#so then that feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop just boosts anxiety like crazy

[midnightsgetawaycar]

I'm so behind on my assignments. It's like I'm so ready to do them but my anxiety gets the best of me and then I freeze and just listen to random shit and online shop, except I don't buy anything.

[saintlike78]

The only thing we share [R.A.B & S.O.B]

A/N: THIS HAS TAKEN FOREVER! I’m so excited to finally be done with it! I’ve been working on this idea with @arcaneslut, so major thanks to her for supporting me through this. Also a major thanks to @bellatrixscurls for boosting my ego heheh <3 <3

It ends kinda abruptly because I was thinking about a part two if anyone’s interested in that.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Fem! Reader x Sirius Black (NO INCEST!)

Summary: Y/N can’t seem to choose between the two Black brothers, so what happens when Sirius finds her in the arms of his brother?

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: NSFW 16+, threesome (M/F/M), vaginal sex, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, slight dom/sub-elements (dom! Sirius, soft dom! Reg, sub! Reader), handjob, mention of cum and cum swallowing, praise, degradation (use of slut and whore), one singular spank, crying, an indication of two-timing (but not really). As always lmk if I missed anything.

“Heeey Reggie,” your voice was happy as you approached the dark-haired Slytherin boy, your arms finding their way around his middle to hug him.

His own arms found their way around you, holding you close to his chest as he chuckled lightly, “Darling, how many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“A lot of times... buuuut it suits you, so I’ll keep calling you Reggie,” you grinned as you looked up at his face.

Regulus shook his head, but his lips were slightly upturned in a smile.

“Do you want to study with me now?” You asked hopefully making it impossible for Regulus to say no to you, but it was exceptionally harder when you were looking at him with huge puppy dog eyes, a pout pulling at your lips if he should say no.

“Of course, darling,” he smiled, not giving it a second thought.

This was what your relationship was, endless flirting and lingering touches. Regulus would do almost anything you told him to, he was completely and utterly enamored by you, he couldn’t get enough. The only reason why you weren’t in a relationship was that he wasn’t the only guy who was head over heels in love with you - the other guy just so happened to be the one person Regulus couldn’t stand - his own brother. Another problem that you had found was that not only were they both in love with you, but you were in love with them both as well, creating a small problem for you.

Normally you wouldn’t be so publicly affectionate towards either of them, afraid that the other would catch on; you weren’t ready to lose either of them, so you kept it in your own secret world.

Of course, you knew how unfair it was to string them both along, not giving them the full truth as to why you didn’t want a relationship because you did want to be with them but having to choose was impossible.

Neither you or Regulus made a move to leave each other’s arms and head towards the library, just looking at each other while talking quietly about your day. You were too caught up with one another to notice the voices that grew louder and the sound of shoes hitting the stone floor. Unfortunately for you, the voices belonged to none other than the four Marauders, one of them, unfortunately, being the one person who was not supposed to witness you in the arms of his brother.

“Uhm y/n, what’r you doing?” the sound of Sirius’ voice caused you to quickly detach yourself from Regulus, creating a distance between the two of you, acting as if Sirius hadn’t caught you red-handed.

“Oh, hi Siri, what’s up?” You tried to act casual, but your tone and body language was anything but casual - fidgeting and bouncing from one foot to the other. Both boys looked at you and then at each other, scowling when they locked eyes.

Remus, James, and Peter looked between the three of you very confused, all three of them silent, thinking of what to say.

“I think we should get going - right James, Peter?” Remus broke the silence, hinting, not subtly that they should make their leave.

“Yes, sure, let’s go,” James stuttered, Peter just nodded, all of them scurrying away quickly, leaving you to deal with your problem.

“Darling, what’s going on,” Regulus placed a hand on your shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze, but you could only look back at him with sad eyes, knowing that now you would lose both of them. Your stomach had dropped to the floor, and it felt like someone was squeezing your heart.

“Darling?... why are you calling her that?” Sirius crossed his arms angrily over his chest, his eyes staring intently at the hand on your shoulder, jealousy filling his chest.

“Please can we go somewhere more private... I promise I’ll explain everything,” you tried, gesturing towards the girl’s lavatory.

Both boys nodded and let you lead them inside, shutting the door behind you gently and leaning your back up against it.

You looked down bashfully, your hands fidgeting anxiously in front of you as your mind raced with ways to explain to them what you’d been doing.

“What’s happening, pup?” Sirius tried a gentler tone, but the anger was still evident in it.

“I’m sorry,” your cheeks grew hot, and you could feel tears slowly gather in your eyes.

“For what, darling?” Regulus was less angry, putting on a calm front for you.

“I’ve had a thing, with... Uhm... both of you...” you were trying your hardest to keep your voice steady, but you couldn’t help the slight shake to your vocal cords.

“... it was not my intent to string you both along... I just like you both so much and I couldn’t choose... I know it was very wrong of me, but I-I can’t stand the thought of... losing you,” your voice cracked, and the first tear rolled down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away, knowing how stupid you looked - you weren’t the victim in this.

They both stood shocked, not knowing what to say, but both wanting to reach out to comfort you.

The silence was deafening, the anxiety was eating away at you as you waited for one of them to speak and just end it with you then and there.

“I’m sorry... I understand if you don’t have anything to say to me or if you don’t want to see me anymore... I’ll - I’ll just leave,” your voice was quivering as you tried to keep your tears at bay until you had left.

You turned your body, ready to make a run for it, knowing that they probably hated you, but your hand never properly touched the knob before your wrist was grabbed and your body was yanked backward and away from the door. You were spun around to face them both, Regulus holding your wrist tight, not letting you run away.

Regulus let out a sigh before speaking, “I’m not happy about what you did, but I’m not ready to let you go... I can’t.”

Your eyes widened at his words, not expecting him to still want to be with you.

“Well, I’m not ready to let her go either... so now we have a little problem,” Sirius went to stand beside you, putting his arm around your waist and pulling you towards him, surprising you even more.

The tears made your vision blurry as you looked between them, “I’m sorry... I just don’t know what to do,” you whimpered out, causing both of them to quit their scowling contest to look at you, both of their eyes softening.

“Oh puppy, c’mere,” Sirius pulled you into his chest, hugging you as you cried, wetting his white school shirt.

Regulus came closer to soothingly rub up and down your back.

“Listen here, if Sirius and I can agree, I would be willing to... share,” Regulus said begrudgingly, but anything was better than losing you, especially to his brother.

Sirius scoffed, but didn’t argue against his brother, “I guess, if that’s what it takes to keep you, then I’ll be willing to share as well.”

You sniffled and looked up, “are you sure? I don’t want to force you into anything.”

Regulus and Sirius shared a look, and both nodded, “we’re sure,” Regulus answered for the both of them.

You hugged Sirius closer to you, reaching one arm behind you searching for Regulus’s hand, which he didn’t hesitate to give you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, but both boys heard you clearly, Sirius giving your body an extra squeeze.

You removed your face from Sirius’ chest to look up at him, “kiss?” you puckered your lips, while his lips turned up into a mischievous smile, but nonetheless he complied, leaning his head down and connecting your lips.

The kiss was much shorter than you would have liked, your lips following Sirius’ smirking ones when he pulled apart, a whine tearing through your throat.

Sirius only chuckled at your needy reaction, prompting you to find solace in the man behind you; you turned your head only to be met with a smirking Regulus, his hand still in yours as he had moved closer to you.

“What do you want, darling?” Regulus had leaned down to be level with your face, his voice coming out soft, yet you didn’t miss the slight teasing tone he held.

“You… I want both of you.”

“Is that how you ask nicely, pup?” Sirius broke in, forcing your face to look at his by grabbing your jaw and turning your face.

You whimpered, “please, may I have both of you,” your eyes searched Sirius' eyes desperately.

He smirked, looking down at your desperate figure while running his hand up and down your waist, occasionally giving it a squeeze, “that’s better… good girls have manners and you are a good girl, are you not?”

You quickly nodded, “I am, I promise I’ll be good for you.”

Both boys let out a groan at your words, their pants growing tighter by the second.

Regulus pulled out his wand, casting a silencing charm as well as locking the door.

“You really want to do this here?” you asked with a small tilt to your head.

“Do you have a better place we could go? There’ll be people in your dorm and in mine as well and I’m not going down to the darkest place known to man, also known as the Slytherin common room,” Sirius said before he slowly started kissing your neck, sucking lightly when he found the spot that made you gasp out in pleasure.

“Oi! I’ll let you know that it’s very atmospheric to be under the lake,” Regulus said with an angry frown, not letting Sirius step all over his house.

“Whatever you say,” Sirius retorted against your neck, his tone sarcastic.

You could feel a fight starting to ensue, which was the last thing you wanted from them at this moment.

“Please don’t fight… this is good, please,” you whimpered as Sirius sucked a purple mark right below your ear, his teeth sinking lightly into the flesh before his tongue came out to soothe the skin.

“Don’t worry, pretty darling, we’ll take care of you,” Regulus’s soothing voice said before he stepped even closer to you, your body sandwiched between the two brothers.

Regulus’s hands caressed your body, his hands going over your bum before slowly lifting your skirt to caress your bare skin. He bent down on his knees, his hands kneading away on your bum, he came forward to leave small kisses on the cheeks, his hands trailing down your thighs and moving to the inside of your thighs but purposely ignoring the place you needed him most. “Spread those beautiful legs a little more for me, princess,” Regulus tapped the inside of your thigs; you didn’t waste a second, your legs spreading further apart.

Your hands found a home on Sirius’ shoulders as you used him for balance, your fingers digging into the muscles in anticipation. Sirius’ head retreated from your neck to look at your face, the mischievous smirk never leaving his lips.

He was about to lean down to connect your lips, but he was swiftly interrupted by a gasp leaving your lips; Regulus had placed his thumb on your panties, feeling the wet patch that had formed on them. “So wet for us, darling,” he breathed out, his thumb rubbing your core slowly, working his way up to rub your clit through your soaked panties.

You moaned and gasped again as the pleasurable feeling spread through your body.

“Such a little slut, getting wet just from the thought of having not only one, but both of our cocks... such a filthy girl,” Sirius teased, finally leaning down and connecting your lips in a heated kiss.

You parted your lips letting his tongue enter and dance with your own, your breathing growing labored.

As you were preoccupied with Sirius’ mouth on yours, Regulus took the opportunity to slip your panties off and down your legs, tapping each of your feet for you to lift and step out of them.

