his true self instead of the monster Hydra forced him to become.

“I’m sure it’ll be nice to return once the war is over,” he hums to himself and he expects a warm and positive reaction from you, however all he sees is pain and sadness in your eyes. “What is it?”

You hesitate to share it with him, staring back at him you think about keeping your thoughts to yourself, but how could you expect him to let you get into his head if you don’t share your thoughts with him willingly?

“Bucky, I don’t think I’ll ever return to my planet,” you breathe out as your gaze moves back to the scenery in front of you, the burning disk of the sun already hidden behind the hills.

“What do you mean?”

“The ship I came with can’t be fixed and they don’t know that I ended up here. It would take them too long to find me here and that’s if… If my family will be alive by then. I have no idea what’s happening there right now, if the rebels are winning or my father is able to keep things under control. I see very little likelihood of my return.”

Bucky’s heart aches for you, knowing well the pain you feel, he finds it ironic how the both of you are stuck so far away from your homes, seeking shelter at the same place at the same time.

He thinks it’s fate.

“What’s your favorite memory from your home?” he asks and you turn to him with soft and shining eyes. He is expecting you to tell him about it, but instead you decide to show it.

Grabbing his hand that’s closer to you, you bring it up to your face and make him cup the side of your head, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone as you close your eyes and recall the memory, planting into his head as well, taking him back, like the two of you could travel time and space just that easily.

Bucky can barely believe what he is experiencing but he finds himself inside your memory and it all seems so real, as if it was happening in the moment. He is standing in the middle of a meadow filled with luscious, green grass and some kind of flowers, whites and purples and yellows dancing in the soft breeze. At first he thinks he is alone, he doesn’t see you anywhere around him and then he spots a woman in a long, light pink dress, her hair waving behind her in the gentle summer breeze and then he spots a little girl running behind her.

Bucky walks closer to the woman, but she doesn’t acknowledge his presence, she doesn’t even look his way and when he reaches out to touch her arm, his hand goes right through her figure, as if she was just a ghost.

The little girl finally catches up with the woman, a handful of flowers in her hands and when looks up Bucky realizes that it’s you as a child. Your main features can still be found behind the round cheeks and pouty lips.

“Mom! I picked these for you!” your younger self beams, holding the little bouquet of flowers up to your mother, who takes it with a bright smile.

“So beautiful, my love!” she hums, sniffing the flowers as you giggle at her. “But why don’t we use them for something?”

“For what?” you ask with a curious look and Bucky can’t help the smile on his face. It’s such a pure and joyful memory, he almost wishes it was his.

Your mother sits down in the grass, her skirt fanning over her in a circle as she pulls you down to her lap with your back facing her before she combs her fingers gently through your hair and starts braiding it, sticking the little flowers into the braid as she moves down. You start singing some kind of song, one Bucky doesn’t know, and your mother smiles brightly at your chiming voice. She braids with so much care and precision, at the end it looks perfect and very much princess-like with the flowers littering around.

“There. Now you are a bouquet of flowers yourself, my love” she smiles at you, kissing your cheek before letting you out of her arms, watching you dance around in your dress, singing to yourself without a care in the world.

Bucky wants to stay there, more than anything and see more of your younger version and your mother, but he is abruptly pulled back into reality when you pull his hand back from your face and the connection stops. His eyes snap open and they find yours, so enamored and in awe of what he just experienced, he feels like he was let in on a secret no one else knows in the world.

“Wow. That was… amazing,” he breathes out as his hand drops back to his lap while you just smile back at him shyly. “Is that… Is that what it’s gonna be like when you…?”

“Not quite,” you shake your head. “You won’t feel anything, you’ll just have to think back to all the memories you want to be changed or wiped. I’ll be the one stuck in your memories like you were in mine. And from inside, I’ll be able to change them.”

“Will I know later which ones were altered or they won’t be different at all?”

“There’ll be… a kind of shine to them when you’ll think of them after that. It’s gonna be the only tell that they were touched by me. But I won’t change anything you don’t give your consent to.”

Bucky nods, having answered his biggest concerns about tomorrow. Now he feels like he trusts you completely and you’ll be the first person he can open his mind up to without a worry.

No matter how much you tried to get yourself ready for what you’d see in Bucky’s head, nothing could have prepared to the pain and darkness he had to endure during his oddly long human life. All the torture, the blood, the hurt and fear of death, it all comes down crashing on you even after the first session you have with him.

It breaks your heart that such a sweet soul had to go through Hell innocently and now he has to live with everything he was forced to do against his will. You can only hope that the people who did this to him have gotten their rightful punishment.

The first time the two of you sit down to start his treatment you get stuck in his head for hours, going through memories and altering them to take away anything that is connected to the trigger words. You witness the time he was captured and the first time he was sat into the chair that broke him. You can’t help the tears rolling down your face as you use all your power to change the memory and leave him with just a faded picture of his cell and held captive. Bucky asked you not to wipe them entirely, leave him with reminders of what made you be the way he is today and that’s exactly what you do.

When you finally come back you almost faint from exhaustion, Shuri catches you right in time before you could fall off the chair in front of Bucky’s who is equally dizzy, but he still manages to reach out and grab your hand to help you steady yourself. You feel drained and almost tortured, Bucky’s memories imprinting into your own head and you already know they will haunt you for quite some time. Not as long as your mother’s grief did, you were just a child back then and you couldn’t control your power that well, but even though you’ve learned to use your abilities, it will still take a couple of months for you to get rid of the horrors you saw in Bucky’s head.

Bucky sees how broken you look after just the first session and he doesn’t want to believe you’ll be strong enough to finish what you started.

“It’s fine,” you assure him when he asks you again in the evening if you surely want to continue. “I just have to rest and we can go on,” you tell him, giving his arm a squeeze before returning to your room.

That night, you wake from a burning nightmare with a scream, gripping onto the sheets with terror running through your veins. In your dream, you were the one strapped to that chair, going through all the pain Bucky had to bear decades ago. It was vivid and torturous and you know it’s going to return.

But you’re determined to finish the work and you do it over and over again, every day for the next couple of weeks. You go through all of Bucky’s darkest memories, altering and changing them until there’s nothing left from the Winter Soldier in him, just some faint and blurry pictures of him being held by his captors. You take all the pain and let it sink its claws into your own head, clouding your mind with darkness.

Bucky can feel the change in himself instantly after the first time you get into his head and a few days later he sleeps through the night for the first time in forever, oblivious to the fact that not far away from his room, you are fighting his demons every night so he can have his peace.

He is always the one to help you back into your room after an exhausting session and he wakes you up with breakfast in the mornings, always making your favorite. You tell him it’s not necessary, but he insists that this is the least he can do for everything you are doing for him, and he doesn’t even know the worst things you endure for his happiness.

He is always the one to request days off from the treatment, not for himself, but for you. He sees how trying it is and though you would never ask for time off, you don’t have to, because Bucky does it for you. Every third or fourth day he tells you he needs some time to heal and get used to his new mindset, but he just wants you to rest and recharge and though you know it too, you appreciate the gesture.

Some days he asks you to join him for walks just to get you out of the palace and you gladly say yes, desperately needing something to bring the light back into your life and it doesn’t take long to realize that Bucky is that light that can ease the heaviness of the pain you are fighting.

You love seeing his smile as the first thing in the morning, you love how he squeezes your hands every time before you dive into his head and how insists to carrying you to your room even when you’re perfectly capable of walking on your own. You love how chivalrous he is always, something Shuri told you was more common in the times he was born and you adore it that it’s a piece of his past self still present after everything he’s been through.

Bucky is the only one who can pull you out of the dark hole you’ve been stuck in and you promised yourself that you’ll never tell him the price you had to pay for his happiness, because he deserves every ounce of it and you wouldn’t want anything to cloud over it, not even your misery.

It takes five entire weeks to go through everything that turned him into the Winter Soldier and then the day to test if it has worked finally comes. Shuri has made sure to have a capsule ready for the test, one that would keep him under control in case you didn’t succeed and he would be triggered by the words he already knows too well.

“Are you sure I won’t hurt anyone?” Bucky asked cautiously as he was strapped into the capsule, a good majority of the Dora Milaje guarding the lab as well in case the test goes wrong, but both you and Shuri are optimistic about it.

“Calm down, Sergeant. We can handle you,” Shuri jokes before finishing up. “Alright, I’m gonna close this now, but you’ll be able to hear us and we’ll hear you as well,” she informs him and he just nods as she closes the capsule, securing him inside.

You sit on the side, but still close enough to see his face in the capsule. His icy blue stare finds yours and you give him a soft, encouraging smile. You do believe he won’t be triggered and not just because of what you did, but because he has a strong will and if there’s still any part of the Winter Soldier in him, he’ll be able to come over it.

“Okay, ready for the words?” Shuri asks him and breathing out he nods, closing his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

“Желание,” comes the first word through a speaker and you hold your breath as you stare at his face through the capsule.

“Ржавый. Семнадцать,” the words carry on and you see him squeeze his eyes a little, fear taking over you that he might break, but it never happens. “Рассвет. Печь. Девять. Добросердечный…”

The trigger words ends and your lips part when his eyes open, noticing the tears in them as he finally realizes that he didn’t turn. The Winter Soldier is finally gone.

“Congratulations, Sergeant. You’re free,” Shuri announces as she opens the capsule and lets him out, sobs shaking from his chest before he is freed from the straps and able to step out of the capsule.

He is quick to rush over to you and wrap you in his embrace, both of you sobbing and crying and you hold onto him tight, as if he was just a memory that could vanish any moment, but he is there, flesh and metal, the Bucky you know and adore so much.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he keeps repeating as his vibranium fingers tangle into your hair at the back of your head.

It’s been over a week of freedom for Bucky and he hasn’t felt better in his life, well, not in this decade. Without the sessions, he now has quite some free time on his hands that he prefers to spend with you, actually.

The two of you have been joined at the hips since his recovery and not just because Bucky feels like he owes his life to you, but because you both can’t help falling for the other in the light of your newly found friendship that’s starting to slowly turn into more.

Bucky hasn’t been shy about showing his adoration and gratitude towards you, not after you’ve seen the darkest side of him and could still look at him the same way. He feels like he has bared his entire soul to you and you accepted it gladly, so there’s no need to beat around the bushes.

However you’ve been still trying to keep him away from the secret you’re hiding. He can’t find out about the nightmares, the screams and the tears you shed every night when his demons come for you. You can’t let him get close enough to see the price you paid for his own happiness. But even with all the cautions you’ve been keeping, you still can’t stop fate from finding its way.

One night Bucky is staying up late, binge watching a series Shuri has recommended for him. He didn’t intend to stay up so late, but before he could realize how fast the time has passed, it was already past two in the morning.

Shutting the laptop down he decides to get himself some water before finally going to sleep. Padding his way down the dark and quiet hallways in only a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, he unintentionally takes the route that goes past your room. He didn’t plan on dropping by, knowing you’re probably asleep by now, just wanted to feel that sense of closeness even in the middle of the night, but his original plans immediately change when he hears your deafening scream coming from the other side of the door.

His blood freezes in his veins and he is quick to turn into combat mode, ready to fight whatever is threatening your life, but as he pushes his way into your room he doesn’t find any intruder, it’s just you, curled up on your bed and even under the thick layer of covers, he can see how badly you’re shaking, your beautiful face churned into a painful frown as you keep your eyes shut.

He immediately realizes that you’re having a nightmare.

He rushes over to the bed and sits to the edge, the mattress dipping underneath his weight as he carefully places a hand to your trembling shoulder.

“Y/N! Y/N, wake up!” he softly shakes you, trying to get you back to consciousness, but you keep tossing and whimpering, a thin layer of sweat covering your skin.

“No, no, please! I’m not the Winter Soldier!” you cry out and Bucky freezes, his jaw clenching at your words, an eerie feeling running down his spine.

“Y/N, it’s just a dream, wake up!” he tries again and your eyes finally shoot open.

Though you’ve woken up, you don’t instantly see what’s really happening around you and you are quick to flinch away from Bucky, pushing yourself to the far end of the bed as you stare back at him with fearful, wide eyes.

“It’s just me. It’s alright, it’s me, Bucky,” he softly reminds you holding his hands up so you can see them. Your chest is heaving and your hands are gripping the sheets so tight, your knuckles are turning white.

“Bucky,” you breathe out and he nods.

“Yeah, it’s me. You had a bad dream, I heard you scream.”

Letting out a shaky breath you close your eyes and try to shake the vivid images that haunted you tonight out of your head, with not much success. Tonight you were beaten up in a cold and dark cell, the man kept telling you that you’re just a monster, a soulless nobody as he kept hitting you before he reached for a weapon that sent electricity through your body until it was too numb to move at your will.

You know it was one of his memories, because you’ve seen this scene before in his head and you remembered it clearly. Only that last time you saw it happen to him and now you were the victim.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, loosening your muscles as you gain your contact back with reality.

“What was the nightmare about?” he quietly asks and your gaze snaps up to meet his. You can’t read his icy blue eyes and for a moment you think about touching him so you could hear his thoughts, but you promised yourself you would never use your powers on him.

“Just… some nonsense stuff,” you lie shaking your head.

“Didn’t sound like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you beg to someone, telling them that you’re not the Winter Soldier.”

His face hardens as he inspects you while you try your best to hide anything that would tell him more about what you’ve been keeping from him.

“I don’t… I don’t remember it,” you shrug, scooting closer to him as you fix your pillows.

“Y/N, I don’t need superpowers to know that you’re lying,” he retorts and you almost flinch at his words. “Are you having nightmares because of what you saw… in my head?”

For a split second you think about lying. You think about telling him that it’s just because of what you saw and not tell him the real reason of your nightmares, but guilt has been already eating you away for not telling him and you wouldn’t be able to lie straight into his face. So you shake your head and your eyes meet his icy gaze again.

“I’m having… your nightmares.”

He looks confused, eyebrows knitted together as he is tasting your words, not entirely sure about what you meant by them, so you go into the details you’ve been keeping hidden from him.

“I can’t just take memories away and turn them into nothing, Bucky. Memories can only vanish if they get forgotten with time,” you start explaining, hoping you can paint the picture as realistic as possible. “When I changed your memories, I took parts away and… made them mine. And now I have to be the one to fight and forget them, but it happens faster for me than it would have happened to you,” you quickly add, as if it could make it any better.

“Why didn’t you tell me this is the cost of my recovery?” he snaps, clearly mad at you and he has every right, but you just wanted to save him. “I would have never let you do it if it meant you’d be the one to suffer for me, Y/N!”

“I had the chance to help you, I wanted to give you the freedom you deserve!” Tears are stinging your eyes as you stare at his harsh expression, the soft and joyful Bucky you’ve seen these past weeks is now gone.

“But it’s not worth it if you are being tortured by my memories now!”

