#said thoughtfully. yeah come to think of it there WAS something cute about the insane sadistic bank robbers

[sewerfight]

Nightfall dir. Jacques Tourneur

[firehousewithaview]

Hello! I woke up to my notifications absolutely swamped with likes and replies, so I used the absolute euphoria of that to finish this, which has been mocking me for the better part of a month in my drafts and was about to be abandoned. @ajunerose this is for you 

Cross posted to AO3

"Well?" Eddie demands, eyes flashing in a decidedly not human way. He's been tense since Buck walked in, but only now is he starting to feel defensive too. He's been steadily growing closer to snapping since it happened almost 24 hours ago, and Buck has had the audacity to spend the last exactly 22 minutes going through their normal kidless hang out routine. "Aren't you going to say something?"

"Oh uh," Buck starts, looking down at his plate then back to Eddie, bite still in his mouth and caught look on his face. "This is really good, Eds. Good call?"

The flat unimpressed look Eddie levels at him is probably sharper than usual, especially since Eddie's teeth have decided to join in on the 'decidedly inhuman' party. "Seriously, Buck?"

Buck's eyebrows are making a valiant attempt to join forces. It's absolutely adorable but Eddie always wants to smoothe it away because Buck once spent too long making that face and gave himself a headache. "I'm gonna need a little more to work with."

With a gesture to his now mostly sideburns face, Eddie huffs, "You saw me!"

"I..." Buck starts, a lost look on his face. "I see you every day?"

"No." Eddie growls back, closer to animal than human. "In the fire yesterday!"

Understanding dawn on Buck's face. "Oh!" He exhales, and Eddie thinks they're finally having the same conversation. "Nice save!"

Eddie thinks this must be what it feels like to be going insane. "Not that!" He's still gowling and Buck still isn't reacting to his best friend transforming into a werewolf at the kitchen table. "You saw me like this!"

"I mean, yeah?" He gestures to Eddie's face with his fork because he's still. Fucking. Eating. "It was kinda hard to miss."

What the actual fuck. "That's it?" Eddie demands, face returning to human. "That's all you have to say?"

"Am I... supposed to say something else?" Buck asks slowly, caught expression coming back, only this time suffused with guilt. Eddie had planned on this conversation going so many different ways, but somehow complete indifference wasnt one of them. "Did I mess up some sort of traditional thing? We can start over."

"Start ove-" Eddie sputters before accepting defeat. Obviously, he's underestimated Buck's ability ro roll with life altering revelations. "Okay, clearly my being a werewolf isn't a surprise to you, so I guess we're good." His food is getting cold, so he sits down to eat now that they're past... whatever that was.

"Oh," Buck's looking at him, dawning realization breaking across his face. "Eddie, I knew you were a werewolf like a year ago"

"What?"

"Yeah." He shrugs, taking another bite. "Your eyes flash when you sneeze."

"They do not!" Eddie defends. That's basic control stuff, he had that mastered before he was in school.

Buck hums. "Not always." He concedes, smiling fondly. "But a few times when you're still mostly asleep, they do. S'cute"

Oh God, his sisters can never know. "Fine, maybe they do." He grumbles, ears buring hot. Definitely from shame and definitely not because Buck said he's cute. "But there's a huge jump from flashing eyes to werewolf."

With a sigh, Buck puts his fork down, finally giving Eddie his full attention. "Eddie, I've met wolves before." He grins. "Actually, I've probably met more wolves than you."

Eddie snorts, spearing a dumpling with his claws. Just because he can, relishing in the fact that he doesn't have to hide from Buck anymore. Or appearently he hadn't needed to. "Kinda doubt that."

"First off, rude." Buck grumbles, but goes back to his food. "Most of the guys I worked with at the ranch were wolves." He pauses, chewing thoughtfully. "Actually, I think was the only human most of the time."

Eddie squints at him. "You worked on a werewolf run ranch in the middle of Montana." He can't even find it in him to be surprised anymore. The total lack of reaction to his revelation has left the conversation feeling surreal. "Of course you did." He sighs, taking a bite. "Well since you're all caught up on werewolves, I'm declaring this a date."

There's a moment where he can tell Buck clearly hasn't actually processed what he just said because he just nods along. Eddie actually witnesses in real time the journey his words take along Buck's brain as he freezes. "Wh-what?"

"The last barrier I had was being of a different species and hiding it." Eddie shrugs, leaning back in his chair to get far enough from the food so he might catch a whiff of Buck's scent. His face is flipping through emotions too fast now for Eddie to catch. "So unless you have something else...?"

Buck, for lack of a better word, blanks out for a moment, face going entirely slack, before flushing from collar to the roots of his hair. "You're telling me," he growls in a fairly impressive imitation of a werewolf, "that if I had,-" He gestures widely, missing his own water cup by a hair. "- I don't know, made a dog joke or something to let you know I know your furry secret, we could have been dating this whole time?"

"I mean, yeah, on my end."

Out of nowhere, Buck pushes to his feet, toppling his chair behind him as he scrambles to the other side of the table. Eddie just watches, confused but too happy to stop Buck from doing whatever he's set his mind to.

"Then I'm going to kiss you now." He declares, scooting Eddie's chair out just enough for Buck to climb in his lap. "And then for the rest of the night too. For, you know, reparations or something."

Eddie lets out a hum, only a little lower than a human's and Buck tips his chin back. "Or something." He grins, playfully sliding his fangs out. Just because he can now. And maybe just to see how Buck reacts.

Of course the man just sees his fangs as the perfect invite to kiss him.

Because sometimes, when it really really matters, Eddie gets lucky like that.

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (1/?)

This is dedicated to @peachworthy - my plan is to work on this when I can. I was going to try and write a full long thing (all puns intended) but thought it might be fun to just do sporadic bits instead!

“As you can see, it’s a pretty nice place…” Mr. Super Tall and Super Handsome and Super-Out-of-Link’s-League tells him as he walks him around the place. Link’s only been half listening because he’s been trailing behind this uniquely sexy giraffe of a man for about half an hour now and it’s been hard to not just…eat him up with his eyes.

Link’s lived in LA for about two years now and while he’s seen some attractive people, they all pale in comparison to…

…oh gosh, he’s forgotten his name again! Not a good thing to do when being toured by your potential roommate to be. Although Link’s pretty sure his current tour guide is just being nice.

No way he’s seriously considering letting Link move in. First of all, Link is a late in life college student trying to get a film degree. Second, this guy could have anyone live with him.

Anyone.

The fact he even needs a roommate is staggering. After all, this place is already furnished. It’s clear he’s lived here for a while now – so the need for someone else-? Link doesn’t get it.

But he sure as heck can’t stay on campus anymore. It’s embarrassing. Most of the other students there think he’s a professor as it is; and bunking with kids half his age has been a nightmare.

Not because he can’t identify with them per say, but because he just-? He wants to interact with people on the same wavelength as him.

And no way is this Greek God and he on the same wavelength. No doubt the guy’s an actor. Almost everyone in LA is. And, no doubt, the guy has probably had some gigs. Several, if the house is anything to go by…

Maybe he lost a role recently? Maybe that’s why he needs the extra income? It’s the only thing Link can think of and he’s stupid enough to voice that, “It is a nice place, man, but I don’t see how I’ll be much help. What you’ve got here looks pretty well lived in. Take it you’ve been here solo for some time and I’m not sure how-?”

“I have,” Handsome admits and oh, that southern drawl. It makes Link think of home. How perfect can one man be? “And, frankly, I don’t need a roommate, but I’d like a roommate.”

“For parts? Like the Black Market?” Link can’t help but joke, and the guy throws his head back and laughs and oh, no…

…Yeah, Link can’t live with this man. It hasn’t even been a full day and Link is practically already in love with him. And thinking of the ‘him’ he forces himself to sheepishly ask, “Um, I, ah, forgot your name again...”

“It’s Rhett.”

Of course it is.

Rhett is such a romantic name.

Rhett Butler immediately springs to mind and Link sighs, “Look, Rhett – like I said, it is a nice place, but-!”

“I tell you what I’d expect in rent?” he asks and when he lists the price, Link decides that – besides being insanely attractive – that the guy is just insane in general.

The rent is cheap. Far, far cheaper than Link expected and it must show on his face, because Rhett shrugs, “Look, Link – I can’t say what it is, but I gotta feeling about you. I’ve met with a couple of potential roommates and, honestly, none of them have gone this far. I haven’t let ‘em. But there’s something about you…”

“My natural charm?” Link asks, but he’s sort of giggly and weird when he does and oh, gosh – why is he so awkward? Isn’t he too old for this? Don’t you reach a certain age and awkwardness just…drops off?

But apparently not and, apparently, Rhett isn’t turned off by it, because he gives him a warm grin, “Might be.”

“Rhett…”

“Might be the accent to be honest,” he confesses, seeming almost shy and that should be illegal, because it just highlights how cute he is, “I’m from North Carolina and it just-!”

“Hey!” Link perks up, “Me too!”

“Really?” Rhett gushes and Link nods, “Yeah, Buies Creek.”

“Oh! My family and I almost moved there! Ended up in Charlotte instead!”

“Wow! Crazy! What are the odds!” And Link hates every cliched thing coming out of his mouth right now, but he can’t seem to stop and Rhett just looks so damned pleased.

As if his feeling about Link is right on the money and Link wishes it was, but this can’t possibly work. Can it? And just as Link is about to voice that, Rhett suddenly looks…apprehensive. Fidgety.

And Link’s caught a bit off guard by it, because – up until now – he’s been so cool. Cool and collected. But now Rhett runs a hand through his thick mane of hair and sighs as if a great weight is upon him, “Ah…actually, I, ah, well – I forgot…”

Here it is. Link’s been waiting for this. The big secret. The big reason someone as amazing as Rhett would need someone like him. Maybe it is the Black Market thing. Link has some nice organs. Real juicy. Maybe revealing his background has made the big guy feel bad – like he can’t carve up a fellow North Caroliner.

Rhett rocks on his heels, “I told you, none of the other potential roommates made it this far and…there’s a reason for that. Even the one or two I kinda considered…well, I, um, I told them what I do for a living and that’s when things sort of fell apart…”

…oh shit. He IS a Black Market organ dealer!

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he looks around skittishly. The house is big and they’re alone in it. He’s been so distracted by how hot Rhett is that he hasn't even thought about that fact.

Until now.

What if the other potentials didn’t get this far because they got cut up beforehand? Maybe the whole roommate thing is a farce! Maybe it’s a con! A con to draw people in and-!

“I work in the entertainment industry.”

Link blinks. Blinks and feels like the dumbest man on planet earth as he says, “Well, yeah. You and half of LA. Heck, I’m here trying to get into film myself! Do some directing or sound editing or-!”

“No,” Rhett says firmly, smoothly, meeting Link’s eyes head on as he says in a full deep register, “When I say I work in the industry, I mean it. I’ve, um, had a pretty healthy and…and long career…”

“Really?” Link asks, eyes wide behind his glasses, “Have I seen anything you’ve-?”

“Doubt it,” Rhett interrupts with a humorless huff, “You don’t seem the type. But then,” he eyes him thoughtfully, “I’ve been surprised before…”

Link doesn’t know why he’s being so cagey about this, “What’ve you-?”

“My resume is…” Rhett finally looks away, as if he can’t bear to look at Link when he says it, “…of the adult variety.”

“The adult-?” Link starts to repeat and then it clicks. It clicks and it hits him so hard over the head it’s like a physical blow. The house, the handsomeness – the…everything.

Rhett looks back at him, jaw firmly set as he speaks, “Look, it’s not that I’m ashamed of what I do. Far from it. It’s just a job and it’s one I happen to be good at. But it’s also one that people in polite society aren’t too keen on and considering you’re from my home state you might-!”

“Porn?” Link croaks out and he feels a little like he might faint, “You’re a porn star?”

Rhett just kind of shrugs and the reason Link feels lightheaded has nothing to do with his shock at the man’s career and everything to do with the fact that Link has only seen a few porn films and none of them have ever stared someone so breathtakingly beautiful. The idea that Rhett has been in something like that…

Heat suffuses through Link’s system with equal mixes of lust and shame. Lust because, well, look at Rhett and shame because Link doesn’t want to just view the man as a sex object, Granted, that’s kind of his job, but it just seems…rude.

While Link doesn’t know Rhett well, he knows him well enough at this point to say he’s just a regular guy. An extremely gorgeous regular guy, but a regular guy all the same.

Thinking of him in simple black and white just doesn’t do him justice. So he’s a porn star. So what? He’s nice and this place is amazing and the rent suggested is fantastic and-!

“Take it by your silence you’re gonna decline…”

“No!” Link cuts in quickly and Rhett’s eyes shoot to him, wide and amazed, and Link feels a little sense of superiority at that. At catching this giant off guard, “No, uh – your…your profession isn’t a problem.”

“It’s not?”

“Well, I mean,” Link looks around once more, "You don’t-? You don’t film here, do you?”

The laugh that booms out of Rhett at that makes Link’s toes curl with pleasure, “Nah, man. This place is sacred. Like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”

“And…” Link scratches at the back of his head, “And you won’t, like���bring over a-a partner or partners and-!”

“Don’t have one,” Rhett admits and then the sexiest crinkles form around his eyes, “Although I gotta say, that’s about the slickest way anyone’s ever asked me if I was single…”

The heat from before returns full blast, no doubt coloring Link’s cheeks pure red and it comes completely from shyness, an emotion he is much more familiar with than most, “Oh, no! I-I wasn’t-!”

“Think you were asking if I do some weird sex shit here in the house of the personal variety and, again, no. You work in my field you kinda lose a bit of a taste for it.”

“For sex?”

Rhett nods, “And for a lot of things. It’s like I said – I'd like a roommate. Mainly ‘cause I’ve been feeling a little…disconnected of late. Feel like I need someone in my life who isn’t in the business. Someone I can just, y��know…” his shoulders roll and he bobs about a bit, clearly bashful, “…jam with.”

“Someone on your wavelength…” Link whispers and suddenly, Rhett’s idea that Link might be someone worth keeping around feels totally legitimate. Because Link is suddenly reciprocating it and then some. Because Link's starting to have a feeling about him too.

A feeling that this could work.

It really could.

And, this in mind, Link asks, “When can I move in?”

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ships: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong; wizard!yunho x demon!jongho, pirate!yeosang x mermaid!soojin x pirate!mingi (implied)

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, fantasy, humour, romance

author’s note: i can’t believe this is over omg?!?! im legit bawling my eyes out rn 😭😭 i hope you guys like the end of pirate kings because i poured my entire heart into it! 💖💖 also be on the lookout for take me home, aurora, one day at a time and promise references hehe 🌅 🌅 thank you for going on this journey across the seas with me!

warnings: some swearing, mentions of drowning & torture, bittersweet (?) ending

word count: 2.6k

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter four ☠️ chapter five ☠️chapter six ☠️ chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight ☠️ chapter nine ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ spotify playlist

🔮🔮🔮

Yunho's POV

My genius plan was that I would become more powerful than Jongho himself. So powerful that he wouldn't even be capable of taking my soul. So powerful that he wouldn’t even dare to try. Little did I know that as I shared my idea with Seonghwa, a certain someone was conveniently listening. Little did I know how this giant mess I'd created will play out...

Once Seonghwa was reassured that I would be perfectly safe despite the deal I had made with Jongho, he left me to my own devices. No sooner had I teleported myself back to my lighthouse than Jongho appeared out of nowhere, visibly angry. But there was something else in his expression. Something I couldn't quite define. Not yet, at least.

"How much of it did you hear?" I asked, already prepared for the worst.

"All of it," Jongho scoffed.

"Regardless," I spoke confidently. "Even if you do know what I'm planning, you can't stop me. You already know how much potential I have. Or else, you wouldn't have agreed to this deal. I'm right, no?"

Jongho shook his head.

"Your silly little plan won't work, wizard."

"Really?" I smiled, because I knew my own abilities better than he did. I was absolutely certain I could beat him. "And why is that?" I inquired, out of curiosity. He didn't scare me. Just...intrigued me.

"Because I never intended to take your soul, you fool."

Now, that was something I didn't expect to hear.

Jongho had somehow managed to catch me unprepared.

"W-what do you mean?"

"You know why I'm stealing so many souls?" I was about to open my mouth but Jongho wasn't having it. "Ah-ah, just let me finish. I know what you think. I know what everyone thinks. But it's an act. Apparently, I was too good an actor and completely fooled everyone, didn't I? The reason I've been collecting souls is not because I want to be more powerful than the devil. It's because I don't have one myself."

"H-huh?" I whispered in confusion. "Jongho, I don't understand..."

He placed a finger on my lips and I felt compelled to just...listen. Hear him out.

"But ever since I met you, I've felt...different. Like I could be more than just a demon making deals. Like I could matter."

I was too shocked to say anything so I just stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. And then he continued:

"What good would taking your soul do when you're the very reason I might be growing a soul in the first place?"

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" I had to make sure.

"I know it's fucking insane and you’re supposed to be my sworn enemy or whatever but—"

This time, I couldn't let him finish his sentence and interrupted him with my lips on his. To my absolute dismay, he was kissing me back with as much vigour as I was. As much vigour as he put into challenging me and getting on my nerves and frustrating the living hell out of me. As much vigour as I knew only he was capable of.

"I thought this was impossible," I mumbled against his lips once I broke away from the kiss.

"So did I. But do you want me to tell you how I know it's real?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything else.

"Because when you look at me, I no longer feel the urge to torture you for eternity."

"I should feel flattered, I suppose," I joked.

"It's up to you how you feel, wizard," Jongho replied. "And up to me to continue making you feel this way."

"The terrifying Jongho — a hopeless romantic. Who would have thought?" I teased him relentlessly.

"It's not too late for me to change my mind and snatch your soul."

"You greedy little thing. My heart isn't good enough for you?"

"Your heart?" Jongho chuckled and wrapped his arms around my neck. "It's mine now."

☠️☠️☠️

Yeosang's POV

The more time I spent around Mingi, the more I could see how much he'd changed for the better. And how much he was about to continue changing. Despite everything that had gone down in the past, I was feeling incomprehensibly drawn to him. And I wanted to be there for him. I knew that it would take some time for the rest of the crew to get used to Mingi being out of his cell. But I was determined to give him a chance. And convince the rest of them, it was a chance worth taking. Especially my dear Soojin...

"Sangie, he literally kidnapped us and left us without water for a week!" she reasoned.

"I know. I'm not making any excuses for—"

"And he cut off your hand! Your hand, Yeosang!" she reminded me needlessly. As if I could forget.

"Like I said, I'm not going to justify Mingi's actions. All I'm asking is that you give him another chance. He's been showing remorse. And I truly believe that if the circumstances had been different, he wouldn't have behaved the way that he did."

Soojin sighed, unsure of what to say.

"People aren't born evil," I insisted. "Everyone makes choices. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. What matters is what we do to fix the bad ones."

"Yeosang...I really want to do as you say, but it just sounds so difficult, okay?"

"I'm literally a pirate, sweetheart," I rolled my eyes. "If you don't hold it against me, I don't see a problem. Mingi's not exactly the villain he's painted himself to be."

Soojin nodded thoughtfully.

"Alright. You have a point. I'll give him a chance. One chance and that's it. If he fucks up again, I'm taking him to the depths of the sea myself."

"I suppose that's fair," I shrugged. "You heard that, Mingi?"

"Loud and clear," he grinned, a couple of metres away from us.

"He was right there the whole time?!" Soojin hiss-whispered in disbelief. "This is so embarrassing."

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you've chickened out and those were just empty threats," Mingi winked at her.

She physically shuddered and I couldn't help but laugh. So cute.

"Relax, Soojin. Mingi's our friend now. Aren't you?" I asked.

"If you want me to be," he scratched the back of his head a bit awkwardly.

"Come here, let's play cards," I suggested casually. "Loser gets to swim with the sharks."

"There are no sharks in this sea," Soojin pointed out confidently.

"Yeosang wasn't talking about actual sharks," Mingi correctly guessed. "He meant that I would have to go talk to Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Because, obviously, I'm terrible at cards and I would definitely lose the game. And these two are scarier than bloody sharks."

Soojin rolled her eyes.

"Pirates and their stupid way of talking."

"You get used to it," I playfully nudged her arm.

"There's no escape now."

"Let's skip the game," Mingi suggested. "I'll just go talk to the sharks right now and beg for mercy or whatever."

"We'll come with. Right, Soojin?" I offered.

"Like I have a choice," she groaned but I could tell that she was gradually warming up to the idea of letting Mingi stick around.

"Thanks, guys. I appreciate the moral support," Mingi blushed.

"I guess you could say...I'll be your right hand," I stared at the hook replacing my missing hand and snickered sarcastically. Mingi and Soojin were beyond mortified by my dark sense of humour. "Too soon?"

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong's POV

"I mean...we already had dealings with a demon and a wizard so I don't see how Mingi could pose a threat," I reasoned. "No offense, Mingi."

"None taken," he smiled.

"So, you're going to let him stay? Unguarded?" Seonghwa wanted to know.

"Let him stay — yes. Unguarded — no. If you're so insistent he's changed, you'll have to take full responsibility. You think you can handle that, Yeosang?" I posed the serious question.

"I've got this, Cap," Yeosang promised.

"I'll be around, too," Soojin vowed. "You don't have to worry, Cap."

I nodded in agreement. Seonghwa seemed to be on board with the idea. Honestly, after all the shit we'd been through with that demon, Mingi was the least of my concerns. But of course, I couldn't say that directly. So I had to play the "responsible leader worried for his crew" card. And apparently, I played it well.

"Wow, this went better than expected," I could hear Mingi whispering to Yeosang, as they were walking away. Seonghwa and I exchanged an amused look.