You could hear the low groan from Regulus when he was faced with your puffy glistening cunt, a sight so pleasing he couldn’t wait any longer before diving right in, licking a strip from your aching clit to your entrance. Your body jolted at the contact, you let out a loud moan into Sirius’ mouth and your fingers tightened their grip on his shoulders, scared you would collapse, even though Sirius was holding your waist making sure you wouldn’t fall.

Sirius pulled apart, desperate to look at your face, but jealous that Regulus had gotten the chance to taste you before he himself had.

“Who would’ve thought that little y/n was such a little whore?” Sirius taunted, pinching your sides. You moaned at his degrading words, the words going straight to your already dripping cunt.

Sirius let out a taunting laugh, “Oh you like that huh? You like it when I call you a whore?”

You nodded and whimpered, “y-yes.”

Sirius’s lips turned up into a satisfied grin, “hmm filthy girl,” he whispered.

Regulus pulled away for a moment, “she tastes absolutely divine.”

At his words Sirius reached a hand down, collecting some of your arousal on his fingers as he ran them through your folds, making you whimper, before bringing his fingers to his lips, licking them clean.

He smacked loudly, “mmhm perfect.”

Your cheeks turned pink, and you leaned forward hiding your face in Sirius’ clavicle, prompting a chuckle from the boy.

“Aww, are we feeling shy? Huh?” He feigned a caring tone as he mocked your shyness.

You whined and shook your head, but your face was quickly pulled from its hiding spot by Sirius.

“No whining,” Sirius scolded, to which you just nodded.

“Sirius, can you grab her leg?” Came Regulus’s voice, instructing his brother.

Sirius rolled his eyes, “don’t give me instructions.”

You reached a hand up to caress Sirius’ cheek, “be nice,” you whispered, trying to keep them civil, instead of Sirius complying you let out a surprised gasp when Sirius’ hand suddenly was around your throat, giving it a small warning squeeze, but not enough to actually hurt you.

“We might not agree about who’s in charge, but it’s certainly not you... got it?”

You gulped, but nodded, “yes, sir.”

Another groan escaped Sirius at the use of the title, “you’re going to kill me.”

Sirius let go of your throat, reaching down to grab your leg like Regulus had asked, hoisting it up.

“There we go,” Regulus breathed out, his middle finger circling your entrance.

You could feel your heart through your chest, the beating growing faster and more rapid as the seconds went on. Your breath had been replaced by moans – filling the quiet room, along with the squelching sounds as Regulus inserted a finger in you, pumping it slowly in and out, feeling your warm walls pulse and contract at the minimal pleasure he was able to give you with just one finger.

Sirius leaned down to suck and bite at your neck; whimpers left your mouth at the pleasurable pain his teeth gave you, your hands moving to hold onto him by the back of his neck, pulling gently at the hairs at the nape.

Regulus added a second finger, pumping them faster while his other hand reached up to rub your clit in fast circles, pressing it occasionally to add pressure.

You could feel the familiar warmth building in the pit of your belly, your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Please, may I cum?” You begged, gripping Sirius’ hair tighter as you tried to fight off the feeling.

Sirius submerged from your neck, squeezing your waist, “not yet… sluts like you have to wait for it.”

You whimpered at his words, tears gathering in your eyes at the strain of holding it in, “please, sir, I can’t,” you tried begging once more, but to no avail; Sirius shook his head and gestured for Regulus to stop, which he did, but not without a displeased grunt.

Regulus pulled his fingers from you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling and the fleeting orgasm having been stolen from you. You were about to turn your head to give Regulus a displeased look, but your cheeks were promptly grabbed by Sirius, his fingers squeezing a pout from you.

“What did tell you before?” he questioned with a raised brow.

“No whining,” you would’ve dipped your head if it hadn’t been for the hold, you found yourself in.

“Good girl,” Regulus praised as he stood to tower over you once more behind you.

“Good girl,” Sirius mocked, “she can remember simple instruction, but yet she still whines like a desperate little slut.”

“Don’t be so mean,” Regulus scolded, smacking Sirius’ hand that was holding your leg up, causing him to drop it.

Regulus leaned down to your ear before whispering, “don’t listen to him, darling, you’re doing so well, good girl.”

You turned your face, being level with Regulus, you connected your lips, tasting yourself on his lips and the sweet taste of him, breathing out a ‘thank you' before breaking apart.

Regulus just nodded with a smile, glad you understood his comfort, his hand finding home on the side of your waist Sirius wasn’t holding onto.

You felt Sirius’ hand back on your face, turning it to face him once more, “you know you can tell me if it’s too much, right?”

Your heart fluttered at Sirius checking on you, making sure that you were alright and happy with everything that was happening; you nodded in reply, looking into his eyes to show him that you meant it. Sirius smiled and leaned down to also be able to whisper in your ear, “good girl,” he whispered for only you to hear.

“Come, over here,” Sirius started guiding you towards one of the sinks in the lavatory, a large mirror hanging above the basin, your eyes meeting your own as Sirius pulled you further towards the image.

“Now look at that, such a pretty slut, it would be a shame if you don’t get the same view as us,” Sirius’ hand was stroking up and down the expanse of your back when you came to a halt in front of the shining mirror; Regulus followed suit standing on the other side of Sirius behind you. They were tall and intimidating – absolutely stunning, enchanting, causing all thoughts to leave your mind as you stared at them through the tall mirror; your stomach was filled with butterflies, accompanied by an ache created by the denied orgasm, your arousal was slowly dripping down your legs, but yet time stood still as you waited for one of them to do something, anything – you would let them do anything.

“I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to watch yourself get ruined like the filthy girl you are, understand?” Sirius was caressing your sides, but you knew it was as a decoy – his real purpose being freeing your shirt from being tucked into your plaid school skirt.

“Yes, sir, I understand,” you voiced your understanding, but you looked to Regulus, unsure what he thought of this particular arrangement.

Regulus caught your stare, returning it with a soft smile and kiss to your temple, “it’s okay, pretty girl, I’ll wait my turn,” he said with a wink.

Regulus stepped in front of you, temporarily blocking your reflection in the mirror, but his reasoning soon became clear as he started undoing the buttons of your shirt, helping you out of it, exposing your bra-covered breasts to the eager boys.

Sirius’ hands trailed up your back finding the clasp of your bra and undoing it, the bra loosening and helped off by Regulus. Out of instinct, your hands went up to cover your now exposed chest, but Sirius was quicker than you and took a hold of your wrists, his arms on both sides of you. “Don’t turn all shy now - you were so desperate before, be a good slut,” Sirius was taunting you, but his words only made the ache grow even bigger causing a whimper to be ripped from your throat and your head to turn to look at him over your shoulder; you were only met with a mocking tilt of his head, whilst his hands brought your wrists behind your back, switching to hold them both with one hand.

“Move out of the way, will you Reg.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, his face contorting into one of disgust at Sirius using a nickname for him, but nevertheless, he complied, but not before leaning down and giving your lips a quick peck.

With Regulus no longer blocking the mirror in front of you, you could see the situation unfold clearly; Regulus was close but leaning casually against a sink strategically placed so he could look at you without being in the way of the mirror, his hands starting to work on the zipper of his black school trousers.

Your focus was back on Sirius when you heard the same sound of a zipper, but from behind you; Sirius was quick to pull his painfully hard cock from the restraints of his own trousers, the tip of his cock red and dripping with pre-cum. He stroked himself a couple of times, his head thrown back and a groan leaving his lips, his raven-colored hair falling in front of his face when his head fell back into place. You let out a breathy moan at the sight, enamored by his beauty and growing more needy and desperate by the second.

Sirius flipped your skirt up, the clothing piece rather useless as you were bare everywhere else; your focus was momentarily lost on Sirius’ face, therefore, leaving you unprepared for the slap that was landed on your ass, pulling a yelp from you, but leaving you no room to complain as he pushed himself inside you – the complaint dying on your tongue and replaced by a surprised gasp of pleasure. Sirius and Regulus’ eyes were locked on your face, memorizing the look and contortion of satisfaction, the way your mouth was slightly agape, the slight backward roll your eyes made

Sirius set a fast pace, keeping you up by your arms as he held them tightly behind your back, giving both himself and Regulus a perfect view of your breasts as they bounced on every impact.

Your moans and smalls squeals, accompanied by the wet slapping sounds filled the bathroom, the occasional grunt and moan leaving Sirius’ mouth.

A yelp broke through when Regulus used his free hand, the one not currently working himself closer to an orgasm, to reach forward and tug at your sensitive nipples – pulling, twisting and rubbing them, his eyes locked on your reactions; he smiled a pleased smile at the sounds you let out, your eyes finding his, trying your hardest to keep your eyes open and hold his stare.

“You gonna cum, princess?” Regulus asked, giving your left nipple a particularly harsh pinch, your cunt pulsing and tightening around Sirius.

“Please, may I,” you pleaded, your eyes flitting between the two brothers, frustration building as well at the orgasm you were trying to hold off.

“Go on, milk my cock like the whore you are,” Sirius grunted, a low moan escaping as well as your cunt squeezed him once more.

Sirius moved his hips with a few hard thrusts, snaking his free hand to the front of your body to put pressure on your clit. Your breath stuttered, a gasp catching in your throat as a silent scream made its appearance, your orgasm rocking through your body, your cunt throbbing around Sirius. You spasmed as you tried, but failed, to topple forward, Sirius’ hands holding you too tight to let you fall.

Sirius moaned loudly as he reached his end, emptying himself in you, he stilled cock twitching. He rocked a couple of times, working you both through your orgasms before

he slowly pulled out, bending down to look at the way his cum dripped from you, muttering a small ‘gorgeous’ to himself. Rising to his full height, he kissed up your neck and your cheek while holding your body close to his, whispering small praises in your ear.

You were trying to catch your breath, your body twitching slightly at the sensitivity and the aftershock of the built-up release you had been keeping in for so long.

You were thrown out of your own thoughts and tiredness when you heard a moan coming from your side; Regulus’s head was thrown back as he tried desperately to finish himself.

You turned your head to kiss Sirius’ cheek as his head rested on your shoulder, before freeing yourself from his grasp to stand directly in front of Regulus. Grasping his face, you turned it down to look in your eyes as you leaned up to connect your lips with his in a hungry open-mouthed kiss. Your hand reached between your bodies as you took his cock from his hand, working it yourself; you applied pressure as you twisted and stroked with your hand at a fast pace. Regulus pulled away from the kiss to let out a stuttered moan as your thumb brushed over to sensitive slit, his hips working to match the pace of your hand.