“It was worth to me!” you snap back, a tear rolling down you cheek. “I might have been selfish for keeping you the details of what it would take to free you, but now you are the one who is being selfish, because you wouldn’t have let me help you if you knew and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you! I chose to do it and I knew what I was getting myself into and I knew what it’s gonna cost.” More and more tears run down your heated cheeks, soaking your skin before they drop to your shirt or the sheets covering your lower half. Bucky stares back at you in disbelief as you reason about why you did it exactly. “You deserved this second chance and I was your only chance. If I didn’t do it for you, I would have had to live with the guilt forever that I let an innocent man suffer. It’s a small price for the happiness I was able to give you.”

Bucky is in total shock. He has had Steve do selfless shit for him plenty of times, hell, he wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him, but what you did is just above everything that’s been ever done for him and he is having a hard time accepting that anyone would put up with so much pain and suffering for him willingly. He can’t decide if he wants to scream and shout at you for being so stupid or if he wants to fall to his knees and glorify your name till the end of times.

When you realize that he won’t snap at you again, you carefully scoot closer until you can reach out and touch his face, but you don’t even try to read his thoughts. Not this time. You let his thoughts wrapped in the darkness of the unknown. Bucky melts against your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a few moments.

“You shouldn’t have done this, Y/N.”

“But I did,” you breathe out with a bitter chuckle. “And it can’t be undone, so you better accept it.”

He cracks a tiny smile, but it quickly vanishes as a thought pops into his head.

“If you have the memories that made me into the Winter Soldier, how come you don’t get triggered by the words?”

“I might own your memories now, but there’s a natural bond with the original owner that can’t be taken. It’s what makes them so vivid and real for you, but it will never be as real to me. The trigger words have no power over me, because the memories are not mine, I don’t have the bond with them.”

“But you still have the nightmares. My nightmares,” he breathes out, a hint of disappointment ringing through his tone, though you’re not sure if it’s because of what you did or because he couldn’t stop you from it.

“They will go away,” you assure him, but you can tell that his guilt is eating him away. “Bucky, I’ll be fine. A few weeks, at max a month and they will be gone. I promise you.”

“You don’t deserve this,” he mumbles under his breath as his hand reaches for yours, squeezing it gently before he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles softly. “You don’t deserve any of it.”

“But you deserve happiness,” you reply with a chaste smile that makes his heart flutter in his chest. “Let me give it to you. You’ve had enough pain, Bucky. I’ll take the rest now.”

Bucky stares back at you for a long second before he decides to do whatever he can to make sure you get through it as easily as possible. Pulling the covers back he slides under them, lying down next to you as he pulls you into his embrace.

“Go back to sleep and if you’ll have another nightmare, I’ll be here to wake you up from it and get your mind off of it. You’re safe with me,” he murmurs, as you lay your head to his hard chest, his flesh arm curling around your frame while his vibranium fingers lace together with yours on his stomach. You don’t try to protest against him, you know he won’t leave and quite frankly, you don’t want him to. Knowing that if you go back to the darkness again he’ll be here to pull you out relaxes you, doesn’t let you worry about what kind of horrific scene you are going to be forced to see when you close your eyes next. You melt against him, inhaling his scent, listening to his steady heartbeat under your head as you let yourself go back to sleep, for the first time, ready to face whatever is waiting for you on the other side.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[whoacanada]

‘Wishful Thinking‘

Summary: Every NHL champion gets a single brush with ice magic. When Jack takes his first cup with the Falconers, he accidentally undoes the wish that brought him back from the brink of death in 2009, and Bitty becomes hell-bent on lifting the cup himself for a chance to set things right.

A/N: Finally posting some concepts I’ve played around with that aren’t 100% complete massive fics, but still pretty solid, just little things that might be enjoyed. Yet another cup-wish-gone-wrong-au with monkey-paw components. Also inspired by discord convos about canon!Jack meeting an older, veteran NHL!Bitty and having a lot of feelings. Also mentor/father-in-law!Bob trying to help Bitty navigate the NHL. There’s more to this floating around but this is the meat of it

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Bob can sense when it happens. A shift of something monumental that he’s only felt on a handful of occasions his entire life. A quick glance across the ice finds a number of the celebrating Falconers looking around curiously, unsure of the sensation; for so many, it’s their first brush with ice magic. A pleasant novelty. The vets, though, they look to each other.

Bob turns and doesn’t have to look far to find his son, one hand clasped around the cup, the other around Eric Bittle’s waist, smiling from ear to ear. Something about the moment is wrong, but Bob can’t quite determine why as he’s overcome with a wave of nausea. The stadium lights are too bright and he blinks hard, face scrunching, trying to force whatever wrongness he’s feeling out of himself.

Someone’s made a wish.

The moment passes. Bob’s vision clears. There, veiled in a shower of blue and gold confetti, is Eric; alone at center ice, face twisted in confusion as he looks around for the man who only moments earlier had been in his arms.

“You take the cup, you get one real wish,” the decades old, bourbon-lacquered voice of his first coach reminds him. “But only the one. Can be something small, like an empty cab in the rain, or it can be something big. World changing, even. The one thing, the most important thing — ”

“No,” Bob breathes. “Please, no.”

“— You never use your wish on another player.”

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They don’t know exactly what Jack wished for, but the next time Bitty’s blades touch the ice, it’s as if he’s stepped into the body of a new man. No more slurs. No more targeted chirps. He’s just one of the boys.

He plays. He wins. Then, the offers start to come.

NHL teams looking for fast wingers, team players, leadership material; not one of them mentions diversity, or Eric’s status as the first out NCAA hockey captain. No one cares. No one remembers Jack, and no one cares about Eric.

The best and worst case scenarios rolled into one. If this is the reality Jack unknowingly traded his existence for, Bitty has no choice but to walk through the door his partner opened.

Bitty swallows, trying to force the words out on one of his now nightly calls with the man who would have been his father-in-law in another world, if the shared connection between them hadn’t been interred in a Montréal cemetery almost a decade prior.

“I think . . . I think he wished for acceptance.”

___________

___________

___________

“No one remembers anymore.”

Eric scuffs his skate against this ice, building up a small pile of shavings before scattering them again, focusing on the soft white as if somehow he’ll be able to transport himself bodily to somewhere cool and quiet. Jackson Hole. Banff. Tremblant. Anywhere but here. Anywhen but now.

“Saw Tater last week at a press junket. Blank stares all around. Some days, most days, I wake up and I don’t know how I got here. I can go without thinking of him.”

Weeks. Eric doesn’t say aloud. Months. Those hideous mornings when he wakes up beside a warm body and forgets they aren’t him. They aren’t supposed to be him. Was there ever even a him.

Jack. Eric mouths silently, just to remind himself. His name is Jack.

The details always slip. The universe constantly trying to correct the fallacy of Eric Bittle remembering a man who died before they technically ever met. Faded photographs and corrupted memory cards. Selfies that used to have two people in frame. Vlog posts with cosmic ADR, swapping Jack’s name for someone else’s like a hastily rewritten script. Eventually, even Eric’s memories turn traitor. First times lost to reshoots and post-production magic. Blue eyes are brown. Black hair is blonde. Jack becomes Phillip. Eric’s first love recast. In desperation, he pulls a page from Memento, finds a tattoo parlor and has ‘Jack Laurent Zimmermann’ inked in dark, unmistakable letters on his inner thigh. Adds a cup, the Falconers’ crest, and the date they lost everything. It works well enough until the name fades; there are still days where a hook up will ask why Eric has a championship tattoo for a team he never played with.

Now, all he has is Bob.

“That’s why I’m here.” Bob reminds. “That’s why we talk.”

“But what happens if we don’t.”

Bob’s familiar assurances rumble through the phone. Constant. Refusing to acknowledge the harsh realities of the passing of time. The ever-present doomsday clock moving them both toward disaster — Bob aging, Eric aging out. He’s good, but he isn’t great, and the only offers coming his way are single-season contracts with teams that haven’t sniffed a championship in years. One day very soon, there will be no more chances for Eric to undo what’s been done. No more favors to ask of teammates that have long since forgotten a world where Jack Zimmermann was a college graduate and a rookie MVP. Not just an addict. Not just dead at nineteen.

Eric listens to Bob ramble, asks him to tell him a story, to tell him about the Jack that Eric never really got to know. The Jack he can barely remember. A man that Eric has dedicated his entire life to honoring, to bringing back — from where he cannot fathom — and Bob obliges in a soft tone Eric imagines is not dissimilar from how he must have spoken to his son as a child.

Eric ignores his teammates rushing around him — tossing chirps and gentle insults about his ‘Sugar Daddy’ — and focuses on the accented voice in his ear; grasping desperately at the memory of a man who doesn’t exist. Pretending. Hoping.

__________

__________

Across the ice, Eric sees Kent Parson watching him. When they lock eyes, the aging star glides toward him, under a guise of one amicable captain greeting another. He’s pushing 37, and while the years of competitive play are starting to show, he’s just as viciously handsome as the day they first met. At least, Eric thinks he is. He can’t imagine a life where Kent Parson strolled onto a college campus and played beer pong at a frat party, but there’s a folder of old photos on Eric’s computer. Jack is in none of them, but there’s one of himself and Kent. Smiling.

Eric can’t recall why the image bothers him so much.

Parson used his wish years ago on something that he’s never bothered to share — and Eric’s far too much a gentleman to ask a man who was once a rival what he wasted his golden ticket on — but now, he’s slowing down, and this is supposed to be his farewell season. Going out with a bang, riding the high of his fifth cup win. He’s worked hard, and he deserves to shove the Penguins back down into obscurity for another season. Deserves it far more than Eric, with his selfish, single-mindedness that’s ruined god knows how many careers in the last decade between his own ruthlessness and Bob’s meddling.

Except. . . this is also likely Eric’s last season. His last chance to undo the great tragedy of his life, and Parson knows it.

“How you feeling, Peaches? You ready?”

Eric hates the nickname in the same way he hates when his father calls him ‘Champ’.

Eric fights his own shame because he wants to be honest, say, ‘No, I’m not ready, I’ll never be ready,’ but Eric can’t ask for what he wants, anymore. He wants the Aces to balk on a power play. He wants Parson to flub a pass and throw the game —  he even knows the man would probably do it, too — but Eric needs to come by a win honestly. They learned the hard way in 2022 when Eric hands were wrapped around the cup, wishing, praying, crying, pleading . . .

Clear eyes, full hearts, or some such bullshit.

Cheaters don’t get wishes.

“I can’t remember, anymore,” Eric admits as they square up across the face-off circle, the resigned terror of an inescapable end creeping upon him like the burn of an old injury ignored for far too long. “Kent. Please.” Parson leans down, rests his stick against the ice, and holds Eric’s gaze as if to say, I’m here. Trust me. Just play.

The puck drops.

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There’s someone watching him, young, handsome with dark hair and the kind of bright blue eyes that scream ‘notice me’ with all of the biological bluntness of neon plumage and a mating dance. The man weaves through the crowd, unnoticed by Eric’s teammates, and comes close enough that Eric can’t help but assume familiarity. He must be a fan, the way he’s flushed and excitable.

Eric’s drunk enough on the moment that he’s happy to indulge his baser instincts. He also literally can’t remember the last time he brought company home and if there’s ever been a night to get laid, it’s this one.

“Crisse, look at you, Bits.”

The man is caught between being awestruck and simply struck, reaching out to touch Eric’s arm but not quite making contact, like his depth perception is the tiniest bit off. He drops Eric’s old nickname so easily, so earnestly, that for a moment Eric thinks they might already know each other — but that’s impossible. Eric would remember someone so handsome, so very much his type.

“Only my friends call me ‘Bitty’.” Eric cautions, raising his half-empty champagne bottle in a mock toast and flashing his best ‘you’re coming home with me tonight’ smile. “But I’m more than happy to to get acquainted with you, Sugar.”

Eric isn’t usually this forward, this unrestrained. Tonight, it doesn’t matter, he’s celebrating: another championship, the end of a career, a life well lived. It’s to be expected. What isn’t expected is how the man’s relieved smile falters; as if Eric’s unbridled joy is somehow misplaced.

“Bitty? It’s me.”

“And ‘me’ is called . . . ?”

On very few occasions in Eric’s life has he been able to witness true devastation first-hand; and those instances were related to deaths, hockey losses, or blackout morning afters.

“Jack.” The man says softly, face slack with surprise. “It’s. . . Jack. Bitty, you know me.”

“If we’ve met before, I’m sorry,” Eric apologizes, hating to see the kid look so defeated. “I meet so many people — ”

Over Jack’s shoulder, Eric catches sight of Bob Zimmermann and waves, delighting in the way Bob’s face lights up when he catches sight of Eric, practically going supernova when he notices Jack as well, crossing the ice like a man possessed; Bob moves to pull them both into a hug but Eric’s new friend holds up a defensive hand and Bob stops mid-gesture.

It’s extremely apparent something is off, and between the reporters, the confetti, the champagne, and the fans, Eric is missing all of the context clues.

“Just won my last cup,” Eric singsongs, gesturing with the bottle between his mentor and the man Eric would very much like to fuck — who look very similar now that Eric can see them side by side. “Everyone’s super excited, right? Yeah? So, what’s going on. Did someone die?”

“No.” Bob says quickly, eyes flicking between Jack and Eric warily. “No. Not . . . that.”

“Severely injured?”

“. . . Non.”

“Okay, then, we should be celebrating!” Eric throws his arms wide and nearly clocks a passing teammate. “No more party pooping, Bobbert. Speaking, this is my new friend, Jack. Jack, Bob, Bob, Jack. Though, I’m getting the feeling you two might know each other. Or might be . . . related.” Eric gasps and smacks his free palm against his forehead. “Oh my god, the Tremblant retreat? Is that where I know you from? Listen, I was fucked up on pain meds that whole weekend, I am so sorry if we’ve already met.”

Despite Eric’s continued attempts at clarifying their shared mystery past, Jack keeps looking at Bob with that same wounded expression and it’s really killing Eric’s buzz.

“Bob.” Eric redirects. “Help me, here. Cutie’s nervous.”

“Eric, this is my, ah, well,” Bob’s smile is so forced, so tense, it looks more like a grimace. “Well, this is my son, Jack.”

There is only one ‘Jack’ Eric has ever known in relation to Bob Zimmermann, and he is not someone to be mentioned in polite conversation.

“Your son?” Eric echoes slowly. “Your son, Jack.”

Bob realizes what Eric’s tiptoeing around and casts a furtive glance toward the younger man, lifting two fingers to his cheek conspiratorially to imply ‘it’s a long story, not meant for public ears’. Eric knows how to play along.

“Wow, okay, did not expect that, but now that you’re saying it, I can one-hundred-percent tell. You have the same, well, everything.”