"Shh, we just caught him in a good mood," Yeosang explained carefully. "Be nice and he might let you stay for good."

"Guys, be quiet!" Soojin warned them. Clever mermaid, I told myself and grinned. Speaking of mermaids...

"Not so fast!" Y/N ordered them to stop. And so they did. Rightaway. Made me wonder who was the real Captain of this ship. Not that I minded her taking away some of my responsibilities. I even liked it.

"Yes?" Yeosang seemed kinda nervous.

"Make sure you treat my sister well. Both of you!" Y/N commanded them easily. "Or else...I'll have no problem letting the siren out to deal with you. And she's not someone you want to mess with. Ask Hongjoong."

The shock on my face was not at all exaggerated as I nodded to confirm her words.

"She'll be safe with us, Y/N," Yeosang made a pledge. "Right, Mingi?"

"Um, yeah, what he said."

"You don't sound very convincing," Y/N eyed him suspiciously.

Damn, I had to admit I was proud of her and how much she'd grown.

"Oh, let him go this time, will you?" I pulled her aside gently and she couldn't find it in herself to argue. Once Yeosang, Soojin and Mingi had taken their leave, she removed her "intimidating siren" mask and was back to her usual, gentle self I knew and loved.

"You guys think we made the right call?"

"It'll be fine," I was fairly certain. "If push comes to shove, Yunho will just help us out again, right?"

"As if he doesn't have enough problems with that demon," Y/N argued. "We can't continue using him for our needs."

"Yeah...about that," Seonghwa started.

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa's POV

As I was telling them about Yunho and Jongho's change in dynamics, Hongjoong and Y/N were too taken aback to react with anything else but by opening their mouths. Which was, to say the least, quite adorable of them.

"So...these two...?" Y/N asked as if to confirm what I'd just finished recounting.

"Mhm," I grinned.

"Wow," Hongjoong managed.

"I know."

"This is good news, yes? It means both Hongjoong and Yunho get to keep their souls," Y/N wanted to make sure it was indeed real.

"I mean, demons can be pretty unpredictable but judging from Yunho's happy expression when I last talked to him, I'm willing to be hopeful for once," I explained. "We've had enough trouble as it is, don't you think? We deserve something good to happen to us."

"Couldn't agree more," Hongjoong grabbed my hand and Y/N's. "But I get what she means. After all the dangers we've experienced, it just seems so unbelievable that we're finally safe."

"Too good to be true, eh?" Y/N sighed. "Let's enjoy this while we can."

"I think this one will last a bit longer," I smiled knowingly.

"Hey, don't jinx it," Hongjoong squeezed my hand softly.

"Just trust me, alright?" I looked at them both.

"I do."

"As do I."

"And I'm gonna catch you when you fall or when you're sinking," I murmured.

"I think I speak from experience when I say I'm the one more likely to save a pirate from drowning," Y/N poked fun at us.

"I was just trying to sound poetic," I pouted.

"And we appreciate the effort," Hongjoong reassured me. "But she's right."

"You two turning against me? Oh, how the tables have turned!" I announced dramatically.

"Don't pretend you don't like it," Y/N ran a hand through my hair and tilted her head towards Hongjoong. "He likes it, doesn't he, Cap?"

"I bet he does."

"Hey, Y/N. My eyes are up here," I reminded her.

"Oh, I know," she blinked, feigning innocence.

"Too bad I can't even be mad at you," I chuckled.

"Why be mad when you can be rad?" Hongjoong interjected.

"That was so terrible," I groaned. "You're lucky I love you."

"Both of us?" Y/N asked hopefully.

"Unfortunately," I admitted.

"Guess we'll have to work harder to turn that into a fortunately," Y/N teased. "Wait, my bad. I forgot you two already have a wholeass fortune in the form of a bunch of treasure chests."

"Is that why you like us?" Hongjoong teased. "Who knew mermaids could be golddiggers?"

"I'll show you a golddigger!" Y/N threatened and started chasing Hongjoong around the ship. They were so childish sometimes...

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

Reader's POV

You could tell that you had a couple of more minutes left until your siren-like side rose to the surface so you decided to enjoy them. As you were watching the sun setting, you couldn't help but recall your very first memories of Seonghwa and Hongjoong. What started as a simple joke, Hongjoong throwing Seonghwa overboard, followed by you saving Seonghwa from a whirlpool, had turned into so much more. It was funny how life often surprised you in the most unexpected ways. How a few months ago, if anyone asked you about pirates (and humans, in general), you would have scoffed distastefully. If anyone asked Seonghwa about mermaids, he would have still been haunted by the loss of Ariel. If anyone asked Hongjoong, he would have said mermaids spelled nothing but danger. And now...Now, the three of you had become so different. And in a way, so similar. Forgetting all these labels that once used to define you and just finding happiness in each other. In the adventures you'd had together. In the shared feeling of being trusted, feeling known. And loved. It was even funnier how you didn't find it strange at all. On the contrary, it felt perfectly natural that you were here. Made perfect sense that you had a home with Seonghwa and Hongjoong. A former prince, a pirate king and a lost but now found mermaid. You wouldn't have it any other way.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" you said out loud, sensing Seonghwa's presence beside you.

"Yes, it is," Seonghwa replied, looking at you.

"I have to go soon."

"But you'll be back in the morning. As usual."

You simply smiled. It went without saying.

"I wish I could stay the night," you whispered longingly. "Fall asleep in your arms."

"You could. I know you'll be able to control your powers. I'm sure Hongjoong will agree with me."

"I probably could control them. But I don't mind going back to my home in the night. Even though...this is also my home. Does it make sense?"

"I believe it does," Seonghwa rubbed calming circles on your palm. "Just like how you have a human and mermaid self, you also have two homes."

You nodded.

"Exactly."

"In a way, I feel the same. Both you and Hongjoong are my homes."

You rested your forehead against his.

"And we will always be your homes, Hwa."

"Don't go," he murmured against your skin. "I don't want to be alone anymore. Every night."

"You're not alone anymore. You have Hongjoong. And me. And I will be back with the first light of day."

"Promise?"

"I promise you, Seonghwa. Even if the whole world ends, I will always find my way back to you."

The end

[coconutstars]

Right people at the wrong time p.IV

Part I | Part II | Part III 

Pairing: Stiles + reader   Prompt: Perhaps, we were the right people at the wrong time Summary: Reader and Stiles finally get to talk things out and figure out if they are, finally, the right people at the right time (of course they are, I’m not cruel) A/N: HELLO, HOLA, BONJOUR. This is it. This is the thrilling conclusion. It’s long, it’s cute and every chic-lit lovers dream. Fair warning, it’s not proofed at all so be ready for some mess- ups here and there. I did my best. Hope y’all aren’t too disappointed! Thank you for all the kind comments on the other parts, they’ve warmed my heart so much. Anywho, enjoy my lovely friends.  ♡

[ :: ]

“So… are we just not going to talk about you and Stiles?” Kira was laying on your bed, flat on her stomach, supporting herself on her elbows. Her eyes were practically twinkling with curiosity. It was the end of your first week and the two of you were cooped up in your room, eating chips straight out of the bag with a sappy soundtrack playing in the background. With a sigh, you lifted your gaze from the toenail you were painting. You could tell the curiosity as to why Stiles and you had been avoiding each other like the plague was eating Kira alive.

“It’s…” you began, searching for the right words to describe the situation. You really wanted to tell Kira about Stiles but where would you even begin? It wasn’t as simple as just ‘we had a fight two years ago’. There was so much more to it. Explaining it all would take time, and a lot of energy. It would mean having to tap into old feelings, insecurities and heartaches and you just weren’t sure you could deal with that right now. “Complicated?” Kira asked, interrupting your train of thought. Your lips curved into a soft smile. “Something like that”   Kira let out a breath and rolled over on her back. “Yeah, I’d know a thing or two about that” “Oh?” you questioned, pulling your knees up to your chest. “It’s Scott” she exhaled loudly. “I don’t really know where we stand” You nodded thoughtfully. You’d sensed that there was something between Kira and Scott. They’d get… mushy when they were around each other. Kira would get all flushed and Scott’s gaze would always linger just a little too long in her direction. “I mean not that we’re…we’re not dating or anything, or I mean, I don’t know if we are… it’s all confusing and when we’re talking” Kira stammered. “Hey” you interrupted calmly “Don’t worry, I get it” Kira let out a breath of relief and rolled over on her stomach again. Her eyes met yours and she curved her lips into at silent conclusion. “Complicated” You nodded in conformation, your smile mimicking hers. “Complicated” [ :: ]

“Uh… Apparently there’s a party going on” Kira exclaimed in the middle of the romcom you were watching. She angled her phone towards you so you could read the words on the illuminated screen.

From: Scott Received 9.42 pm. Hey I know it’s late but there’s a party at Danny’s. You coming?

You lifted you gaze to meet Kira’s. “You wanna…go?” she questioned slowly, biting down on her lip. You knew she wanted to; her body language practically scream it. You suspected it had something to do with the opportunity to be close to Scott. “Uh...” you made an indifferent gesture with your hand. “yeah sure” you said with a pressed smile. Truth was you’d rather stay home. You wouldn’t really know anyone at the party except for Kira and you really didn’t want to be third wheeling it with her and Scott, especially if they were trying to figure out their “are we or aren’t we” situation. So while they did that, you’d probably end up squeezed in on a couch between some passed out kid and a couple making out. Great. Kira must have sensed your unwillingness because she suddenly got up on her knees. “I mean-“ her voice was anxious “we don’t have to! Seriously! I love what we’re doing…” she stressed. You felt bad. If Kira had the chance to… evolve or clarify her feelings for Scott, you didn’t want to be the one to stand in her way. “Kira” you began with a calm smile. “It’s fine, I want to go” Her entire face lit up in a smile. “Really!? Cool” she jumped off the bed and started pacing like she didn’t know where to start or what to do. “Wait” she suddenly said, her smile fading. “I don’t really…”. She looked down at her leggings and zipped hoodie. “Don’t worry” you grinned “I got you”

[ :: ]

Stiles POV

It was crazy how often he thought of her. He wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. It wasn’t as simple as just walking up to her and going ‘hey sorry for being a dick two years ago’. He needed to show her he meant it but how was he supposed to do that when he could barely even look at her without the guilt taking over. Hell, just being near her fucked him up. His hands would get sweaty, his pulse would rise, and his ability to get out a coherent sentence would momentarily non-exist.

Once again, Stiles eyes searched the crowded room hoping to catch even a glimpse of Y/N, but she was nowhere to be seen. All he could see was a bunch of kids playing beer bong over a trashed kitchen table, a guy from the team puking in a corner while his friend filmed it with their phones and a girl from English making out with a guy who wasn’t her boyfriend.

“She left ten minutes ago” a familiar voice declared. Scott appeared beside him, red solo cup in hand. Stiles considered playing dumb but knew there was no point. Scott was his best friend and brother; he didn’t have to be inside his head to know what he was thinking. Besides, he’d been picking up on his emotions all week. “I’m not sure she wants to talk to me” Stiles answered truthfully “Wouldn’t be so sure of it, man” Stiles let out a deep sigh. “I wouldn’t even know what to say” Scott curved his lips into a crooked grin.

“Then figure it out”

[ .. ]

Y/N POV You’d convinced Kira to stay at the party. Not that it took a lot of effort. Scott and her had been talking non-stop ever since the two of you walked through the door. You on the other hand had been hit on by some drunk guy in a Hawaii shirt, offered molly from a girl who looked like she went to Sunday school and had your favorite top ruined by a freshman with shaky hands. He’d apologized and offered to have it dry-cleaned but everyone knew beer stains were textile hell, even for professionals.

Slipping into a pair of printed sweat shorts and a hoodie, you tied your hair into a messy bun and made your way to the kitchen. You hadn’t eaten anything besides the bag of chips you’d shared with Kira. You’d planned on ordering pizza but got to busy getting ready for the party.

Raiding through the fridge you realized pretty quickly your parents hadn’t stocked the fridge before leaving for their “healing retreat” this weekend. It was some stupid trip their therapist had advised them to take every month to “heal the hole” in their marriage.

Closing the fridge, you grabbed a box of cereal with way too much sugar and made your way over to the couch. Taking a few seconds to flip through the different titles on Netflix, you ultimately settled on some new original series and watched passively while digging your hand into the box.

Getting back up, you were just about to grab something to drink when there was a knock on the door.

Shit.

Shit

Shit.

What the hell was Stiles doing here?

Full of panic, you stood in the hallway like a moron, chewing the mouth full of sugary flakes you’d stuffed your face with only seconds earlier. Why. WHY did he have to show up the one night you’d chosen to wear the shorts with fricken mermaids and seashells on them!? For a moment you considered pretending not to be home but realized pretty quickly that you couldn’t. The lights were on and your car was in the driveway. Besides, a part of you was kind of curious as to why he was at you house 11 p.m. on a Friday night when there was a party going on. 

Running your hand over your mouth, you sure to get rid of any crumbs or powdered sugar before opening the door.

“Y/N!” Stiles exclaimed, almost surprised. He’d been running a hand anxiously through his hair but moved it towards you when you appeared in the doorway. “You’re…You’re here” You furrowed your brow; you were determined to act cool even though there was a storm of emotions raging inside you. “Yeah… I kind of live here” you said, going to fold your arms over your chest only to realize you were still holding the cereal box in your hand. Sigh. For once. Could someone give you a goddamn break

Stiles shifted his gaze and started flexing and unflexing his hands. “yeah, no, course” he cleared his throat. There was a moment of silence between you.

“so, you’re uh… probably wondering why I am here” Stiles said with a nervous chuckle. You nodded slightly; lips pressed together. You still couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few seconds.

Stiles cleared his throat again. Seems his plan of action only stretched as far as showing up at your house. “Yeah, so I came to say that…are you… eating that out of the box?” Stiles asked, nodding towards the cereal. “Yeah, so?” you asked defensively. “It’s dry” “I happen to not like milk” Stiles furrowed his brow. “What? You used to love milk? You literally drank like half a gallon when Melissa baked those fudge cookies for Scotts twelfth birthday” You remembered that party. You and Stiles were the only ones that came.

“Please, it was hardly half a gallon and I only drank it” you began, suddenly lowering your tone to a whisper “because those cookies were dry” You were acting as if Melissa was around the corner at risk of hearing you bash her baking skills.

“They were well-baked” Stiles whispered back. “More like burnt. They were literally black Stiles” For a moment it was like the two of you were kids again, sitting in Stiles room, discussing which superhero was the strongest. Stiles eyes searched yours and for the first time since seeing each other again, none of you looked away. “I’m sorry” Stiles mumbled softly. It was strange, and insanely cliché, but something inside you seemed to happen when he uttered those words. You wouldn’t call it heal but it was definitely along those lines.

“For what?”

The muscles in Stile’s jaw flexed. “everything” You looked down for a moment. Stile’s voice was low, and you could tell by his tone that he was being genuine. “I didn’t mean it” he continued. “I was mad, and…” he threw up a hand before letting it fall again “I snapped. I shouldn’t have but I did. But none of it meant anything”. “It’s fine, I get it. I shouldn’t have said those things about Lydia..especially since the two of actually....” For a moment it looked like Stiles had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. “Oh” he said as the realization hit. “Oh no, no me and Lydia aren’t... we’re friends. No, you were right about us” He paused for a moment. “My feelings, what I felt for Lydia...It wasn’t-” he searched for the right words. “Real. I made this, I had this idea of who she, of who I...” he shook his head. “anyway it doesn’t matter. What does though is that I never should have said the things I did. I ruined everything and...” He looked at you with such an intensity you wanted to look away but forced yourself not to. 

“I’m sorry” You leaned your body against the doorframe. You hadn’t realized how much you’d craved an apology until you got one. Suddenly it was like your hurt and anger didn’t matter as much as it used to. Perhaps it was the raging crush or mere wishful thinking, but you believed him. Believed him when he said he hadn’t mean it. A part of you must have always known, or at least hoped, that your friendship had been to real to not have meant something to him.

Your tone was low and soft. “It’s okay”

Stiles shook his head. “No, it’s not. But I’m going to make it up to you. I’ll do...”

You had a feeling the sentence was going to end with something along the lines of ‘I’ll do anything to fix our friendship’ or something equally as cheesy and you had to stop him. Not because it would be awkward as hell but because he needed to know you still had a crush on him and that being friends probably wasn’t the right way to go. You wish you could handle a friendship, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t be around with him without being with him. Your heart ached for him and knowing he didn’t want you in the same way you wanted him made it impossible to be near him. 

“Stiles…” you began, creasing your forehead. “I don’t think we can be friends” Your words clearly took him by surprise. “What? Why? Is it because?... I mean is it because of what I said? I swear, I really didn’t…” “It’s because I’m still love with you” you blurted. There was a moment of instant regret and you could feel every fiber of your body wanting to slam the door in his face, dive into bed and hide under the covers for the next few years.

Stiles stood there looking at you for what felt like hours. You sucked in a breath, feeling the panic in your chest “So… yeah that’s why and…”. Warm hands found their way to your cheeks and before you had a chance to finish your sentence, Stiles had pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours. It took a few seconds but when you were finally able to wrap your head around what was happening, a rush of ecstasy ran through you and you eagerly kissed him back. 

“Stiles” you whispered after a while. You didn’t want to end the kiss but knew you had to. Stiles, however seemed to have other plans and started trailing his lips down your jaw down to your neck. 

“Stiles, I’m literally standing on my front porch, dressed in mermaid shorts, holding a box of Frosties”

With a laugh Stiles pulled back. “Yeah, I meant to comment on those mermaids” he said. Rolling your eyes, you turned around to walk back into the house.   Stiles arms instantly found their way to your waist and he pressed you to him as he walked behind you. “What? I was going to say there are very fashional” “It’s fashionable, and I know” you said, not being able to hold back your smile. It was insane.

Seems like the two of you were finally the right people at the right time. 

Taglist: @loulouloueh

[mobagehelllocal]

“do you even lift bro?” ver iii - leech twins, jamil, epel, rook and lilia

Your headcanons for the fem reader bridal carrying the guys were GOLD! Can I request the same for Lilia, Jade, Floyd, Jamil, Divus, Epel and Rook? Thank you! -- from @shenanigansposts

A/N: It’s here! It’s back! It’s “do you even lift bro?”! Honestly, I’m still stunned at the response this series gets xD anyways. I’m sorry I’ve gotten slower on updates, but I don’t want to write with any negativity in my heart. I want to enjoy writing, because otherwise I know my pieces will show that. Creative works truly reflect the mood of the writer, so I try to always be in my happy place when I write so that these can be fun! ^^ 

Please do enjoy!

other versions: ver i (dorm leaders), ver ii (dire, divus, ashton), ver iii (this)

--

Jade’s head jerked up as you rushed into the infirmary.

“Jade! Are you okay?” you scrambled over to him in worry.

“Hello flower.” he greeted, quite cheerful, despite the fact that his ankle was in a cast. “I’m quite well really.”

You shot a look at his ankle--before you turned to the school nurse. The school nurse gave you a patient smile as they explained what happened. 

“He didn’t break anything. He just twisted it from climbing that mountain today...” The nurse eyed your lover. “in search of mushrooms.”

“I was very successful.” Jade nodded sagely. “Mostro Lounge’s menu will be full with them. Flower, I insist you try them.” You tried to give him a stern look, but his genuine appreciation for mushrooms (of all things! mushrooms!) caused your lips twitch up into a smile.

“So does this mean he doesn’t need to stay in the infirmary?” 

“He doesn’t.” the nurse confirmed. “Unfortunately we currently don’t have any crutches, and Mr. Leech is adamant about not flying--if you could call his brother perhaps? Or Mr. Ashengrotto.” the nurse suggested.

“It’s fine, I can handle it.” you waved a dismissive hand. The nurse arched a brow, and Jade shot you a curious glance--mind finally off mushrooms. 

“Just... make sure he doesn’t put any pressure on his foot.” The nurse said, “we’ll be sending crutches over to his dorm by tonight... or tomorrow afternoon at the latest. I can write you a slip that will allow you to skip some of your morning classes.”

The nurse quickly filled up a form, and you stopped in front of Jade. Your boyfriend eyed you in interest.

“How are you planning on helping me, flower? Floyd or Azul...” 

“It’s fine.” you said dismissively again. “I’ll show you in a bit.” The nurse handed you the note, and you easily leaned forward, and slipped it into Jade’s pocket. (”Don’t lose that!” “Yes, madam~” he had chuckled, and you flushed.) You huffed, and before he could even blink--you easily pulled him up into your arms bridal style. Jade’s eyes widened, and the nurse shrieked in surprise.

“Wait! Put him down!” the nurse squeaked.

“Oh it’s fine. Jade’s actually pretty light.” you shrugged, and with a glance the nurse did notice that you showed no signs of strain. 

“If you’re sure.” the nurse said, flustered.

“Yup. Thank you so much!” you shot the nurse a smile. The nurse went to open the door for you as you left the infirmary with a baffled Jade in your arms.

You turned your head, to see an uncharacteristically surprised expression on Jade’s face. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was slightly agape.

“I didn’t break you, right?” you asked, and he finally blinked. 

“Aa. I just... did not expect you to be this strong, flower.” Jade finally said, his lips curled into a pleasant grin. “I had a general idea since you were always so willing to do the heavy lifting... Have you always been this strong?”

“Yeah.” you shrugged. “People often told me it was unattractive for a girl though. Said something about how it wasn’t cute.” you huffed. “I worried about it before but... I’m learning to accept it about myself.” 

Jade tilted his head, and he raised a hand to cup your cheek gently. His hand moved, and curled under your chin to make your eyes meet his own. 