“Gonna cum,” he breathed out, “let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours.”

Even though his tone was much softer than Sirius’ had been, it was still a command, to which you complied.

You sank to your knees, keeping your hand in motion, but replacing it with your mouth leading Regulus to his much-needed release.

His hands grasped your hair at the base of your scalp, holding your head still as his hips moved him through his release, his cum seeping into your mouth on your tongue and down your throat.

With the help of Regulus, you stood, met with the soft smile from Regulus and a gentle kiss on your lips from him. Sirius stepped behind you, holding your bra and shirt helping you put them on, turning you around to button the shirt up.

“Thank you,” you said, stroking his hair as Regulus stroked your hips from behind you.

“For what? This or the other thing?” Sirius smirked, your eyes rolling at his insinuation.

“Both, I guess,” you giggled making both boys chuckle, as Sirius finished off the last button on your shirt.

Your eyes scanned the floor, but the short search for your panties was unsuccessful.

“Uhm, where are my panties?”

Sirius smirked once more before holding the piece of clothing up but quickly pocketed it when you tried to reach for them. “Oh, I’m keeping these… as a souvenir.”

You rolled your eyes once more, but the smile was ever-present on your face.

“Again, thank you for this,” you breathed a content breath.

“I can’t say I wasn’t surprised, but if this is the price to be with you, I’m willing to pay it,” Regulus said, gesturing to Sirius as he said ‘this’, earning him a disgruntled ‘hey!’, though Sirius nodded in agreement.

“I’m interested in what’s to come.”

Tags: @dracosafety, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @trouble-in-space, @kermiemoon, @autumnandwinteraesthetics, @roonilwazlibswhore, @lexi_shoto, @sprucewoodlover, @blackandlupinsslut, @emmaev, @cedricisnotdead, @sirius-sugarmomma, @i-love-scott-mccall, @pretty-pop-princess-hs, @pottahishotasf

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[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday

Monday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends

Word count: 5,326

(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)

You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”

You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.

He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment. 

Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”

You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”

There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly. 

“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”

“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”

Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches. 

He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”

You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”

“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”

“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.” 

“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest. 

You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement. 

“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”

Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today. “I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”

You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room. 

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”

He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you. 

“Shit, sorry.”

“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”

“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”

You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”

He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”

“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.

“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”

You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes isn’t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).���

“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”

You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.

You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up. 

You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.

Sammy <3

(Y/n) where the hell are you?

Adrian <3

Do you guys think she ditched us?

I knew she was ignoring us

Sammy <3

Who ignores their friends?

Annie <3

(Y/n) apparently. 

She has more important things to do ig

Oh my god

Do you guys think she skipped school?

Adrian <3

I wouldn’t put it past her

Maybe she finally gave up

(Y/n)

I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today

I would never ignore you

Sammy <3

Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..

(Y/n)

I’m not ditching you!

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment

I’ll make it up to you guys

Adrian <3

How?

You’ve already skipped out on us enough already

Annie <3

Oh ik!

She can write our final research paper for us Dri!

I haven’t started it yet lmao

Adrian <3

Saaaame lmaoooo

Sammy <3

Guys, what about me???

Adrian <3

Idk, figure it out yourself

Sammy <3

Rude!

Uhhh

Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history

(Y/n)

Alright, I can do that for you guys

Sam can you pls send me the rubric? 

Annie <3

Thanks love ;)

(Y/n)

No problem, I like doing things for friends

My dad’s coming, I gotta go

Talk to you guys later

Adrian <3

Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!

(Y/n)

: ) <3

You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends. 

“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.

“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”

“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”

“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”

“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”

“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”

“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”

“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”

“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.

“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.

“Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”

He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.

Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.

“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”

“I’m alright.”

“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”

“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”

She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”

You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”

You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back. 

“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”

“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”

“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”

“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”

She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”

You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”

You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion. “Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.”

“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her. 

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”

She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.

“So?”

“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”

He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”

“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”

“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”

“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.” 

“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school. 

In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.

Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?

Hales : )

(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school

I need to talk to you before practice starts

It’s an emergency

(Y/n)

What’s going on?

Hales : )

I’ll explain after school.

Can’t talk about it over text

(Y/n)

Alright, see ya then ig

You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.

“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”

“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”

Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.

Unknown

I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.

If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.

You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High. 

Cut all ties now. You have two days. 

Do not try me.

“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”

She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”

“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”

“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”

“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”

She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”

“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”

She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”

You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon. 

You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”

The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her. 

“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.” 

“It’s none of your business, Zara.” 

“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders. 

“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.

“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.

“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”

“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym. 

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”

You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”

“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.

Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”

“I am and I hate it.”

Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle. 

Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left. 

“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.

“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”

“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”

She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”

She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.

“(Y/n)-”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”

You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”

She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”

You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”

“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”

“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”

“You really wanna bet?”

You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”

She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.

You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand. 

You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to  catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”

She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”

“Make me~”

She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”

She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”

“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.

“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”

She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-

“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”

You sighed, “right.”

The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.

You coughed, “I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah…”

You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning. 

You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door. 

“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”

“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”

He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”

You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”

“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”

You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added or if I missed you, it won’t let me tag some tumblrs :((( ):

@immadatmostthings  @thaticecreambish  @hee-hee-haw  @dearnataliealoveletter  @wasteofspacze  @dcml04  @bbigbbrainn  @dirtydiavolo  @vanhakirja  @rinzyx05  @misselsbells06  @ialexabsuniverse  @im-a-depressed-gay  @energy-drinkk  @mothra-main  @i-need-hugs  @dragons-lurk-here  @katj733  @m4r-s  @vievi  @dykeragee  @waterstrawberry  @aplaintart  @kakamiissad  @myunfinishedsymphony  @nagitokinnieissad  @autumnpleaves  @justanothergirlwithdemons  @zachariethememerie  @moon-asia  @m0on-blue  @strawberrysodababy  @akikko-yataro  @haikkeiji  @shiningsunrises  @cinnamonmochi  @queen-turtle-boiii  @imanewsoul  @sparkling-gayyyy  @angelicaschuyler-church  @vixenfoxpup  @ella-ivanov  @shio-yuki  @mosstea-png  @ijustshatbricks

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

Maybe Van Gogh Was Onto Something In The End

This time of the year makes me sad and miserable so I decided to make Jacob sad and miserable for nearly 12K words

--

Jacob wouldn't go so far as to say this was nice but it was…tolerable. Better than it had been in the last few days (weeks? months?) all things considered. For the first time since the reports began flooding his social media about an unidentified spacecraft spotted in the Milky Way, he felt what could best be described as content. He supposed he could have been feeling similarly when he was bedridden with fever dreams and next to no cognitive function beyond craving the comfort of physical touch, but this time he didn’t have the cursed blessing of delirium to help clear his thoughts of anxieties.

Instead, he was fully aware that he had begun to slip into a new routine of normalcy and he despised that revelation just as much as he loathed everything else his captor brought onto him. Or, at least, he tried to despise it, tried to hate it with every fiber of his being but…normal was normal. Normal was good, so say the quick read psychology articles he would skim on his way to class. Building routines was helpful to reduce stress and anxiety, boost productivity, something or the other about stats and studies that improved schoolwork.

And admittedly, Jacob much more preferred this new routine of peace and quiet aboard the ship in comparison to running for his goddamn life as some form of entertainment for his captor. The severe lack of bloodshed and destruction was also nice. Ever since he had broken free from the haze of sickness, the dynamic between himself and the creature had shifted. Not necessarily in a regrettable way, but one that was still glaringly obvious to Jacob as soon as he was able to stay conscious for longer than twenty minutes at a time. It was still as overbearing as ever, constantly hovering over him and his every move. If anything, its aggravatingly overprotective nature had skyrocketed after he had gotten sick, likely from realizing its favorite toy could still very much be broken if it wasn’t more careful with his fragile health.

It was frustrating to have to deal with, more so when he was still irritable from low blood sugar and their accompanying headaches. Of course, then it would try to push its foreign foods onto him again, clearly paranoid that Jacob could slip into a relapse if he didn’t eat something sickeningly sweet right that instance, which would only serve to annoy him more when he didn’t want the stupid snacks.

But eventually, he conceded to its pestering and started eating on his own. Nowhere near the amount he should be consuming, but it was baby steps all the same. So far the only thing he willingly ate were fruits that had been cultivated from Earth or looked similar enough for him to try. He refused anything that resembled meat no matter how it was cooked and presented and smelled, not when he couldn’t confidently identify which animal it came from and if it was even an animal native to his solar system.

Unsurprisingly to most functioning adults, once he had gotten into the habit of eating semi-regularly he felt leagues better than he had in a long time. It was almost as if keeping his glucose up and staying hydrated was the magical cure for his headaches and muscle weakness, like being able to take the natural energy that came from food was exactly what he needed to not totally feel like shit. Well, he wasn’t sure there was enough potassium in any banana to patch up his trauma ridden mental state…but at least it helped with the heart palpitations.

For days after Jacob could finally stand without being bowlegged, he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop with his captor, waiting to be (possibly literally) flung back into the awful routines of playing the terrifying combination of tag and hide n’ go seek. It didn’t escape him how restless the other appeared now that he was freely moving on his own without constant assistance. It was probably expecting him to bolt as he had done so many times before in its office the second he saw an opening to do so, not to mention it hadn’t had a good opportunity to bat him around for a few hours while he was recovering.

Despite these creeping anxieties, it never once tried to instigate these games which was the most glaring difference between them of all. That wasn’t to say it tried to start any games ever since Jacob had been forcibly rehomed to its personal quarters in the middle of fucking space, but it had always continued to pounce and chirp at him in the same manner it did on Earth in clear enjoyment whenever he managed to squirrel himself away somewhere. Now, it seemed as if it wanted to do the opposite of trigger his fight or flight reaction for fun, like it wanted to keep him from doing anything too strenuous. It had always been doting (if its show of affection could be called that), but this was getting ridiculous.

At the same time, he was glad to take this new lack of physical exertion in exchange for being babied tenfold, even if it was steadily grating on his nerves to be treated so delicately. He had to remind himself it was far better to be constantly moved away from the edge of the desk–like he might stumble for twenty feet to go right over–than to be wedged between said desk and wall while avoiding curled fingers trying to drag him out for more play. It didn’t stop him from smacking away those same prodding fingers every now and then when they just wouldn’t leave him alone. It felt the need to constantly check on him, sometimes even grabbing him to do a full body lookover and confirm he wasn’t going to die within the next thirty seconds.