Eric takes Jack’s hand for an obligatory shake, not missing the way Jack’s features twist up into something caught between flattery and misery, before staring down his pseudo-mentor.

“My question is this, where have you’ve been hiding him — because how long have I know you, Bobby? Shame.”

“I’ve been . . . away.”

Jack’s tone is weighted with context Eric absolutely does not possess, but can definitely read into. Given the age difference and Alicia’s conspicuous lack of attendance this evening, Jack’s definitely a love child from some 90s Zimmergroupie. Or, original Jack didn’t actually OD and Bob spirited away his kid to keep away the prying eyes of the public; but that wouldn’t explain the age difference or the shared name.

Oh, Bobbert.

“Couldn’t wheel him out too soon,” Bob jokes, but Eric can tell the man’s heart isn’t in it, reinforcing Eric’s suspicion.

“Well, I’m happy you did,” Eric says graciously, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “He’s very handsome, when he isn’t doing this Eeyore impression.”

“Just like his father,” Bob says reflexively —  defensively —  as Jack goes pink. “Eric, will you excuse us for a moment? Back in five minutes, tops.”

Eric offers a gracious wave, gaze lingering on Jack’s retreating back — and backside, bless — watching Bob rest a firm hand on his son’s neck, gripping tightly to lean in and furiously whisper something. As Eric watches, Jack looks back over his shoulder; it’s not the fond glance of a potential paramour. Regret, maybe? Grief, definitely.

He must be as disappointed to be cock-blocked by his father as Eric is.

Across the ice, Kent Parson has rushed Jack, gathering him into a crushing embrace that the younger man returns easily —  burying his face against Parson’s pads; pulling back only when Parson grabs Jack’s shoulders to push him away, taking a long look at him, holding his face between his hands briefly before pulling Jack back into his arms.

They don’t just look like old friends, it’s a reunion of desperation, like the videos his mother sends of soldiers coming home from war, but before Eric can think better of it, a teammate fists a hand in the collar of Eric’s sweater and pulls — away from Bob’s forlorn love child and forgotten first meetings — and the night goes on.  

Bob doesn’t return. Neither does Jack.

Eric doesn’t even notice.

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[fanficimagery]

Misery Business pt. II

Imagine moving in with the Molina's after an incident back home. Instead of being angry, you realize this is your second chance to be truly happy and you really hope it goes better than your first attempt.

You can find PART ONE right HERE.

Words: 5.3K Author’s Note: Requested by anonymous who asked for a sequel where Jerry finds out that Y/N met her soulmate. So here ‘ya go! I tried writing angst, but I just.. don’t know how? I hope you still enjoy this though. Also there might be some slight violence in case that’s triggering for anyone.

You've spent months with Luke now and every day with him so far has been absolutely mind blowing. Being with him is exactly like every textbook out there said what having a soulmate is like and you couldn't be happier. But of course not every day was a good day. Fortunately for you though, you and Luke were two people who didn't like being at odds with one another, so more often than not your issues were resolved within hours.

Everything in your and Luke's life seemed to be going smoothly, but after the novelty of finding his soulmate wore off it seemed like Luke's parents were pressuring him to do something with his life other than music. They thought it was a great hobby for him to have, but not something worth pursuing as his main source of income. You could see every little argument wearing on him, and you and your family did your best to cheer him up.

Eventually one of the arguments was bound to take things too far, so you weren't surprised when Luke showed up one night with tears in his eyes and his hands gripping tight to his backpack straps. Tía Rose and tío Ray were kind enough to let Luke stay the night, and you even persuaded them to let him share your bed with promises that there'd be no funny business- you just wanted to be there for him. You weren't surprised that he fell asleep so soon after showering and changing into pajamas, but you were surprised to receive a call just passed one in the morning from his mother.

Having crept out of bed, you walk downstairs to the kitchen to take the call. Mrs. Patterson is very apologetic for calling so late, but she's extremely worried about Luke's whereabouts. You ease her fears by admitting that Luke is with you and then mention that since Spring Break was about to start, that maybe it was best for Luke to stay with you for a little bit. When she remains quiet, you apologize for overstepping but go on to explain that seeing Luke so torn up after every argument with her was very disheartening. You just wanted your soulmate to be carefree again, even if it was only for a week. And then after hearing her sniffle, you feel like you really messed up, but Mrs. Patterson calls you a good soulmate and that she'd drop off a bag of Luke's clothes in the morning.

Then going back up to your room, you crawl back into bed and chuckle when Luke rolls over to pull you in so your back is against his chest. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you allow yourself to relax and fall asleep in your soulmate's arms.

You're not one to keep secrets from Luke, so come morning you tell him about the phone call you had with his mom. He seemed a little apprehensive when he heard she had called, but quickly relaxed when you went on to tell him that you got her to agree to let him stay there in the Molina household.

"You think Rose and Ray will go for it?"

"Yes." You smile at him, swiping his hair out of his eyes. "They adore you like you're one of their own. Plus it helps they know you've been having issues with your parents, so they'll think it's a good idea you take a breather from them as well."

"Okay. But only if they're good with it."

"They will be."

And sure enough, when the two of you head down to breakfast, tía Rose and tío Ray are all for Luke staying after the latest blowout.

In fact, with the start of Spring Break, you find it hilarious that Alex and Reggie spend as little time as possible at their own homes. Carlos is ecstatic to have the boys to roughhouse with, tía Rose loves having extra hands around the house to help with the yard work, and Julie adores having her band with her so they have all the time in the world to write and have jam sessions.

It's during one of those jam sessions Julie gets you to sing, but you only agreed to it because Luke was determined to duet with you. You picked All Time Low's Remembering Sunday where Luke sang about ninety-nine percent of the song and you came in at the end for about twenty seconds worth of singing, but you put your all into it and stunned your friends. You hadn't known your cousin was recording videos of the session, so you were a little surprised when she told you.

"So remember the other day we were vibing out in the studio, and you and Luke killed it singing Remembering Sunday?"

"Um, yeah."

"Well I might have posted a video or two-"

"Julie!"

"-and it's gone viral."

"What!?"

"I'm sorry! I posted it on my page, Flynn reposted it on the band's page, and well it kind of took off from there." Julie cringes. "Apparently the fans really liked it."

"Ugh." You groan. She chuckles nervously and you eventually sigh when you see she feels really bad about your reaction. "Well I guess it's fine," you say and she starts to slowly relax. You don't know exactly what to say, so you say the first thing that pops into your mind. "So how many think I'm trying to break up the band?"

Julie snorts. "Only a handful. No more than twenty people that we've seen so far. We've told the fans you weren't breaking up the band or joining it, but that you and Luke were soulmates and you were just having fun with us. Some don't believe it."

You shake your head, grinning softly. "People are dumb, but whatevs. Everyone who matters knows the truth and that's enough for me."

With Spring Break coming to a close, it's decided you're going to have a bonfire on the beach the Saturday before returning back to school. You know it's going to be a long night, so you and few others head to the store to stock up on snacks and drinks.

You, Alex, Julie, and tía Rose were the only ones mature enough to tackle the task of shopping, so the four of you piled into the car and left before Reggie could crawl his way into the very back without anyone knowing.

Between the four of you, loading the car with the groceries after shopping was an easy task, but apparently one individual didn't get that memo and figured you needed some help.

A bag that tía Rose picks up unfortunately tears and the cans inside go rolling. She curses in Spanish, which makes you and Julie giggle, but then an all too familiar voice freezes the blood in veins. "Oh no worries, ma'am. I got this."

Julie snorts as her mom giggles, Alex swears softly under his breath, and you're too terrified to look and see one of your fears come to life. But the second your tía starts making small talk, you can't help but look up. You immediately pale. It's Jerry. The same Jerry whose dark hair was tied into a small bun at the back of his head, who wore a distressed band tee, ripped jeans, and dark boots. The same Jerry whose smug little grin once made your heart flutter, but now only makes you feel sick to your stomach.

"Y/N," Alex steps in your line of sight when you can't seem to stop staring. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine." You can feel yourself sway on your feet and the moment all the groceries are in the back, you start towards Julie and her mom. "Tía, it's time to go." You grab at her wrist and start pulling her towards the driver's seat.

"Mija, don't be rude." You spare her a brief glance and she frowns at your expression. "What's wrong?

"Nothing. I just- I don't feel so well. Can we please go?"

"Y/N?" His voice makes your skin crawl and you jerk out of reach when you feel a hand touch your shoulder. "Is that really you? Wow! It's been too long."

His smarmy smile makes your stomach churn, but you have to keep it together. "Not long enough," you retort.

You know your family and Alex are looking at you like you've grown a second head, but tía Rose's expression hardens the moment Jerry chuckles. "I like the feistiness. It suits you."

"I'm sure it does."

Once Rose realizes the tension between you, she calls out for everyone to get in the car so you can head on home. Everyone opens up their respective door, but they're still standing outside the car when Jerry says, "It was nice to see you again, Y/N. I'm sure we'll see one another again real soon."

You scoff. "Don't count on it."

Marching over to your door, you open it up and drop into your seat. The others follow quickly after. You buckle up, your right knee bouncing anxiously as you continuously glance out the window. The car rides are usually loud and filled with off-key singing, but now the music can barely be heard and no one knows how to break the silence.

Finally, not able to take the silence or the stares you can practically feel burning into the side and back of your head any longer, you say, "That guy back there? That was Jerry."

A beat passes and then Julie sharply inhales. "Your ex? The one who pretended-"

"Yep!" You cut her off, breath stuttering as you try to inhale. "Ever since I moved he's been trying to contact me, but I blocked him on everything I could. Why did he- how did he find me?" You ask, voice shaky.

"Oh mija," Rose softly exhales. You turn your head to look at her and she shakes her head. "This isn't okay."

"I know."

"I think you need to talk to the police, especially since he followed you across states."

"Y-Yeah. Okay."

You feel a hand grab your shoulder and you flinch, but you quickly reach up to grab ahold of it. The small, too smooth hand lets you know it's Julie. "I'll call dad and tell him to meet us there."

Rose tells her that's a good idea and then Alex is saying, "Should I tell Luke? This feels like something he'll get pissed at me for, for not telling him."

"Of course," you say, "but tell him I'll call him after. He doesn't need to come down to the police department as well."

It doesn't take Ray long to get to the police department, and when he does he and Rose escort you inside while Julie and Alex stay outside. The female officer who takes your statement is quite appalled to hear that someone would fake soulmate words and is clearly upset to learn that he followed you across state lines, even after you did everything to conceal your location. She completely understands why you're so unsettled, but unfortunately there's not much they can do unless Jerry were to physically harm you or your family. She does, however, file the statement for future reference in case anything involving Jerry were to pop up in the future and it makes you feel a little bit better to know it's all on file.

Once you're free to go, Julie immediately throws herself into your arms when you're back outside. She's sobbing and it takes you a moment to understand what she's saying. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I was just thinking while you were gone and I think he found you because of me- because of the video I posted of you and Luke."

"Jules, no. It's not your fault."

"But it is! If that mega creep stalked my page, some of my posts have the locations tagged."

Oh. So yeah, maybe that is how he found you. You can see everyone else realize the sudden realization you came to as well, but you don't want to make your cousin feel any worse. "Don't even worry about it. You are not responsible for his actions. Okay? This is all on him."

"But-"

"I don't want to hear it," you cut her off, squeezing her just a little bit tighter. "I just want to put this day behind me, go home and put the groceries away, and cuddle with Luke while we brainstorm for our bonfire tomorrow night."

Julie pulls free from the hug, frowning. "You still want to go through with the bonfire after what happened today?"

"Duh." You smile gently at her. "We've been planning this for weeks. I'm not going to let Jerry's sudden appearance ruin our fun."

Julie looks like she's going to argue, but Ray is immediately by her side and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Mija, it's going to be okay. Y/N has all of you on her side and should anything happen we've got the card of the very nice officer who took our statement. It's going to be fine."

When Julie's calmed down, it's time to head home. Alex goes with Ray so he can be dropped off, but Julie goes with you and her mom. The drive is once again silent, but you don't mind it this time around. Though when you pull up to the house, you can't help but sigh at the sight of Luke pacing back and forth on the front porch.

Tía Rose chuckles as she parks. "Go," she tells you. "Julie and I can get the groceries. Go calm your soulmate."

You smile thankfully at her and do as you're told. Then as you're walking up the sidewalk, Luke hops off the porch and makes a beeline for you. He immediately wraps you up in his arms and you don't mind how tight he squeezes you.

"Lets go to the studio," you tell him.

Luke doesn't even bother arguing, he grabbing your hand as soon as he frees you from the hug to pull you towards the studio out back. Then upon entering the studio, Luke shuts the door behind you and drags you over to the couch. "What happened?"

You shrug. "Jerry found me. I don't know how he came across any video I was in, but we think he saw the video of me and you singing. Julie thinks he went through her page and took a chance by going to the location that was tagged in some of her posts."

"Bro, that's so messed up."

"You're telling me," you huff. "Julie feels terrible, but I don't blame her so.."

"Nah. It's not her fault. This dude is seriously screwed in the head." You nod, quietly agreeing. Sighing, you pull your legs up and curl them beside you, and lean into Luke's side. "So what did the police do?"

"Nothing. They can file a report about him following me, but they can't actually do anything unless he physically harms someone." Luke softly swears. "I'm actually kind of scared," you then admit. "I don't know why he's obsessed with me, but he knows I found my real soulmate. What if he does try to do something?"

"I'll kick his goddamn ass if I have to." You quietly chuckle, but Luke presses on. "I'm serious, Y/N. You are my soulmate. I will protect you until my dying breath. That jackass ain't gonna lay a finger on you."

"Have I ever told you how hot I find you when you get angry?"

He chuckles softly. "What?"

"Yeah. So hot," you muse. You glance up at him, lips twitching as you can clearly see how he's torn between finding amusement in your words and reprimanding you to be serious. "I can handle Jerry. Somewhat," you then softly admit. "Please don't do anything that will put you in handcuffs."

He sighs. "No promises."

"Whatever. I'll take what I can get."

Luke finally smiles and he quickly presses a kiss to your forehead. "Have I ever told you how adorable it is to see you going soft for me?"

"Fuck off, Patterson. Now lets go help sort the groceries so we can go pick out our spot on the beach for tomorrow night."

Luke laughs as you stand and tug him up so he can follow you out.

Rose and Ray are a little hesitant to let you leave the following night, but after many reassurances they seem to realize that they're worrying for nothing. Willie shows up in a van and everyone cheers as they readily load up the back, Luke adding in two acoustic guitars for himself and Reggie. Alex automatically claims a seat in the front with Willie and Reggie beats everyone else in rock, paper, scissors to claim the other seat. So you, Luke, Julie, and Flynn sit in the back and try not to fall into each other with Willie's not so excellent driving skills.