“I think it’s very attractive.” you flushed, and Jade chuckled lowly. “Everyday I’ve been finding new things to love about you. This one is most definitely today’s ‘new thing’~” You could feel your face heat up even further.

“I--you’re unfair as ever Jade.” you sighed, and he shot you a pleased grin. 

“I’ll make it up with some mushroom risotto.” 

“You’ll have to tell me how to make it. I can’t make you cook in this state.” 

“I injured my ankle, not my hands.” Jade raised a fine brow.

“Yeah but... Let me pamper you.” your voice grew quiet. “Let me do it this time.” Jade laughed gently.

“Very well, milady.” 

-

“WAHAHAHAH! JADE! PFFFT!” 

“What happened Jade--wait, Floyd! Don’t jump--” 

CRASH.

--

“[Surname]!” you flinched, and turned around. You blinked in surprise as you see Professor Crewel stride up to you whilst he gritted his teeth. 

“What did you do?” Ace whispered. You furrowed your brow and shrugged your shoulders. Nothing came to mind.

“Puppy, you get along with Mr. Floyd Leech, do you not?” 

“I mean... Yeah?” you tilted your head, unsure where this was going.

“Good.” he exhaled. “Get him out of my classroom.” 

“Huh?”

-

“Floyd... please...” 

“Don’t wanna.” His voice was muffled because he had buried his face into his arms. He was seated in the center of the room, curled up. Crewel had pointed at him accusingly, then pointedly at you, before he turned away with a huff.

“Get him out of there before the next class, little puppy... or else...” he had twirled his baton in hand, and uninterested in experiencing whatever Crewel had in mind, you had chosen to speak to Floyd.

“Come on Floyd, please? Let’s go back to your dorm. You could just... sul--rest on your bed instead.” you tried to be gentle as you pulled on the much taller boy’s sleeve.

“You’ll hafta carry me out.” he said--stubborn as ever when he was in one of his moods. Since he couldn’t see your face, you exaggerated your eye roll.

“Fine.” 

Floyd twitched in interest, and shifted his head just a fraction to see you draw close. With surprising strength, you yanked him upright, then swooped him up into your arms--bridal style.

It look a second for what was going on to register in Floyd’s mind, but when it did, he began to flop in your arms. It felt a lot like holding an incredibly huge, and slippery... well... eel? You snickered at your own thought as you tightened your hold on Floyd’s body.

“SHRIMPY!” he wrapped his arms around your neck in excitement, “Shrimpy! You’re carrying me! Look! You’re carrying me!”

“Floyd... I know... I am carrying you.” you said, amused, “don’t move too much because if you accidentally hit me, I’m going to drop you.” At that he calmed down. However, he did not stop his cheerful hum, as he swung his legs in the air. 

You couldn’t help but think how adorable Floyd was in your arms. 

And you were also very pleased that you had easily cheered him up with carrying him like this. 

(You couldn’t say the same for most of the Night Raven College students though.

Floyd, as himself was dangerous enough. 

Floyd, when defending you? He was even worse.

Now they find out that the person everyone assumed was Floyd’s weakness was actually insanely strong enough to bridal carry a 191 centimetre tall menace?

‘Monsters, both of them.’ was the terrified thought of every single NRC student who pressed themselves up against the walls at the sight of you strutting about with Floyd in your arms, barely winded.)

“Shrimpy...” he looked at you with glowing eyes--and your heart felt at ease as you see that Floyd was no longer feeling upset. “How are you carrying me?”

“I’ve always been strong.” you shrugged. 

“You never told me though.” Floyd looked like he wilted at the thought and you couldn’t help but rush to assure him.

“It’s sort of like... when you had to explain magic to me. It’s difficult to explain something you’ve always known you had.” Floyd tilted his head at your response, eyes glimmered briefly in understanding. Floyd had always been smarter than people gave him credit for.

“So, how much more do you think you can carry?” 

“Well I don’t know about that but I can...” you told him how much you were able to lug around back in your world, and a mischievous glow entered Floyd’s eyes.

“I’m not entertaining it.”

“Awww, but shrimpy! It will be worth it!” he pouted, and heart struck by how adorable he looked, you sighed.

“Alright, I’ll hear you out.” 

“Hey, do you think you could carry Jade and I on either of your shoulders?” You paused, and looked at him in a contemplative manner.

-

“What in Atlantis, are you doing?” Azul’s shriek pierced the air. 

“Oh... oh my.” 

“Wahaha! Shrimpy quick! Pick up Azul too!” 

--

Just as you were about to call out to Jamil, you noticed that his movements weren’t as smooth as it usually was--nor did they have Jamil’s typical grace. You frowned at that.

Jamil had the habit of overworking himself. 

You were worried that he had done so--again.

-

Jamil raised a hand to his head, and sighed. His head pounded--a reminder that he hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night. 

He was lucky that he had enough control of himself that none of the teachers noticed the way his attention slipped. 

No one ever noticed.

Jamil had done his job well--he was ‘normal’ enough in the eyes of his professors and peers that his slightest missteps, and delayed answers were just a part of his ‘regular’ behavior. 

‘I’ll have to convince Kalim to sleep earlier tonight if I want to perform at my one-hundred percent best tomorrow.’ he raised a hand to his temple, and massaged it. His eyes fluttered close as he pressed his knuckles against his forehead--alleviating the irritating feeling even for a little while. 

“--are you okay?”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of your voice, and he instinctively gave you a small smile.

“Ah, [Name].” he nodded his head, “just a slight headache really.” 

“It doesn’t look like a slight headache.” you peered at him thoughtfully. He gazed back at you, confused--did you--?

“Alright, I’m taking you to the infirmary.” you suddenly decided, and Jamil’s eyebrows raised in response. 

“You--I’m fine, [Name].” he let out a soft chuckle. “There’s no need to worry.”

“You aren’t walking like you normally do.” he froze at your observation. “And you keep touching your head too.” you bit your lip, and the worry on your expression made Jamil’s heart skip a beat. “I’m worried Jamil.” 

You--you noticed.

You--you paid attention... to him. 

“You... noticed?” In his surprise, those words slipped out of Jamil’s mouth. You looked at him, and frowned.

“Of course I did--I.. I’m always looking out for you. Now let me take you to the infirmary.” You said firmly. Jamil stared at you--a little dazed, he’s not sure if it’s because he was genuinely not feeling well--or if he was stunned that you had chosen to look out for how he felt.

His feelings had always been second, if not disregarded so--

To know that you were concerned about how he felt... 

It felt...

It felt... good.

When you pulled him into a bridal carry, it pulled him out of his stupor, and he flinched in your arms.

“What the... why are... how are you carrying me?” Jamil--speechless--now wasn’t that a sight to see? He always seemed so prepared, calm, and ready for anything Kalim threw his way. Yet for once, you’ve surprised him--so much so that he showed you such an unguarded expression. Eyes wide, and mouth hung open. You couldn’t help but giggle at it. 

“I’m carrying you because if I don’t physically take you to the infirmary, you won’t go.” you paused, “and I can carry you because I’m just that strong.” 

“That is...” his dazed expression sharpened, “please put me down. I can take care of myself.” 

“No way Jamil, you’re terrible at caring for yourself.” you huffed in response, “so as your girlfriend, it’s my job to carry for you.” He twitched, one of his hands instinctively grabbed for his hood--you could see the slightest red on his cheeks, and that’s enough for you to grin goofily. 

“You always take care of us, Jamil.” you added, “let me take care of you for once.” His flush darkened, and he did his best to hide his face--but unfortunately for him--well, he was in your arms. 

You had a perfect view of his true feelings. 

“Sorcerer...” he cursed softly in embarrassment. 

You had a way with pushing past his defenses with that adorable expression of yours.

“Fine.” he said, grudgingly. “but Kalim better not see... this.” 

“I’ll do my best.” you said, as solemn as possible, despite the wide grin that grew on your face. Jamil pulled up his hood and turned away from your face (as much as possible while in your arms). You tightened your hold on him briefly.

You hoped he understood what you wanted to say--

That you cared about how he felt--and that you always would. 

-

There’s a dramatic gasp from somewhere behind you, and Jamil twitched.

“OH NO! JAMIL! WHAT HAPPENED!” 

Jamil sighed, and sagged in your arms.

“I’m unconscious.”

“Sure, love.” 

--

“Alright, since you all have a pretty good grasp on how to fly, you’re free to do what you want.” Professor Vargas grinned at the elated cheers of his students. “Just don’t get too close to the school or else Professor Trein will have my hide...” 

Epel peered at you.

“You can ride with me if you want.” he offered, but you shook your head.

“We haven’t tackled double riding yet.” you said, and you nervously looked down. “and I prefer my feet on the ground until then.” 

Because you didn’t have magic, and you refused to trust Grim with a broom--you managed to convince Crowley to write Vargas that you weren’t allowed to participate in Flying classes.

That didn’t stop Grim from attempting chaos with Ace and Deuce though.

“If you’re sure.” Epel frowned, “It’s very fun [Name].”

“Yup, I’m sure. Maybe next time? I’ll cheer you on though.” 

That’s how Epel found himself high up in the sky. When he looked down, you immediately noticed and waved up at him enthusiastically. He gave a brief wave back, before he began to play around in the sky. He did quick, full loops that made him laugh in exhilaration. He played around, and tested to see if he could do some tricks from some videos he saw on the MagiCam...

On your end, you couldn’t help but just smile fondly at the way Epel laughed and enjoyed himself in the sky. You felt a little envious--who wouldn’t? While it was sad that you were the only one in the whole school who couldn’t do magic--it was another thing all together when you see Epel smile. 

His smile made all of your negative feelings melt away.

You could content yourself with watching him enjoy himself in the sky. 

‘If I told him he was cute, he would get furious with me.’ you sighed, but you smile anyways, ‘it’s still one of the things I adore about him.’ Your eyes wandered away from Epel as you saw a bunch of your other roughhousing with each other. 

‘Geez...’ You turned your head to Professor Vargas who wasn’t paying attention to the sky. “Professor Vargas.” 

“Hm?” he looked up, only to pale immediately. “Student falling!” You turned your head, and you expected to see the students messing with each other but--

It’s Epel!

You bolted upright. 

One second, Epel was doing tricks in the air--and in the next--he was promptly pushed off his broom. In his surprise, he didn’t even try to grasp at his broom. 

‘Ah, shit.’ 

Epel swore internally. 

“Epel!” He twisted his head in your direction and realized you were running toward him frantically. He panicked as you readied yourself to catch him.

“Wait [Name]--” 

With a hard thud--he fell right into your arms--and you only had to adjust your stance to ensure you wouldn’t fall to the ground as his weight settled in your arms. His eyes snapped open (when had he even closed them?) as he felt your arms wrap around his back and legs. 

“Gotcha.” you sighed in relief, while Epel stared at you--stunned.

“[Name]...” he looked at you with wide eyes, and an open mouth. You’re sure if Vil was here, he would get ticked off that Epel was using his face for such a terrible expression. “you--how’d you--” 

“Never mind that.” you exhaled. You fell to your knees as the adrenaline rush left you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Epel said, baffled. “I... since when were you so strong?” 

“I always was. I just... never really... thought to say anything?” you shrugged. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you looked at him, a little nervous. You knew how much Epel wanted to be taken seriously, and it was partly the reason why you didn’t want to tell him that you were insanely strong. 

“Well... I... that is... I was worried what you would think.” Epel studied your expression, before a warm smile spread on his lips.

“You know what I think?”

“What?” 

“We could train together!” when you looked up, you noticed that Epel had a particularly fired up expression on his face. 

“You’re not mad...?”

“No?” Epel tilted his head, “I’m happy! This means you could give me tips on how to be stronger! We can be strong together!” Epel smiled widely. You’re struck by how beautiful this boy was (thought let him never know you though that). 

“I... yes!” 

Epel gave you a sweet smile in response. 

You felt your heart warm at the tenderness in his expression--a sight he rarely showed anyone... anyone except you, of course. 

“Together alright?”

“Together!” 

--

"Mon amour, quick~ Catch me~” 

You immediately dropped the book, and prepared yourself.

In the next second--Rook landed in your arms. He turned to you with a pleased glow. 

“So you are strong enough to carry me~” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “Fascinating~” 

“Yeah... I guess so.” you looked at him, perplexed.

“So why the sudden jump into my arms?” 

“I just felt like it.” Rook hummed, as he tucked some of your hair behind your ear. 

“Oh well... can I let you go?” you asked, your eyes fell on the book that had toppled to the ground at Rook’s sudden attack. 

“Hm... no.” Rook’s lips curled up. 

“Fair enough.” you sighed. “If I bend down, do you think you could pick up the book and put it back up on the self then?”

“Oh? You think you could do that?” there’s an interested but knowing gleam in Rook’s eyes. Likely chance, he already knew that much about you--and was just waiting to see if his assumptions were correct.

“I can try.” you offered, as you began to bend slightly for him to grab the book. 

Most people found talking to Rook unnerving--primarily because there was always that certain... analytical look in his eyes. It would always feel as if he was studying you--trying to understand... all of you, really. 

“Come to think of it...” Rook turned to look at you, patient. “How’d you figure out that I could do this?” You moved your arms slightly. 

Rook only smiled in response. 

You stared back--halfway between amused and confused. 

“...”

“...”

“...?”

“....~” 

“Yeah okay fine.” you sighed, and his smug aura somehow intensified...? “I guess I don’t want to know.”

There were a lot of things you still didn’t know about Rook. 

Despite his... ah... love for learning(?) about other people--he was tight lipped about himself. Even to you.

“I’m glad we came to an agreement.” he patted your shoulder. When he moved to get out of your arms, your grip tightened and his eyes slid open to look at you.

Even if he was private about himself though...

You made it your personal mission to understand him--to learn more about him. 

“Ohohoh~ Mon amour~ What are you doing~?” 

“I think I’ll hold onto my boyfriend a little longer, you know~?” Your lips curled. “It’s time for me to learn about you.” 

“You can try.” Rook smirked back. 

That’s what he liked about you after all.

You didn’t think he was strange. You thought of his actions as a challenge to learn about him--just as he learnt about you.

--

“Hello [Name]~” 

You looked up to see that Lilia hung, suspended upside down in midair again. His headphones were on, he had his controllers in hand--and he seemed to be playing a first person magic shooter game. He floated lower, just so you could reach him--and give him a greeting kiss on the cheek. You turned to the monitor curiously as Lilia finished beating up another player. 

“How are you playing that upside down?”

“I call it upping the difficulty level~” Lilia laughed, as his thumbs moved across the controller in rapid speed.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll fall?” 

“Nonsense.” Lilia shook his head, his short hair fell around his face. “I’ll handle it.”

“Right. I’ll be back with food then.” 

“Please get me tomato juice!” he called out as he focused back on the screen. He floated low, as he planned to sit himself down onto the couch upon your return. 

“Who was that?” a voice on the call asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Lilia said, and the voice that had ask--Idia that is--huffed in response. 

“Could it be... your mom?” Lilia chuckled at that, but not for the reasons that his teammates believed. 

“Could be a sister.” another one suggested.

“Or maybe... a girlfriend?” 

“WHAT!” 

At the suddenness of the shout, Lilia flinched in surprise and dropped down onto the ground. He had pretty sensitive ears--and since Idia (not that knew LilV and Lilia Vanrouge were one and the same--) had the bright idea to shout into the mic--it definitely messed with Lilia’s concentration. 

However, instead of falling down to the ground--Lilia found himself caught... in your arms. You looked at him with a ‘I told you so’ expression, only to be caught up by his expression.

He gazed at you with surprise written all over his expression--from the way his brows were raised, to the glitter in his eyes and his slack jaw. It was certainly one you’ve never seen before--because there was little that could surprise Lilia these days. When he blinked away his stupor, he noticed the curiosity on your expression. ‘Why did you fall?’ your expression asked. 

He pointed out at Idia’s name on the screen. Your brows rose.

“Idia yelled into the mic.” Lilia explained with a light chuckle after he made sure his mic was muted. He bore no ill will to the Ignihyde Dorm Leader. In fact, Lilia found him absolutely hilarious. 

“They can’t seem to believe I have a lover~” Lilia giggled, and you shook your head--amused.

“--THAT’S TOTALLY UNFAIR.” Idia whined, and their other teammates either agreed or laughed along. “If there’s a god out there... please nuke LilV. He’s gotten too lucky--” 

“Does... does he still not know?” you wondered, and Lilia stuck his tongue out mischievously. 

“Well... he doesn’t go out much and I don’t really talk to him in school...” 

“Fair.” you conceded, with an amused smile, as Idia cried about needing to plead with the Evening Star harder. 

“On the subject of not knowing,” Lilia raised a brow. “I know I’m not exactly light and yet...” He crossed his arms as he stared up at you curiously.

“Oh... well, I’ve always been strong?” you said, unsure of where this was going. 

“Intriguing!” Lilia hummed as he happily snuggled into your arms. “In that case, I should try falling into your arms more often!~” 

“Please don’t.” 

“I won’t hurt myself.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’ll automatically stop worrying, Lilia.” 

Lilia peered up at you with curious eyes. You gazed back, and he realized that you were every bit serious about what you said. 

“Sometimes I find it interesting how humans seem so much more mature than most faeries at my age.” Lilia mused.

“Well, we are forced to mature faster.” You pointed out. 

Lilia hummed in a contemplative manner.

“In that case, would you carry me like this whenever I want?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. “It won’t really bother me.” 

“Excellent, shall we remain like this for the night, then?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

The two of you shared a happy smile, as you settled in for the night. 

--

[heyitssmiller]

How funny! I was just thinking about it too........pt 3 🍰✨ [characters belong to @lumosinlove]

Leo had Bad Suns blasting from his phone as he frosted the latest cupcakes - a Devil's food cake batch he was making for an engagement party. He bopped his head to the tune with a smile as the sound filled the small space. The kitchen window was open to let in a breeze, and he could hear Marlene’s motorcycle pull up.

She came in from the back door, placing her helmet upside down on the equipment shelves. “Your music’s too loud.”

“You call me poison but you won’t stop comin’ around,” he sang to her, grabbing her arm and twirling her haphazardly.

“You’re singing off-key!” She laughed.

“No, you won’t stop comin’ arounddddd,” he ignored her, dipping her backward in his arms. Marlene rolled her eyes with a grin, clinging tight to him so she wouldn’t fall over.

He spun her once more for good measure before swiftly loading the cupcakes into a box and tying it up with yellow twine. “Remember to secure it,” he warned.

“Have I ever had an order fall off my bike?”

“Ah, let’s see. Sunday, November second-”

“That should not count. It was my first week, it was years ago, and spice cakes are inherently accident-prone.”

“Oh, are you gonna make me up a statistic?” Leo leaned back on the counter with his arms crossed, raising a playful eyebrow.

Marlene socked him in the shoulder. “I’ll secure this one, don’t worry.” She glanced at the time on her phone and turned off his music. “Now, I’ve got seven minutes before I really need to get going. Why don’t you tell me who it is you’re crushing on?”

“What?” Leo blurted, caught off guard by her question.

“Come on, Frank told me you were all blush when he came in for his shift Saturday afternoon, but you’d left before I came back to see for myself.”

“I-”

“Don’t lie to me, Leo Knut,” Marlene stuck a finger in his face.

He sighed, defeated, and told her an abridged version of what went down at the bakery on his solo shift. Marlene chewed her lip thoughtfully before pulling out her phone.

“What’re you doing?”

“Looking these guys up. They’re hockey players, right?”

He nodded as she typed ‘Gryffindor Lions’ into the search bar. Her eyes scanned the player’s photos before lighting up. “Here we go, Finn O’Hara and Logan Tremblay, right wingers.”

He leaned closer to get a better look.

Finn was smiling wide, red hair just a shade brighter than the burgundy jersey he was wearing. Leo decided his freckles looked just as cute on camera.

Next to Finn’s picture was Logan’s. The brunette’s eyebrows were slightly raised, his full lips just barely parted, giving him a faintly confused look that Leo found insanely adorable.

Marlene let out a squeal. “Oooooooooh, you do like them!”

“No, shut up.” Leo felt the blood rushing to his cheeks as he glared down at her.

“I mean, good choices. They are really hot.”

“No! Not good choices! Did you forget that they’re dating each other already?”

“And did you forget that they both flirted with you?”

He grumbled a reply as he turned to wipe down the counter.

“Leo, you said you put your number in their wallet, yeah?”

He nodded.

“So if they felt what you felt, they’ll call you.” She rubbed his arm soothingly. “Worst case scenario, you forget about them and move on. But you’re honestly a catch, Mr. Tall, light, and handsome. I wouldn’t worry.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks, Marley. You should get going with the cupcakes, though.”

“Crap, yes, I should.” She grabbed the box from the counter and her helmet from the shelves. “I will be back later!”

Leo pressed play on his music, turning it up again as he heard her motorcycle pull away. Then he started on the next order - a two-layer pistachio cake he’d already gotten half done. Three more Bad Sun’s songs and Leo was finally starting to loosen up to the music. He needed to put those hockey players out of his mind, or he would never be able to get anything done. “He’s a moth drawn, to a flame, he’s going in, he’s going all or nothin’,”

The customer’s door opened and Leo fumbled to pause the song. He was fine with Marlene hearing him sing, but he really did know that he had an awful voice.

“I’ll be right with you!” Leo called. He wiped his hands on his apron and stopped the mixer before walking out of the kitchen with a smile that promptly grew. “Hey!” He greeted the two men.

“Hi,” Finn said, sticking his hands in his pockets as Logan smiled back.

“What can I do for y’all today?” Leo placed his palms flat on the counter, suddenly painfully aware of the way his tank top showed off his arms. “I’m assuming y’all want some cake?”

Secretly, he was hoping they would say no, that’s not what they wanted. That they wanted him. That they came back for him.