Again, it was better than having an actual physical examination done by its cohort like he had before, which he still firmly believed worsened his sickness to begin with. The creature’s newfound concern with his physical wellbeing at times almost worried him just as well in the event it was checking him over because it knew something was indeed wrong with him. He felt fine…ish, he felt better anyways, but who knew what that medicine he was given so long ago was actually doing to his body.

Whatever it was, it must not be too serious if the doctor…person-lady-creature-thing wasn’t half as worried for his physical state as his own captor. The handful of times he had seen it since their first encounter, the creature was nothing but sweet smiles and headpats, of which he would gladly take over having anything else shoved down his throat while being stripped. He still couldn’t help but shutter everytime it moved its hands too fast for his liking, a result of a newly ingrained fear that it might pull a new vile concoction out of thin air to administer for no good reason. Thankfully, they never were there to visit as means for another impromptu physical, rather it appeared he was being dropped off for something akin to a playdate with Mibao.

It took him a while to get over his own awkwardness of being left to his own devices with a hyperactive child while both their captors idly chatted, but very quickly these ‘playdates' became one of his favorite pastimes. There was never a moment of boredom when it came to Mibao’s rambunctious nature and it was a pleasant way to kill time, especially the occasions when he would get so lost in whatever game of make believe she had wrangled him into he could almost forget the shitstorm he was smack in the middle of.

Although he couldn’t spend every waking moment being bombarded with stuffed toys to play dress up and tea parties with, Mibao often tried to give him some type of parting gift once she learned he didn’t have any of his own toys to play with. Sometimes it was one of the hundreds of plush animals they had made dance around that day, sometimes it was a collection of sparkling barrettes she had clipped into his hair during their “makeovers”. All of which he tried to politely decline and all of which still ended up in his possession to never be touched again, lest it somehow add fuel to the fire he wanted to be treated in the same infantilizing manner as her. While Mibao may adore being showered in maternal affection and unlimited gifts, Jacob couldn’t think of anything worse to be subjected to from his own captor.

Thank God for small mercies in that the creature never tried to follow in its friend’s footsteps to spoil him like that. Right now, they were stuck in some type of phase that made the creature too cautious to play, and that was just fine by him.

Another gift that Mibao had recently given him was a stack of paper and an assortment of colored markers to doodle to his heart’s content. She had gotten much more into arts and crafts lately which Jacob didn’t mind one bit, especially when her high energy often wore him down much faster than usual with his body still being on the mend. To sit and cut out shapes and slap a few colors on them was a nice, quiet activity that also didn’t need too much thought put into. Not to mention, he actually liked being able to draw quite a bit. Being a former graphic design major before he was involuntarily shipped off to war, he found playing around with patterns and colors relaxing, sort of, almost satisfying.

His art in general wasn’t half bad either from years of mindless practice. It was good enough to blow Mibao away every time, quickly leading her to request more and more drawings from him ranging in complexity and cuteness, all that he was more than happy to comply with. Soon afterwards, it evolved into a new game of the little girl spinning a wild tale that Jacob was tasked to recreate to the best of his abilities, which would then be eagerly shown off to the “kitties” much to their delight and his embarrassment.

Oh well, at least his captor didn’t make him show off his drawings when they were back in the privacy of its personal quarters, leading Jacob to come up with something of a visual diary. The drawings were way too small for it to see clearly regardless, not unless it used its computer to enlarge the images like Mibao’s creature did in order to print them out and hang them up. The only time it bothered to look at whatever Jacob was drawing was the rare times he showed them himself, namely as a way to attempt to ask for something and usual at Mibao’s request for a specific item. Otherwise, it didn’t impose on his creative privacy and he was…almost grateful for that. To have one thing solely for himself that he could do with however he pleased. The creature was probably so lenient with it because it was a good way to keep him busy and out of trouble for extended periods of time while it worked.

Jacob wasn’t complaining, though, and he certainly had a lot to complain about any other time. He could definitely see why those “adult coloring books” were so popular now; it was nice to lounge around and mindlessly fill in colors until the end result was a nice, pretty picture. Of course, he didn’t have any actual coloring books to zone out with, so he had to make due by creating his own patterns to fill in later. He took a lot of inspiration from what was on the desk he was seated on most days, especially the different types of plants the creature either had sitting out as decoration or retrieved from the backroom (a second laboratory? Jacob didn’t know, he was never allowed in there) to be studied. He also took a lot of design elements straight from its own computer when the various screens would be pushed around. Though he couldn’t begin to comprehend its written language, there were plenty of neat ways to copy and stylize the strange characters into his own gibberish.

As a result, he ended up making a lot of mock company logos and mascots consisting of the sharp edges the species already incorporated in their designs. Sometimes, he would replicate the prettiest flower it had sitting on the desk, then he would redraw it as if it were sleek and mechanical to fit in the the rest of the advanced technology, then he would redesign it into a fancy logo that would match the vibe of the ship, and once again he would recreate it into another logo or existing picture it reminded him off.

Sometimes, he would even be inspired to draw people, but those definitely were not his forte. Expressions were difficult on their own, much less without a reference, so a majority of the time the only portraits he drew were of himself. He would then exaggerate and darken his features, scribble over them with color, as a way to vent his frustration or sadness when he wasn’t in the mood to kick up a fit with his captor. Those drawings were quickly discarded once he had released his emotions on the page, not wanting to risk the creature finding them and triggering some new worry about his damaged mental state.

Well, his mental state was damaged because it was the one who spent the past couple of weeks utterly destroying his sanity, so, maybe it should get a taste of the pain it's been causing him. No. He couldn’t handle that. If anything it would just try to smother him with twice as much affection, as if kisses and cuddles could wipe away his PTSD.

Not to mention, on the few occasions he did practice drawing people, his captor was often his unknowing model and fuck no was he ever going to let it find that out. It was merely because nine times out of ten it was the only social proximity he had to another person and therefore his only reference to look at. And it was always so still in its chair, too, perfect posture and stony expression making it easy to study and jot down. It very nearly caught him in the act a handful of times when it would catch his insistent staring out of its peripheral. Naturally, it assumed he wanted something, which then meant he had to quickly hide his drawings before it got the wrong idea and then deal with its pestering as it tried to figure out what he obviously needed.

He tried to draw Angie once or twice, but he saw her so rarely that it was impossible to nail down every feature correctly. He had drawn Mibao and her captor plenty of times at the child’s request which was always fun, mostly because he had to draw them doing absurd things in funny little outfits.

Today, he had gotten an inspiration for something he had never tried before, which was a bit surprising and disappointing for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Much like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, he had been plopped onto the creature’s desk and, after a few minutes of fussing over him, was left to his own devices. It was well into the groove of its work and typing away on its desk surface keyboard and Jacob found himself growing bored from watching. He had very limited options on how to deal with this lack of stimulation and even less if he excluded all the ones that would involve his captor touching him in any way, so he opted to grab his clutter of papers along with a few markers to at least keep his hands busy. Nothing was particularly getting his artistic juices flowing and that was almost as annoying as not having anything to do in the first place. He hated himself for slipping into this role of compliance so easily, like being mildly restless was the worst of his worries in the face of everything else that led to this moment. Shit, he had been staring at this blank paper for five minutes and he was already getting irritated and brimming with self loathing. So it was going to be one of those days, it seemed.

Although, it would appear the dreaded day had the potential to turn his attitude around when his captor’s movements caught his attention. He watched as it clicked one of the desk drawers to slide it open and reach inside for what looked like a pressed slide of a type of exotic flower. Being squished between the pieces of glass, Jacob could only imagine how beautiful it must look in full bloom. Just another example of how carelessly these aliens chose to destroy living things no matter how stunning or homely they looked so long as they were able to effortlessly dominate it.

The mental image of seeing a human carved up like a turkey to be sandwiched in a series of slides as well flitted across his mind, but it was gone before he could even process it. A nice little trauma to unpack late at night and fuel his insomnia for the coming weeks.

What struck him the most about it, though, was the vibrant orange to yellow ombre that still looked dazzling despite its flattened petals. He had seen a few girls around his college campus with a similar color scheme in their hair, sure, but in an instant he knew where he had seen that exact blending of hues before.

He was ten years old, the twins were twelve and their oldest brother had just turned fifteen, and they were sitting around the kitchen table doing their homework when their mother appeared from her bedroom absolutely beside herself with her hair wrapped up in a towel. Naturally, they asked her what was wrong, and she lamented about how she had tried to bleach her hair with a box dye kit but clearly didn’t follow the instructions correctly, something about leaving the roots in too long and the ends not long enough. Then she had tried to rinse it with a color correcting shampoo to soften the choppy, unintentional ombre, but all that served to do was make the contrast even more stark. The takeaway was that her hair was ruined and there was no way she could go out in public like this, much less to be ridiculed at a hair salon that would surely charge her an arm and a leg to fix her mistakes.

As to be expected, the boys all started begging their poor mother to show them the grotesque damage she had done to judge themselves if it was truly as awful as she said it was. A bit of pestering later and she finally removed the towel to show them her still damp hair in all its hideous glory and, yep, it was just as bad as she said. Maybe even worse. There were dark brown splotches still along the length of her hair, brassy yellows and oranges muddled around while her crown was a stunning platinum blonde. At least she had done a good job as a loving mother to raise such gentlemen because his brothers were quick to reassure her that it wasn’t that bad, it was cool even, it reminded them of some famous rock singer whose name they conveniently couldn’t remember, that it just needed a little styling and it would be alright.

And then, because Jacob couldn’t read a room to save his life at that age, he piped up, “Your hair looks like Garfield.”

The twins groaned at him while he oldest brother tried to reach across the table to smack him upside the head. He dodged the admonishment, hopping off his chair to run to his mother for protection and clinging to her skirt. “But I like Garfield, mom! I think he’s funny!” he tried to amend.

His mother barely had enough time to cover her mouth before an undignified snort escaped, a failed attempt to conceal her contagious laughter. Soon she had nearly doubled over in a fit of giggles and his brothers were quick to join in, namely because of Jacob’s accompanying pout and demands to know why they were laughing. He was just being honest!