You and Alex take on the responsibility of getting the fire going while everyone else situates the coolers of your food and drinks, and rearranges the chairs and blankets. It seems other kids had the same idea as you all because further down there are several other bonfires ready to be lit and every other face seems to be someone from Los Feliz High.

Once the fire is going and the music is just loud enough to be heard by everyone around your fire, Alex and Willie claim the blanket in the sand. You and Luke obviously sit next to one another, and Julie, Flynn, and Reggie stick together to mock the soulmates should anyone get a little too into displaying their affections.

It's a little too cool to take a dip in the water, so everyone makes do by burying Reggie in the sand or dancing around for some laughs. In between food and drinks, there are lip sync battles and originals sung by Julie, Luke, Reggie, and Alex, and it's the most perfect night. Pictures and video are taken, and everyone second guesses posting them, but you wave them off with the excuse that the damage has already been done.

A little after ten, Carrie saunters over and her appearance is enough to make the laughs taper off. You and Luke had stolen the blanket from Alex and Willie, and you were laying down with your head in Luke's lap so you were too comfortable to greet her by sitting up. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Carrie says, "I knew every girl was just getting their hopes up. You and Luke are obviously still infatuated with one another."

As her words sink in, everyone immediately glances at you and Luke, and you frown at her. "What?"

She rolls her eyes. "There's some guy looking around for you. He's been telling everyone that you're his girl and he was supposed to meet you here."

There's a moment of silence and then, "Carrie, did this guy tell you what his name was?" Your heart stops and you immediately sit up in preparation for her answer.

"He probably did, but I didn't hear it over Alicia and Kaitlin squealing about Luke being single again."

Reggie snorts and you can hear Alex quietly reprimand his friend. "Did he have a man-bun, lots of bracelets on one wrist, skinny jeans, and combat boots?"

Whatever your expression is currently showing as you ask her, it throws Carrie off and you see her own haughty attitude diminish just the slightest. "Yeah. What's going on, Y/N?"

You sharply inhale and then Luke is immediately on his feet, draping an arm around your shoulders. "Come on. We should leave."

"No." Your tone startles him, and even Carrie, but then you look at Luke while softening your voice. "No. I'm not going to run away. He doesn't get to ruin my time with the people I love." A moment passes and then Luke nods, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. You smile softly up at him before turning to look back at Carrie. "Be honest with me, Wilson. How much does everyone know about why I moved here?"

She shrugs. "By your second day here everyone knew you left your home because some asshole pretended to be your soulmate and like totally stalked you or something." No one says anything and you raise your eyebrows at her, willing her to connect the dots. Her eyes slightly widen as she realizes what you're silently telling her. "It's him, isn't it? The guy asking around about you."

You gulp. "His name is Jerry. I know we're not exactly friends, but do me a favor?" At her silence, you take it as a yes. "Spread the word. No one is to answer his questions and no girl goes off on their own. He's not a good person."

"Of course." She takes out her phone, ready to start sending off text after text. You sigh a little in relief, knowing that everyone will soon know a creep is hanging around. When Carrie glances back up at you, she frowns a little. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was him."

"Don't even worry about it. I didn't exactly tell anyone his name or showed a picture."

Carrie gives you a terse nod before she's straightening up, haughty expression back in place. As soon she takes her leave, everyone is suddenly on their feet surrounding you and Luke.

"What the hell?" Alex mutters. "This is so messed up."

"Am I gonna have to fight?" Flynn asks. "Because I am prepared to go to jail. Someone's just gonna have to bail me out."

Julie frowns. "I don't know about this, guys. I don't have a good feeling. Maybe we should go home."

"Are you kidding me?" Reggie scoffs. "There's one of him and seven of us. We'll be fine."

Willie glances between everyone, shrugging. "I'm down with whatever. If you guys wanna leave, we'll leave. If not, we'll stay."

Luke glances down at you. "What do you say, babe? Stay or go?"

"We stay. Now will everyone lighten up? We only got a couple of hours before beach patrol shuts us down."

Reggie whoops and you can't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. Julie walks up to you then, still looking uneasy. "Are you sure about this? No one will think less of you for wanting to leave."

You flash her a small smile. "I'm not going to let him scare me off. And besides, it's like Reggie said. There's more of us than him. We'll be fine."

Only it wasn't fine. Not really. Because not even half an hour later the ex in question finally finds you.

Alex is the first to notice him, his laughter ceasing immediately as his expression hardens. Willie asks him what's wrong and upon following his line of sight he realizes what's going on. Then slowly but surely, everyone's fun nature disappears as they stand.

Jerry chuckles when you finally meet his gaze. "Told you see we'd see each other again real soon."

You sigh, your hand slipping into Luke's as you see him take a step forward out of the corner of your eye. "What do you want?"

"To catch up," Jerry muses. "You left so quickly and didn't tell me where you were going."

"For obvious reasons, you moron."

"Yeah. Read the room, dude. You're not wanted here," Flynn huffs as she steps up on your other side.

Jerry glances at her and his stare leaves you feeling uncomfortable. So to grab his attention once more, you say, "Go home. I have nothing to say to you."

"Aw," he coos, "but I miss you."

"Well she doesn't miss you." Luke's words draw Jerry's attention and you can see his jaw clench in the firelight.

"Ah, yes. The soulmate," he muses. "Tell me, soulmate, does she purr for you like she did for me?"

Your eyes widen just as there are several sharp inhales behind you and you immediately cling onto Luke's arm. "Luke, no!" Alex is on the other side of Luke, pushing his friend back and when it seems like he's got it under control you let go of his arm and step between him and Jerry. Glaring at his smug expression, you say, "No, Jerry, I don't purr with him like I did with you." He chuckles lowly. "Because unlike you, Luke knows how to get me off which is something you never knew how to do. Not even once."

"Oh fuck. She just murdered him," Flynn giggles.

Jerry's smug expression vanishes the moment everyone starts to giggle and before anyone can blink he's swinging his arm so the back of his hand connects with your cheek.

"You motherfucker!"

You go stumbling and it's only because of Julie and Flynn that you don't fall. When you manage to regain your footing, you locate the boys only to find that Willie and Luke are doing their best to whale on Jerry while Alex and Reggie look on, unsure about stopping the fight or not. Willie lets Luke throw most of the punches, though when Jerry lands one on Luke he's quick to reach in and make sure Jerry doesn't overcome his friend.

"Flynn, call the police department. Ask for Officer Diaz and tell her my name. Tell her Jerry's found me and he attacked me."

"Okay."

"Julie," you then turn towards your little cousin. "Call your mom and dad. They need to be here."

"Okay."

Stumbling towards the boys, you shout, "Stop. Guys, stop!" Alex is quick to come to your side, tucking you under his arm. "Luke!" You then yell.

With his hand fisted in a completely dazed Jerry's shirt, he stops mid-swing and glances at you. "Please stop. Flynn is calling the cops. You can stop now."

He's got a split lip and his body is still taut with anger, but upon seeing your expression he's quick to let Jerry go. Jerry stumbles as he regains his stability, but then Willie is there to make sure he goes nowhere.

As Luke stops right in front of you, he gently cups your face in his hands and his anguished expression makes your heart break. "He hit you."

"I know," you frown, "and he's going to pay for it."

You close your eyes as Luke presses his lips to your forehead, his lips lingering there as he mumbles apology after apology.

"How cute," Jerry chuckles darkly.

"Laugh it up now, asshole," Flynn says. "The cops are on the way."

You and Luke separate just as Jerry spits out a glob of blood, sneering at Luke. "You might have her now, Lukie boy, but how does it feel to know I had her first?"

Luke tries to lunge, but Alex is quick to catch him. Instead you stumble forward, gaze never leaving Jerry's. "Don't look so smug, Jer. You're the pretend soulmate who only had me for not even a fraction of your lifetime. But Luke? Luke gets me over and over and over for the rest of his life." Jerry's expression falters, but before he can think to hit you again it's you who forms a fist and hits him square between the eyes.

"Fuck," he grits out, stumbling into Willie.

"FUCK!" You shout, pain instantly blossoming in your hand. Not even shaking it out helps.

"Hey. Hey, let me see."

"Don't touch it!" You scream at Luke.

He chuckles as he gently grabs a hold of your wrist, running his fingers softly over your knuckles. "I think you might have broken it."

"Worth it."

Jerry tries to struggle some more in order to get away, but Willie and Reggie do a good job of keeping him in place. And if they had failed, he wouldn't have gotten far because Nick and his band of jocks had appeared out of the dark after being led over by Carrie.

Rose and Ray appear first, Ray immediately getting the story from the boys while Rose fusses over you and your bruised face. Then the second red and blue lights start flashing, the crowd disperses and leaves your original group alone with Jerry.

Immediately Jerry tries to spin the tale that your boys jumped him, but fortunately for you Officer Diaz and her partner are the ones taking your statement. They grab yours first and upon seeing your face they take a picture of it to put on file. You ask them about what's going to happen to Luke and Willie for defending you when Jerry attacked, and they unfortunately tell you that they might actually be taken in since they threw the first punch against him.

After a few more statements are taken, Luke and Willie are surprisingly let go with a warning. Turns out Luke hadn't thrown the first punch, he just pushed Jerry away from you, and Jerry went on the attack first. Luke's assault was categorized as self defense and Willie smartly kept his knuckles hidden while mentioning he was only standing by trying to separate the brawling boys. Officiate Diaz and her partner obviously knew it was a load of shit, but they wanted to get Jerry off the streets more than they wanted to arrest Willie for defending his friend.

Then once Jerry is taken away, Ray suggests you all call it a night. He helps put the fire out while Rose helps everyone else load up Willie's van, and then they mention they'll meet you at home. On the way there, Luke calls his parents to let them know what happened and that he'd be back home the following evening in time for school. You can hear his mom express her concern for you and her hopes that you feel better soon, and then she goes on to tell him that she loves him and that she's sorry for their argument. Luke chokes up while he's on the phone, but thankfully everyone else attempts to make small talk to give him a semblance of privacy.

Willie drops off you, Luke, and Julie first, and you apologize for ruining the night.

"Are you kidding me?" Reggie scoffs. "Tonight was wicked fun! You're lucky you already found your soulmate because that punch was hot."

Luke chuckles. "You're an idiot, Reg."

You glance at Willie and he beams at you. "Don't even sweat it. Tonight was totally fun, brawl included. I just hope the charges stick and that jerk doesn't bother you anymore."

"You and me both," you muse. "Now go on. Get out of here and let Alex kiss your knuckles all better."

Alex groans as his soulmate laughs, and the three of you wave at the van as it disappears down the road.

Then as you're walking up the sidewalk leading to the porch, Julie says, "I love you guys, but can we please never get into a public altercation ever again?"

You laugh as you swat at her, only to hiss in pain when you hit her with your injured hand. "Goddamn it that hurt. I think the adrenaline finally faded," you say as you cradle your hand to your chest.

Luke wraps his arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. "We'll have Rose check it out and if she thinks you need a doctor, we'll head down to the ER."

"I'm gonna need a cast, I just know it," you mumble.

As the three of you come to a stop on the porch, Julie turns towards you and says, "Maybe next time you'll think about throwing a punch before you actually know how to throw a punch. You're not supposed to tuck your thumb in."

"Yeah? Well maybe you should let me practice on your face!"

"Okay!" Luke laughs, pulling you a step back from a now laughing Julie. "A Y/N in pain is a mean Y/N. Duly noted."

You glare at Julie a little longer before your façade cracks and then you whine as you lean into Luke once more. "Will you hold my hand in the ER?"

"Sure thing, babe. Ready to have Ray and Rose yell at us before they realize your hand might be broken and need medical attention?"

"Nope, but we gotta go inside sometime."

"Together?"

"Together."

"Ugh," Julie scoffs. "You guys are too adorable for your own good."

[saphirered]

The Lovers

Spoilers for Campaign 2 Ep141

Man oh man oh man. I've had this one written since the day after the last episode but I've been soooooo hesitant to post it at all 🙈. Anyway... I'm just gonna regardless because it's just sitting there staring at me to either delete or post it 🤭. I hope you enjoy because I'm still so conflicted about his piece of writing 😅. Unless people actually like it I might just end up deleting it after all.

---

Jester had asked you to come along on another journey of the Nein Heroez. She needed your expertise for something but couldn’t get across what for within the twenty-five word limit. Regardless, the opportunity to see and travel with your friends is not one you’re just going to pass on so of course you happily made your way to Nicodranas. Maybe the ocean would do you some good. It’s been a while after all.

In the first few days of your journey Jester had been keeping a close eye on you, watching your responses and reactions. Specifically your reactions to any and all interactions with a certain lavender tiefling. When she was certain your responses to the tiefling in question were not in any way negative and cordial if not friendly you found yourself being paired with him more often than not. Watch, hoisting the sails or dropping them, food shifts and even at the helm a few times.

You caught an argument between Fjord and Jester a few weeks later. Fjord was defending you and telling Jester she couldn’t just play matchmaker after everything that had happened between the previous inhabiter of Kingsley’s body and you and how it might still be a painful subject of not once but twice being faced with someone that’s not the person you loved and lost.

Jester seeing reason in Fjord’s arguments put aside the love story she’d been trying to unfold with you and the poor tiefling as her main characters. The shifts you shared with Kingsley came to a close and would be no more often than any shifts shared with anyone else on the crew.

One day the Nein Heroez made port to stock up on some supplies after being hit by a storm and running short on food. The crew was given some downtime to enjoy the many pleasures port has to offer but you decided to stay back at the ship. You asked Jester for the cards.

You’re sitting crosslegged on the docks watching the sunset as the crew leaves in groups bidding you goodbye while they go. Once the majority of them have left you take out the cards and begin laying them in certain patterns starting with simple ‘yes/no’s onto the past present future and more complicated readings. You’re not paying attention to any particular results but instead study the drawings fondly.

“You’d call me a sentimental fool.” You snicker as the fool card is revealed in front of you.

“Sentimental? Yes. A fool? I’ve yet to decide.” You turn around at the familiar voice seeing the tails of the black sleeveless coat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing around. You pick up the cards and put them back in their order stacking them.

“Oh really? You’d think a few weeks of being not so inconspicuously paired together on any task possible would give you enough time to form an opinion on that?” You tease beginning a new read.

“Maybe that makes me the fool then.” You can almost hear the smirk in his words.

“Care to find out?” You put down card by card face down. You know how to push for certain results. A trick you’d picked up from your former lover. It feels right to use it against him in a strange twisted way like this. Not really him but close enough.

Kingsley sits down to the side, not trusting you to not push him off the docks if he were to make an offensive (in jest of course) remark. Gathering the cards back up you start over. Time for a bit of fun. You push for the first card setting it down face up in front of him.

“The owl and the bear. Some might say the most deadly combination when put together. Be watchful of the owl’s words or you might find yourself at the ends of the bear’s claws.”