Logan slipped his arm into Finn’s. “Well, we, uh, we wanted to tell you something.”

“Yeah?” Leo’s skin felt magnetic, pulling him towards the pair.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “We’re engaged.”

His heart, which had been beating out of his chest a minute ago, screeched to a halt and shattered in his chest. “You are? I-I-I mean, congratulations! Yeah, congrats, y’all, you’re engaged!” He ran a hand through his hair. “Wow! When’s, uh, when’s the wedding?”

Finn looked between Logan and Leo. “We’re not exactly sure yet. But we knew we wanted to come back and see you. For the cake.”

“For the cake,” Leo echoed.

“Oui, do you have time for us to sit down now?”

Leo looked around desperately for his appointment book, not trusting himself to meet either of the other two in the eye without dropping the act that he was happy for them. “I can, uh, I can make you an appointment, if you want, um.” He fumbled the pages to turn to a blank line. “Yeah, but I can’t meet right now, sorry. We can put you on the calendar, though? If-if you want.”

“Sure,” Finn nodded. “We’d love to.”

“Our next free day is Sunday, does that work?” Logan asked, leaning in to try and read Leo’s handwriting upside down.

“Yup, yup yup yup. Mhm. I can squeeze you right in. How’s noon work? Noon sound good?” Leo was smiling too widely, and rambling, he knew, but he had no idea to respond to this. The two guys he’d been non-stop thinking about, who he’d given his number to, had just come in to ask if he could bake their wedding cake.

For their wedding.

To each other.

And of course, Leo would.

“Noon sounds great,” Finn confirmed for him, and the blonde’s smile got tighter.

“Swell,” he gritted out. “Well, if that’s all...”

Logan and Finn looked at each other, and he couldn’t read the expression in their eyes.

“That’s all,” Logan said. “Merci Leo. We’ll see you Sunday, then? Noon?”

“Uh-huh,” Leo could tell his voice was too chipper. “Congratulations to y’all again!”

They offered him smiles before Finn held the door open for Logan.

His fiancé.

Leo went back into the kitchen and washed his hands before starting the mixer back up. Far too heartbroken by what just happened, he pressed play on the music and tried desperately not to cry.

They look so pretty from afar

Like the gates of heaven are open now

And my one true love has just waltzed right out, yeah

My brain reading this:

BADSUNSBADSUNSBADSUNSBADSUNS

LEO BABY

JUST FLIRT WITH HIM ALREADY FINNLO GOOD GRIEF GIVE HIM A HINT PLEASE

LEO BABY 😭

Ohhhh I love this story so so much!! Thank you for gifting us with this 💕

[ladyhallen]

nebula-n

Either somewhere that is completely normal, like a tea-shop or something that is completely wild, but the two of them treat like normal - like an underground fighting ring, which is just another tuesday for both of them

The case was this: there was a group of people doing a lot of kidnapping. No one knows the criteria but one, that they took strong people.

Harry didn’t like kidnappers or people who forced others in general. It just didn’t sit well with her.

Still, the Kingsley’s plan of, “Be bait,” was actually working. Walking home slowly and taking a lot of back alleys, reading a book and being the picture perfect person of oblivious.

She wasn’t surprised when they took her, but did they have to hit her so hard?

Sitting up, she winced when the ache on her stomach pitched into a throb. Fuck, but that hurt.

Looking around, she noted that it was an actual arena. Gladiator style, with cages upon cages of people and bloodstains on the floor.

People had died here, she realized with no small amount of anger. People had bled here a lot. The floor was a mess of stained blood and everywhere there was the scent of iron, of people still bleeding.

Her cage was shared with a group of other people. Most of them were angry, savagely pacing and occasionally rattling the bars. One man stood out of the entire group.

One, for how calm he was. And two, for how clean he was.

A lot of them had dirt or blood on their person somewhere, but this person…was spotless. He didn’t even have wrinkles on his clothes. He sat with that preternatural stillness of a snake, of a person who was ready to move at any given moment.

Others might have mistaken that posture for relaxation, but Harry had seen Aurors with less polished stances. She knew coiled readiness when she saw it.

Taking her courage and her curiosity at hand, she approached him.

“Excuse me,” she said politely. “Pardon me, but do you know what’s going on?”

He opened his eyes and looked it at her. It was almost like a trick of the light, but his dark eyes flashed red for a second.

“When the sponsors are ready,” he explained in a deep and calm voice. “They’re going to open the cages, and we’re going to fight to death. Whoever impresses the sponsors leaves here alive.”

Fuck.

It was worse than she thought.

Death matches. Underground fighting rings with only one person walking away.

Fuck it, it was actually an underground brawling ring, because she had no illusions that it would be a neat and tidy one on one match.

“Has anyone ever tried to leave?” she asked him, voice just as low and quiet. It wouldn’t do for anyone to hear.

He cocked his head at her. “No. There is something preventing people from leaving. Some sort of net. They can’t attack the sponsors.”

Attack was a very broad term. So many loopholes…

And something was niggling her mind about this person. There was calm and then there was calm. He was too freaking relaxed at the thought of a fight to the death.

Either he was insanely good, or he was planning something.

She tilted her head and considered him thoughtfully. Or maybe both.

“I want in whatever you’ve got,” she decided. “I have to get back to work on Monday. I can’t take too much time in this little holiday.”

He fully opened his eyes and looked at her. It felt like he was looking into her soul.

After a moment, he smiled.

.

.

Fon had gotten caught intentionally and he would bet that the very strong woman with incredible Cloud Flames was the same.

She was angry, focused and very smart. She’d taken one look at him and known he wasn’t there by accident.

He liked her. She reminded him of his old master.

When the cage doors opened, Fon darted out quickly and wasn’t surprised that she kept up with him. Even when he ran up the wall with carefully applied Storm Flames and jumped in to the sponsor balcony, she was right beside him.

The sponsors, the disgusting and vile men who ordered these matches, didn’t even blink. They weren’t afraid.

But honestly, the word attack was ridiculously broad. There were so many ways you could interpret it.

He broke the fancy chairs they were sitting on and then they started to be afraid. One woman started to tremble.

The Cloud caught on, which he knew she would. She darted forward and broke the wristband. It was the only thing identifying a person as a sponsor and it was practically unbreakable. She broke it.

Fon stared for a second, enthralled. What lovely application of Flames. Sure, he could have done it, but Storm Flames were uncontrolled disintegration. He could have accidentally disintegrated the sponsor’s hand just as well as the wristband if he moved that quickly.

“You can’t do this!” the man who had been a sponsor blubbered.

“Sure can,” the Cloud nodded. She tripped him over his ass and tossed him over her shoulder, over the balcony and down to the brawling mass of people. All of whom were no longer brawling, very much aware that something was happening.

Fon settled in front of the door, blocking it and smiling meanly.

Yes, the Cloud was scary but she was a woman. Most of them ran towards her.

The enterprising few who ran towards him were dealt with. He just had to think about targeting the wristbands and not attacking them. Because if he did, he would end up pulling his punches involuntarily.

Eugh, Mist fuckery.

He would have to ask Viper if he had any residues on him later, he didn’t want to think about that sort of order interfering with his jobs.

Fon finished, looked at the Cloud woman having so much fun tossing sponsors over her shoulder after breaking the wristbands.

He felt himself melt a little. She was so bloodthirsty, it was adorable.

When the last sponsor was done being tossed over, she went to him, flushed and smiling with glee. He resisted the urge to stroke her bloodied cheek. It would be inappropriate, he didn’t introduce himself yet.

Oh, but he wanted.

“Ah, I love doing vengeance,” she hissed, looking a bit disheveled. She fixed her hair into a braid and threw it back. “So, where’s the way out?”

He chuckled under his breath. She was so cute. He was willing to bet she was looking for the people who kidnapped her.

“Yes, I memorized the layout,” he said, appreciating the eldritch purple light in her eyes.

.

.

After everything and they were standing under the stars again, the man who’d introduced himself as Fon looked to her and said, “Monday is still four days. Want to come with me for a bit?”

The thing was, Harry shouldn’t. He was a stranger and a dangerous one.

Except, the entire time she was with him, Harry had also never felt happier, or more alive.

Sure, she loved her job and her life, but it had gotten to the point that after the Death Eater’s were hunted down and put away, it had gotten boring.

This man, she thought. He would never be boring.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“It’ll be fun,” he coaxed.

With a smile, Harry nodded and took his hand.

.

.

Harry is a bloodthirsty Cloud Lady here and Fon adores her.

[missdreamsalot]

The Queen’s Guard- CH. 3: City of Angels

A/N: I would first love to thank @lordofhorizons for helping me with this chapter and tolerating my craziness! Love you! <3

And a huge thanks to my amazing readers who continue to motivate me!

Happy reading~ *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

Book: The Royal Romance

Main Pairings: Leo x OC, Liam x OC

Future Pairings: Maxwell x OC, Bastien x OC, Drake x Olivia x OC

Summary: A rotten apple in the family threatens their lives and there is only one way to get rid of bad blood. 

Masterlist

Series Warnings: Violence, Language, Sexual Content, Angst, Dark Situations, Character Death

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of The Royal Romance, or Rules of Engagement; they belong to Pixelberry. I only own my OC’s.

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed:

Tags List: @riseandshinelittleblossom, @hopefulmoonobject, @lordofhorizons​, @gkittylove99,@kingliam2019, @amandablink, @cordonianroyalty, @cordonianprincess, @marshmallowsaremyfavorite

Ch. 3: City of Angels

“What exactly will happen when this is through?”

Liam peeked over his shoulder. Madeleine was standing behind him, arms crossed rigidly, as he shuffled the papers on his desk. After settling them into neatly placed stack, he faced her while placing his phone in his coat pocket and leaning back against his desk. He had just told her about Tariq and Los Angeles, and the certainty of seeing Elle once again.

Honestly, he didn’t know what was going to happen when the scandal was cleared or how things would go with Elle.

“I need a reply, Liam.” she demanded. “If my position as Queen is at risk, I need to know.” She pushed firmly.

“My intention was to merely confront Tariq to clear Elle’s name. I wasn’t expecting Val-”

“Val? That punk-looking woman?” Madeleine inquired sternly. “You two certainly have a thing for peculiar women. Trashy at that.”

Liam’s eyebrows furrowed in anger. “You want to know the truth? Yes, your position as Queen is hanging on a thread. I am going to L.A to remedy the chaos my father created and win back the woman I adore with all my heart.”

Hurt unmistakably crossed her face as he continued. “And if she will accept me back into her life, I will, without hesitation, make her the queen she was meant to be.”

Madeleine smoothed out the sides of her dress as she collected herself. “Well then. That’s all I needed to hear.” With her chin held high, she closed the space between them. Her slender fingers wrapped around his tie and tugged him forward, forcing him to stare down at her.  “Good luck on your trip, but I hope you come to understand what’s truly best for this country....” Pristine nails glided up his neck and as she cupped his cheek, she pressed her red-stained lips against his. He only waited until she pulled away. “…Me.” she affirmed with usual poise.

Satisfied with having the last word, she turned and exited the room, but not before bumping into Drake who suddenly appeared at the doorway.

“Oh, uhh, sorry.” He sidestepped out of her way, allowing her to pass. She said nothing as she moved on. “Always a charm to be around…” he muttered sarcastically.  “Ready to go, Liam? Everyone’s waiting out front.”

Liam sighed heavily at having just dealt with Madeleine. “I’m ready.” And to be gone for as long as possible.

Two days have passed since his discharge from the hospital. He felt mostly well, but the aches and pains returned with a vengeance every so often. Regina insisted that he give himself at least a week to recover, but Liam didn’t want to delay his departure any longer. He was eager to get to L.A and see Elle again.

However, he was overburdened with the situation of the bombing. Everyone wanted answers, but he couldn’t give them. The only link that they had was slaughtered by a 100lb direwolf, according to Bastien. Several questions remained about the group she affiliated with and how she escaped her cell. The cameras had been hacked into and disabled and, following that, the two guards keeping a look out were also killed.

In addition, there was no further word from Val.

Once Liam and his group made into the jet that was arranged for them, he took a seat across from Leo.

“Anything?” he asked his older brother, who stared solemnly out the window.

“No.” Leo pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes. “Christ, she drives me insane!” he exasperated. “She is so careless and selfish. Then she goes and disappears without saying anything!”

“Sounds like you’re talking about yourself, Leo.” Drake interjected, which was followed by a glare from the rebellious ex-prince. Those two always seemed to have it out for each other, but Liam couldn’t deny the truth in Drake’s words.

He added amusedly, “Perhaps this is karma? The world has finally caught with you.”

Leo groaned. “This woman…”

“Guess who has the bubbly!” Maxwell burst into the cabin happily. “Pre-celebration for clearing Elle’s name.”

“We shouldn’t get our hopes up.” Drake said, “There are half a dozen places we have to eliminate and who knows if Tariq hasn’t already up and left.”

“Pre-celebration for reuniting with Elle!”

“I don’t think I feel up to it. Sorry, Maxwell.” Liam stated softly. Dejected, Maxwell turned away with a slump in his shoulders.

“Oh, what the hell. Give it here, buddy!” Leo reached forward and Maxwell cheerfully obliged, handing him a glass.

“Valentina apparently had a run in with our father. Under what circumstances, I’m unsure.” Liam stated calmly as Leo chugged down the champagne.

Leo stayed silent, staring down at the empty glass. “I always had my suspicions. I just didn’t want to believe father would go that far… but if he was willing to ruin Elle’s reputation, it wouldn’t surprise me if he said or did something that forced Val to cut things off.”

He chortled half-heartedly. “I feel kind of stupid. She knew who I was, I don’t know for how long or why she never said anything… I would steer clear of the details if she asked and all this time she knew. I just don’t understand why she didn’t just tell me what was going on?” He paused thoughtfully. “I don’t know how I feel about all this…”

“There must be more to it.” Liam reckoned, in an attempt to ease Leo, but it only seemed to irritate him.

His brother gave an audible tsk. “Yeah, her job. That was always her excuse. Spy, hitwoman, whatever she is…Now, I could care less.” He stood up sharply.

“Leo-”

“I could use another drink or two.” Liam looked after his brother worriedly as he walked to the back of the jet’s luxurious cabin. He understood why Leo felt so frustrated with Val. He just hoped he didn’t do anything stupid.    

The rest of the flight passed on uneventfully, three men brooding about the current happenings while Maxwell was seemingly optimistic about well…everything. They arrived in Los Angeles early afternoon the next day, and after settling into their rooms for a bit they reconvened in Liam’s suite.

Everyone, except for Leo.

“Is this really a surprise?”  Drake said, combing a hand through his visibly damp hair.

Maxwell eyes lit up excitedly. “OooOooh, I saw him walking out of the hotel with a smoking hot babe in his arm.”

Liam berated his older brother internally. Dammit, Leo. He was definitely doing something stupid.

><><><><><><><><

Leo entered the building that pulsed with pounding drums and lively shrills from electric guitars. Lights of vibrant colors twirled over the dancing crowd whose excited feet quaked the floor.

“C’mon!” The busty blonde pulled him towards the bar with an enthusiastic laugh. “How lucky am I to have snagged a prince?!”

“Ha.” He clenched his teeth. ‘Probably not your best idea; going out with a zealous fan…’ But he was aching for a night out and needed to get his mind off a certain someone, and ironically, here he was thinking about not thinking about her.

As the band ended the last remnants of their song darkness consumed them until the room glimmered back to life. 

Turning back to the bar, he froze in place. 

‘Just how much damn smaller could this world be?’

From the looks of it, Val must’ve been in the dancing mob near the stage. With tousled hair and a visible sheen of dampness along her face, she was speaking to another woman near the bar. The blonde didn’t look happy while Val, who appeared laid-back, played off what her friend had said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Val’s gaze glided along the crowd, half listening to her. Until finally, she met his. The piercing kick of an electric guitar cut through the air as the band sparked back to life.

“Here’s your drink, handsome!” His date flashed the cocktail in his face. Breaking away from the surprised look on Val’s face, he refocused his attention on cute Andrea.

“Just what I needed.” He grinned roguishly. “Thanks, beautiful.” His fingers tangled in the back of her hair and he leaned in, capturing her luscious lips. Was he being petty? Undeniably so, and Leo wasn’t afraid of putting on a show.

She moaned as he kissed her deeply and their lips moved sensually against each other. He opened his eyes and allowed his teeth to scrape her bottom lip as Val watched.

A shadow fell over her face, eyes darkening dangerously. Val turned away and reached behind the bar, dragging out her classic black leather jacket. He caught sight of something twinkle underneath the lights but she was quick to hide it away. The bartender acknowledged her with a grin. “Have fun!” He shouted.

Val only responded with a thumbs up and took the stairs to the second floor, her companion following behind.

“Let’s rock out, Leo!” Andrea draped her arms around him, insistently guiding him toward the jumping crowd.

“Whoa!” He took the opportunity to purposely spill his drink. Andrea shrieked, leaping away from the liquid. 

“Why you don’t go ahead? I’m going to go grab another one. I need to be able to keep up with you.” He winked. Captivated, she nodded obediently and got lost in the sea of dancers.

Leo traced Val’s steps up to the next level and caught her going through a door at the end of the hall as he reached the top. He maneuvered his way through the swaying bodies, eventually coming face to face with it. On the front it read: ROOF ACCESS. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

He sauntered through without hesitation and up the next set of stairs carefully. The brick cobbled walls braced a steel door at the upper end. It was slightly ajar, tendrils of moonlight and a stream of words seeping its way in.

“…isn’t going to bode well for anyone…for Danielle especially, and she is in no condition to fret.”

Leo peered through the crack. Both women had their back to him. They were speaking to a middle-aged man with spectacles.

“Why are do you feel so inclined to know?” he asked Val.

Leo couldn’t make out Val’s next words as they flowed in a soft, delicate whisper.

The man’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Valentina. I truly am. All I can say now is to go to your father.”

Val responded. “He’s no help. He practically begged me to never bring it up again, or anything related to their deaths.”

His lips pursed, then he sighed. “There is a distressing reason behind that.”

“Will you tell me?”

“I’m in no position to, but…” A passing breeze concealed his next words, and Leo unconsciously leaned forward causing the door to groan against his weight.

Before Leo knew it, there was a sudden flash of silver and a metallic clang from behind him. The blonde had, without warning or hesitation thrown a fine narrow dagger in his direction. Assuming they were professionals, Leo surmised that it was a warning shot. She seemed more than capable of hitting her target; aka his head.

He pushed the door open with his foot, revealing himself with hands up in surrender. He stared intently at the trio, his eyes eventually resting on Val. Her eyes tore through him with a coldness he never saw before, causing more damage than any other blade could.

The man addressed Val, “Another contact of yours?”

“No. I don’t know who that man is.” Val deadpanned. The blonde began to reach under her coat, but she intervened quickly. “Zinnia, I’ll take care of him.”

“I suppose we’re finished here then?”

“Yes, Thompson. Thank you.” Val bid him farewell.

Thompson passed him with a friendly grin. “Good luck.” He muttered under his breath. Zinnia said nothing but gave him a passing glance as she went back inside.

As soon as the door closed, Leo heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cock.

“Are you serious?” His eyebrows furrowed irritably.

Val took aim and fired… the concrete by his foot split and was left dented by the bullet. She gave a cunning tilt of her head.

“I’m really tired, Leo, and I don’t think I have the patience to deal with you right now, especially after your little stunt in there…” Val said, pointing the smoking pistol at him.

Standing his ground, Leo examined her. Rigid yet calm, her eyes, though blazing with ferocity, also carried a sadness with them. He noticed the dark circles settled underneath and if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d lost a bit of weight.

“I’m sorry, okay? But could you blame me for being angry? You left without a damn word.”

She sighed, “I meant to get back to you but I’ve been busy with-”

“Your job?” Leo spat. “It takes just a minute to send a message saying-I don’t know- anything, Telling me that you’re okay?!”

She withdrew her weapon as if the weight was too much to bear. “I don’t have time for this.” Her steps were quick as she attempted to make her way past him, but he blocked her path.

“Please, just talk to me!”

Val gazed somberly at the ground. It was clear that something was bothering her. He was conflicted with whether or not he should push the matter, but he was tired of being left in the dark.

His words were soft. “Help me understand. I don’t want to feel this way towards you, but you’re not giving me much options.” He gently took her arms in an approach to comfort her, but she remained motionless.

When he felt her tremor in his hands, she swiftly clasped his wrist. He observed her with concern. Whatever that was, it wasn’t from the cold. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head as her eyes welled up with tears. “I have to go.” She choked. Allowing her to remove his hands, he stepped aside. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

And Val was gone, leaving him with more unanswered questions and a hollow feeling in his chest.

The rest of the night seemed to move in a haze. He found his way back to the bar, had a couple more drinks, and eventually reunited with Andrea. He indulged her with lustful words and sweet caresses, driving that pitiful cloud above his head away for the night.

Stumbling contentedly into her apartment, clothes found their way to the floor as he lavished her with eager kisses and tantalizing bites. He grasped the heated flesh of her thighs wrapped around him, pressing their bodies firmly together in a tangled mess.

Walking to her bedroom, Leo tripped suddenly, losing his balance. Andrea squealed as she collapsed on the soft, plush carpeting with him on top and they erupted in a fit of drunken laughter.

She pushed him onto his back, climbing over his chiseled body. Her fingers raked down his chest while her lips discovered the tender skin of his neck. He groaned, shutting his eyes.

When he opened them again, Val swam in his vision. “Val…” he sighed longingly.

She smirked, arching her back seductively. “I’m going to take great care of you tonight.” Her hips shifted and he grabbed them tightly as she began to move enticingly against him.