After a minute of calming down, she finally wiped away the tears of mirth from her eyes. “Yes, little love, I know you were telling the truth. That’s why mama is so-,” she snickered again, “-so happy. You’re such a good boy, you don’t lie to your mama like your brothers.”

“But they were nice lies!” One of the twins protested.

She nodded. “Nice lies from nice boys. I can already tell you’ll all be perfect husbands to some very lucky ladies one day.”

Growing up, that memory never failed to make him cringe once he finally understood his utter lack of situational awareness. Even now, he had trouble discerning subtly unless it was thrown full force at him like a brick. To this day…or rather, to the day before the invasion, that moment had been a running gag in their family as a euphemism for something or someone being so unpleasant but not wanting to outright say it. Jed’s first girlfriend? She looks like Garfield. Grant’s drum solo performance in the garage? Sounds just like Garfield. Mom asking how her new recipe turned out? The taste is exceptionally Garfield.

Jacob will never forget that final, bittersweet moment between him and Jed, both about to deploy to stations on opposite sides of the state after an accelerated bootcamp to go on the front lines. He was terrified, he had no idea the full scale of the horrors he would soon be experiencing, and now he was losing that last bit of comfort he could cling to once his brother was shipped off. The twins had already been stationed up north and mom was safely relocated closer to their base.

Jed clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze in that comforting, older brother way and flashed him a shit eating grin. “Mondays, am I right?”

That was the last time he ever saw his brother. That was the last time he ever saw his family.

But he didn’t want to think about the sinking feeling in chest when he contemplated the fate of his loved ones, he wanted to hold onto the sheer joy on his mother’s face and chorus of laughter brought on by his stupid ten year old self. He wanted to remember the good times as if there were still more to come, like he had never left that cozy bubble of childhood, like the world hadn’t gone to hell in a handbasket in a matter of days. Jacob closed his eyes and visualized the memory in his head over and over again while taking mental notes on all the features of his mother in that moment, taking care not to quirk his lips up too noticeably in case the creature had the audacity to notice. There was no faster way to sour his mood than to have his captor suddenly remind him of its presence when he was just starting to let go of some of the ache that haunted him daily.

He grabbed a fresh piece of paper to begin sketching out her smile that dimpled her cheeks, trailing up to fill in the button nose they all had and following the curve of her eyes. He filled in her hair to frame her face in scraggly waves as it did when it was still wet and messy from her shower. Lastly, he drew her slender neck and hunched shoulders that shook from laughter. By all accounts, the picture should be easily recognizable to him as his mother frozen in time nearly a decade ago.

…except it looked nothing like her.

That was okay. He already knew drawing portraits of real people wasn’t his strongest suit as an artist, so he tried again. Practice makes perfect after all. He refined the shape of her nose to make it a little less round and softened her smile to not show off so many teeth. That…didn’t look right either. Now the hair looked totally off. Probably because he didn’t have the right color of markers to perfectly capture the vibe he was going for, thus throwing his perception of her face off completely. He tried for a third time to draw her face and tweak her features a little more, this time drawing her with her normal, straight brown hair. No, damn it that wasn’t right either, he couldn’t make the strands lay right with her laughing stance.

Okay, new plan, he was just going to draw her as normal. Regular ol’ mom in a nice relaxed pose and a warm smile on her face. His first attempt went to shit almost immediately when he messed up on the angle of her eye, unable to correct it due to only having markers at his disposal and having to start again. This next try went much smoother and on his third try at her portrait it was a pretty good end result. The hair looked nice, the pupils were facing in the same direction, the smile wasn’t teetering into an uncanny valley now that it wasn’t trying to add teeth. But the problem was it still didn’t look like his mother, rather it just looked like a drawing of a conventionally attractive woman that bore no resemblance to him. Maybe it was because he was drawing too realistically rather than using his own artistic style that came much naturally. Time for round three.

Nope. Round three turned into a TKO. Now she looked like any generic cartoon girl. Fucking hell, he wanted to rip his hair out in frustration over his inability to draw his own mother. He’d seen the woman every day of his life for eighteen years until he went off to college, he should still be able to recollect her despite only visiting during semester breaks!

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he once again grabbed another clean sheet of paper. He was going to take his time this time, really visualize her appearance and do her justice. Although he wasn’t given the entire spectrum of the colors to use, Jacob decided to pick out the colors closest to her physical palette to make it easier to draw in his mind’s eye. Brown for her hair, pink for her body, blue for her blouse, and-

And…

…

…what color were her eyes?

He shook his head. Christ, idiot, it’s your own mother, you know her eyes are green. Right? Yes, that had to be right, it was his gut reaction after all but…no, wait, she didn’t have green eyes. She had brown eyes. She had to, both Jacob and Jed had brown eyes. But the twins didn’t, so maybe they had gotten green eyes from her. Or did they get those from dad? Or did he get his eye color from his dad? Well, first and foremost, who gives two shits what color his dad’s eyes were, secondly this was not the time to start trying to remember his high school lectures in genetics. Jacob didn’t know why this question was being so evasive when it should be so obvious. The lack of a straightforward answer was beginning to nibble at his gut in an unpleasant sensation, but he refused to be deterred by this minor bump in the road.

This is okay, this is fine, just calm down a moment and think.

He replayed the stupid Garfield memory in his mind again in an effort to hyperfocus on every little detail of her, and still he couldn’t clear his thoughts enough to pick up the right color of her eyes. They kept switching from hazel to grey to blue to green as he tried to see which one fit the best, but they all did. The problem was that he was trying to use the seldom remembered incident of a ten year old when he needed to think back to fresher moments with her. His high school graduation was fairly recent. His mother had done up her hair in a bun–in a braid–in a braided bun?-- and wore her favorite red lipstick that highlighted her beaming smile of pride. The dimples of her cheeks were now accompanied by more pronounced smile lines and her eyes crinkled at the corners but god he still couldn’t recall their color!

New memory: dorm room move in. She was wearing a skirt–a dress, her hair was up in a bun–chopped short–no the pixie cut was after he left home–and she was teasing him about how she was going to check on him every weekend to make sure he wasn’t out doing beer pong or whatever it is you kids do these days! But in that instance, he wasn’t focused on trying to take in every hue and contour of her face, he just wanted to unpack and make sure all his student orientation crap was taken care of.

And then there was the last time he ever saw his mom. The day before he was going to be sent to bootcamp and two weeks before he’d be sent to the front lines. Jacob didn’t like thinking about this memory, even though it was the only time he literally looked into her eyes as she made him promise to stay safe and take care of himself, to come home to her. He looked into her eyes and promised with the same cracking voice, yet he still couldn’t recall what color her eyes were, only that they were flooded with tears which quickly overflowed to run down her cheeks as he hugged her goodbye for the final time. Belatedly, he realized he was mirroring her silent cries in present time and hurriedly scrubbed his cheeks as well as the memory from his mind. He hated that memory. He was growing to hate all of his memories, knowing that’s all his happiness would ever be at this point.

No eye color then. He could circle back to that later when he wasn’t working himself up over it. Just focus on her hair for now, that should be easy enough as it was thick and straight just like his. She went through various hairstyles over the years from bangs to bobs, so he decided to pick an easy one that went just a little bit past her shoulders. It was what she had a majority of the time anyways when she was growing out her previous looks before she found something new to try. With each line of brown he added, he felt the tension lessen from his shoulders stroke by stroke, though the pit of anxiety still tickled at his stomach. He was tired, he was still hazy from sickness, he wasn’t well versed in drawing portraits to begin with; these were all perfectly reasonable explanations as to why he couldn’t remember his mother’s eye color off the top of his head and had nothing to do with the fact that he was an awful son.

He was halfway done peppering little pink dots over her cheeks when he realized she didn’t have freckles.

Jacob blinked out of his trance and took a good, hard look at the woman in front of him who now lost all resemblance to his mother. Shit, shit, shit. She didn’t have facial freckles, she only had them on her shoulders. Well, that didn’t make much sense, how would she only have them on her body and not her face? He could have sworn he had seen freckles splattered across her nose before, though. Yeah, yeah that’s right, when they could go to the beach in the summer and her skin would tan, the freckles would become more pronounced against the dark coloring. Her freckles were more faded compared to his own, but obviously he would have had to have gotten that physical feature somewhere. So she did have freckles. Didn’t she?

Christ, Jacob wanted to throw these fucking markers across the desk. The twist in his guts had skyrocketed to full on gnawing at his innards and working its way up to stifle his breathing. Why couldn’t he remember what his mother looked like?! It wasn’t like it had been that long since they last saw each other in person, he shouldn’t have forgotten the details of her face overnight.

But the ugly truth of the matter was that he really didn’t know how long it’s truly been since their last hug goodbye. It could have only been weeks, it could already have been months, he had absolutely no way of being able to tell the passage of time anymore. So many days were lost to his comatose state of illness, to his nervous breakdown the first time he woke up on the ship that blinded him with panic every time he opened his eyes since, to the blur of adrenaline shots and crashes when he was forced to flee through the woods in a sick game of tag. Even now, it was difficult to tell when the full passage of a day was because he didn’t know if these creatures used the same measurement of time as humans. It could be some kind of Interstellar shit where every minute in this pocket of the universe was the equivalent of ten years on Earth.

He couldn’t even rely on his own body’s internal clock that was still so jacked with exhaustion, causing him to take frequent naps that varied in length. Jacob wasn’t sure what was contributing to this bout of fatigue–the remnants of sickness, his worsening depression, general boredom, a combination of all three? Either way, it didn’t help when there had been times his captor practically forced him to take a nap when he was getting too rambunctious for its liking, like he was a fussy child that needed to settle down. Fortunately, it hadn’t felt the need to hold him in its lap or swaddle him in the crook of its arm now that he had ‘mellowed out’, but that didn’t make it any better when it would absentmindedly rub its fingers down his back when he was already in the middle of zoning out and still manage to put him to sleep.

The spark of indignation that had been fizzling out wanted so badly to burn hot again. It wanted him to break free from this acceptance in routine no matter how much better it was for his mental and physical health objectively. It wanted him to fight back, to yell, to kick and throw and be all around on his worst behavior to make the creature’s life just as much as a living hell as it did to him.

Deep down, he knew there was no real benefit to giving into those urges beyond a bitter satisfaction that he was wasting its precious time. At worst, he was setting himself up for punishment in various degrees until it finally had enough of his insubordination to submit into the role of a good pet and put him down accordingly. So far all he had been subjected to was (what he assumed) verbal scoldings and being restrained to prevent him from running off again, but he knew better than anyone else what it was capable of if the murderous mood struck its fancy. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he was actively suicidal but…there were just some instances he was so disgusted with this new life forced upon him that he couldn’t find it in him to care if it swatted him off the desk in annoyance.