“So it was a good idea to sit on this side and avoid meeting my waterlogged demise.”

“Are you doubting my capabilities, Kingsley?” You smirk and watch the tiefling gulp. You move on to the next card making a show of pulling it from the deck and displaying it.

“Look at that! What did I say. The fool has appeared. The cards have spoken. my fool.” You take a bow as if addressing the most pretentious royalty around limited only by your crosslegged position on the docks. Kingsley can’t help but let out a chuckle at your theatrics.

“The cards have spoken indeed! A fool I must be.” He plays along. You begin picking up the two cards and restack the deck.

“Hey hey hey, isn’t there supposed to be three cards for this one? Not two?” You stop. He’s not wrong technically. You raise an eyebrow at him, fan out the cards and allow him to pull one from the deck as per the variant of this reading, putting the fate in the hands of the drawer. Not really of course. Usually you’d still be able to push for a card for them to draw but for this one you’d leave it up to the divines. You’ve had your fun.

And fun it was until Kingsley kept the card for himself, studying it closely. You were curious to see which one he pulled but you hadn’t exactly paid attention to that like you’d otherwise done. You wait for him to either give it back or tell you what it is but he takes a long time.

“So what is it?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. It still takes a good few seconds before he lowers the card so you can see it too.

“Oh.” Is all you manage to vocalise upon seeing the card. The Lovers. The familiar drawing of a lavender tiefling looking at another figure arm outstretched and love in their eyes. The image of the tiefling reaches for the outstretched hand of the other figure; your figure. You’re staring back at your own face and the expression Mollymauk had claimed to have plenty of visual references for to know he could properly draw you but would always ask for one more just to remind him.

“I’m so sorry.” Kingsley hands the card back to you and you keep staring at it. He stays for a little bit to make sure you’re alright as you’re hit with a whirlwind of emotions. Once he’s sure you’re alright he begins to get up.

“I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening. Someone’s gotta make sure these fools drink just enough and start a brawl or two.” You snap out of it putting the card back into the deck.

“Kingsley. It’s alright. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” The whirlwind subsides and you return back to a peaceful state of mind. You offer the tiefling a kind smile and he halts himself sitting back down still somewhat tense. He opens his mouth to say something but is quick to close it again. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you as you shuffle the cards absentmindedly. You catch onto the conflict and hesitation in Kingsley’s features.

“If there’s something you wish to say please do say it.”

“When you said you loved him… I think it never registered it was anything other than the love the others held for him. Strongly yes but I always assumed it was akin to Yasha’s. Why didn’t you say anything?” Kingsley states piecing things together watching you closely.

“It’s not a burden for you to bear.” You pull the Lovers card back up to the top and study it closely.

“I might not know much but I don’t think being faced with your dead lover’s body inhabited by someone not him doesn’t bother anyone. That’s just cruel.”

“It doesn’t bother me. Not anymore. I’ve grieved Molly when he died. I grieved him again when Lucien returned. I’ve gone through it all and accepted he’s not coming back and that’s okay. Everything comes to an end at some point. I don’t think it’s cruelty. I think everything is as it should be.” You speak honestly stroking your thumb over the card.

“I have so many questions.” Kingsley states. You get it. He woke up one day, recovering from death not knowing who he is or was before that moment beyond emotions and flashes of a past that didn’t feel like his. That’s exactly why you wanted to spare him another previous relation to figure out. Yes it might make things slightly more difficult for you but that’s not his fault. That’s no one’s fault.

“And I believe Beau gave you her notebook so you can read back about your predecessors. But you’re not ready for that yet, are you? That’s okay. Don’t read it until you feel ready.” Kingsley’s head shoots up to look at you. Why do you understand him? Maybe you’re wiser than he gives you credit for but he thinks you’re already pretty wise.

“Expectations. Everyone expected something of me but I didn’t live up to it. I’m not who he used to be and that disappoints people. But from you, you never expected anything from me. Why?” He’s piecing it together bit by bit. You never slipped up. Never asked him to put on a coat that wasn’t his or asked him if he remembered something. You never even asked him if he recalled anything about you or sought to involve yourself in his life without his permission.

“It’s unfair to expect someone to be or become someone they’re not and never will be. You get to be your own person free of the constraints of the past.” The answer is simple. There’s no deceit or doubt. No hidden message or intent behind it.

“How is it you of all people can say that without pain or regret or wishing it were different?” You turn the card back around and put it back in the deck in its place and put the cards away. You take a second before answering trying to formulate a proper answer as Kingsley waits studying every micro expression.

“Bear with me for this one.” You start and he nods. “Lucien was born lonely forced to fend for himself and make friends out of the need to survive. Molly rose from a grave alone and scared. He was taken in by friends but he had to find a home his home with them. He found that home and got kindness and love. You awoke surrounded by friends, no family you didn’t even know but would still love you regardless. No matter what, you’d always have a home with them. You’d be neither alone nor lonely unless you choose to be.” You explain and take breath before you continue.

“You plant random seeds in the ground it’s very unlikely you’re going to receive the same flower twice. The only similarity they have is that they are seeds and will grow as long as they have the right foundations to do so. When I look upon you I see Kingsley Tealeaf, a man that became a sailor after we brought him back from the Astral Sea. There may be similarities, your roots may even be the same but you are not the same. You are separate.”

Kingsley takes in your words very carefully with a sense of understanding and something with in him he couldn't quite pinpoint until now. Acceptance and content. Whatever might have been holding him back before, he’ll have to come to terms with that. That’s the past and if the past comes searching for him one day, so be it. Until then, Kingsley Tealeaf has a life of his own to live and to enjoy. Enjoy all life has to offer, to its fullest and don’t hold back.

Let the sailor become captain of his own ship knowing he has a home and a family that will welcome him with open arms to return to. Let the eight be nine despite the expectations of others. Be free and be happy. Live content.

[thefanficmonster]

My Kind

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warning: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having been chosen by the gang to be a guest streamer on today’s stream of Among Us, it’s safe to say Y/N’s super excited but also a bit nervous. The whole of her anxiety gets lifted off her when she meets someone with the exact same vibe as hers - yeah you guessed it.

Requested by @monizzle96 Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is! I hope you come across it and read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

This has to be the fiftieth time I’ve checked my setup in the past twenty four hours. But no, I’m definitely not nervous, what are you talking about. Pshhh. Nah, being nervous isn’t in my brand. Plus, what do I have to make me nervous - a group of famous streamers inviting me onto their stream to play Among Us with them because they enjoyed my own streams? Ok yeah, that’s a pretty good reason. Not gonna lie, I almost chucked my phone out of excitement when I received that DM from Toast, telling me they’d picked me to be their guest streamer for today’s date. My stomach was doing somersaults for a good forty-eight hours following that text and then the anxiety slowly started setting in fueled by the expectations they probably have of me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not inexperienced in the streaming field, I’ve been a streamer longer than some of the members of Toast’s streamer gang actually. But I never managed to garner that big of a following which I’m honestly quite ok with. I have a modest - ok, maybe larger than modest - following consisting of incredibly loyal fans which I will never stop being grateful for. They are all so respectable of me, my privacy and my boundaries. They know the main rules: no shit-talking in the chat or in any of my comment sections, no bashing other YouTubers in my comments/chat, and most definitely not asking for a face reveal. Fun fact: I didn’t even set up that last rule, they all just collectively know not to ask for it. 

I’ve been keeping my brand pretty low-key to avoid garnering some unwanted attention - some of which I’ve already experienced on certain social media platforms following the full body pictures I posted on there - face not visible of course. I tend to also have my webcam on, facing towards my hands working away on the keyboard sometimes when I stream. I don’t know why people obsess over faceless content creators’ hands, but I appreciate the enthusiasm - it also drives me to do a manicure every now and then which ain’t so bad, self-care and all that you know.

Now, back to the subject of my ridiculous nervousness.

You see, it has layers.

I’m nervous of ‘preforming’ underwhelmingly and I’m nervous of what my own fans will think of the person I will become during this stream. They know me as a super chill and laid-back person, which I am by the way, but they might think I’m putting on a show if I exhibit any nervous gestures/vocabulary. I highly doubt they would, but the possibility is not letting my mind rest. And now that it’s about ten minutes till the stream starts, I’m getting doing my best to calm my nerves.

They are all just people. You know they are super chill too. Just be yourself, that’s why they invited you, because you are yourself on all your streams. They liked you for your personality, humor, maybe even your gaming skills. So chill the hell out and be yourself, damn it!

Easier thought than put into action that’s for sure.

I start my stream five minutes early just so I can vibe with my viewers for a little while before I have to meet the gang. My fans always have a way of injecting me with confidence, they remind me of where I was when I started and how far I’ve come. How much I achieved when I thought I’d be nothing and no one, someone the algorithm would simply overlook. But then they entered my life and I entered theirs and it all became much better than I ever thought it would get to be. I rarely tell myself ‘good job’ for the milestones I’ve reached or the hard work I’ve put into my content, but that’s probably cause I orient myself based on that quote from the movie Whiplash: ‘There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job’ - simply put, I’m never satisfied with what I do and I always strive to do better. My fans, however, make sure I don’t go overboard with it - always serving as a reminder that I’ve done plenty for myself and others. And that’s what makes an amazing fandom, one I consider family.

Whoa, when did those five minutes fly by?!

Ah shit, here we go. Deep breaths, Y/N you got this.

“Hello!“ I say as I enter the Discord call, subconsciously biting my lower lip, grateful the camera isn’t capturing it. However, I make a mental note to keep my hands steady cause that’s the one part of me people can actually see and the last thing I want is for them to see how much my fingers are trembling.

“Oh hi, Y/N!“ Toast is the first one to greet me, “Welcome to the stream! Thank you so much for accepting our invitation.“

“Thank you for having me and inviting me, Toast. This is a huge deal for me. You guys are basically YouTube legends, this is unreal to me.“ I reply, cringing immediately afterwards because of my fangirl rambling. Great way to make first impressions, Y/N. Bravo.

To be fair, they already have an impression of you. Quit stressing.

Aright, you’ve got a point, me.

“Oh please, we owe all that to our fans. We’re really nothing special. All streamers are almost completely alike, we all owe where we are to the people who helped us make it there - our fans. We’re no legends.“ Toast says, bringing a small smile to my face as well as a light pink blush to my cheeks, “And from what I’ve seen, you yourself have quite the following. And your fans seem to adore you.“

“And I absolutely adore them.“ I chuckle, “They mean the world to me. They are the reason I’m here today.”

“Then we have to give them a special thank you, don’t you think?“ The teasing, familiar giggle, widens my smile - it’s Rae, “Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’m Rae, and, no cap, I’m quite a fan of your content. No joke, I binged your entire series of Resident Evil 7 as soon as I found your channel when Toast said he’d invite you.“

This rattles me a bit. I can hardly believe it - am I really receiving a compliment from an A-list name in the streaming world? My fans must be hella proud of me right now. A quick glance at my chat confirms that they indeed are. That in and of itself fills me with joy and newfound confidence.

“Oh Gosh, thank you so much Rae! That means the world to me. You’re all so sweet.“ I reply, lifting my ice cold hands to cool down my burning cheeks, my lips spread into a grin, my stomach filled with butterflies.

“Oh please, we have some real savages around here.“ A male voice, seemingly Charlie’s scoffs, “Don’t overlook us please.“

“Wait, we do?“ A deep voice, one I immediately know the owner of speaks up, “Who? How come I don’t know about that?“

I can’t help bust snort, “Nice to meet you, Corpse. Sarcasm central, I see.”

He laughs, “Just returning it to where it’s due. Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Sick Outlast series, by the way.“

Ok, wait, I have two A-list streamers complimenting my content. Ok, I’m bound to crack open a few beers to celebrate later cause OH MY GOD.

“Thanks! I’m a horror junkie so I’d be lying if I said I haven’t binge watched all your story-times. Personal favorites are the deep web ones, they fascinate me.“

“Oh, you’re one of my kind even more than I expected, huh?“ He replies, the tone of his voice changing, raising a bit due to what I can only describe as excitement and enthusiasm. “I’ve had people tell me it’s twisted, but I really like seeing the lengths to which the fucked up human mind can go to. Like, the shit I’ve read is insane! Some stories I didn’t narrate cause I would’ve probably had my video taken down, it was that messed up.“

My eyes widen, sharing the same excitement at the thought of digging deeper into this phenomenon, “Careful, Corpse, you’re walking a dangerous line of tempting me to deep-dive on Reddit in search of those exact stories.”

“No need.“ Corpse says, his tone now taking up a bit of a cocky note, “I still got them all saved, I can send them to you no problem.“

“Please do! I seriously gotta read them now. If I can’t sleep afterwards, I’m blaming you, Corpse. Just FYI.“ I say, giggling slightly, finding myself all but completely comfortable now. I wonder where all that anxiety went? 

“Blame fully taken. Given that I’m not much of a sleeper, I’ll keep you company whenever you think there’s a killer hiding in your closet or fear a red room pop-up will appear on your computer screen.“ He replies, chuckling.

“Um, that’s oddly specific.“ Charlie comments, “Been there yourself, buddy?”

“Perhaps.“ Corpse wheezes, getting a laugh out of me too, “I will neither confirm nor deny.“

“You know what, I’ll just private message you my number so if you see it call you at some ungodly hour, you don’t freak the fuck out. Sounds good?“ I ask, already prepping to type it out and send it to him. 

“Perfect. Wait...“ he pauses for a second, sounding puzzled for a second, “You don’t have mine.“

“Oh, do I not?“ I reply with a sinister tone - thought to answer the question, I of course don’t have his number.

“Oh, do you?“ He sasses me right back. “If so then you don’t need me to send it to you. Cool.“

Ah, shit

“Wait, no! I-I need to confirm it’s the correct one!“

Damn, never did I think I’d be complimented by some of the most important streamers on this platform, but to get a number of theirs too? That’s a whole another level that will take me time to process. But I’ll do that another time, right now, I have to kick these people’s butts in Among Us and later I have some deep web stories to read.

Turns out, all it takes to get comfortable in a new surrounding is someone of your kind. And Corpse is definitely one of my kind.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[oficmag]

Contributor Spotlight: Glenn

Issue #2 is now out in the world, and we are so excited to spotlight some of our stupendous sophomore contributors. We hope you all love them as much as we do!

Today’s spotlight is on Glenn, who wrote “Little Ghosts by Esos Ridley” for Issue #2.

Tell us a bit about yourself!

Glenn Dungan is currently based in Brooklyn, NYC. He exists within a Venn-diagram of urban design, sociology, and good stories. When not obsessing about one of those three, he can be found at a park drinking black coffee and listening to podcasts about murder.

How did you find fandom?

Submission Grinder

What fandom are you in now and what brought you here?