His head fell back as the feel of her enraptured him and he lost himself in the warmth of her touch…

><><><><><><><><

*Knock* Knock* Knock*

Liam stepped away from the door, glancing back at the address Val had given him. He seemed to be in the right place. The apartment complex was well-built and stood strongly despite its vintage-styled architecture. The fourth-floor walls were adorned with antique light fixtures and historical portraits against white panel walls. He recognized the painting closest to him as Rene Magritte’s ‘The Lovers’. The couple in the photo had their faces covered in cloth; a scene that held more significance more than he realized. 

He heard sudden movement in the inside and his anxiousness increased. Was it a mistake being here? Should he come back later? It was a bit selfish to assume she was available, but when would it be the best time? 

He exhaled heavily. 

The elevator dinged down the hall and as the doors opened, a woman’s laughter spilled free. The melody propelled him to turn as it ignited his heart and the feeling only intensified when the sight of Elle invaded his mind.

She stepped out, smiling brightly up at a man who followed behind her, carrying a bag of groceries.

She stopped short upon seeing him, her green eyes widening in disbelief and face becoming considerably pale “Liam?” His name fell breathlessly from her pink lips.

However, his attention was fixed on a part of her that bulged out considerably; round and swollen. 

That could only mean one thing: she was pregnant.

[closer-stars]

It Just Takes A Little Pull - Yunho

Member: Yunho (with mentions of Mingi and Yeosang) Genre: Fluff Requested: Yes @atinyxtopia AU: High school (Prom) Word Count: 3k Content: It’s High school. Prom things. Kind of a slow start. Female reader. Boys being fun boys.  Note: I have not thought of prom since I left high school so this was an interesting thing to write. I tried my best and I hope it reaches your standards.

A part of you wished your school accepted both girls and boys, it might have saved you from spending double on events such as school fairs, fundraising events, prom. Unfortunately, you went to a school that was exclusively for girls. Yunho was also at an exclusive boys school. Truth be told, a part of you also wished that your school accepted both girls and boys just so you could see him more. Alas, you could only see him after class hours or on weekends-- at least you had something to look forward to. 

You were part of the varsity, while he was on the dance team. Both of you were a world or two apart for a good majority of your school years. You’ve heard of your fellow schoolmates fawn over his skills and face more than one. Deep down, you actually considered him your school’s representative heartthrob. The same could be said for you on his side. Boys have come to respect your skill and often talk about you in their hallways. In the end, you both knew each other by face and reputation but that’s all. 

Some of your friends have wondered just exactly how you became friends with him. It was always the same story. Yeosang’s sister was your senior captain, you crashed at her place one time, from there you met Yeosang and then you met Yunho. 

“Crap, I’m so sorry!”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry!”

Yunho and you ended up crashing into each other. Only thanking each other’s fast reflexes for being able to avoid falling over. A quick glance at each other’s face then either of you bolted in the other direction, too embarrassed to say anything else.

“Unnie, who’s the other guy? I thought you only had one younger brother?” You asked, as you towel dried your hair. 

The older female looked up at you after a moment or two, she was always a sucker for these dramas. “Hm? Oh! That’s Yunho. I think he’s sleeping over tonight since he and Yeosang has a project or something. Dunno with that kid.” She said with a shrug. 

Play it cool. “So that’s Yunho..” You mumble. You knew who he was but it was always from a distance. 

“Sang. You didn’t tell me you have a twin sister.”

The boy looked at the human embodiment of a golden retriever in surprise, a bit of annoyance on his features as he had to pause his video game. “Yunho, what are you even talking about?” 

“I saw another girl earlier??” He explained, gesturing at the direction of where he saw you.

“Dude, that’s my sister’s teammate.” Yeosang explained, mentioning your name. That’s when it clicked in Yunho’s mind. That was you. 

“She looks cool.” 

“I’m more concerned for your head if you think we look alike.” 

“Think you can introduce me to her?” 

A yell from Yeosang and Yunho looked up at him in concern. Yeosang dropped the gaming console in disappointment before turning to the male.“I’m blaming you for making me die.”

Yeosang did follow through with Yunho’s wish, after plotting with his sister that is. How else do you get insanely active people to bond? Food. Their mother had left them money for the night while she had to go on a business trip. What were the chances that the both of you would sleep over at their place on the same day? 

From that day on, the rest was history. You and Yunho were now pretty inseparable (as inseparable as you guys could be that is). The both of you would talk to each other whenever possible, much to the teasings of your friends because hey, what’s so funny? Why are you smiling while messaging something? Do you have a crush? 

You were finally one of his admirers, eventually catching feelings for him. It was hard not to and you could see why he had a fanclub or two in other schools. Did he return those feelings? You weren’t sure but you were happy with how the both of you were now. 

Fast forward a year later and the friendship has become one of the strongest friendships you have in your high school life. Both of you are now at the fated year level where the main topic of discussion would be prom. 

“Hey, do you have a prom date already?” Your best friend asks you as you ate your lunch thoughtfully. You look at her with suspicion. “What?”

“You have plans of setting me up with someone?”

“Why would I have plans? Also does that mean you haven’t asked Yunho yet?”

Your bottom lip juts out and you continue to eat, thus causing your best friend to groan. 

“My godd, you’ve known Yunho this long and you haven’t asked him?! Hey, did you even know he doesn’t entertain any of those love confessions anymore?” She complains to you. 

Confused eyes look at her for saying such things. “What does that even have to do with me?”

She shakes her head. “I’m just saying, ask him. If he’s not available then I can ask my brother, Hansol to go with you.” 

You flash an ‘okay’ sign at her, mouth full with noodles. Your free hand then reaches for your phone. 

[KKT: Dancing Doggo] Hey are you free on February 21 5PM to 10PM? It’s my prom, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?

Your best friend watches as you compose the message and before you could even stop her, she had already pressed send for you. “Hey!” A tone of mild annoyance was clear in your voice as you try to bring your phone away from her. 

“Believe me, you’ll thank me later.” She says with such a grin, you might as well have called her the devil incarnate. Your phone buzzes almost immediately making you jump. Without another word, both of you huddle around your phone. 

[KKT: Sonic] Yeah! Of course I’m willing! Are you free also on March 6, same time? Same reasons. Hehe. 

That was when your best friend suddenly tackled you into an almost bone crushing hug. “I told you!” A hand is then placed over her loud mouth as you try to hush her. 

[KKT: Dancing Doggo] I’d be honored! It’s a deal then! :)

Maybe having to pay double for two proms wasn’t that bad then. 

The fateful day of your own prom arrives and you were actually pretty nervous about it. You’ve worn your own share of skirts and dresses but it was never this extravagant or feminine as your prom dress. A high-low skirt that starts below your knees down and ends just brushing above the floor when you’re in heels. The color matched your skin tone well, making you practically glow under the lighting. Your hair and face was all made up and to be honest, you were surprised that you could look like that under that much makeup and hair spray. A small part of you worried that the color you chose wouldn’t go well with Yunho but even before you could say your worry, he reassures you it was no problem. “Besides, if it doesn’t. I can pick the color for my prom.” He joked to you a few weeks back. Your mother takes a few photos of you before letting you go. 

You head towards the lobby that’s sprinkled with your own classmates in dresses that are just as beautiful if not more, along with a few familiar faces from Yunho’s school and others in suits that fit them nicely. You sent Yunho a message wondering where he is and just as you did so, you immediately spot him by the elevator, with Yeosang. 

“Yunho!” You call out, speeding towards the two boys and they look up at you both in shock. Your eyes lingered on Yeosang’s amusing reaction, it was rare to get a big reaction from him so having him look at you with eyes wider than him being caught eating his own sister’s food was fun. While on the other hand, Yunho was gazing at you, clearly dazed. He’s had his share of harbouring romantic feelings for you but to see you in such a dress that gracefully brought you out of your comfort zone had him at a loss for words. 

You squish Yeosang’s cheeks together much to his annoyance then shift your attention to your partner for the night. You look at his suit properly and find yourself breathing a sigh of relief. “At least I picked a color that suits you well too.” You say as you pin the boutonniere on his suit carefully. 

“Hey, I told you I’m lucky boy.” He points out as he slightly bends lower to not give you a hard time. His statement makes you hit his chest lightly. 

“Whatever, Yunho.” You return with a roll of your eyes. Yeosang excuses himself as he finally spots his prom date, who was surprisingly your best friend. “Yeosang! Tell her she owes me an explanation.” He looks at you, confused at the vague wording but knows better than to pry. He nods before making his way to her, leaving the both of you alone. 

Some of your peers slowly start to enter the venue. “Should we follow them or do you want to stay outside a little longer?” asks Yunho, turning to you. 

A small hum of thought slips through your red lips. “Let’s go! I want to see how they made the place.” You reply with an excited grin. Your partner for the night then offers his elbow for you to hook your hand to. 

“M’lady.” he jokes and for a moment he swears your giggle actually sounded cute. Your hand shyly holds on to the crook of his arm. 

“How cheesy of you.” 

“It’s prom. Might as well make the most out of it.”

He was right. For the entire night, the two of you exchange laughter and sassy remarks, ultimately becoming the life of your table (much to the embarrassment of your best friend and Yeosang. Athletes and dancers in one table might have been too much for her heart to take). He made you join the games that were sprinkled throughout the event (you guys won and Yunho wasn’t going to let you forget that). His presence was enough to make your stomach hurt from laughter. There was something in how he interacted with those around him that made them feel at ease. A small voice in your head thought of how you were perfectly fine keeping these feelings to yourself as long as you don’t lose him. The only time both of you mellowed down was during the meal proper. It wasn’t anything over the top but it was fancy enough to let you know the organizers put enough thought. 

The much awaited slow dance had come-- as if it weren’t obvious by the cheesy lightings and song choices by the DJ. Some couples have made their way to the dance floor, excited to have some sort of “moment” with their partner. You didn’t say much, being fine in your seat as you watched the others dance. This wasn’t going to pass with your partner though. In fact, he stands up first and offers his hand. You look at the hand that comes up to your view towards the owner of the outstretched hand.

“Let’s dance. We’re not leaving this place until we get to dance.” Yunho says firmly. 

“Fair warning, I don’t have feet like you do.” You return as you take his hand and stand up. 

“I got you. Don’t worry.” He reassures, flashing you that charming smile that has managed to get the girls to squeal earlier in the games. He leads you to the dance floor, guiding one hand to rest on his shoulder (thank god for heels), the other hand laced with his. His free hand then rests on your waist and for the first time that night, you felt conscious of how you looked in front of him. You had to admit, the dress, makeup and hair you had on tonight was lovely but to be under his gaze at such close distance for who knows how long has made a pink hue dust your cheeks, and you were sure that wasn’t blush. 

“Just follow my lead okay?” He says softly. His feet then slowly step to one side, letting you follow him. Just below his breath, soft enough for no one to hear but loud enough for your ears only, he counts to the tempo of the song, helping your ears tune in to what he hears. He’s done this in the past with you, with songs that he covers: all of which were fast paced. A slower paced song such as the one playing on the speakers was new to you. You have songs that you’ve shared in the past where you can pay attention to it as a whole then pay attention to what beats he catches underneath all the layers. This time though, you had nowhere else to distract yourself with. After getting the hang of the motions, you look up at him and find him gazing at you softly. “Got the hang of it?” 

You nod, trying your best not to look at his lips. He smiles again, proud of you for having done so. “We can stay like this for another song or two if you want. I know you’re tired of being in heels for the past few hours.” He reassures. 

“I’m fine. I promise. Maybe another song wouldn’t hurt.” You return. One song was enough for you to feel light headed from how close the both of you were, much more when you get a whiff of his cologne. The cloud nine feeling ends soon, with the MC letting the rest of the night be upbeat songs. You breathe a sigh of relief, wanting to give your feet a break from having to almost be on your tiptoes for the entire night. Yunho leads you out of the dance floor, and out into the lobby where the cool air helps you breathe easy. 

Some familiar faces were already outside too. From the looks of it, you could tell that Yunho also recognized them, judging from how jumpy he started to be. “Oh, Mingi’s here too huh?” He muses. Uh-oh. That meant one thing. The group was about to only have one brain cell for the remainder of the night. 

Both of you make your way to their table, the girls having the couch and the heels off their feet-- which you quickly followed once you sat down. The boys on the other hand sat opposite their side. Both having either iced tea or iced coffee with some snacks. Yunho then introduces you to the rest of his friends. You knew the girls too from another class. The rest of the night was once again filled with laughter. As some of the boys decided to try to fit their feet into the heels, some using the heels as a phone. Hell, Mingi tossed a heel at Yunho and they quickly hit the whoa. The girls, including you, found entertainment and embarrassment at their antics, even going as far as teaching them how it feels to be a girl at the worst times. 

One by one, the people in your table leave. Either to be picked up by their parents, or up into their rooms in the hotel. It was only you and him left once more. Your coffee was watered down and half empty. Yunho’s bottle of water wasn’t any different from yours. A comfortable, yet slightly awkward silence goes over the both of you. 

“Thank--

“Thanks for--”

Pause.

Laughter.

“You first-”

“You fi-”

Pause again. 

Then Yunho gestures for you to speak first. “Thank you for coming with me. I had a lot of fun tonight.” Your heart races as you speak. You hope this isn’t from the coffee and rather from the nerves of being just alone with him like this. “I’m sorry also for having you to bring me out of the venue when it was your type of music playing… I know you like to dance to those songs too..”

“I should be the one thanking you for inviting me. Even if you didn’t, I would’ve invited you to my prom.” He confesses, ears bright red as he does so. He rubs the back of his neck as he finds the next words. “Don’t worry about the music part. I can always play those songs in my free time and there’s still my prom. More chances to embarrass you too.” 

“Jung Yunho.”

“What?” He laughs at the sight of your stern face. “You know your strict face isn’t scary to me. You love me too much for that.” You hate how right he is, you also hate how he doesn’t know just how right he is. 

He looks at the clock then helps you into your heels. “Let’s get you back to your parents. They’re probably wondering where their little princess is.” He teases again which causes him to receive another whack on his arm. “What? You do look like one tonight!” You slowly push yourself to stand up. The pain of being on your tiptoes rushing back. He holds you gently, making sure you don’t wobble. 

“Easy there. I know you’re strong but even you got your limits.” He accompanies you to the elevator. 

“How about you?” 

“What about me?”

“How are you getting home?” 

He glances at you, somehow catching himself off guard with the change in distance. Why was it only now that he gets surprised by how close your face was to his. Heels really are something. 

“Oh, Yeosang and I got a room too. Are you worried about me?” He teases, batting his eyelashes at you. 

“Yunho, I swear--”

Before you could finish your words, the doors of the elevator slide open and both of you immediately enter. 

The ride up was a slow one. Both of you didn’t know that your rooms were on the same floor too, only on different sides of the building. 

Somehow, a part of you was hoping for something. You didn’t know what it was but you wanted something to happen. The same goes for Yunho. His hand immediately then holds you back gently. 

“I need to tell you something.” He says softly, his eyes downcast. Your stomach drops at his body language. Did he like someone else? Was he leading you on this whole time? 

“I actually wanted to tell you this earlier but there wasn’t really a good time for me to say it.” The words were flying a mile a minute. He could’ve beaten Mingi when it came to fastest speaker at this point. “I just really wanted to tell you that I have feelings for you. Not.. as friends but as something more.” He explains. His eyes steady on you, with no sign of his signature mischievous glint in his eyes. 

It catches you off guard, a little too lost for words because, Jung Yunho? He has a crush on you? Are the feelings mutual? He takes your silence as something else and drops his hand. “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s totally fine. We can stay as friends. I just.. Felt--”

“Jung Yunho, I like you too.” You immediately blurt out. 

His face brightens up at your words and he wraps his arms around you in relief. “We don’t have to be officially together if you want. We can just take it slow or just--” 

His lips feel nice against your own. The taste of the chocolate he ate earlier is still apparent. “You talk too much.” You say simply when you pull away and for the first time that night, he was speechless.

“I’d love to be your official girlfriend, you dumb butt.” 

“Your lucky dumb butt.”

[less--beans]

so i might need a little time before i heal

despite having writer’s block for literally the last 3 months, i’ve written like 3 watt fics in the past week. here’s one that i wrote tonight!

word count: 2039

summary: Cairo's headed back to school for the first time since the infamous second sleepover. Kate finds her in the bathroom crying.

Cairo lets out a deep breath. The school looms ahead of her, students milling around in front of it, laughing and talking with their friends. 

She automatically looks for the cheer team, knowing that Riley prefers them to hang out before school, no matter how quiet and awkward it is. She sees a flash of red hair and starts to head for it-

No.

She stops, remembering. She won’t see Riley smiling, beckoning her over. She won’t sit on the stairs with her, watching the team sit awkwardly around and listening to her best friend talk. She won’t see Chess laugh at some dumb sarcastic comment Kate muttered under her breath. She won’t see Farrah try to sneak a swig of something from a flask, hiding from Annleigh’s disapproving glare. She’ll never see any of that again, because Chess and Farrah are dead. And Riley is in prison for their murder. 

Cairo falters, not knowing where to go, when her name is called. She looks over, surprised, and it turns out to be Reese who is now calling her over. She hesitantly walks in the direction, silently sending up a thanks to whoever is listening that it’s on the opposite side of campus than their normal spot. As she gets closer she realizes the rest of the team is there too, sprawled out on a staircase. It seems as if they decided to keep hanging out in the morning, even in their captain’s- former captain’s absence. 

“Good morning Cairo! Come sit with us,” Reese says with a smile. Cairo decides to try to ignore the obvious pity and hesitance in the expression and just comply. She sits on the bottom of the steps and figures she’s not going to even try and pay attention to whatever the girl is going on about. Instead, she surveys the remaining members of the team.

Kate sits at the top of the stairs alone. She doesn’t seem to be listening either, staring off across campus with an empty expression. There is an obvious gap between her and the rest of the team, as if someone were sitting there, a painful reminder of a time when someone did. Annleigh is a sharp contrast, paying too much attention. She is grinning widely, though it seems to be physically hurting her, and she’s nodding as Reese speaks. Mattie seems scared, and Cairo wonders if she feels worse for the girl they wrongfully imprisoned or the girls who lost people to whom they rightfully imprisoned. Someone drops something metal across the campus, and Mattie flinches, drawing into herself with a haunted expression on her face. Eva looks unsure of what to do, standing awkwardly. She’d never gotten to know the team before the drama of that night. Cairo almost smiles. What a wonderful first impression they’d made. 

The bell rings, loud and jarring, and Cairo startles. She hasn’t even noticed the time passing, too busy trying to adjust to the changes. She gets up and walks away without a second glance, not bothering to try and make conversation with any of the other girls as they all headed to class. There was only one person she wanted to talk to, and she’d never be able to again. 

---------------------

The bell signals the end of class, and Cairo drags herself to her feet. The two classes she’d had so far seemed to go by in a blur, but they also seemed to last forever. The colors and noises ran together, and for most of the classes she’d been left staring at the empty desk beside her. 

She makes it to her locker, trying her best not to look at the pictures she’d had hanging up in it. She is just starting to think that maybe she’ll get through the day intact when she overhears a conversation from across the hall. 

“Can you believe that we had our very own Death Of A Cheerleader right here in this town?” Cairo stiffens. She can’t believe her luck. Of all the things for the girls to be gossiping about, it has to be this?

“I just wonder what caused that girl to snap. I mean, everyone knew that team was the worst, but murder?” Riley’s comment about being “the worst team ever” plays through Cairo’s mind, and she thinks she’s going to throw up. 

“She killed only the drunk and the junkie though. Oh, and that cute boy- I wonder what she was thinking,” one girl comments thoughtfully. The other girl laughs scornfully. 

“She wasn’t. She’s, like, insane. Didn’t you hear? She had a whole breakdown-” and that’s all Cairo can stand before she’s pushing through the crowd towards the bathroom. 

She manages to make it to a stall before she throws up. It’s the little things, she thinks cynically, slumping to the floor and leaning against the wall. She realizes she’s crying with some surprise as the tears roll off her face. She wonders for a second if the splotches the tears are leaving on her jeans match the splotches the blood would’ve made and has to stop as she feels bile rising in her throat again. 

The door opens and for a second the loudness of the hallway is all she can hear before the door swings back shut and the silence returns. The girl who entered shuffles on her feet awkwardly and Cairo waits for her to go into a stall so she can leave without having to interact. Instead, the girl speaks. 

“Cairo?” With a jolt of surprise, Cairo recognizes the voice as Kate’s. Despite Cairo’s lack of response, she continues hesitantly anyway. “Cairo, I know you’re in here.” 

Cairo briefly considers pretending she’s not there before realizing she’s visible from underneath the stall. She sniffs, wipes her face, and stands up, unlocking the door. 

Kate takes one look at her and makes a move as if to hug her, but clearly thinks better of it. “The bathroom isn’t really a good place to sit. Germs on the floor.”

Cairo looks at her. “Yeah, I guess.”

“So let’s go outside.” Cairo thinks she must have lost her mind. 

“We have class,” she points out. “We can’t skip.”

“Sure we can,” Kate says, shrugging. “Come on, follow me.” Well, why not, she figures.

Cairo doesn’t really remember how they got outside. The bell must have rung, because the halls are empty, but she can’t recall hearing it. All she knows is that Kate dragged her through the building and now they’re sitting in a hidden spot in the courtyard, a place known among the students as a good place to skip class, seeing as none of the teachers know of its existence. Surprisingly, there are no other people in sight. 

“Why are we out here?” Cairo says, breaking the silence. 

Kate sighs, still not looking at her. “Like I said, the bathroom is dirty. Not a great place to sit. No one will bother us here either.”

“Yeah, but why do you care?” It isn’t a secret that Kate and Cairo have never really liked each other. Riley used to complain after practices that half Cairo’s attention was always on the other girl, not on the routines. Something about the other girl just rubbed her the wrong way, though. 