Now wasn’t a time that Jacob wanted to lose himself to the thralls of an emotional breakdown, though he knew he was long overdue for one. Everything had been far too peaceful for too long. Leave it to him to end the stalemate of normalcy because of his own shortcomings, shortcomings he was still going to partly blame on the creature regardless. Or fully. He hadn’t quite figured if he was more angry at himself or his captor yet, but the tremble in his hands was a sure sign he was reaching his boiling point. By now, he was painfully familiar with every stage of a panic attack from the build up to the come down and he knew he was teetering the edge with how rapidly his breathing was picking up.

Take a deep breath, don’t draw attention to yourself, you know attention from that thing will only make this worse. He couldn’t calm himself though as the icy realization sent tremors through his body like an actual chill. He was forgetting his mom, hell, he was forgetting his family. What they looked like, at least, but soon enough he knew he would start forgetting milestone dates and keeping up with their current ages. If he could no longer picture their faces, would he be able to picture so many precious memories they starred in at all?

No, no, no. No, he didn’t want to lose his family again. Not like this. Not for a second time.

His hands were shaking so terribly he could barely keep hold of his marker, but Jacob didn’t care. He needed to prove to himself he wasn’t crazy, that he could still picture his loved ones exactly as they were regardless of how much indescribable time has passed. He was nineteen, not ninety.

Oh Christ, how long would he even be able to consider himself nineteen for? He’d have no idea when his birthday would come and go, what if he was already twenty? Would he still think he was nineteen when he was actually twenty-seven? Was there a fast approaching expiration date on his physical appeal that made the alien fawn over him like he was just the cutest little scamp? Fuck, let’s worry about one thing at a time right now. Jacob fumbled for another page and hastily started scribbling his oldest brother Jed. Sharp cheekbones, black hair, the only one with black hair in the family, spitting image of dad, blue eyes–green eyes, no freckles–some freckles–a splattering of beauty marks, stupid tattoo of a cartoon fish he got in highschool on his left arm–right arm–left arm, no, no, no, this still wasn’t right!

Take two with the twins, Grant and Evan. Mirror images with subtle differences that became more pronounced as they grew into their own individual styles as adults. Brown eyes, yes, one hundred percent brown eyes, mom’s dimples, Grant had more freckles, or was that Evan, it was Grant because they counted once as children. Evan always wore blue, Grant wore glasses–Evan wore glasses, Grant wore contacts, Evan had a scar above his left eyebrow from a slingshot accident–from a BB gun accident that happened before–after Grant busted his lip open and god damn it this wasn’t fair! It was confusing enough to keep them separated as twins in real time as a child, let alone when he was trying to picture them from memories that blended between years!

He tried to draw his mother again, then Jed, then just Grant, then his mother, then Evan, until the stack of blank paper beside him was depleted in his frenzy. It was only then did he stop to look at his disarrayed work that was scattered around him like a madman. The marker rolled free from his hold and he fanned out the stack of drawings to observe each and every face he attempted to create.

All that started back at him were strangers.

It was as if he was caught in the eye of the storm while his emotions were running rampant inside him, not yet catching up with his brain to process what he was feeling. Slowly, his dampening eyes scanned every portrait of his mother and brothers to try and pinpoint what exactly was so wrong with them. The obvious answer was that half of them were scribbled with the same haste as a child, messy lines and unbalanced proportions only making them look like discounted charactertures. The ones that were cleaner, the ones that held considerable more effort because he started to spiral, all held different features that set them apart from each other, even if it was meant to be the same person.

It was like having a kitchen full of ingredients and no cookbook to reference. He knew all these colors and features were correct in some shape or form, but the problem was he couldn’t remember who had what and in what combination. Not to be a phone addicted millennial, but what he wouldn’t give to be able to scroll through his camera roll for a little bit and soak in every candid shot he took of them growing up. By now it still probably wouldn’t do him much good, the battery would be long since dead and then he’d feel even worse about having so many memories at his fingertip permanently locked away.

But he still felt awful with or without his phone. He felt like he couldn’t have one good thing without it being ruined in some capacity by the bastard who kidnapped him. All he wanted was to be able to escape into the comforts of his memories and now he couldn’t even do that because a) he had presumably been gone for so long and b) his most recent thoughts were flooded with trauma and PTSD triggers, leaving no room to push past in order to relive the nicer ones.

Jacob wanted to grab all the portraits up and crumble them into balls. He wanted to tear them into a million pieces and throw them over the edge of the desk like microscopic confetti for the creature to be forced to clean up. He wanted to scream and stomp and hurl things like a child, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bear the thought of himself being the one to destroy the pictures of his family, even though they weren’t, but they were, but they weren’t. He wanted to cry, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to feel nothing, he wanted to feel something if only so he could identify what emotion was hitting him the hardest right now.

The Garfield memory was playing in a loop as some sort of last ditch effort to find that eureka moment in which everything would suddenly become crystal clear. Instead, it was having the opposite effect, similar as to how the constant rewinding of VHS’s eventually wore down the tapes’ quality until it was ruined entirely. The more he playbacked the memory, the more he tried to slow down and freeze frame certain seconds, the more distorted the memory became as a whole. It was as if the once clean edges of the background started to blur. His mother no longer said the exact same thing as she did the first time, the wrong brother tried to reprimand him, he couldn’t envision the perfect shade of orange.

He wanted to go home. He wanted his mom.

–

“Oh, you’ve been busy.”

Edix leaned back in his chair slightly and propped his elbow up on the armrest to rest his chin in his hand. The last he had checked on the human out of the corner of his eye it had been laying on its stomach scratching away at its tiny paper. Now it was sitting on its knees surrounded by a sea of colorful scribbles, none of which Edix could begin to make heads or tails of at such a small scale, but something that must have excited it if it was able to burn through all of its art supplies in a matter of a couple hours. It must not have run out too long ago since it hadn’t tried to ask him for more, not that it ever tried to ask him for anything. Oh well, it was good timing on his part then to decide to take a quick break just when it was ready to take its own. Was it hungry? When was the last time it ate? Certainly never hurt to offer.

“Are you done playing for now?” he asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t get any kind of comprehensible response if he even got one at all. Yet the little one still didn’t acknowledge him. Strange. It always snapped to attention at his voice, especially whenever he was the one to break the long stretches of silence and startle it out of whatever world it had lost itself in. It must still be deep in whatever imaginative daydream that conjured up its mess of drawings because it was staring at them so…intently. “Do you want me to get you some more paper?” Still no response, no indication he had been heard. He snorted, “Are you ignoring me?”

No answer, so he took that as a yes. This kind of behavior wasn’t too far into the realm of unusual. There were plenty of times it would sulk and pout when he gave it an insufficient amount of attention from being so wrapped up in his daily work. Of course, it wasn’t like he was neglectful, he just didn’t bother to look over when it was silently staring at him for twenty minutes straight and expecting him to read its mind. And when he did notice, it got all huffy and tried to push away his prodding like it was his fault for not attending to its unclear needs in a timely manner. Usually it was content with a snack after the third attempt at offering it something, even if it didn’t eat it.

He often wondered why it liked to stash its food away rather than eating when it was hungry. Must be a human thing. The curious thing was that these mini tantrums almost exclusively happened when the human was focused on him but he wasn’t focused on it, yet this time his pet was absorbed in its handiwork instead of waiting for Edix to check in. Maybe it just…really liked its own art? It was an impressive little artist, he had seen plenty of its work plastered around Ylva’s office as well as her own pup’s drawings like a proud parent displaying everything on the fridge.

Edix moved in his chair to lean against the desk instead, arms laying only a few inches away from the little one as he partially hovered over it. Not even the proximity jarred it, and it hated whenever he got too close without its permission. Oh, let’s be real, he never had its permission, it was more like the human didn’t like him ‘sneaking up’ without it knowing. He hardly considered half of those times it nearly jumped out of its skin as being snuck up on. It wasn’t his fault humans had some of the worst prey instincts this side of the universe, how does one not see a predator twelve times their size completely out in the open walking over!

He already knew he was going to get an earful of indignant squeaks the second he broke it from its trance, but it was also so cute seeing it get flustered. He observed it silently for a moment, waiting for it to suddenly notice his shadow partially engulfing it before it spun around with those wide doe eyes. After a minute of still going unnoticed, he spoke up again.

“Can I see what you drew?” he asked despite the fact it was a rhetorical question given the tiny recipient couldn’t understand him. The human never showed him its drawings, not unless they were snatched up by Mibao and proudly shown off to both he and Ylva. He never wanted to pry, though. It was very protective over certain things it deemed as its personal property and Edix knew better than to tamper with that trust lest he lose this flimsy work-life balance they were starting to maintain.

Admittedly, he had no interest in most forms of art, even though he appreciated the multitude of pictures he had been so generously gifted by Mibao that he was about eighty percent sure was of him. It looked like some semblance of a person with a red tail, anyways. His human, on the other hand, was quite well versed in it and it seemed like the perfect thing to bond over, language barrier be damned. He was sure the human was unaware, but there were times Edix had snuck a glance at its barely concealed stack of papers while the little one was napping or distracted, just to see what was going on inside its head. He didn’t scan copies of them to enlarge and hang on his office door like some Venandi, he could already envision the fit it would throw.

As weird as it sounded, he actually felt rather prideful when he noticed the repeated pattern of copying his flora samples in various styles. It was trying to mirror his interests! Edix wished it would grow out of its shy phase and finally show him these drawings itself! He could continue to be patient, it had already paid off this long, these were all surely great signs of trust and acceptance, right?

Squinting, he tried to scan the mess of papers to pick out any discernible patterns, some of them neat and balanced and some of them a flurry of colors, but all with the same general shapes. Oh! They were faces, the human was drawing little people like itself. Cute. He vaguely wondered why some of them had a considerable amount of effort put into them while others looked like a strange interpretation of lines before chalking it up to artistic style or something.

One picture that stood out to him was a portrait of what he assumed was of a woman on her own sheet of paper, crisp lines and contrasting colors making her pop against the white background even at such a tiny scale. He didn’t need his computer to zoom into the fine details to note that she was almost a carbon copy of his own precious human. Brown hair, freckles across her button nose, a soft dimpled smile he could recognize in a heartbeat despite having seen it in person so rarely. The only difference was the eye color, and yet he could still see so much of his sweet pet in all her other features that it wasn’t too jarring of a change. Was this some sort of self portrait?