Comic books taught me to read and even to this day they hold a special place in my heart. It was the only childhood fascination of mine that has carried me through to adulthood. Bring on the superheroes! I was brought to OFIC because of their passion for fandoms and the fans within. Fandoms are a very personal thing, and being able to identify with others who have just as much fashion for their corner of Comic-Con is, at least from a sort of meta stand point, really, really inspiring! 

What’s your favorite book of all time and what do you love about it?

Jerusalem by Alan Moore. You might recognize the name from graphic novels like Watchmen and V for Vendetta. The book is a doorstopper and I honestly think you can wield it as a weapon if you were threatened in a library or something. It truly is that big! 

I love Moore's dedication to the craft of storytelling. This passion bleeds through every word and every page. It's not a book for readers. It's a book for writers. I could tell you more about it, but I wouldn't be able to do it justice. Just read it, read it, read it! 

What projects are you working on right now?

I am working on a collection of short stories based on Coney Island, a piece about AA for cannibals, and am currently querying for an urban fantasy novel that aims to combine Lovecraftian cosmic horror with the gig economy, which, as an aspiring author living in New York City, I am all too familiar with.

What are your aspirations as a writer, big picture or small?

I would love to write a comic book series one day, either my own independent story or an arc of X-Men or Spider-Man. Going bigger, I'd love to get something I wrote adapted into a movie, or better yet, an HBO series. I don't know how any of that stuff works, but HBO if you're reading this, please reach out. There are only so many messenger pigeons I can send to your offices before I start running out of birds and paper. 

If you could give one piece of advice to beginning writers, what would you tell them?

Write. Read. Write. Read. Write. Read authors who are better than you because it will make you want to be better. Read authors who (in your opinion) are horrible, because if they can get published, so can you. Then write some more and read some more. That's it. If you want to get better, you have to put in the time. 

THANK YOU FOR BEING A PART OF THE OFIC FAMILY, GLENN! WE’RE SO THRILLED TO SHARE YOUR ART WITH THE WORLD.

[fairyhee]

Chocolate eclairs (pt.1)

“Aren’t you a Valentine’s day hater, though?”

“Only because I don’t have a date and I’m bitter about it, but you can change that.”

🍫optional bias x reader (h/n means his name)

🍫enemies to lovers, kinda slow burn?, flirting (smut in pt.2)

🍫inspired by: 5sos-valentine

[I know Valentine’s Day has already passed but I got this idea while daydreaming a few days ago and I couldn’t help myself. And also maybe I love this made-up celebration a bit too much and I don’t want to accept it’s over. If you dislike cheesy stuff this might not be for you lmao]

When it comes to Valentine’s, people are always either hardcore fans or hardcore haters. While you were definitely part of the first category, you just couldn’t understand how anyone can dislike a celebration that’s meant to spread love. And also, the pretty lingerie, the sweets, the champagne and the sex, hello?? You would have them any day of the year if you could. And if you had someone to celebrate with, in the first place.

As for people in the other category, they could hate it all they want but in your eyes they were probably just painfully single. Not that you weren’t, but you never wanted to let that spoil the fun. So what if you were single? What one can do with a partner, you could very well do on your own. So every year you made plans to do everything you wanted, but on a solo date instead of with somebody else. Love yourself first, right?

So on the morning of february 14th, after you were done with your self-pampering ritual, you stepped out for coffee and pancakes. The plan was that after breakfast, you would stop by the lingerie store and treat yourself to a nice set, then buy some sweets from the french bakery, then go home and get all dolled up for the evening, when you had reserved a table at a pink-themed restaurant, beautifully situated on the top floor of one of the highest buildings in your town. It was definitely among the most popular spots for that day, but you couldn’t care less that you were going by yourself. You could have gone with one of your girl friends, if they weren’t all already taken and spending the day “watching netflix”.

Thinking about the peaceful day that was ahead of you, you had almost reached your first destination. Your favorite cafe held an event today and served red pancakes with chocolate hearts as a special menu, as well as v-day themed coffee cups that you couldn’t wait to take photos of. As you entered the cafe, you spotted a familiar silhouette by the counter. He didn’t have to turn around for you to confirm it was him, because as soon as you heard him order his ice americano, your perfect day was already ruined. It was h/n. 

Instead of saying hi, you groaned as you approached the counter. “Who drinks iced coffee in february? You have serious issues.”

He turned around, seemingly suprised to see you at first, but he quickly got to back to his usual self. “Only cool people can drink iced coffee, you wouldn’t understand. And also, a ‘good morning’ would have been enough.”

“It was good until I saw you, so now I can’t say that anymore, can I?” you said while scanning the menu. “One rose lemonade and the special strawberry pancakes with fresh cream, please.”

From where he was standing, you heard a dramatic gasp. “How can you tell me I have issues when you ingest so much sugar from this early in the day? If this is what you have for breakfast, what the hell are you having for dinner?” You wanted to slap that overly exaggerated shocked expression off his face.

“None of your fucking business. Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna walk to my table and go on with my day. If I spend another minute with you I’m afraid it might turn bitter and cold, like you and your beloved americano.”

You were beyond irritated that you had to put up with his shit today, too. You had met h/n at a party during university because of a mutual friend, and you immediately found out you had absolutely nothing in common, except both wanting to excel in your field and to be right at all times. Both of you had strong opinions and just wouldn’t back down. Every time you met, your personalities clashed, and the useless arguments and snarky remarks wouldn’t stop coming. It certainly didn’t help that he was so handsome and so good at what he did (he was a singer in a band) and that everyone else always complimented and admired him, because that made his ego grow and everything just annoyed you even more. Handsome boys always had to be over-confident and you hated that with a passion. The worst part was that he had every right to be confident, but you would never admit that. You weren’t sure what his opinion was of you but you didn’t care to know.

While you were sat at your table, scrolling through your phone and trying to block the previous conversation from re-entering your mind, he just casually sat down across from you at the table, putting down not one, but two iced americanos.

For a few seconds you stared at him blankly. “Can I know what the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m gonna try to convince you that americano is the best coffee.”

“Ha, nice try. What makes you think I would even try it? It’s way too cold outside to drink. Haven’t I told you I don’t want bitterness in my life?”

He smirked. “I asked the barista to put 3 pumps of sugar syrup in it so it can be at least remotely drinkable for you. You will also need someone to watch over you, since I expect you to have a heart attack from all the sweetness, so, before you ask me to, no, I don’t want to leave your drink here and fuck off. So since you’ll be stuck with me until you finish your breakfast, tell me, what have I done to make you dislike me so much?” he placed his chin on his left hand and took a sip of his americano. “I’m curious.” rather than annoyed with you, he looked rather playful.

“Wow, you seem to be having a lot of fun interrupting my day. Glad at least one of us is having a good time. If you want me to touch that drink, you better take out at least half of that amount of ice cubes. After that, we can talk.”

You didn’t expect him to actually do what you said, but he stood up without a word and slowly walked to the counter to ask the barista to fix it. He was so tall, that the strings of the heart shaped helium balloons that were floating around the ceiling reached his eyes, so he walked around the cafe shielding his face with his hand. Why did you find that cute all of a sudden? It’s like you had just realized that his height was very attractive to you. When he turned around, you were smiling at him.

He gave you a wide-eyed look while he was placing your drink down for the second time. “Now you’re smiling at me? Did the sugar from those pancakes get to your brain already?”

“It’s just kinda funny seeing you between all those heart-shaped pink balloons after our last argument.” He had argued that all these holidays, like Halloween, V-day, Mother’s day and so on are made up for purely capitalist purposes and people who celebrate just feed into the consumerism. Besides, his social media posts had appeared on your feed the other day, because he had shared a bunch of memes poking fun at the cheesy traditions. “So what are you doing here today anyway, I thought you were a Valentine’s day hater?” 

“Only because I don’t have a date and I’m bitter about it, like you said. But you can change that.”

You quickly looked up from your plate to check for any sign that he’s joking, but he definitely wasn’t laughing. His eyebrow was cocked up and an annoying smirk was planted on his face. He looked so hot, it was absurd.

His proposal, combined with your own thoughts, made you burst into laughter. You were annoyed at the fact that you were considering it. “Aren’t you getting a bit ahead of yourself? Of course I can change that, but do you really think I will?” you asked ironically. You took a sip of the iced americano, hoping it would cool down your brain and help you think straight again.

He smiled. “I don’t know, but the fact that I just made you laugh is a good sign. Also,” he said pointing at the coffee, “you just drank that and didn’t complain. You just accepted my drink and I got you convinced it’s not bad, both at the same time. That’s three wins in a row for me.”

Shit, he was right.

“I love it when you talk back to me, so I’m almost feeling sorry I left you without any comeback to that.”, he laughed. “So what other plans do you have today? What else do I have to try to ruin?”

“Oh, just a bunch of uninteresting things. I’m sure a self-proclaimed cool dude like yourself would be bored just hearing about it.” That was it. Your defense had fallen, you were actually starting to like him, but you still wouldn’t admit it, so now you were adamant to prove you were completely uninterested in him and he didn’t affect you even in the slightest. You were even willing to accept him tagging along when you went shopping if he wanted. Half because you wanted to spend more time with him without actually accepting his half-hearted date proposal, and half because you wanted him to think you don’t care even if he tries to bother you.

“Well, I don’t have anything better to do today. You asked me what I’m doing here, I actually simply came to get coffee. So do you mind if I come with you? Annoying you is more fun than doing nothing on a sunday.” 

Perfect, you thought. You fake-rolled your eyes. “Whatever. You’ve already ruined my day, it can’t get worse no matter how much you’ll talk. Let’s go shopping, I know men are absolutely crazy over this activity, so let’s see how much fun you’ll have there.”

“Try me.” he said while finishing his drink. 

You smiled and, having finished your breakfast, you stood up.“You might want to have another americano to-go, to keep you from getting tainted with my sweetness. Get up, we’re going to buy chocolate eclairs.”

...

part 2

[bloody-bee-tea]

Vision

Jiang Cheng tries his best to appear unaffected, but going by how skittish his disciples are around him, he’s not quite managing it.

But Jiang Cheng can’t help it; it’s the first time since Lotus Pier burned and he rebuilt it, that another Sect Leader is coming to visit and Jing Cheng feels like he’s being tested.

He doesn’t like that feeling one bit.

Jiang Cheng straightens up, when the first disciple comes into view, because he’s going to excel whatever test this is, and if it’s going to kill him. 

“Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang calls out when they are still a good distance away, but Jiang Cheng can still see how Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes at his over-enthusiastic brother and a tiny part of Jiang Cheng relaxes. Their relationship is a bittersweet-familiar one and Jiang Cheng thinks if they are just here to check in on him, then he can do this.

“Nie-zongzhu,” Jiang Cheng greets Nie Mingjue, bowing low, because even though they are both Sect Leaders now their status couldn’t be more different.

Yunmeng Jiang barely escaped extinction while Qinghe Nie came away as the victor of the Sunshot Campaign, despite the losses they had to endure.

“So formal, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang complaints and his brother cuffs him over the head for his troubles.

“At least he remembers his manners,” Nie Mingjue says with a sigh and slightly shakes his head when Nie Huaisang makes puppy eyes at him over his fan.

“We’re old friends, there’s no need to be this formal,” Nie Huaisang whines and something in Jiang Cheng goes warm and pleased to hear that Nie Huaisang still considers them friends, even after everything that happened.

“Jiang-zongzhu, please excuse my brother,” Nie Mingjue tells him, overly formal and stiff, but there’s a teasing glint in his eyes and Nie Huaisang puffs out his cheeks in mock outrage.

Jiang Cheng has to bite back a laugh at that, and when Nie Huaisang whirls around to him, he at least pretends to be serious.

“Let me show you to your rooms, you must be exhausted after the travel,” Jiang Cheng says, remembering his manners and starts to lead the Nie delegation towards the guest quarters.

They haven’t been one of his priorities during rebuilding Lotus Pier, but when Nie Mingjue’s formal request of a visit reached him, Jiang Cheng had done his utmost best to get them ready.

He does not want anyone to complain about his hosting skills; besides hurting his pride it would seriously damage the image of his Sect and truth be told, they can’t take much more.

They are barely scraping by as it is.

“It almost looks the same,” Nie Mingjue says suddenly when they are halfway there and Jiang Cheng stiffens. “I heard everything burned down?”

“It did,” Jiang Cheng presses out and he tries to see Lotus Pier with Nie Mingjue’s eyes, but all he can see are the smouldering remains of what used to be his home.

No matter how he rebuilds it, in his mind it will always be the new Lotus Pier. And no matter how he tries to make it look the same, there are subtle differences. Enough of them to make him wonder what his parents would say of it; what his sister and Wei Wuxian would say of it.

Jiang Cheng thinks at least his mother would scold him for not remembering his home correctly and doing such a piss-poor job.

“You did a great job rebuilding it,” Nie Mingjue tells him and Jiang Cheng works his jaw.

“Thank you,” he gets out.

“Did you do a lot of the construction work?” 

“Of course I did,” Jiang Cheng stiffly says. 

Mostly because there was no one else around who remembered how Lotus Pier used to look like, but also because Jiang Cheng would never only order his disciples around. If he isn’t willing to do something, how can he ask the same of his people?

“Would you like to compare notes later? I did a fair share of construction in Qinghe myself and there are not many Sect Leaders I can talk to about this. Jin Guangshan is not known to get his hands dirty like that,” Nie Mingjue says, and Jiang Cheng can feel the rage bubble up inside him again.

How dare Nie Mingjue say this; how dare he imply that Jiang Cheng’s work isn’t up to par, that he’s lowering himself to do the dirty work. It’s hitting a very vulnerable part of Jiang Cheng, because his father used to say the same whenever Jiang Cheng was quick to help people rebuild after a flood or another disaster.

His mother only ever watched him with piercing eyes, but his father was of the firm believe that they had disciples for this exact reason.

And to hear these similar words out of Nie Mingjue’s mouth now makes his blood boil with anger.

But Jiang Cheng can’t afford to offend Nie Mingjue and Qinghe Nie, so he forces a smile on his face.

“Sure,” he says, aiming for a light tone, but going by the small frown on Nie Mingjue’s face he doesn’t quite manage to do that.

“Jiang-xiong, are you alright?” Nie Huaisang asks, flicking his fan open and moving it in a nervous gesture.

“Of course I am,” Jiang Cheng gives back, because he can’t afford to be anything else.

Not with reconstruction still going on and especially not with Jin Ling being at Lotus Pier at the moment.

Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang share a look at that, one that makes Jiang Cheng’s skin crawl, but he clenches his jaw and simply shows them to their quarters. 

He can’t afford to make a mess of the situation, so he swallows all of his rude remarks down and bids them a farewell once he’s sure they are situated.