Kate finally faced her. “Because I wasn’t going to leave you sobbing your eyes out on a dirty bathroom floor.” 

Cairo scowls, opens her mouth to say something about the fact that she was not sobbing her eyes out, and closes it as she realizes that she kind of was. Kate raises an eyebrow at her, and her scowl deepens. “I would’ve left you.” 

“I know,” Kate says simply. “And I almost left you. But… I know what it’s like to lose your best friend. And it sucks. It really, really sucks. And sometimes you end up crying in a bathroom stall. And the one person who would’ve noticed you were gone and come to find you and comfort you is the one you’re missing most of all. So I wasn’t going to leave you there alone, not when she already did.” 

Cairo’s crying again. She hates crying, especially in front of Kate of all people, but she can’t help it. “You’re not supposed to be this nice.” Kate looks confused again, and she opens her mouth to say something, but Cairo cuts her off. “You’re supposed to hate me. You do hate me. And we’ve hated each other for years. I bullied you for no reason, I mocked you when Chess… when Chess died, and here you are, comforting me. And over Riley! She killed Chess! My best friend killed your best friend, and you’re comforting me for missing her.” 

She finally looks at Kate, ready for Kate to realize she’s right and yell at her before leaving, but instead Kate’s crying. “Yeah, your best friend sucks,” she admits, and Cairo lets out a surprised little choked half-laugh, and then they’re both crying harder and somehow laughing through it. Once she’s calmed down, Kate continues, “Just because we don’t often get along doesn’t mean that I’m just going to leave you crying in the bathroom alone. And I don’t think you would’ve left me either, not when it actually comes down to it. And,” she turns to Cairo, her eyes fierce and watery, “you can’t blame yourself for what Riley did. That’s not anywhere near your fault. No one could’ve seen it coming, not even you.” 

“Thanks,” Cairo says, her voice coming out as a whisper. Kate offers her a gentle smile before facing forward again. They sit quietly for a while. It feels… surprisingly nice. Cairo hadn’t realized how much she needed to vent, and now that she has, it feels like a little bit of the weight she’s been carrying has been lifted. She’s not sure how much she believes Kate, but just hearing what the other girl had said has helped her come a little closer to accepting it.

“The bell’s going to ring soon,” Kate said after some time. “We should head back in a few minutes.” Cairo nods. 

“How’s Annleigh holding up?” Cairo asks, thinking of the other girl who’d lost people that night.

“She’s- well, she’s not fine. But she’s getting there. We Skype pretty often, usually in the middle of the night, and we talk about them. Do you want to join the calls?” Kate offers. 

Cairo shakes her head. “No. No, I’m alright. But…” she hesitates. At Kate’s encouraging nod, she continues, “Can we do this again sometimes? It helped to talk.”

“Yeah, we can. Just let me know when, alright?” Kate passed her phone over. “Put your number in and just shoot me a text.”

“I already have your number, remember? Team captain and all that,” Cairo reminds her, handing the phone back. 

“Oh yeah! You’re the new team captain. I’d forgotten about that. How are you holding up with it?” Kate asks. 

“I’m worried about it. I’m not really a people person, that was always her job. I don’t think I’ll be anywhere near as good,” Cairo admits. It’s funny, she thinks. Before today she never would’ve told Kate of all people this. But there’s something about crying your eyes out with a person over your dead or imprisoned best friends that really lets you open up easily. 

“Hey, the bar’s pretty low on this one. Just don’t murder and you’ll already be doing better than she ever was,” Kate points out with a wry smile on her face. 

Cairo chuckles a bit and looks down. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You’ll do fine. Trust me.” Before Cairo has a chance to dispute this, Kate is checking her watch and standing up. “The bell is about to ring. Come on, let’s head in.” 

Cairo takes the hand offered to her and stands up as well. “Thanks again for this.” 

Kate smiles at her. “Much better than a dirty bathroom stall, isn’t it?”

Cairo laughs and smiles back. “Very much so, yes.”

The bell rings, and the halls fill with students as they sneak back in. Cairo waves to Kate and heads to her next class. The seat next to her doesn’t feel quite so empty, and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, she’ll be alright. 

[spnsmile]

Final Monday: Profound Bond

for #SPNstayAtHome Challenge by @helianthus21 @bend-me-shape-me @pray4jensen ❤ with beautiful art from @verobatto-angelxhunter  here!  ❤

When almost everyone—demons included— all but told Dean that his angel is the hottest, most devastatingly handsome angel in the face of the seven seas, he not only believed them, but he’s secretly and most exclusively Cas’ number one fan.

Cas is really the looker and even without all the buzzing acclaims from hell and earth, Dean’s already smitten from the start. Cas’ vessel is naturally attractive and really stands out with that crazy dominant eyebrow, lightning in a bottle blue eyes, cutting jaws and regal high-cheek bones— but more than the vessel, it’s the insane hot angel beneath trench coat that makes his insides swoon.

Dean can’t explain it—every time Castiel just goes all out wrecking doors, walls, even smashing on cars and smite a whole pack of demons and monsters alike in a blink of an eye— now that—that is really hot!

So he doesn’t blame them from noticing his strapping companion, he actually isn’t that surprised when someone approaches them one day to scout Cas to be a model while they are in a middle of a Djinn case.

“Dean is my model,” replies the angel with that dorky side tilt, getting Dean’s stomach to flutter.

“No, Cas he meant uh, you know… they wanna take pictures of you, you posting like Mr. Calendar,”

“Why?” Cas says sharply.

Dean tries his best to explain but at the end of the day, and because they still need to monitor the case on a closer level, they agreed with talent scout to have a screen testing the next day. Dean was also asked but he politely declined. The worse thing he can land himself in as a hunter is to be under the public scrutiny who will follow his every movement.

Cas on the other hand has a lesser risk because Cas doesn’t care. The angel is an enigma and can get himself out of situations with one flap of his wings.

So here they are, just another day with another case inside a studio with Dean trying to focus his attention to any supernatural occurrence around, but really the only supernatural thing happening at the moment will be Castiel half-naked in a setup of white clouds and overcast skies for of a Bruce Almighty segment.

And Cas’ theme?

Angels.

Dean still can’t stop laughing at the irony and kept the hilarity of knowing how no one is capable of cracking any expression from the angel’s stony face.

It was all fun at first when Castiel was dragged away and Dean was hollering when he spoke to Sam over the phone about the developments of the Djinn case preying on dreamers in the modelling agency that has killed two victims so far. He waited for Cas to come out imagining the long white toga the angel would be wearing like one of those pictures of angels with harps. Cas hates those representations and Dean can’t wait to bawl his eyes out laughing.

Meanwhile, Dean smiles and winks at beautiful models passing by and to his credit, they all give him a disgusted look. Oh well. No one likes the police these days.

He was busy ogling at himself in one of those giant reflectors when Castiel’s team came out. Dean was ready to make fun of him imagining Cas finally in proper angel dress— only to get a slap in the face when he sees Castiel stripped off his trench coat and toga—but was wearing a blue tight jean showing a well-shaped round ass and loose white button-down shirt where the barest of holy skin is peeking.

[sexy Cas art here]

Dean gasps, electric shock hitting him straight to Manhattan because holy fuck this isn’t what he was expecting—what the hell happened to the angel theme?

It didn’t help that almost everyone has the same reaction and if the photographer wasn’t there barking his directions, Dean’s sure Castiel will be smothered to death.

“That magazine is going to be sold out.” Says one of the crew guys standing behind the lighting next to Dean, “I’ve never seen anyone so… cute and hot and…” a struggle for the right words then— “divine. How does he do that?”

“Exists?” Dean drawls with arms tightly crossed on his chest. The crew guy beside him snorts.

“He can easily get followers and we need models with huge fan base online, you know, free advertising.”

Dean half-rolled his eyes at the crew member mesmerized by the amateur model. Half an hour later, green eyes following Castiel’s every movement in the middle of a battlefield of flashing cameras and light reflectors, of smothering group of stylists with powders ready at hand and demanding photographers asking for a ridiculous mood board— and what’s with all those hands touching Castiel?

Dean can’t help feeling sour every time the assistant manager runs to Cas’ side just to dust his shoulder, open his collar more or when he simply tilts Castiel’s jaw the right way—Dean is livid—who touches his angel so casually with grubby hands!?

And he’s beyond control when he sees the man opening Castiel’s button-down wider like—just strip them out stop teasing! Dean finds himself shrinking to the wall while murmuring curses and snapping on the phone every time Sam calls. They have work to do and Sam’s been constantly asking for updates while he works the field over the victim’s family for any lead to follow and Dean only has eyes for his angel being instructed by the photographer. Cas was bewildered at first with all the goading and salacious comments, Dean cringing for his friend. Castiel looked miffed at some point, but Dean can’t go to his side yet. If he does, he might grab him and leave the premises and that’s not being professional.

They need to find the Djinn among these people soon.

Standing in the sideline watching his friend try different angle that surprisingly fits him— except the photographer is losing his patience with the dorky angel who doesn’t understand structure and context—

“This is like a dance, move those sexy hips, give me suave look, pout lips— that’s grumpy, baby—give me seduction—yes those blues, seduce me— seduce me, don’t murder me! That’s it, you got this sweetheart, make me melt with that look! Melt me—melt—where are you going—?”

“You said melt you—I” he raises a hand—

Dean nearly jumps from the wall to stop Cas smiting any hollering directors but then—

“Go back in position, sweetheart, don’t make me lose all my hair where you can’t see them—okay, look devious—devious—don’t frown— imagine a blade in your hand. Now that’s fantastic, a tilt of the head? Adorable, now quit that, we’re aiming for sex appeal! Now make me want to have you—pout those sexy lips—pout, pucker them—forward—no, don’t slump forward you’re not Quasimodo’

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“Give me passion—give me something you want so badly!”

Castiel glances at Dean.

“He’s not bad,” Dean grunts to himself as he meets the blue eyes. Castiel pulls back and stares up the sky. Dean doesn’t know what he sees there but the sigh that came out is drawn long.

When the photographer exhaustingly shouted five minutes break, Dean watches Cas get crowded by the stylists to one corner, hearing them praise the angel about not sweating and giving him googly eyes.

Dean leaves the room and heads straight to the vending machine stations. He was just about to push for a coke when two members of the crew stop beside him to use the next vending machine supplying chocolate bars. Dean would have ignored them except one of them says Cas’ fake agent name.

“Wright? Got everything wrong. Yeah, he got the face but he’s so stupid. Giovanni’s giving all the best instructions and the model just stands there like a wall. Doesn’t even bat an eyelid, he’s like a hammer, at least a hammer is lethal, that Wright guy doesn’t know any instructions.”

“You know what they say about pretty faces, they lack a brain.” says his companion. They snicker and press for chocolate bars.

Dean remains silent as two cokes slide down the port with clanking sounds. He bends to take them quietly.

“The bar is stuck,” says one of the crew members.

“Don’t add to my shit day, it’s a long day already with that useless model—” A loud crashing sound breaks in the corridor as Dean slams his fist on the metal side of the machine. The chocolate bars fall on the slot with the crew’s mouth hanging open.

“Your bars.” He says, walking away but not without leaving a huge dent on the corner of the machine. He hears the whispers after him, the comments about the public property but Dean doesn’t care. He could easily smash their faces but he’s not that violent.

He gotta get Cas out of there.

Speaking of the angel, Cas is immediately in his space the moment Dean returns in the studio.

“Dean,” he says in his usual gravely voice, “where did you go? Are you okay?”

“Hey, how’s the pretty model?” Dean dismisses him as he let his eyes roam the model’s gorgeous new look as he hands Cas his coke. “You don’t look bad, Cas, you’re killing it there.” Actually, killing them, he adds thoughtfully.

Castiel raises a hand to reach the refreshment, but he ends up pulling Dean’s other hand.

“Thank you, now why is your hand hurt?” blue eyes stare at him dead in the eyes. That kind that really goes straight to your soul.

Dean swallows hard. He can never understand why Castiel cares so much. He’s spent years without anyone watching his back and now he’s got his own angel. Dean really doesn’t know who to thank for that.

“Nothing,” Dean tries to pull his hand to no avail, “The vending machine was broken, had to get my money’s worth,”

“I don’t think that is a good displace of a public officer,” Castiel raises it closer to his lips and kisses the pain away.

“An angel would know, huh?” Dean sighs upon feeling Castiel’s grace smoothen the slight tingling pain and pulls his hand back once Castiel lets him. Castiel’s eyes are still intent on him.

“What’s the development with the Djinn?”

“Uh… yeah, Sam’s on it and since you’re playing the sexy bait—”

“I don’t think any Djinn would find me appealing,” Castiel confesses and it’s too adorable not to take the chance to tease so Dean grins.

“Oh, come on, who knows? You might marry one someday?”

“Angels don’t marry.”

“Sure, they don’t, they also don’t do modelling,”

 “Well, I’m not attracting them right now as I am anyone in this place, I’m failing you, Dean, I’m sorry.”

“Are you kidding? You’re like hot captain garrison out there—very good mood play with the face, it’s so uh—angelically unreadable, and nice button toss,” Dean reaches a hand to Castiel’s collar and in swift movements, because his hands have been itching, he buttons it all the way up Castiel’s throat. “Let’s just not show too much when your off-duty.”

“Off-duty?”

“Off—like uh turn off the sense responsibility?”

“I see,” Castiel narrows his eyes. “The basic human response when feeling lethargic. Indifference to things that do not directly harm them. I am not that. I am feeling quite fit, in fact, even when my thighs can’t freely move from this…  suffocating jeans,”

They both look down the angel’s thighs and Dean licks his lips. When opportunity just presents itself, who is he to deny himself the pleasure? But then—

“It’s impossible to get in that dress alone—Cas did they—?”

“I ripped two pairs,” Castiel says quietly. Dean stops, eyes wide.

“W-what?”

“I tried putting them on my own, they won’t fit. I tore them to shreds whenever I pull it up, so they had to help me,”

Dean makes a face, “Yep, dorky Hercules,”

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“Sam ripped his jeans once too,” Dean smiles from ear to ear, “We were digging and he’s so tall and his jeans are frigging tight and he bents down and—" he makes a tearing sound which makes Castiel slowly smile.

“That I understand.”

Dean laughs.

“You do. Look, Cas, I know the photographer’s being a hard dick on you…but it’s not your fault you can’t understand the references because we’re the ones not adjusting to you… now look here, buddy… you can’t trick a fish to climb a tree so it’s okay to just be you…um… you get what I mean?”

Castiel is still smiling softly. “I understand you are trying to comfort me,”

Dean shrugs. “Is it working?”

Castiel tips his head, “Have you been a model, Dean?”

“I’ve been everywhere,” Dean tells him mysteriously and gives his friend a pat on the shoulders, “So later you’ll go get em, little tiger,”

Castiel nods

“Excuse me, Mr Wright?” they both turn to a young lady in a black crew shirt with a clipboard is standing behind the angel. “We need to set up your wings for the next op,”

“Set up my wings?” Castiel quickly turns at Dean and if that doesn’t get the hunter to act quickly, nothing will. He immediately holds Castiel’s shoulder and tightened his grip so his friend doesn’t interrupt.

“Where is it? I’m going to help him,”

“There’s really no need, we have plenty of staff—"

“I insist,” Dean gives her his most brilliant flashing smile and she quickly points the direction of the props room. Dean drags Castiel there.

Dean picks up a fake white wing with wires and holsters and shows it to Cas who easily frowns who presses it back to Dean’s hands.

“I have wings,”

“Yeah, not like you can let people see the shadow flip-flap thing, okay?”

“Flip flap thing?” Castiel repeats uncertainly, eyebrows raising. Dean shrugs.

“You know, making your ginormous shadow show in the flashing lights—you can’t do that. They want a model and yeah, they need to do marketing, but not that kind. No flip-flap of wings,” Dean throws the wings back at the table.

“I will use my wings I just have to contain my power so it doesn’t break into its real form.”

“You can do that?”

“I can do anything.” Castiel’s eyes suddenly glow without warning and Dean steps back as Castiel raises his magnificent wings with the cracking sparks of fluorescent lamp and there is Castiel, the angel of the lord, in all his glory and dorkiness included max out—Dean’s eyes reflect and behold its beauty. Until the power steadily holds and shrinks down to a fitting one enough at least to make him fit a door.

The power in the air subsides and Dean realizes how he is holding his breath. The beauty of his friend did not strike him in its real essence until now—where Castiel is actually bare in front of him with his black wings’ appearance. He exhales and stands next to the angel where he can see his wings.

It strikes Dean yet again how Castiel is an angel. But every time he looks at his friend, in this form, in this vessel, he's just ultimately... Cas. 

"That's fucking hot, Cas,"

Castiel smiles all gummily. "Thank you, Dean."

“Can mortal eyes see this now?”

“Yes,"

Dean whistles. Then there's that question that's been itching to be said, a question Dean knows won't leave him in peace if he doesn't ask now. Because it's now or never.

“Uh...Cas...can I touch it?”

Castiel's glance is an automatic sharp look that Dean can describe as a shock, but then the angel nods slightly without looking at him. He doesn’t reach. Something about Castiel’s reaction is bugging him.

“Are you sure I can?”

“Yes, please."

Dean takes him to his word and runs his fingers on the wings, his fingers sinking on the soft feathers like it’s made of cloud. Castiel trembles under his touch with a slight moan escaping his lips. Dean stares and sees the tip of Castiel’s ears are red.

"It's beautiful..." Dean licks his lips, "Cas... you... you're truly magnificent, have I told you that?"

"Not in so many words," Castiel doesn't look at him.

Dean just knows he is also having a mental breakdown.

“C-Cas?”

“It’s fine,” the angel whispers, head bent. “Just a little… it’s never been touched by human hands.”

Dean wavers on the spot and takes steps back in shock.

“Y-you mean—I’m the first one—I’m your first?!”

Castiel glances over his shoulder, his eyes leveled. He nods. "What's mine is yours, Dean. I'm yours."

Dean Winchester's head is a puddle melted and stirred by none other than the hottest angel in the garrison. He wants to tell Castiel never to say something like that- not when they are in a room alone because Dean is only a man- instead, he pulls Cas into a deep kiss. It's unexpected and truly catching them both in surprise, but when Castiel doesn't pull, Dean sighs and holds Castiel's shoulders steady. He doesn't know if he can tell Castiel that, but Cas is one of the best kissers he knows attributed to the pizzaman. 

To Dean's delight, Castiel kisses him back. It's swift and lingering when Cas bites his bottom lip and runs their tongue together in a dance. He never thought he'd be kissing Cas like this. Then there's the noise Cas makes, especially when Dean runs his palms on the smooth surface of his chest. Dean pulls only to breathe because angels don't do that, the moment he does, Castiel is there capturing his mouth in another heated kiss and Dean drowns in him.

Castiel is absurdly hot. All the bumps and contours his palm lands into, Dean can't help getting electrified. He knows he is getting hard and there's only one thing left to do- he slips his right knee between Castiel's legs and grinds his steadily hardening groin on Castiel's thighs. The sensation is instantaneous and Castiel doesn't let up. The angel kisses him between the soft moan and sighs that all can Dean do is cling tight on the angel's hipbones. He wants to do many things to Cas aside from pressing hard on him with hands roaming all sacred places that make Cas catch his breath too. He wants to tell Cas to take them away but the thought of his brother facing a Djinn stops all his thoughts.

But he promises himself he will take this. He and Cas, later, tonight, they will have this.

Dean pulls back knowing anyone can come to get the model and when he did, Castiel flaps his wings demandingly, frowning at Dean's withdrawal. Dean doesn't know what to say to that so instead, he soothes the angel by running his hands on the smooth surface of the wings. He sees Castiel's eyes droop, sees the contortion of eyebrows leaving the heavenly forehead, knows that Cas is relaxing under his care. There's a long sigh when Dean is done and he stares at his shaking hands next.

“Dean, can you stay beside me,” Castiel says looking slightly put out and Dean quickly steps right into his space and stares Castiel in the eyes. Castiel doesn't even question the kiss. Dean thinks they still need to talk about it later. For now...

“What’s up?”

“I don’t want anyone else touching it,” Castiel says deadly serious. Dean is about to point to himself but the angel holds his gaze and adds, “Except you.”

Dean wants to hide his face somewhere.

“Dean, are you okay? Your face is red—Dean?” Dean turns away from the angel, body reaching boiling point if he thinks more about what else Castiel is allowing him to do when his phone rings. Still a little shaken, he answers softly only to be greeted by his impatient brother—

“Dammit, Dean! I’ve been trying to reach you for a full ten minutes! I got the Djinn in the warehouse—you may want to help me out! And stop making a pass at Cas! Now is not that time!”

So the kiss was only ten minutes?

“I’m not making a pass, give me the location, bitch,” Dean listens carefully and once he’s done, he turns to the angel apologetically. Castiel’s expression turns serious.

“I understand, we are here for a case, after all, I am sorry my job is in your way.”

Dean stares at him in awe.

“Cas, you’re not a real model, we’re ditching this job!”

There’s a beat.

“Oh.”

They were just about to leave the building when Castiel remembers to get his trench coat. Making a side trip back to the changing areas, Dean meets Sam halfway who informs him the Djinn has been taken care of no thanks to Dean daydreaming about his model boyfriend.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Anyway, where’s Cas?”

There’s a scream from the changing room.

The Winchesters exchanged glances and together they run inside to find Castiel standing in the middle of the room wings spread out and on his hands is the talent scout they’ve spoken to yesterday. Dean’s mind reels—is this another Djinn?

No, that’s human!