Edix tapped his finger lightly next to the picture. “Who’s that? Is that you?”

The fact that his human still hadn’t reacted to his encroaching presence was starting to unnerve him just a bit. A part of him wanted to believe that was a good thing, that it was finally showing that it was so comfortable in his company it no longer eyed him suspiciously or trembled when his hands moved too fast overhead. He knew it wasn’t right though, this was way too much trust on its part, especially when it was naturally wired with prey tendencies to be on the lookout for danger, not that Edix ever was one, of course.

Still, he just couldn’t wrap his mind around what was so captivating about the little drawings it had made. Some of them were good, sure, but…well, they didn’t give him any type of emotional epiphany. The human was sitting at an angle that obscured its face from Edix’s direct line of sight, making it difficult for him to gauge whatever it was experiencing. It wore its heart on its sleeve and that baby face betrayed every emotion it tried to stifle in a second, but as far as he could tell from the side it was shockingly blank. The closer he looked, the more he was able to pick up on, from the tremble in its miniature hands to its chest stuttering with choppy breaths.

That wasn’t good. He hoped it wasn’t about to be sick to its stomach again. No, typically when it was feeling nauseous it would at least give him the courtesy of telling him, provided it wasn’t already half dead. Something was upsetting it though, but what? Literally nothing has been happening all afternoon. For the last few hours Edix had worked in silence at his computer cataloguing samples he had been putting off just as he had done almost every day prior. Just like yesterday and the day before and so on, the human was left supervised but unbothered a few inches away to do as it pleased (within reason). There had been zero disruptions in their new routine, so what was making it act so off?

His mind kept wandering back to the drawings and how it had created them in what was starting to look like a blind panic, at least the ones that looked like they had been scrawled by a pup closer to Mibao’s age. Had it been drawing these calmly at first before its mind slipped into an unsightly territory that troubled it, or was it already having these unpleasant thoughts and was gradually soothing itself before abruptly running out of mediums to express its lingering feelings, causing it to be trapped?

Either way, Edix had the sneaking suspicion its artwork had something to do with how it was reacting right now. What a strange little thing to be triggered by its own handiwork. Though the human wasn’t looking at him to see, he put on a comforting smile and reached closer to the papers to start pushing them out of its line of vision in an attempt to break their spell. “Hey, honey, why don’t we put these away for a little bit and–”

As soon as he touched the drawing, something snapped in the human that caused all hell to break loose. He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t one so violent in the way its entire body jolted like it’d be electrocuted. The strangled cry it made was damn near animalistic and Edix wasn’t sure what emotion it was trying to channel through its little vocal chords, though whatever it was was enough to make his hand flinch back.

The human didn’t even bother to wait for him to move out of the way before it lunged protectively over its horde of paper, sheer desperation in its clumsy movements to gather all the art into a crumpled pile within its arms. It was shrieking something over and over while trying to hold onto the papers tighter, yet its frantic state of mind kept causing more of the drawings to spill over and need to be regathered, furthering its distress. Its panic was mounting by the second and Edix couldn’t begin to understand why. At this point it was obvious there was something going on with the artwork, but what? All he could conclude was that whatever it was would continue to stress out his pet an unhealthy amount and therefore should probably be removed for the best results.

Unfortunately, as soon as Edix dared to bring his outstretched hands close to its hunched over body, the human yelled something directly at him that made him hesitate. He didn’t know what it was trying to say, but he could hear the raw pain in its voice that worried him to no end. It shook its head vehemently and repeated the same few syllables again while trying to curl in on itself, shielding the drawings between its shaking limbs. Between each sob he could hear it struggling to breathe as was evident by the way its chest heaved in rapid succession to get in enough air before its next cry. There were no tears that he could see, but its eyes were blown wide and constantly darting around on the lookout for any other attempts on confiscating its belongings.

It was losing itself to its hysteria in a similar fashion that Edix had only truly seen once before, the very first sol it realized it had been rehomed. That week itself had been hard enough, but nothing would compare to its spaztic outbursts and attempts at self harm that lasted hours on end. While this episode was nowhere near as hectic, it was definitely creeping into that territory at an alarming rate. Time to clip that in the bud before this situation gets any more out of hand.

Edix shushed it when it started screaming at him again as his hands moved towards it, keeping a slow pace so that it could clearly see his movements and avoid getting unnecessarily startled. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed. Well, he wanted it to be okay, but the problem is he didn’t know what was wrong in the first place. Everything had been going so well and in retrospect he should have known better than to expect this kind of peace to last any longer than it already had. It was a miracle there had even been multiple sols of a quiet relationship between them, his human was clearly long overdue for some kind of fit.

He just didn't expect its tantrum to be as intense as this, much less completely out of left field. Was this the result of pent up behaviors that had been subdued by illness finally breaking free to run rampant? A warning sign for something worse on the horizon? Not if he could help it. He worked so hard to get them where they were now, he wasn’t going to be deterred by one little hiccup when he already put in so much effort to make it barely behave. Edix cupped his hands around its shaking form but didn’t immediately lift it up. He’d play this game plenty of times to know exactly what was going to happen next.

As expected, the perception of being trapped triggered its instinct to flee and it started to thrash its flimsy limbs against his palms while contorting its back to prevent it from leaning against his fingers. At the expense of its blind struggles many of the papers started to slip free of its hold, worsening its panic while it tried to maintain a secure grip as well as push free from these ‘restraints’. It vocalized its unhappiness at Edix’s actions very clearly which did make him feel a touch guilty, but if it would just put down the papers in general it would be much easier to calm. It almost felt like psychological torture on his part as he watched it be torn between holding its art close and flailing its arms, like it was trying to protect its precious drawings but couldn’t decide if it was better to fight or flight.

After a minute of soft cooing and no progress in calming its state of being, Edix made the decision to do something he knew it was going to absolutely hate. Can’t make an omelet without cracking a few eggs, after all. Besides, he was almost always the villain when it came to settling it down from its paranoia, even if it refused to ever admit to itself what he had to do was ultimately the right call. It was already targeting its emotional turmoil on him for one reason or another, what worse could he do if he was already being blamed for…something. He didn’t know, he never did, just that it was always his fault while at the same time he was the only one that could soothe it.

Slowly, he removed one of his hands that was keeping the sweet thing cornered, though he made sure it was slow enough to capture its attention while not creating too big of an opening for it to scurry away. While it was momentarily distracted, probably trying to figure out the logistics of this trick and if it would be worth it to try and run, the hand that was still cupped behind it reached closer to snag a finger around its skinny waist and pin it to his palm.

Instinctively, it started to squirm and yowl and as soon as he lifted it up a few inches off the desk it was going borderline feral in its attempts to break free. It cried, it screamed, it kicked and pushed and and hit, but stubbornly it refused to drop the last remaining pictures clutched to its chest. He could feel it hyperventilating against the finger snared across its tiny stomach and he crooned softly, using his free hand to rub his thumb against the side of its flushed face which was of course met with loud opposition.

The mass of papers continued to flutter down as it struggled to keep a good grip amongst its thrashing and with each drawing it lost, the more wild it grew. It seemed like it was utterly miserable without the comfort of the papers. Yet, as far as Edix was concerned, it was those papers that made it this distressed in the first place. Times like this were when he wished the most to be able to understand what was going on the sweet thing’s head, surely it knew deep down this was not a normal or healthy reaction to seemingly nothing. What reasons could it possibly have to carry on with such intensity?

“Hey, hey, hey, stop, it’s okay,” Edix said, trailing his free hand down from its face to try and push away the final crumpled papers out of its arms. “Let it go, you don’t need it.”

All it took was a couple more prods and he was able to finally dislodge the last pieces of art from its grasp while it kept trying to shove the invasive finger away. As soon as it was empty handed, it started to reach and whine towards the desk with outstretched hands in an attempt to grab up its lost art. Instead, Edix maneuvered it into his other hand to be comfortably contained rather than dangling with a compressed diaphragm. The moment he had the poor thing situated in his hand he turned his chair around to not only prevent it from having any access to wiggle its way back onto the desk, but to totally block out the scattered pictures from its vision. Out of sight, out of mind. Ylva said that trick worked wonders when she needed to hide her tools that her pup was strangely fascinated by.

To some extent, it did have the intended effect he was hoping for in that it stopped trying to reach for its abandoned art and started to calm down from the height of its panic attack. Usually, the crash that followed was immediate, especially when he would hold it to his chest to help it mirror his slow breathing and soak up all the physical affection Edix showered upon it. Sometimes it was so drained it would even fall asleep in his hold, which was also when it was the cuddliest.

But not this time. This time its yells were replaced with the most heart wrenching sobs he had ever heard in his life. They were deep and mournful, each breath it gasped sounding like agonizing hiccup that genuinely worried Edix it might be choking on air, only to turn into more wails. Naturally, he held it firm to his chest and whispered gentle reassurances to it, though he wasn’t a hundred percent sure what he was trying to make better. He wanted to purr since it always seemed to enjoy feeling the vibrations under its ear, but each cry he listened to dampened his mood and prevented him from doing so. Never before had he dealt with such one-eighty mood swings. He had seen it angry, seen it depressed, seen it terrified, but never so intense and in such rapid succession and certainly not as low as this. It worried him beyond belief, and yet…

When he held it to his chest under normal circumstances, the human tended to curl in on itself to settle whereas if he was pinning it close to calm down in the middle of a fit, it would squirm under his hand until it eventually went limp from exhaustion. In this circumstance, for the first time he ever recalled seeing, it consciously grabbed handfuls of his shirt and buried its cute, ruddy face into the fabric to cry. Sure, it held onto him before and liked to hide away, but that was only when it was deep asleep or delirious with fever, or occasionally out of shyness when another Venandi was in a fifty foot radius. Hell, it still clung to the cuff of his sleeve for security even when they were in Ylva’s company, though he wondered if that had more to do with the association of his friend being the one to administer its medicine in the past.

The point was his pet never tried to be so open in seeking out his comfort, rather it waited until it was offered or forced upon it still did not reciprocate while it was awake and aware. The only exception was when it wanted to avoid strangers and Edix theorized it was more along the lines of seeing him as the safer option rather than genuinely wanting to be soothed.