Jiang Cheng flees and then spends the rest of the afternoon trying to get himself back together. He appointed his most trusted disciple to keep an eye on the Nie delegation, in case they need something and so he spends his time pretending that he’s not vibrating out of his skin with nervousness about this visit.

The first day passes without another incident, and on the second da Jiang Cheng almost feels like himself again. He spends breakfast with the Nie’s, entirely unremarkable except for Nie Huaisang’s incessant shatter and Nie Mingjue’s fond eyerolls, and then he leaves for the training grounds.

He might have to entertain guests, but he’s still the Sect Leader and since they are still in the process of building up again, there are not enough disciples who could reliably teach the new ones. 

It’s just one of the many things Jiang Cheng has to oversee himself, so he’s standing at the side-lines, watching his disciples in their training fights.

There are a lot of different styles, since he simply picked up any willing cultivator he could find and while it looks chaotic, it certainly has its merits.

At least the Yunmeng Jiang will always be unpredictable, Jiang Cheng thinks when he watches one of the kids he picked up on the street go for the hair of her opponent.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Nie Mingjue suddenly says from beside him and Jiang Cheng stiffens.

“Sect Leader Jiang was my father,” he gives back, because it still feels wrong to be addressed like this.

“Jiang Wanyin, then?” Nie Mingjue asks his eyes never leaving the training disciples. 

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng agrees and he sees Nie Mingjue nod from the corner of his eyes.

“Nie Mingjue, then,” Nie Mingjue tells him and while it feels so wrong to address Nie Mingjue this casually, Jiang Cheng nods as well.

He keeps his gaze trained on his disciples, hoping that Nie Mingjue will get bored and leave, even though he should offer some entertainment to him, but Nie Mingjue stays where he is.

“They have an interesting fighting style,” Nie Mingjue eventually says, almost offhandedly and Jiang Cheng tenses again. 

He has a snappish reply on his tongue, but then his attention is brought back to one of the disciples who make a grievous mistake with the sword and Jiang Cheng is walking up to him, before he can consciously decide to do so.

The disciple tenses in apparent fear, seemingly ready to accept Jiang Cheng’s scolding, and he does scold. A lot. And then he shows the disciple how it’s done right and from that point on it just goes downhill because everyone keeps asking him about this technique and that form and before he knows it Jiang Cheng was roped into giving a lesson.

And all the while Nie Mingjue stayed at the side-lines, silently watching them.

“Apologies,” Jiang Cheng says when he finally manages to get away from his disciples. 

“No need,” Nie Mingjue easily says. “You’re good with them.”

Jiang Cheng snorts bitterly at that, because he knows that more than half of them are deathly afraid of him, like the old disciples were of his mother, and the other half barely has the respect for him that he deserves, but there is nothing he can do about it. 

It is what it is, he just doesn’t need Nie Mingjue to rub it in even more.

“Let me show you around Lotus Pier,” Jiang Cheng says instead of saying something biting, something that he will regret later, and as if on cue Nie Huaisang materializes next to them.

“I would love to see everything!” he exclaims, not so subtly elbowing Nie Mingjue into the side and Jiang Cheng frowns as he wonders what’s that all about.

“Yes, that would be—nice,” Nie Mingjue says and the delay is noticeable enough that Jiang Cheng can tell that he does not care to see Lotus Pier at all.

Still, he has appearances to hold up, so he dutifully shows them around and with Nie Huaisang’s excitement it’s almost not awkward at all.

“I’m sorry we’re taking up so much of your time,” Nie Mingjue says when Nie Huaisang ran yet again to another stall and Jiang Cheng shrugs awkwardly.

He wants to ask why exactly they are here, but he really does not want to hear that this is an inspection and so in the end he stays silent for so long that answering would be awkward.

So instead he points out one of his own favourite stalls and it seems to be enough for Nie Mingjue to relax, because his shoulders slump and Jiang Cheng hadn’t even realized that he was so tense.

It seems that even if this is an inspection Nie Mingjue is also in great need of some relaxing downtime himself and even though they just came out of near extinction, even though they are barely scraping by, the Yunmeng Jiang always knew how to have fun.

“Come,” Jiang Cheng tells them out of the blue and leads Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue towards one of the outer piers. 

They can hear laughter and yelling before they even get close and both Nie’s seem rather intrigued by that. 

When they finally come into view of the people playing in the water, they stop and Jiang Cheng gives them some time to catch up on the game rules before he speaks again.

“You’re free to join them if you want,” he says and while Nie Huaisang’s eyes go wide Nie Mingjue smiles at him before he reaches for his belt, clearly content to let his clothes drop right where they stand, like the other disciples as well.

Jiang Cheng did not calculate for that at all and he hurriedly averts his eyes from the new stripe of skin that Nie Mingjue reveals.

“Do you have many games like this?” he asks as he gets off his shoes and Jiang Cheng tenses again.

He wonders what it is about Nie Mingjue that always so easily hits him where it hurts; to imply that they do nothing but play is a blow Jiang Cheng is not sure how to deal with. It brings back memories of Wei Wuxian, whining at him to join them in their game, and of his mother’s cutting voice berating him that an heir shouldn’t spent his time with useless play like this.

But before Jiang Cheng can figure out how to reply to Nie Mingjue, Nie Mingjue already jumped into the water, clearly ready to get right in on the fun, and Jiang Cheng is left with Nie Huaisang on the pier.

“Da-ge doesn’t get enough fun,” Nie Huaisang says from behind his fan. “Being Sect Leader is so demanding and it’s good that he gets to enjoy himself a little here.”

Jiang Cheng bites back on the words that being a Sect Leader is not supposed to be fun, and instead he only awkwardly shrugs, making Nie Huaisang frown at him again.

“Why don’t you join them as well?” Nie Huaisang asks with a curious glance and Jiang Cheng scoffs.

“Not all of us have the time to play around like this,” he bites out and when he sees Nie Huaisang flinch Jiang Cheng turns away from him.

“Feel free to roam Lotus Pier as you see fit, there will be people around to answer your questions,” Jiang Cheng tells him, head held high and then he simply marches off.

He’s aching with the want to join his disciples in the water; he misses playing around like that. But he knows that the moment he would start to shed his clothes people would stop, would stare, would freeze in fright and it’s not untrue what he told Nie Huaisang; he does have too much to do to simply slack off like this.

When evening finally falls, Jiang Cheng is bend low over paper work. His eyes are burning and his back is aching, but he can’t stop yet. There are still piles upon piles on his table and if Jiang Cheng doesn’t make a dent in them soon then he might as well drown under them.

“Sect Leader,” one of his disciples suddenly speaks up from the door and Jiang Cheng turns bleary eyes on her.

“What?” he snaps and then immediately winces.

It’s no wonder everyone here is afraid of him.

“It’s young master Jin,” she says apologetically, but Jiang Cheng is already on his feet.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asks, the worry already settling in his gut.

“He’s been screaming for the last half hour. I think he misses you,” she says with a small smile and something warm replaces the worry.

At least Jin Ling is too little to fear him yet.

“I’ll be right there,” he promises, and hurries to finish up the letter he was working on before he makes his way over to Jin Ling’s room.

True to her word, he’s screaming at the top of his lungs, and now that he hears this Jiang Cheng can’t help but to worry again. What if it’s something more serious? He rushes inside the room and immediately snatches Jin Ling out of the arms of his disciple.

“It’s okay now,” Jiang Cheng says, more to Jin Ling than to her. “I have him now.”

“Alright,” she says with a bow of her head and immediately leaves him to it.

“What’s wrong, little one?” Jiang Cheng softly asks when Jin Ling continues to scream but he seems to react to his voice, because the cries get a little bit softer. “I’m here now, there’s no need for you to make such a fuss, brat,” Jiang Cheng whispers, his voice fond, and Jin Ling really stops crying.

He blinks up at Jiang Cheng with his big eyes and then simply snuggles deeper into his embrace.

“There you go, it’s not that bad after all, is it?” Jiang Cheng says, mostly so that he has something to say, because his voice does seem to relax Jin Ling.

Jiang Cheng continues to whisper nonsense to him, until he’s sure that Jin Ling feel asleep and only then does he dare to put him down in his crib.

Jiang Cheng holds his breath once he lets go of Jin Ling, but the boy blessedly slumbers on and Jiang Cheng lets out a soft sigh.

He would never say that it’s a chore too look after his sister’s son, but it is time consuming; and Jiang Cheng doesn’t have much of that even without caring for an infant.

Jiang Cheng knows that he should get back to his paper work immediately, that he shouldn’t stay and linger and simply stare at Jin Ling, but it’s another handful of minutes before he can tear himself away from him.

When he steps outside of Jin Ling’s room, Jiang Cheng immediately tenses when he sees Nie Mingjue leaning against the wall.

“What are you doing here?” Jiang Cheng snaps, but he’s still mindful of the sleeping Jin Ling and Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“I came to find you, but your disciple told me to go here,” Nie Mingjue easily says and Jiang Cheng vows to have words with that disciple.

“You’re good with him,” Nie Mingjue says with a nod towards Jin Ling’s room and Jiang Cheng clenches his jaw.

He knows he’s not good with Jin Ling, barely knows enough about kids to not kill him immediately and he still hears the whispers from Jinlingtai, how he’s bad for the kid, how he’ll corrupt him, how Jin Ling will turn out as angry and cold as him and it’s all too much for Jiang Cheng to take right now.

“Fight me,” he presses out through clenched teeth and when he sees the way Nie Mingjue lights up at that, the anger turns into cold rage.

He brings them to one of the more remote training fields and then he just waits until Nie Mingjue has Baxia ready. Jiang Cheng doesn’t hesitate to bring out Zidian as well as Sandu and then they are off.

It’s a vicious fight and the first time since the war that Jiang Cheng doesn’t hold back. Nie Mingjue has no problems parrying Sandu, but he seems at a loss with Zidian and Jiang Cheng takes shameless advantage of that, though he does keep the electricity running through it to a bare minimum.

He doesn’t want to kill or permanently injure Nie Mingjue after all.

Still, Nie Mingjue is a force to be reckoned with, and while it’s clear that he too is struggling, there’s a smile on his face that only enrages Jiang Cheng further.

Their fight goes on for longer than Jiang Cheng expected, Zidian singing and Sandu clashing with Baxia, but in the end Nie Mingjue tackles him to the ground.

When Jiang Cheng’s back hits the ground, his breath leaves him in a rush and his vision turns black for a moment, before stars appear everywhere.

Jiang Cheng blinks up at the sky, trying to get his lungs to work properly again, but it still takes him an embarrassingly long time.

In the end Nie Mingjue seems to tire of waiting for him to compose himself and he holds out a hand to him.

“You’re a good fighter,” Nie Mingjue says, just as Jiang Cheng is about to reach for his hand. “And you wield Zidian almost better than Sandu,” he tacks on, and Jiang Cheng goes cold.

He wouldn’t have minded this much, before—his mother never did after all—but after what happened with Wei Wuxian, after everyone came after him for not using his sword like he should, it leaves a bad taste in his mouth now.

“What do you know,” Jiang Cheng snaps and slaps Nie Mingjue’s hand away, getting up out of his own strength.

“Jiang Wanyin?” Nie Mingjue asks with a frown and Jiang Cheng squares his shoulders before he faces him again.

“Don’t tell me I fight well when I just lost and don’t ever imply that I am favouring Zidian over Sandu ever again,” he hisses out and when he sees Nie Mingjue’s surprised look on his face, Jiang Cheng quickly turns away.

“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue calls after him, and the informality stops Jiang Cheng in his steps. “I haven’t had a fight like this in a while. Not many people can hold out against me for as long as you did. Of course you fight well. And I didn’t mean anything with my comment about Zidian; it’s a spiritual tool and you wield it well. That’s all,” Nie Mingjue explains, almost awkwardly, and Jiang Cheng wants to leave, he really does, but he’s rooted to the spot.

“Is that the problem?” Nie Mingjue asks and it sounds like he came closer, though Jiang Cheng didn’t hear any footsteps. “Have I offended you all this time without knowing?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng lets out a hard breath.

“I’m not lowering to do the dirty work when I help with rebuilding,” Jiang Cheng says bitterly, even though he knows that’s what everyone thinks.

“Of course not,” Nie Mingjue immediately says. “And that wasn’t what I meant. I really do help with construction every now and then, if my time allows for it. It’s hard work, but also rewarding. I really hoped to compare notes with you. It’s not like Jin Guangshan would ever lift a finger to help any of his disciples like that so I don’t usually have someone to talk to about this.”

Jiang Cheng gives a short nod at that, and then he figures he might as well lay it all out. It’s almost easy, now that he doesn’t have to face Nie Mingjue.

“And when you say my disciples have an interesting fighting style?”

“It’s just that. Interesting. The Yunmeng Style is very clearly still there, but they are not as rigid as before. It’s good to see them fall back to the things some of them clearly learned on the streets. It won’t make that much difference against a monster, but if they ever have to fight another cultivator or something with sentience, it will give them the upper hand. It’s a good thing.”

“The game?” Jiang Cheng whispers, now thoroughly embarrassed by how low he thought of Nie Mingjue and how easily believed he was just here to insult him.

“We have a few with balls, but none in the water. I never saw such a game and I was simply curious if there were more. I’d like to try them all, the last one was fun,” Nie Mingjue says with a chuckle even though he thoroughly lost that game, as Jiang Cheng learned.

“And Jin Ling?” Jiang Cheng asks.

“I just meant that you’re good with him,” Nie Mingjue gives back and Jiang Cheng can almost imagine him shrugging. “He clearly loves you if he settles down by just hearing your voice and you didn’t get impatient once. You clearly love him as well.”

Jiang Cheng takes a shuddering breath when Nie Mingjue falls silent and he finally turns around to him.

“What do you want from me? Why are you here?” he asks, because for all that it has been a few days he still doesn’t know why Nie Mingjue is here.

“I thought I made that clear in my letter,” Nie Mingjue says with a frown that only gets deeper when he sees Jiang Cheng’s confused look. “I’m here to see if we’re compatible. If a courtship between us might work out.”

“You’re what?” Jiang Cheng blurts out and before the frown on Nie Mingjue’s face can get any deeper Nie Huaisang appears at his side.

“This might be my fault,” he admits, tipping his fan against his mouth and seemingly not at all bothered when both Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng turn incredulous eyes on him.

“Explain,” Nie Mingjue grumbles and Nie Huaisang gives him a winning smile.

“I stole that page of the letter,” Nie Huaisang says with an easy shrug and Jiang Cheng is so confused he doesn’t even know what to say to that.

“Why would you do that?” Nie Mingjue asks as he pinches the bridge of his nose, but he doesn’t seem angry and Nie Huaisang seems to know that very well.

“Because I know Jiang-xiong and if you had written anything about a courtship he would have clamped right up and then you’d get nowhere,” Nie Huaisang cries out and Jiang Cheng goes red in the face, because Nie Huaisang might not be wrong.