“Hey, Cas—no, no we don’t smite talent scouts!” Dean hurries beside the angel, firm grasp on his arm as he tugs it back, causing the talent scout to fall on the floor coughing. Sam is beside him at once while Dean deals with the hot-headed-angel. “Cas, what the hell!”

“He says he wants you,” Castiel growls back, pure anger hatred in his eyes.

“What?”

“He says he wants to take you and you have given me permission to defend myself

Dean throws the talent scout a dirty look. “What exactly did you say to him?

“I said I wanted to recruit you, okay?”

“Not your exact words,” Dean narrows his eyes. The talent scout grimaces.

“I said I want you, that’s it, is it hard to understand? I want him too,” the talent points at Sam while massaging his throat, “You brothers would make the best boxer models,”

Dean blinks at Sam who stares back in disgust.

“No, thanks,” his brother says, “not my dream come true.”

“Might be mine,” Dean turns to the agent, “Okay, dude, here’s the thing—we’re done being models and frankly, it’s not even the safest job. Now leave Cas alone too, he’s cut for it, but not for us...”

“What made you choose him anyway?” Sam wants to know. Dean throws his brother an incredulous look.

“The man was smiling like a real angel when I saw him, of course, I’d recruit him.”

And Dean looks back to when it was before the scout approached them, he and Castiel standing side by side and talking about the most mundane things Dean has done that day. It’s weird because not once has Castiel said about not understanding reference when the topic is about Dean.

Castiel gets him. Dean is his reference. It makes sense.

Sliding an arm around Castiel’s shoulder, he pulls him closer and smiles.

“Come on, Cas, time to go home.”

Castiel slowly looks at him, really looks deep inside his soul, and the angel smiles—and Dean’s glad he can crack that from such a handsome face.

“Yes, Dean.”❤

-end- ao3- ❤

Thank you for giving us this escape during quarantine! We enjoyed it! :)

[pixelatedrose]

Soulbound part Four

First | Previous | Part 4 | Next

Ao3 link

Masterpost

Word Count: 3,212

Pairings: Platonic LAMP, Prinxiety, Logicality, background Remile

Warnings: Implied self harm (Skip the part starting with “Virgil drug himself over...” until the break) Uncensored swearing, divorced parents, controlling parents/parents not respecting kids’ privacy (Skip the entire last part), absent siblings,  if there’s anything I missed please please tell me, and if there’s anything you would like me to tag, don’t hesitate to ask!

Summary:

Roman Prince and Logan Rose are soulmates. They’re platonic soulmates though. They both have the same Soul mark to prove it. But they both have one other soul mark, binding them to one other person. And when they find Patton Miles, it just so happens that they’re both his soulmate. Logan being his Soulbound Soulmate, and Roman being a platonic soulmate. But something feels missing. And it feels filled, shockingly so, when they meet a certain someone a year and a half after they found each other.

Chapter 4

  Virgil ran home as fast as his legs would carry him. His mind raced as quickly as shoes hit the ground, faster still.

  Why is he here? Why is he a teacher? Why did he come back? Why did he act like he cared? Why come back now? Why was he never here before? Why? Why why why?!

  Virgil tripped and the gods of luck put on blindfolds as he was flung to the sidewalk. He knelt on the ground and thought it had started raining. He looked around and when he saw clear skies he realized he'd been crying.

  Virgil looked at his shallowly bleeding scrapes on his palms and knees before picking himself up and walking home, storming inside the unusual yellow door, slamming it closed and stomping up to his mother, ignoring her girlfriend sitting nearby.

  "Virgey, you're home! How was school-" his mother started.

  "Did you know about this?!" He spat bitterly.

  "What?! What do you mean, Honey? What happened? Oh my god, your hands!! Virgey, are you okay?!"

  Virgil hid his hands further into his sleeves. "That doesn't matter right now!! I want to know why Thomas is my fucking theater teacher!!" Virgil seethed.

  His mother blanched. "Oh no…" she turned to her girlfriend. "Rachel, maybe you should go?"

  Virgil watched as his mother's girlfriend got up and gathered her things as she slowly left the house.

  "Now, Virgey, I didn't think that you-"

  "You didn't think at all, Mom!!" Virgil snapped. "Did you know?! Did you know and think not to tell me?! Did you think that it would be too hard for me?! Did you think I'd burst into tears like a little kid?! Didn't want to deal with me finding out so you just didn't tell me at all!!"

  "No!! That's- that's not!! No!! I didn't mean for-" Virgil's mother was floundering for words to comfort her son.

  "It doesn't even matter anymore, I don't care!!" Virgil yelled, he ran upstairs and into his room. He slammed the door shut and pulled out a crude hand-made door stop and wedged it under the door. Years ago the lock had broken. Years ago the lock had been removed.

  Virgil couldn't stand anymore. He fell to the ground and held his stomach. He felt sick.

  His mother had lied to him.

  His brother- who had everything, who had the world, the one that had never made a show to ever reach out and contact Virgil, the one who would never want to contact him because he had it all- was his theater teacher in his new highschool.

  He had no friends.

  He had no family.

  He had no one.

  Virgil drug himself over to the edge of his bed and pulled out a small box with an assortment of blades, lighters, and a small square of sandpaper. He fished out the edge of a pencil sharpener and-

  "Virgey please let me talk to you!!"

  Virgil didn't answer.

  "Please I need you to understand!!"

  Virgil didn't need to understand anything else.

  "Please, honey, open the door!!"

  Virgil removed his hoodie. He couldn't stand the heat his room gave off. That's a good excuse.

  "Please at least tell me you're safe this time!!" His mother pleaded with him.

  But nothing could be done.

  Nothing could stop the manic anxiety that took him over. Words played over and over in his head and he felt like he was going insane so he focused on the pain digging into his shoulder instead of his own numbingly intoxicating insanity.

  Nothing would make this okay for Virgil.

~~•~~

  Roman was walking home and mulling over what had happened that day.

  Rose was a good friend of Roman's, but she was a little oblivious at times. She'd pulled him away from the pretty emo boy when Roman had seen him in theater.

  Theater… Roman smiled. He would have never pegged the shorter boy as a theater kid. His head started spinning up daydreams of Roman and Virgil performing scenes together, painting props together, singing duets together for the musical…

  Roman shook his head to clear it. It seemed like Virgil wasn't interested though. He probably has his own soulmate, you idiot! Roman thought bitterly.

  He walked in through his family's door and tossed his currently half empty backpack on the ground before flopping down on the couch with a dramatic sigh.

  Remus always stayed after school to hang out with his weirdo friends, so he wouldn't be home for a while.

  Roman tried thinking of other things.

  So he thought back to lunch.

~~•~~

  "Did you hear that Remy and Emile are a couple?" Patton excitedly told his friends as he sat down at the table.

  "They've been together for almost three years, Patton dear." Logan corrected his boyfriend.

  Patton smiled. "Oh I know! But they're still so cute together!!"

  "Patton, they're Soulbound Soulmates, of course they're cute." Logan continued.

  "You're missing the point!! They're a-dor-a-ble, Logan!! ADORABLE!!"

  "I'm not seeing what it is I missed. Is this some sort of complex joke that I'm not 'Gucci' enough to get?"

  "That is not in any way how you use that word, honey child."

  "Ah well. I'm still learning."

  Patton looked suddenly over to Roman who was thoughtfully chewing on a sandwich. "Hey there, buddy! You're pretty quiet, you feeling alright there, Ro?"

  Roman snapped his attention away from daydreaming. "Huh?? Oh yeah! I'm gucci as always, padre!" He said strikingly.

  "Ah so that's how you use it…" Logan muttered as he seemed to study Roman from behind his glasses.

  "Are you sure? You looked a little lost in la-la land there!" Patton ignored his robotic boyfriend, save for an instinctual hair ruffle that made Logan's face light up.

  Roman looked out the window like the mellow-dramatic princeling he was. "Oh its nothing really…" he sighed. "See, I just met this really cute guy in-"

  "OH MY GOOD GRACIOUS SNAP CRACKLERS YOU MET A CUTE GUY!!!" Patton nearly flung himself across the table and grappled his friend in a hug.

  Roman nearly fell out of his chair on impact and had to pry the overly excited puppy-dog of a man off him. "Gah!! Yeah! But!" Roman started.

  Patton immediately pulled himself off Roman. "Wait there's a but?!"

  "Yes…tragically I believe he is not…" Roman threw the back of his hand to his forehead and dramatically tilted his head. "Attracted to me!!"

  Logan snorted and Patton gasped somberly.

  "Oh no that's just plain awful Roman!!" Patton lamented.

  Roman smiled all the same. "Awh, Pat! He's probably one of those soulmate obsessed…" Roman drifted off as he remembered Virgil's immediate and harsh reply to his question. "...People." He let himself finish the sentence anyway. For some odd reason he wanted to keep his suspicions to himself.

  "Awh, well next time then!! Right Ro!"

  Roman's mind drifted to the purple haired boy he'd met.

  "Ro?"

  There was something about talking to him that felt so very right in Roman's mind. It felt similar to how he felt around Patton and Logan. But yet different still…

  "Roman??"

  Why does he wish soulmarks didn't exist? Roman thought, recalling the striking blue of the purple haired boy's eyes.

  "Roman!"

  Roman drifted, thinking of everything and nothing about the boy he had met in his third period. Virgil Sanders… he thought his name felt good to think… "Virgil Sanders…" he breathed out. He thought it felt good to say…

  "ROMAN-!!"

~~•~~

  Roman shot up on the couch, and grabbed at his shoulder which felt as if he had sliced it open.

  He cursed and gripped it tightly, running to the bathroom to see what could possibly be wrong. Roman threw off his red varsity jacket and pulled up his short sleeves to examine his left shoulder.

  There was nothing there.

  It wasn't even red.

  The pain faded down to a dull ache and Roman sat back down on the couch bewildered.

  What the fuck just happened??

~~•~~

  Patton skipped alongside his boyfriend, their hands clasped tightly together.

  Logan smiled softly to himself, hearing the short, golden haired boy hum to himself.

  "Hey, Lo?" Patton questioned suddenly.

  "Yes, Patton?"

  "Do you think Roman's okay?"

  "Why do you say that? I do not think he would injure himself on his walk home, nor do I believe he would have fallen ill in that time either."

  "No no, silly!! I mean emotionally."

  "Ah. My bad. I am not very good with...emotions."

  "I know you struggle sometimes, but even you saw the way he was acting today, right? He was totally distracted and had his head ten billion trillion gazillion miles away!! I hope he's okay…"

  "I see. Yes, Roman did seem very distracted today. Though I suppose that may be because he was a little wonderstruck with the boy he mentioned."

  "What?! Really? I thought Roman said that kid didn't like him though?"

  "Well perhaps, but you know how easily he can become so infatuated with pretty boys the moment they open their mouth to even breath. And this boy held a conversation with Roman, so that concludes that Roman must be 'Head over heels' for this boy."

  "Psh, nah!! Maybe a little flirty, but Roman doesn't have it that bad!! But do you know who does?"

  "And who would that be, Patton?"

  "Me!"

  "Oh."

  "And you!!"

  "Oh come now!! I care very deeply about you and-"

  "Oh just kiss me already, you dork!"

  Logan sighed and laughed, his face lighting up at his boyfriend. "Only as you wish, my dearest."

~~•~~

  Thomas Sanders had a good life as a kid.

  He got decent grades, he made good friends, he was a little confused why he never liked girls like every other boy in his grade did. And even more confused when he thought his friend Michael looked just so cute when he was singing.

  Thomas Sanders had a good life as a kid.

  Up until his parents split up when he was 13 years old.

  His father won custody and took Thomas across states to go live in Georgia where he lived for the rest of his childhood years until he moved back to Florida with new friends.

  He started playing around with an app called Vine, and whether it was luck or skill, made it big. He made a Youtube channel and made videos online. He wrote songs and sung disney songs and reacted to other people. And he loved his fans. He loved them with all his heart.

  It was when he was 25 that he got a message from someone in his old childhood town telling him he had a brother.

  He had a brother?

  Thomas Sanders had a little brother!

  And he was ten years old and his name was Virgil Sanders!

  Thomas sat down and decided to write a letter to his little brother. He wanted to know him! He wanted to meet him! He wanted to be part of his life!

  Dear, Virgil Sanders.

  This is a letter I'm writing to you because I want you to know that you have a big older brother who loves you and just found out that you exist! My name is Thomas Sanders and I want to know more about you! I want to know you! Did you know that I always wanted a little brother? I guess it's not a wish anymore, huh? Write me back, little bro! Tell me about yourself! Tell me about life! Tell me about mom and how school is going!!

  Sincerely and dearly from, Thomas Sanders, your older brother.

  That was perfect! Thomas couldn't wait to hear back from his little brother!

  He couldn't wait to find out whether he liked sour foods or minty ones!

  He couldn't wait to talk about boys (or girls) with him!

  Thomas never heard back from Virgil.

  So he sent another letter, this time on what he discovered was Virgil's birthday.

  He never heard back.

  Thomas would send a letter to Virgil every year on his birthday, one for christmas, one for Halloween, one for the beginning of the school year and one for the end, and one every valentines day with a purple rose.

  And he never once heard back.

  Now Thomas was 30 years old and had decided to become a teacher.

  A total of 36 letters, soon to be 37, sent to Virgil.

  Even if Virgil didn't want to talk to Thomas, he still wanted to try.

  And then.

  He found out that Virgil Sanders was his own student.

  And he found out that his brother hated him.

  So here Thomas was.

  Standing awkwardly with his hand raised to knock on the yellow door of his old childhood home.

  And he let he fist fall to the wood.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  "I'm coming! I'm coming!" A hurried voice called from inside.

  The door opened.

  "What is it, what do you-"

  The voice cut off.

  Thomas waved awkwardly.

  "Hey, mom. How's it going?"

~~•~~

  Virgil heard the door open and someone come inside. He quietly creaked his door open.

  "-want to talk to him. Please?"

  Virgil's breath hitched. It was Thomas.

  "No...No...No I don't think that he'd be ready to see you right now, Tommy."

  Virgil sat and listened to the conversation.

~~•~~

  Thomas glanced over at the counters and the ashtray on the coffee table. Beer cans and cigarettes littered everything.

  "I see you haven't changed much." He meant it as a question, but it fell flat and turned into an observation.

  "And what's wrong with how I am?" His mother asked accusingly.

  Thomas looked at his mother and shook his head. "Nevermind…" he looked down at a discarded and trashy school backpack. "I take it he didn't take kindly to the letters? Didn't want to see me? You know I told you I was applying for Eastwood. You could have told me not to you know."

  "Well I mean I didn't want to reach out to you and have Virgey find out!" Thomas cringed at the childish nickname. It didn't sound like something Virgil would want to be called. "And I never gave him the letters." His mother finished.

  Thomas froze as thoughts raced through his head. "What." He breathed out.

  "You really think he'd be ready to confront his older brother? You really think he'd want to see you?"

  "That wasn't your decision to make though!"

  "Of course it was, I'm his mother!"

  "That doesn't give you a right to withhold information from him like that!"

  "Yes! It does! He can decide what information he wants when he turns 18! For now, I'm his mother, I decide what's best for him!"

  Thomas ran a hand through his hair, distressed. "You know I wasn't trying to be entirely serious when I said you hadn't changed, but you really have not changed one bit, have you?!"

  "There was nothing wrong with what I was doing before!"

  "Oh yeah? Then how come I didn't even know I had a little brother till he was 10?!"

  "Because he wasn't ready for that! And neither were you! I didn't want you to think I'd moved on from you!"

  "I was 25, mom!! Twenty!! Five!! I was old enough to make my own decisions and Virgil was old enough that he could decide if he wanted an older brother and back then it wasn't too late for me to be a part of his life!!"

  "He was 10 and he didn't know what was best for him!! And he still doesn't!! I'm his mother!"

  "You keep saying that but do you even know what that means?! It means that you're always there for them!! It means that you let them make mistakes!! It means that you give them privacy and a choice!!"

  "He can have Privacy when he's moved out! Till then what he has I know about! I'm his mother and I get to decide!"

  "That's not how that works!!"

  "It most certainly is!! He just doesn't know what's good for him! And you are definitely not good for him!!"

  "Is that why you kept the letters from him?! Cause that's what was best for him?!"

  "What?! No!! He just-"

  "You were afraid then?! Why didn't even give me a chance?!"

  "Because you are not good for him!! Right now or ever!! I know best I'm the adult here and I make the decisions and I decide that you will go and-"

  "MOM JUST SHUT UP!!" Virgil shouted. No one had noticed when he had walked downstairs. His eyes were red and his jacket was wrinkled. "What letters?" He asked calmly.

  No one answered.

  "Mom, what letters are you hiding from me?!" He voice cracked and choked.

  "Virgey, honey, it was for your own good-"

  "TO HELL WITH THAT!!" Virgil shouted, tears spilling over down his face.

  Thomas spoke now. "I wrote you letters." He said. When no one tried to stop him, he continued. "When I found out I had a brother, I immediately sat down and wrote a letter to you. I wanted to know more about you, I wanted to be part of your life." Thomas took a breath. "That was about five years ago. And i never heard back. I assumed you didn't want to know me. But I didn't stop writing letters. I found out when your birthday was and sent you a letter yearly, and I always sent one for christmas, Halloween, and Valentines day. I sent one at the beginning and one at the end of every school year too." He pulled a wrinkled envelope out of his pocket and held it in his hands. "This one was going to be for this year, but I got caught up in moving and beginning my teaching that I didn't get it in on time." Thomas took a step and held out the envelope to Virgil.

  He took it and read the handwriting that looked so real. It wasn't perfect cursive or some fancy calligraphy, it was normal and real handwriting. It read:

  To Virgil Sanders. From Thomas Sanders.

  Virgil wiped at his face, smearing his makeup. He looked up at his mom.

  "You hid this from me…?"

  "Oh, honey it was all for your own good! You know how-"

  "How what?!" Virgil spat venom. "You knew how much I wanted to know my brother!! You knew how I thought he had left with his dad and just didn't care enough about us to come and talk!!" More tears. "You knew and you didn't once tell me that I had a brother who was kind and cared about me!!!"

  Virgil was shaking. He ran upstairs and his mother would hear the door to her room slam shut as Virgil rummaged around until he found the box under her bed full of 36 letters that his brother had sent him.

  No one moved.

  No one breathed.

  No one spoke for a long time.

  "I think I'll see him tomorrow." He turned to the front door. "Goodbye, Deva." He said.

  And the odd yellow door clicked shut.

  And all that was left in the old eerie house was a wronged child looking for five lost years, a mother who had tried to drown the inevitable with broken locks and promises, and a silence that bit like the way a cat silently does with prey already caught.

Tag list:

@anxietea-and-insanitea

@ghostboi-bambi

@scrunchiescrunchie

@badluckkaren

@ambrechandra

[turquoise-stones]

Edge of Insanity Ch. 6: Where From Now?

yandere!Todoroki x fem!reader

previous chapter, masterlist for older chapters

. . .

"...and yesterday I didn't really say what I wanted clearly so to reiterate... I promise that I would never do anything like that. I want to be a hero and I swear I will become one, on my own terms, with my own hard work." You stated firmly, slightly breathless from the long rambling speech you just gave to your classmates.

"And I would never let you guys down like that..." you said, suddenly growing shy as you became more aware of everyone's unblinking gaze. "So please believe me."

You glanced at Uraraka, and she gave you a discrete thumbs up.

"We believe you, (y/n)," Yaoyorozu called out. "Or at least I believe you. If it's your word over a stranger's, I'll definitely trust you."

Murmurs of agreement sounded throughout the classroom and you let out the breath you had been holding.

"Yeah! They don't know that you're the best (y/n)! Whoever said you paid your way here should go to hell!" Kirishima said, clapping his fist into his hand. Louder murmurs started, and you almost started crying from relief. You let out a string of thank yous, before taking your seat. You beamed at your classmates, happy beyond measure that the crisis was finally over.

"Okay, so now that that's done, homeroom is just about over," Aizawa grumbled, not even bothering to sit up from his sleeping bag on the floor. "Just go early. And exit quietly."

. . .

"That was very eloquent, (y/n)!" Iida said enthusiastically, giving you a (mildly painful) congratulatory clap on the back. "Very well worded. I particularly enjoyed the 'jealousy breeds spite' part."

"T-thank you. I'm glad it's done. And I'm sorry for doubting you guys. I was just so out of it..."

"You should be sorry!" Uraraka admonished. "When you ran away yesterday we were so worried!"

"Sorry sorry..." you muttered, embarrassed but still so thankful that you had a group of supportive friends at your side.

"And if anything like that happens again in the future, please let us know immediately!" Midoriya quipped, looking at you with big eyes. You nodded, promising you would and giving him a big smile. It was almost dreamlike, how lucky and loved you suddenly felt.

Midoriya's eyes suddenly widened and he turned away. "Ah! By the way, Iida..."

The conversation diverged from there, and you took the opportunity to take a few bites of lunch. Yesterday was so hectic, it felt good to just hang out with your friends again. Maybe today would go by without a hitch.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better." Todoroki said quietly into your ear. You jumped from the feeling of his breath and your head snapped up to him before you quickly glanced away with a flush. You hadn't spoken a word to him since that incident in the storage room. You were grateful that he sought you out and comforted you of course, but it was just... awkward now. And despite your best efforts to avoid him earlier today, he managed to slip next to you during lunch.

"I am. Thank you for... being there, Todoroki." you turned redder as you tried to find the words, cursing yourself for getting so flustered.

It wasn't like you meant to pull away from him like that either. It was just staggering to wake up in the lap of someone you admired and respected so much, tangled up in such an embarrassingly intimate way. And because of your reaction, he probably thought you weren't interested in him when that couldn't be further from the truth.

He looked down at his lunch, suddenly deep in thought. You chewed at your lip as an awkward silence fell between you two.