“Huaisang!” Nie Mingjue yells at him, but Nie Huaisang only hides behind his fan and blinks his big eyes at Nie Mingjue.

“I’m sorry?” Nie Huaisang asks, but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“No, you’re not,” he heaves out with a sigh. “Go scram before I make you practice your sabre,” Nie Mingjue threatens but when Nie Huaisang laughs Jiang Cheng knows that it’s an empty thread.

“Alright, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang says and promptly dashes away leaving Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng in uncomfortable silence.

“I’m sorry about him,” Nie Mingjue eventually says, but Jiang Cheng shakes his head, because there’s only one thought in his mind.

“Courtship?” he asks, because he cannot wrap his mind around this as all and he was not prepared to see Nie Mingjue blush like that.

“See, this is why I wrote it down,” Nie Mingjue grumbles. “It’s easier when it’s written down.”

“Mingjue, courtship?” Jiang Cheng asks again, because it still doesn’t make any sense at all and Nie Mingjue sighs again.

“Yes, Wanyin, a courtship.”

“Between us?”

“Do you see anyone else? Did I go visit anyone else?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng simply sits down on the ground again, because of all the reasons why Nie Mingjue could have come, this possibility didn’t enter Jiang Cheng’s head even once.

“You must be joking,” Jiang Cheng whispers and then tenses when Nie Mingjue simply sits down next to him.

“I assure you, I’m not,” he says.

“But then you surely must have changed your mind by now,” Jiang Cheng tries next, because there is no way in hell that Nie Mingjue, esteemed fighter and Sect Leader, would still want to court him after he saw what a mess Jiang Cheng is.

“Between praising your fighting, your way with Jin Ling, your disciples and your construction work, where do you think I changed my mind?” Nie Mingjue shoots back and Jiang Cheng goes still.

“Were you just giving me meaningless compliments?” he asks and that thought suddenly hurts more than he expected.

But if Nie Mingjue had an ulterior goal in mind then of course he’d praise Jiang Cheng. And of course they would all be hollow and empty words.

“Do you know me to be like that?” Nie Mingjue wants to know. “If I don’t like you, then I’ll say so. If I do like you, then I’ll say that as well.”

“You don’t like Jin Guangshan and you never said that to him,” Jiang Cheng gives back, his mind still spinning.

“Oh, rest assured, he knows I loath him. No need to say it out loud,” Nie Mingjue easily gives back but then he falls silent. “Huaisang was right, wasn’t he. You’re totally clamping up on me.”

Jiang Cheng flushes again at that.

“I mean, who wouldn’t? Courtship? With me?”

“With who else? You’re a hero of the Sunshot Campaign. You rebuild your Sect, you’re parenting your sister’s son and you’re not cowering before anyone. There’s much to admire about you, Wanyin.”

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng breathes out as he hides his face in his hands.

“I will if you give me an answer, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue says and the way he says Jiang Cheng’s name sends a shiver down his back.

“Can we—how long are you going to stay?” Jiang Cheng asks instead of giving him a concrete answer but Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to mind that much.

“I can squeeze in a few more days,” Nie Mingjue says with a shrug. “Why?”

“I think—I’d like you to stay for a while longer now that I know why you’re here,” Jiang Cheng gives back.

He can’t quite agree to a courtship just yet, but he thinks he’d like to spent more time with Nie Mingjue, especially now that he knows what he wants from him.

“Sure,” Nie Mingjue easily replies and he doesn’t seem to mind Jiang Cheng’s lack of an answer much.

Nie Mingjue doesn’t behave any different in the next few days either, but at least now Jiang Cheng knows to simply accept the things Nie Mingjue says without searching for a hidden meaning behind his words and since Jiang Cheng knows that this is not an inspection but something completely different he can actually enjoy spending his time with Nie Mingjue.

So much so that when Nie Mingjue eventually has to depart, Jiang Cheng has a courtship gift ready for him.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[validity-is-powerful]

if you don't tell me I'll find out anyway

[Masterlist]

Warnings: none

Characters: Emily Prentiss, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, David Rossi

Relationships: Prentiss/Hotch, Prentiss & JJ

Genre: fluff

Summary: Prentiss and Hotch have been dating for eight months now, and the team is none the wiser. That changes when Prentiss and JJ share a room after a case, and Prentiss wears one of Hotch's shirts to bed.

Word Count: 2k

Prompt was #20 on this list by @whump-town.

Fic below the cut, or read on ao3.

__

"Okay, so," JJ begins, coming back from the receptionist counter to address the team. In her hands are three room cards. "They're booked and we're here on short notice. They've only got three rooms they can spare us. It was originally two, but one of the customers with a reservation cancelled last minute." She fans the cards out in front of her. "Who's sleeping where?"

"I'm not sleeping with Reid," Morgan chimes in almost immediately with a smile. Reid looks mock-offended, but doesn't protest.

"I'll share with the kid," Rossi says with a heavy sigh.

"I'm not that bad," Reid protests.

"Last time I shared a room with you, you kept me up until four am with rants about sci-fi movies. And don't think I've forgotten the Red Bull incident, either," Morgan says. He pats Rossi's shoulder in condolence. JJ hands the older agent the key card.

"Morgan, room with me," Hotch offers. Morgan nods, and JJ hands their boss one of the remaining key cards.

"That leaves you and me," Prentiss says, but while her voice is heavy, her eyes are anything but. They sparkle with quiet mirth.

"Thank god," JJ jokes. She loops her arm through her friend's.

They make their way to the elevator, all of them, then as they reach the third floor, the pairs go their separate ways. Reid and Rossi are already engaged in a deep conversation, neither of them noticing as Prentiss studies them. Hotch and Morgan look ready to pass out as they make their way over to their room. The two of them are roomed closest to the elevator, she notices.

"God I'm tired," Prentiss says as she and JJ enter their hotel room. She's tempted to faceplant straight onto the bed, but she's still dressed. The case is over and the plane is leaving at nine-thirty tomorrow, meaning she has a chance to get some proper sleep tonight. It'll be more comfortable to get out of the suit she's wearing.

"Only one bed," JJ remarks. Prentiss lifts an eyebrow.

"You handed out the key cards. Did you do that intentionally?" Her friend laughs.

"No. Truth be told, all three rooms are singles." Prentiss makes an amused face.

"Scandalous. And just imagine the boys' reactions." She lounges on one side of the bed, watching absent-mindedly as JJ methodically strips off her outer layers.

As if on cue, their phones ding with a text notification. Prentiss reaches for hers as JJ pulls out a clean shirt.

"Get changed," the blonde suggests, snagging the phone playfully from Prentiss. Prentiss rolls her eyes, also playfully, and gets up. She begins digging through her go-bag for any sleepwear she might have brought, and failing that, something clean and appealing to wear.

"Hotch is checking that everyone's alright and knows what time we're leaving," JJ reports, reading the text.

"That sounds like Hotch," Prentiss says, tossing an old shirt onto the bed. It's a little worn, but it brings her no small amount of comfort. She throws a pair of shorts after it. JJ frowns at the shirt, but doesn't comment.

Prentiss pulls them both on and climbs into bed beside her friend. "JJ. Get under the blankets."

"Sorry," JJ says automatically, still staring at Prentiss' phone. She turns off the lights and gets under the blankets automatically as well, then hands Prentiss her phone back.

"Who's your boyfriend?" Prentiss freezes, then realises that JJ had looked at who she had sent texts to recently. One of the conversations was simply titled '<3'. "Or girlfriend," JJ continues. "You know I don't care that you're bi, beyond supporting you unconditionally." She props herself up on one elbow, smirking as she looks down at Prentiss. "So. Who is it?"

Prentiss clicks off her phone. "None of your business," she says, the words coming out like she's trying too hard for casual. JJ pokes her shoulder.

"If you don't tell me, I'll find out anyway," she teases warningly. Prentiss smirks at her.

"Good luck." And with that, Prentiss rolls herself in her share of the blankets, facing towards JJ as she turns her phone on again. This way, the screen is angled away from her friend. JJ rolls her eyes, but she still looks amused.

"I see how it is," she says, and rearranges her pillow until she's content. She lies on her back and closes her eyes. Prentiss sends off a text to the partner JJ had just asked about.

Emily: JJ's getting suspicious. She saw I had our private messages labeled with a heart.

Aaron: Morgan has some questions as well.

Emily: Chocolate thunder wants to know who you're texting when you should be sleeping?

Aaron: You don't have a healthy sleep schedule either. I told him it was a friend.

Emily: Did he believe you?

Aaron: Yes, but he suspects it's something more. I've appeased him for now.

Emily: I know we've discussed this before, but we should tell the team soon. It's been over eight months.

Aaron: I agree. If we keep this from them much longer, they'll lose trust in us.

Emily: That, and I hate keeping this kind of secret from my best friend.

"Go to sleep, Emily," JJ mumbles, one arm tossed over her eyes. "It's bedtime."

"In a minute."

"Your mystery person can wait." Prentiss glances at her.

"He's my boyfriend." JJ moves her arm and cracks an eye open to look at her.

Aaron: What, that you're dating your boss?

Emily: That I'm dating at all. Speaking of which, I just told her I have a boyfriend.

Aaron: How'd she react?

"Since when?" JJ asks, sounding a bit more awake. "And why didn't you tell me an' Penelope on girls' night or somethin'? We're the people who hype you up for dates."

"We uh, we decided it was best not to say anything," Prentiss says, trying to keep her composure.

Emily: Fine. She wishes I'd told her and Garcia I was seeing someone.

JJ gives her a long, drawn-out, suspicious hum, then turns onto her other side and goes back to sleep. Prentiss is left staring at her friend's back.

Emily: How's Derek doing?

Aaron: He's asleep. Like we should be.

Emily: Sleep is too mainstream for me.

Aaron: ?

Emily: Don't worry about it babe.

Aaron: Riiiight. Goodnight.

Emily: Goodnight, love you.

Aaron: Love you too, Emily.

Prentiss clicks off her phone and sets it aside, then moulds herself around JJ's sleeping form. Her friend presses back against her a little, and Prentiss wraps an arm around the blonde.

She lies awake for a long time, head still buzzing from the case. She compartmentalizes well, but it still sometimes takes her time to wind down. This case wasn't particularly bloody or long, but it did involve an abnormal amount of guesswork and haste, because the unsub was moving from city to city, state to state, then killing and moving on again within a matter of hours. The team's home base had become their SUVs as they chased.

Luckily, the victim count was low, all things considered. But it had been one hell of a few days.

Around one in the morning, the rain starts. It taps familiar patterns against the glass, and she's finally able to doze off as the noise drowns out her thoughts.

*

JJ's alarm goes off, and Prentiss wants to strangle her. The blonde shuts off the noise before it gets to be too unbearable, but by then, Prentiss is already awake. JJ, as usual, is awake before her and is already stirring a cup of hotel coffee, giving it a disappointed look.

"Is it that bad?" Prentiss asks from where she's lying in the bed, blankets ending at her ribcage. JJ just shakes her head slowly.

"It's awful, and not in the good way. Shitty police coffee is one thing, shitty hotel coffee is another." She takes a sip regardless. "Also, we're leaving in half an hour, so you might want to get up." Prentiss groans, but drags herself out of bed. JJ gladly hands her a cup of the hotel coffee when she approaches, then smooths Prentiss' hair out of her face where it had tangled in the night.

Prentiss takes a sip, and makes a face. "Uch. You weren't kidding." JJ laughs a little. They drink in silence, JJ studying her more intensely than usual. Prentiss is about to ask her what's going on when JJ's eyes widen in realisation.

"That's Hotch's shirt," she says, pointing at what Prentiss is wearing with her free hand. Prentiss looks down at her shirt in a mild panic.

It is, in fact, one of Hotch's old shirts that she's wearing. She had swiped it from him, along with a sweatshirt, when they started dating. It's old and faded, but very clearly Hotch, and it brings her comfort to wear it.

Unfortunately, Hotch used to wear the shirt before she asked him out. Around the team, sometimes. Which means JJ knows it.

"No way," the blonde says. She sets her coffee aside, and Prentiss is quick to do the same. "Don't tell me you're dating Hotch."

"Um-"

"Oh my god, you are." An incredulous laugh escapes JJ's throat. She pressed her hands to her mouth in disbelief. Prentiss examines her reaction, but nothing screams hostile. Surprised, a little offended that she wasn't told, sure, but nothing hostile. Mostly surprised. "Wow."

JJ grabs Prentiss' wrist and pulls her to sit on the bed, grinning. "So, what's he like outside of work?" Prentiss raises her eyebrows.

"You mean, in- in private?" JJ makes a 'keep talking' gesture. Prentiss laughs a little. "I'm not telling you what he's like in bed."

"So you've slept together?"

"We have," she confirms. "We've been together eight months now."

"When were you going to tell the rest of us?" Prentiss shrugs.

"I don't know," she answers honestly. "We were planning on doing it soon, but an opportune moment just never came up." JJ grips her hand.

"Em," she says softly. Prentiss looks at her. "Please know I'm happy for you."

*

"We need to tell them," Prentiss says to Hotch as soon as they have a moment alone. The rest of the team has disappeared down to the lobby, and the two of them have a few minutes before their teammates grow suspicious. She and Hotch are standing outside the door to her room. "JJ already pieced it together."

"Will she tell the others?"

"I don't think so. I think she knows it's our secret to tell, and I told her that we'd been planning to reveal it soon." Hotch nods. They're both dressed formally again, in what attire they had worn yesterday for the flight home.

One of Hotch's hands comes up to rest on her jaw. Leaning into his kiss is easier than breathing. Both of them are loathe to separate.

"They'll be waiting for us," Hotch murmurs as she trails kisses along his jaw, pausing to nip the very edge of it before continuing. "Prentiss."

"I know," she says against his skin. She slows, ending with another kiss to his lips.

Hotch's hand grips hers as they walk to the elevators, throwing caution into the wind as they talk, planning together what to say and when to say it.

*

On the flight back to DC, everyone is awake. It's unusual for them to have an opportunity for a full night's rest the night before. Usually, they fly home in the evening. It means that when Hotch stands up, everyone looks over.

"Prentiss and I have an announcement," he begins. JJ breaks into a grin, knowing what's coming. Rossi looks like he's hiding a smile as well. Reid and Morgan just look confused.

"We uh, we meant to tell you guys before," Prentiss says, continuing where Hotch left off. "We're dating." A second of silence. Then:

"Congratulations!"

"I'm so happy for you guys!"

"Reid owes me five bucks," Morgan says with a grin. Reid groans good-naturedly, then looks at Prentiss and Hotch.

"If you guys had waited another four months, Morgan would've owed me ten," he says, and the team can't help but laugh with him.