"Are you... do you still want to study together after school today?" He asked, uncertainty obvious in the crease of his eyebrows.

You recalled how he would often study with you after you finished work, but obviously, he had given you space and left you alone yesterday. Peeking up at him, you nodded. It would be awkward and you knew it, but it was probably better to just get over this bump in your relationship with him sooner rather than later.

He nodded in return, feeling satisfied. It warmed him to know that you wanted to continue your relationship with him, despite his advances yesterday. Perhaps, he thought, later that day in the library where it was private and quiet, he could apologize for being so forward with his actions.

You barely noticed how your friends had stopped their chattering to not so discreetly watch the exchange between you and Todoroki. Lost in thought, you didn't notice the way he was looking at you until he bumped his knee against yours.

"You should eat, (y/n)."

"Y-yes." You stuttered out, hastily picking up your chopsticks.

. . .

"So... you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Hm? What?" You asked, snapping you out of your distracted haze.

Uraraka closed her locker before leaning against it, casting you a knowing look.

"Between you and Todoroki? I don't think I've seen the two of you so awkward around each other since... like never."

"Oh... really? I didn't know it was so apparent."

She let out a teasing laugh. "Of course it's apparent! You two are practically glued onto each other all the time! So duh it's weird to see you guys avoid each other!"

You flushed indignantly. "We aren't glued!"

"You two so are! It's cute though!"

"I-"

She let out another peal of laughter at the pout on your face, suppressing her teasing because there were more pressing matters at hand.

"So... something happened right? You two didn't get into a fight did you?"

"No no of course not! Actually kind of the opposite."

"Huh?"

"Come on let's start walking to class. I'll tell you on the way."

"Okay."

The two of you strode along, and you leaned in to avoid being overheard. There were already enough rumors of you floating around, you couldn't bear any more false scandals (especially one involving the son of a pro hero).

"I... I think Todoroki likes me."

"Yeah." She said, completely deadpan.

"Yeah!?"

At that point, Midoriya caught up to you and Uraraka, falling in pace. The way he was jamming books into his backpack as he walked told you he had just come from his locker as well.

"Hi guys. Sorry for interrupting."

"Izuku! Do you think Todoroki likes (y/n)?"

"Shhh! Ochako please talk quieter!" You said frantically.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Why?" Midoriya asked, looking between the two of you in confusion.

"Yeah!?!?" You cried out, shocked at how unsurprised and aloof they were.

"See! I told you (y/n)! Of course he likes you!"

"No, like—romantically." You explained, coming to the realization that perhaps Uraraka and Midoriya had interpreted your question wrong, and that was why their answers were so unconcerned.

"No, we know." Midoriya said, much to your embarrassment. He turned a bit pink himself before continuing. "...I don't think I've seen Todoroki look at anyone the way he looks at you."

"Except maybe his cold soba." Uraraka chimed in. The two of them let out a few chuckles but you were much too caught off guard to join them.

"He... he... does?"

"Yes, it's so obvious (y/n)! Everyone can tell!"

"Really? Do you think that too Izuku?"

"It's really true." Midoriya said earnestly. "Todoroki may be bad at expressing his emotions, but when they come, he's bad at hiding them too."

"Are you guys sure? I can't believe-"

"If you want like... evidence," Uraraka offered, "just think about your library 'study sessions'. Do you think that if it were me, Todoroki would stay and talk to me like that?"

"Um. Yes?"

"No!" She laughed. "It's kinda cute how dense you are~!"

You fell silent, processing her words and their implications. Todoroki liked you. It was bizarre. And you liked him as well, as a friend and perhaps as more. Did that mean that the two of you...? The three of you made it to your next class, and huddled together to continue speaking.

"But (y/n), that doesn't explain why you guys are so awkward today?" Urakaka asked, remembering the catalyst of this whole conversation.

"Ah, now that I think about it, you two are rather cold with each other today." Midoriya said thoughtfully. "Does this have to do with the post yesterday?"

"Well kind of? It's a bit... embarrassing to tell you guys."

"Tell us!" Uraraka chimed.

"Yeah, you just promised to tell us your problems." Midoriya gently urged you.

"...well you know how I didn't go to our last class yesterday?"

"Oh yeah..."

"I'm sorry I didn't notice..."

"It's okay." You said hastily upon seeing the guilty expressions that adorned their face. "Todoroki came to look for me."

"But-"

"He said-"

Uraraka and Midoriya looked at each other in confusion before unanimously landing on the answer. "Bathroom."

"Ah, was that how he got out of class?" You questioned, feeling a bit guilty that he lied and skipped class just to talk to you. "Anyways, we talked and I fell asleep. And when I woke up, I... I... I think he almost kissed me." You rushed out. You strategically decided to omit the part where you were practically on top of him.

Two jaws collectively hit the ground.

"Are you serio-"

"Oh my God (y-)"

"I can't believe Todoroki would do... like it's Todoroki."

"He must really like y-"

"I said almost! Almost! We didn't..." You said frantically, waving your hands around to hush them.

"Well what happened?"

"Yeah what did he say?"

"I think I pulled away." You said nervously.

"What? Why? Don't you like him too?" Midoriya questioned bluntly, causing a hot blush to saturate your face.

"(Y/nnnn) can't you just let this ship sail?" Uraraka whined loudly, worsening your flustered state as your classmates around you cast confused looks her way.

"I do like him! I do... I don't know why I pulled away, it's all my fault that it's awkward now!" You cried, hiding your face in your hands from a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "Or maybe I just hallucinated it and he didn't even lean in!"

"Just tell him how you feel?" Midoriya suggested.

"That's easier said than done." Uraraka took the words right to your mouth.

"Oh my god Todoroki and (y/n) together... you two are honestly such good fits for each other..." Midoriya mumbled offhandedly.

"What should I do?" You looked to the two of them for advice, deliberately avoiding Midoriya's comment lest you become more red-faced. "We're going to be alone in the library today and I don't want things to get even more awkward..."

"Do you want to be with him?" Uraraka asked softly.

"...yes." You said, equally softly, before turning all shades of pink. "Well... I don't know. I feel like we haven't known each other long enough. I don't want things to fall apart."

"Then tell him, like that." She smiled. "I believe in you!"

"O-okay. I can do that... I will. Thank you for the advice, Ochako, Izuku."

They smiled and rattled off a few more encouraging words, before the teacher opened the door and beckoned everyone in.

[peepingtoad]

||—@dokuhebi​ submitted:

They are at a bar, the evening is warm, the people are cheerful, the drinks are free, and they are surrounded by familiar and trusted faces. This is no time to be feeling more blue than the curaçao cocktail sitting in front of them. One of far too many in their light weight system. Loosening a tongue that was far too cutting and dangerous to be so honest. But then, they remind themself, they are also only in their twenties, and had already been swept up in the dealings of multiple wars, civil and global. Assignments since they were seven. Orphaned since they were six. So really - what right did any technicality the universe could offer have to tell them they ought to wait for the ‘appropriate time’?  Their golden eyes are watching him, the way his hand fits around the entire glass, the way he so quickly gets through each drink - yet somehow seems to be more sober than the serpent. How the white hair framing his face moves with him when he laughs, the shape of his eyes and lips when he smiles, the little glances he steals between them and Tsunade.  And if they were being fair - which they self admitted they were not, and refused to be - they may realize that for every glance he steals at Tsunade, he gives one to them. That every time he offers her a drink, he offers them one. That if both they and she were cold, he would forfeit his jacket and then his shirt so both of his team mates were content. It should be enough. But when was anything enough for the viper? Especially when they found themself brooding a little too much.  Because that was perhaps, one thing no one had found the trick to saving them from. Not since the day their parents died. Not since they caught a glimpse at the monsters in this world, and became so haunted by the prospect, that they imagined these monsters even when all was peaceful. Tormented by a monster once real and now more commonly fabricated. So as they move the straw in their glass, stabbing at the drink more than indulging it, they can not help their quip. The moment their teammate makes some statement, promise or playful joke about keeping the serpent and Senju princess safe, their golden eyes snap up and away from their drink. Not at all within the realm of festivity as Tsunade and Jiraiya offered. No, their voice, regardless of the smile they offer that shows little more than teeth, is coated in venom and tactless query.  “What if you could only save one of us?” It isn’t a fun question, it doesn’t hold any playfulness. It is far too real a possibility in their shinobi lifestyle, and it is far too accusing a question. Too timed. It had been plaguing them for the longest while. Not quite who he would rescue, for they are not afraid to protect themself out on the field. But instead, a backwards way of trying to dissect his mind and decisions to find out who he loved the most. And while any sensible person would perhaps find a quiet moment to ask the man such a thing in private, for a true confession, the serpent must set up a trap, and corner him. If they ask him one on one, he may just say he cared for them, to appease them. But how much more blocked in the man is when Tsunade sits beside the serpent, both team mates facing Jiraiya. Of course, they don’t pose it as something serious. No, they disguise it as one of their mistimed and socially inappropriate jokes. How they are accused of being cold, cruel and weird for their off beat demeanor. An easy hiding place, madness.  “Say we both drank poison, and you only had one cure. Or we were both targeted by enemies, and you could only intercept one attack,” they ask, toying with their drink as they toy with him, acting much like a cat playing with a mouse before eating it, wanting franticness and panic, or there simply wasn’t any fun, “well? Who would you save?”

With a countenance as naturally severe as theirs, it’s always difficult to say whether Orochimaru is even having a good time or not; even with alcohol thrown into the mix, it makes them no more easy to read than if they were stone cold sober. The only thing working in Jiraiya’s favour is many years by their side, of knowing them and their ways, and knowing that periods of watchful silence (a different beast to their regular silence) tends to mean that there’s something unpleasant going on within that unfathomable mind of theirs.

And it’s just like Jiraiya to simply let them lie dormant when first he senses that this silence is indeed one of those silences, figuring that if they want to say something, they no doubt will. No doubt waiting for the perfect time to pipe up amid the pleasant buzz and clatter of patrons and bar staff. 

Until then, however, Jiraiya has every intention of maintaining the levity of the evening as well as he possibly can—first of all, because it had been quite some time since they all had a short reprieve home, and second of all because they damn well deserved it. After months spent surrounded by the drab grey of Ame, whose ruined ground was by this point nought but scorched earth, blood and the rot of corpses pounded into a slurry by the relentless downpour… yeah, he very much ached for his home, and wanted to make some good memories here to tide them over once they were sent back into the fray.

Still, it’s only natural that given the state of the world around them and the overall horrific turn their lives had taken, conversation soon turns to lighter recollections of their exploits, the frankly insane things they’d survived so far, and the numerous ways they’d saved each other’s skins. After all, the name Densetsu no Sannin had spread like wildfire, right to the point where it had become very well known at home, where the familiar visages that greeted them were of the utmost awe and (far less familiar) respect. 

So it had been a simple thing to stir up some excitement and revelry with wild tales, until the three of them were left alone once more to chat more freely as they were wont to. In hindsight, it’s always easier to play up the theatre of their feats when one isn’t currently in that place of peril, with death reaching out to wrap barbed tendrils around one’s throat and yank them flailing into the underworld—but even then, the tall tales sold to random patrons come with a certain lull afterwards, punctuated more noticeably by the stabbing of a straw against ice and glass than he’d paid heed to so far.

And when Orochimaru speaks up, which Jiraiya had been starting to expect was coming like the most quiet yet brutal storm, he only needs to see the smile before he realises it won’t be good.

The stirring of the drink, whose colour was dimming thanks to the ice melting faster than they were imbibing, creates a little whirlpool in the glass that Jiraiya finds himself equally as mystified by as the question at hand. Oh, how he feels like he’d somehow been shrunk down and trapped in that boozy vortex, being spun endlessly around by a cruel and relentless hand! The unfortunate fact of the matter is, he has no idea what they’re really thinking while asking this, which is probably clear in the suspicious quirk of his eyebrow, and yet his own tipsiness is enough that despite gripping his glass a little tighter, he’ll rise to the challenge. 

He won’t let himself flounder and sweat, and he certainly won’t let whatever game was being played get under his skin… and yet it still rankles him enough that the atmosphere becomes tinged with a certain… frost.

Most of the time, he thought it was Tsunade that really had no problem hurting him. But times like this come as an unpleasant reminder that she simply isn’t as subtle about it as they are. She’s straightforward. She doesn’t test him. Whereas when it comes to Orochimaru, the needles come so subtly in the dead of night, in the form of some question or comment, and without even the moonlight to afford him that warning flash. He’s had it before, where a casual conversation somehow ends with him feeling like he’s fucked up—so it sets in rather quickly that there’s nothing cute or fun about this line of questioning whatsoever, for all he gives a hum of amusement into the next swig of sake, before setting his glass bluntly down again.

“Are you forgetting how not ordinary we are? Surely not, my dear friend,” the sage says coolly, in that irritatingly old-and-wise tone of his—the one reserved for moments of profound wisdom and bullshitting such as these. “What’s poison, after all, to the finest medic the world has ever seen? Or to a disciple of Ryūchidō whose blood is said to match that of the most deadly viper itself?”

That was one of the more wild rumours that had surrounded Orochimaru, for sure, but Jiraiya is ever one for playing up the mystery. He knows damn well they’re a B type—just like him, just like Tsunade. Sometimes he wonders whether that was a purposeful choice on Sensei’s part… or a grave oversight. Putting that matter aside in his mind, Jiraiya taps his chin thoughtfully, trying to maintain the illusion that this is a well-meaning expression of Orochimaru’s characteristic curiosity rather than a test of… well, he’s not sure what, because he refuses to ease up on the illusion, you see.

“Well, Tsunade’s more likely to save herself from a mortal wound,” he continues, inclining his head towards her, “and you’re more likely to evade an attack in the first place…” Having nodded towards Orochimaru, he stares somewhere above and between them for a moment. “As for me? Well I’m as tough as a cockroach, not to mention quite wily, aren’t I? But I’m only one guy. Can’t I say I’d send my body to one, and my protective shield of hair to the other? I’ve got about a hundred tricks that means I don’t hafta choose…”

It’s a cop-out, and he knows it. Plus, that illusion… it really isn’t holding up that well. He just knows that saying the wrong thing will get him in trouble, or perhaps even come across as some grave betrayal… and that includes refusing to give a conclusive answer.

One or the other, Jiraiya. Think about it, think about it—would saying I’d just off myself for the two of them be acceptable? No no, probably not…

“Urgh, fine. In a situation where there was absolutely no option, no wiles or nothin’ that would help, just straight up choosing… I guess I’d simply have to go for the least annoying one.” He shrugs matter-of-factly, then spares a sneering side-eye and irritating lean towards their dearest medic, who is fast nearing drunken belligerence. “Sorry Tsuna!~” 

His subsequent jolly guffawing is cut short with an ‘agh, ouch!’ as he is rather predictably socked in the arm for such a comment, not that Tsunade really seems to care. Mind games like this aren’t exactly her thing, and certainly not while drunk. In fact, in her drunkenness she slurs something or another about ‘not needin’ t’be saved by no-one, much less you, idjit’… which in part, may have impacted his choice to go that way at all. 

Because really, how does one answer such a question in all seriousness? And what would they say, more pertinently, if asked the same ruthlessly unfair question? They’d never know, because neither of them ever would. 

And Orochimaru should see it, how unfair it really is, in the way Jiraiya turns his teasing gaze from Tsunade to them—and how in that most minute of movements it takes to refocus his attention onto them, his overall demeanour shifts from merry to overcast, no matter how his lips try to hang on to that signature cheeky curl. There isn’t a particular message he’s trying to convey in that look, no specific reprimand or indication of exactly how serious his answer had been… just a certain wounded discomfort, marred with something else. Something that he himself can’t place, not even with the benefit of inhabiting his own thoughts.

What he does know, however, is that there’s certainly more truth in it than his skilfully casual approach to the answer, in the end, had let on… something that may not be as simple as a measure of love, which they were deviously trying to weed out of him, but of his fiery protectiveness for them in particular, which was admittedly a shade stronger than what he felt towards Tsunade. And maybe that is, in and of itself, reflective of his love for them… or, perhaps, what he feels he is to them. What value he has to them, in comparison to her. It’s far too much to figure out on such a pleasant night, the first in months, with the alcohol flowing and emotions hastily smothered beneath tall tales.

Whatever it is though, he just hopes that they recognise it somehow, lurking in his soft, subdued eyes, and that they’re satisfied.

[gwenbrightly]

I promised the lovely @dragonpearlninja that I'd write her something involving Cole and Daphne for her birthday, which... Was actually a little under two weeks ago. So. I'm kinda behind, but I'm super excited to announce that I've finally finished your gift fic, sweetie! You're a phenomenal twin/brain/beta/Co conspirator and I can't imagine life without you! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this incredibly dorky fic featuring Cole's many questions about barbie. It was super fun to write!

"All I’m saying is that there are a few things that are never fully explained,” Cole commented as he reached over to steal some of Daphne’s popcorn. She pretended not to notice.

“Oh?” she said, raising an eyebrow. They had just finished watching Barbie in the Nutcracker for their weekly movie night and she was curious about which part of this cinematic masterpiece had inspired this comment.

“Well, for one, was the Nutcracker storyline itself just a story Barbie told her sister?” Cole asked through a mouthful of popcorn, “or did it actually happen?”

Daphne considered this for a moment before answering.

“I always kinda figured it was both? Like, maybe Clara was Barbie’s great grandmother or something and the story got passed down to her and then she told it to Kelly?”

Cole hummed thoughtfully and took another handful of popcorn. He was lucky she had already eaten her fill or she would have stopped him by now.

“I guess that makes sense. There’s nothing that says that’s not what happened, at least.” He allowed, though he didn’t seem fully convinced by her theory. Oh, well. Mattel was never going to give them concrete answers, which meant she was free to use creative licensing as she saw fit.

“Another thing, how could Clara have been the Sugar Plum Fairy when she wasn’t from Parthenia?” Cole wanted to know next. Daphne gave him a sideways look.

“Magic seems like the most obvious answer to that one. Somehow the magic of Parthenia chose her to be the Sugar Plum Fairy.” She stated simply. He shrugged.

“Yeah. I guess magic can explain away pretty much anything, huh?”

“Like you have any room to talk, Mr. Spinjitzu Master Who Has a Pet Dragon.” Daphne said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey. I’ll have you know that Rocky Jr. isn’t a pet. He’s more of a… friend. A friend who acts like a giant puppy sometimes, sure, but that’s irrelevant.” Cole insisted, looking insulted. She laughed and threw a piece of popcorn at him.

“Okay, that’s fair. Any other burning questions about Barbie you want answered?” the pink haired girl asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” he answered almost immediately, “What is Aunt Drosselmeyer’s connection to Parthenia. She obviously has one if she was the one to give Clara the Nutcracker doll and reunite her with Eric at the end of the movie.”

“That’s… something I think about a lot, actually. I’ve, um… never really come up with a solid explanation for that one?” admitted Daphne, feeling a little silly as she realized how much time she’d spent theorizing about this very thing.

“Well, then. I guess we’ll have to figure it out together.” Cole told her with a smile. Entertained by his dedication, she returned it with one of her own.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” she agreed, giggling. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for Aunt Drosselmeyer’s role in the plot. Finally, Cole spoke.

“What if I was wrong earlier when I assumed that Clara wasn’t Parthenian?”

“Huh?” Daphne murmured, not fully processing what he’d just said.

“What if… Clara’s mother and Aunt Drosselmeyer are both from Parthenia originally but came to England because Clara’s mother fell in love with a human? And that’s why Clara was able to become the Sugar Plum Fairy, and how Aunt Drosselmeyer knew about Eric…” Cole continued, giving a more detailed explanation.

“That… works surprisingly well,” Daphne exclaimed, nearly knocking the now empty bowl of popcorn to the floor in excitement, “it would explain an awful lot… do you think that’s why Aunt Drosselmeyer travels so much? Because she’s magical?”

He nodded in agreement.

“The lady’s got connections, that’s for sure.”

“I think it’s safe to say you’re not wrong,” declared Daphne.

They both laughed as she snuggled against him.

“This is really nice...” Cole murmured after a moment.

“It is,” Daphne agreed, “maybe next time we should watch our version of the Nutcracker and see if we have any more unanswered questions to over invest in.”

“After Jay found a recording at my dad’s house and played it for all of us… I’m not so sure I can handle watching it again.” Cole protested, much to her disappointment.

“It couldn’t have been that bad…” she tried.

“Do you not remember how badly my voice cracked the entire time? They thought it was the most hilarious thing ever.” He explained with a groan.

“I thought it was cute,” Daphne told him matter of factly.

“it sucks that the others bugged you about it so much, though.” She continued, but Cole didn’t seem to hear her.

“You… you thought my voice cracks were cute?” he repeated, sounding surprised.

“Well, yeah. There was just something about the way your voice sounded that made me-” noticing the look on Cole’s face, Daphne shook her head and flushed, “I’m gonna stop talking now.”

“But what if I don’t want you to?” the master of earth teased with a wink. She turned an even brighter red as she uttered a quiet “um…”

“Okay, okay, I’ll let it go. I guess we can watch the recording if it really means that much to you. I’m beginning to wonder if one of the Oppenheimers took a bit too much inspiration from barbie, anyway.” Cole relented, mercifully. Daphne’s jaw dropped.

“You what?!”

“Think about it, Daph. There’s no way Sergeant Sugar and Private Patty were just a coincidence.” He insisted, looking completely serious. It was in this moment that Daphne realized that watching Barbie in the Nutcracker had simultaneously been the best and worst idea she’d had in a long time. She dissolved into a fit of laughter as she tried to process this latest revelation, happy to let herself get carried away with theorizing once again, as long as Cole was there to join her in the insanity.