For such a tiny little thing, the human sure did love to pull on his heartstrings in both the best and worst possible ways. Stars above, what could have possibly gotten into it in such a short period of time? What could have provoked such a meltdown when the last he checked it was contently doing basic arts and crafts? Whatever this mess was, he knew to some degree it was at the fault of whatever was scribbled on those mess of papers. A part of him wanted to see what was so special about the portraits and enlarge them for a better look, but for the most part he didn’t care simply because he would still have no explanation without the human’s input. And he most definitely had no desire to go through this debacle again if this would be its reaction every time to seeing its own accursed artwork.

One thing was for sure–those drawings were going to be disposed of the moment he could secretly sweep them into the trash bin without the little one’s knowledge. It probably wouldn’t even remember about them by tomorrow morning so long as they were safely hidden in the garbage. In fact, it probably didn’t want to keep them in the grand scheme of things, a few pieces of paper couldn’t be that important.

Edix let it sob against him for a little while longer, rubbing its back and mumbling soft praises every time it appeared like it was starting to settle, though it usually worked itself back up moments after. That was fine, he had some time to kill. The reports could be finished after his human undoubtedly passed out in the very near future, which would also be the perfect time to dispose of those silly little pictures. Edix shuddered to think how it would react if any of those people on the paper were real.

It was quite the strange paradox now that he thought back on it. The drawings upset it, yet the little one tried to shield them from Edix, yet it partially destroyed them in its tight hold, yet it so easily disregarded them once they were finally confiscated. Did it like the pictures or not? Whatever, didn’t matter at this point. He could throw them out and they could both put this brief mess behind them to hopefully continue on their budding relationship. Maybe tomorrow he could take it into his back room to show it his greenhouse of cultivated flora, that would definitely give it better drawing ideas in the future since it enjoyed sketching the samples he had on his desk, right?

Or, better yet, maybe it should take a break from drawing altogether. Just for a little bit until he was sure there would be no repeat offenses in the future. He should go tell Ylva so she can plan accordingly for the next playdate they had for the humans. Oh, she might even have some good alternatives to try so that his human can still keep up with its stimulation while Edix works! Simple solutions to simple problems, though his sweet pet had a knack for being as difficult as possible.

The sobs were starting to soften, but its tears still ran like rapids down its face no matter how much Edix tried to wipe them away. With a sigh, he stood from his chair and stretched as comfortably as he could without disturbing the emotionally wrecked little one. “Let’s go take a walk,” he suggested. “You wanna take a little walk to the archives?” He didn’t go on mindless walks often, but he had noticed the times he needed to walk through the corridors with the sweet thing it was always on its best behavior regardless of how it was acting when they left any room. It was worth a shot to see if being in the halls for an extended period of time would help calm it down into something more manageable. If nothing else, they could pop into Ylva's office for a quick visit.

The human warbled something when Edix started to walk to the door. It tried to say something again but was just as quickly interrupted by a series of breathing hiccups that broke up the words to the point he doubted he would have understood even if they did speak the same language. Speaking was good, though. It meant it was settling enough to want to communicate intelligently.

“Mhm. Is that so?” Edix blindly agreeds, just as he did during any of their one sided conversations. Really, he was only trying to encourage it to keep talking during all of these interactions so it could practice picking up on venandix, but this was also a good way to distract it from its own mind. “Tell me more.”

It stopped talking as soon as they were out the door.

[janetbrown711]

“   it’s  okay ,   i’m  here .   i’ll  always  be  here .   ” Wakko yakko dot

Wakko wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. 

He was barely holding on as it was, always trying to keep on a happy face for his sibs, make them believe everything was okay. Dot was a lot easier to trick than Yakko, but even he could be swayed with very little effort. After all, it was very clear that their parents were never going to come back...

It had been almost a year. Wakko still missed them every day. He missed their protection... Yakko was trying, that was true, but even he could get distracted. Sometimes he’d be studying off in the library when Wakko needed food, so he’d have to figure it out on his own because God knows he couldn’t ask his grandmother for anything. Wakko figured it out for the most part, but it was easy to say he missed quite a few meals over the years because of fear of disturbing Her. 

Wakko knew she placed his room by hers for the specific purpose of making his life a living hell without his sibs. After all, she hated him. The only reason she’d want to be near is if she wanted to keep an eye out, or if she wanted to hurt him somehow. Well- she succeeded on that end anyway, though perhaps the better word was torture. 

Sure, sometimes Wakko could manage to sneak past if he crawled on his hands and knees and put socks on his feet and hands, but he was filled with anxiety that simply wouldn’t leave him the whole time. He was terrified of getting his sibs in danger- a trait he knew he shared with both of them. 

They were all putting on a happy face, he supposed. 

He couldn’t say it was all bad... he was getting better at reading. Dot read easy stuff which helped him boost his confidence, while Yakko read more difficult stuff to make sure he was actually learning, which- while Wakko kinda hated it- he couldn’t deny worked. He was getting better- he was actually learning things, which felt nice. 

Though they had had a few close calls here and there...

Wakko wasn’t sure what would happen if they got caught, but he was pretty sure they’d get into serious trouble. For whatever reason, Angelina really hated the fact Wakko was stupid but hated him trying to better himself even more. It was like she wanted a bug under her shoe to squish just for fun... the thought made Wakko shudder. 

So... the year had its good moments, but... a year had really taken it’s tole. The only major good part was that Angelina stopped wearing that stupid veil and pretended to be grieving. Now you knew what she was thinking and saying, which... well... good and bad. 

Good and bad. 

“What’s this word, Wakko?” Yakko asked, pointing to a particularly long one on the page in front of Wakko. He frowned at it. 

“I dunno,” he shrugged. 

“You’re a smart kid, sound it out,” Yakko said. Wakko winced a little and looked at the page. 

In truth, he sometimes debated with himself whether it was better to be stupid or to be smart. He wanted to know things, but at the same time knowledge seemed like a burden more than anything. At least- that’s what he got from observing Yakko. Yakko always had something on his mind, something big, while Wakko hardly ever thought about things other than food or some imaginary story he likes playing on repeat to keep himself busy while his sibs were gone. 

“in... for...ma...ti..own?” He looked at his elder brother. 

“Close. Information. Tion sounds like shun,” Yakko pointed out. 

“Right, that’s information,” he nodded. He knew the words, he was nine after all, but reading just make them look unfamiliar. 

Yakko was then going to make him read the full sentence again, but a familiar shout was heard right outside, and the boys froze as the door swung open. 

“Yakko- calm this child down,” Angelina shoved Dot, who was crying, towards Yakko, when her eyes feel upon them. 

“What on earth is going on here?” She glared at Wakko, and he felt his heart beat faster. 

“W-well I-i was just-” Yakko tried to think of what to say as Dot went to him, but Angelina yanked Dot back, before going to Yakko herself and slapping him across the face and he slammed into a bookshelf, books spilling out onto him.

“What did I tell you?! You are not to educate that bastard creature, lest you and him face serious consequences,” She fumed. 

“No!!! Don’t hurt him!!!” Dot continued to cry. Wakko growled and just about lept out of the chair, but Angelina grabbed him by the ears. 

“This is on you,” She spat, and began to drag Wakko out of the room. 

“No! It’s my fault! I forgot the dress type! Please! Punish me instead!” Dot insisted, stepping out in front of Angelina. 

“Oh Angelina,” The queen shook her head, placing a soft hand against Dot’s face. Dot froze.

“If you get in my way again I assure you his punishment will be increased ten fold.” She whispered harshly. 

“Now be a good girl Angelina, and run along now. You have much to study,” She smiled sweetly. 

“My name is Dot,” She muttered to herself, bearing her teeth.

“Dot, no,” Wakko pleaded with her. Angelina tightened her pull on his ears. 

“It’d be wise for you to listen to him for once,” She smiled more. Dot growled again, but stepped backward, and looked back at Wakko. 

“Angelina. Move,” She ordered. Dot looked at the arm holding Wakko, a very obvious thought popping into her head. Angelina growled. 

“I expected more from you,” She said, before kicking Dot to the ground and moving on, giving Wakko’s ears a massive tug before continuing on. 

Wakko heard Dot get up from behind, trying to keep her distance, but her tears made her noticeable. 

Quickly and painfully, they turned around halls and owners of the castle, before Wakko realized she wasn’t going to be putting him in his room, and he was filled his dread and terror. 

“Wh-where are you taking him?!” Dot shouted at her, once she had the same thought. 

“That is none of your concern, Yakko.” She said coldly. “I’m teaching you three a lesson.”

“Let go of him!” Dot shouted again as Angelina started to go up the enormous stairwell. The queen ignored her, climbing higher and higher. 

“I said let him go!” Dot shouted, pulling on her dress like she had a year ago. Angelina froze, before turning around, dangling Wakko off of the stairs above the at least 20 foot drop below, only holding him by his neck.

“Shout at me again young lady, and I will,” She threatened. Dot gasped, covering her mouth. 

“Wait- please! Don’t hurt him-!” She begged, and Wakko did his best not to be terrified for his life but uh- 20 ft drop. 

“Go back downstairs, Angelina. You’ve done enough today,” She spat in her face. Dot wanted to protest, but the queen lifted Wakko higher and Dot backed down, lowering her head in shame as more tears streamed down. 

“Good girl,” The queen smiled, and patted her head, before turning around and continuing to drag Wakko up, Dot’s sobs echoing as they went all the way to the top. At this point, Wakko was pounding and kicking against her best he could, but she proved herself to have gotten wiser about that, as her long silk gloves prevented scratches or bites to her skin, and her pure gold bracelets also didn’t help. 

Eventually, she reached the top of the familiar tower, and she tossed him in like an animal. She closed and locked the heavy iron door and the sound made Wakko’s head hurt. 

“How long do you plan to leave me here, huh?!” He demanded, running to the door. However, to his horror, she left without a word to him. He listened closely to the door, still hearing Dot’s cries when he heard her yelp in pain. Wakko pounded on the door, but since it was no longer wood, all that ended up doing was hurting his hand. Wakko cringed in the pain, but knew there was nothing he could do. 

He was locked in here... for who knows how long. Could be days, weeks... months...

If she even bothered to keep him alive, which was something she was clearly starting to debate more and more as time passed. Wakko didn’t want to die-

At least... not yet. 

Perhaps it was foolish, but he did still have a shred of hope for his future, though it only got cloudier and cloudier as days passed. He tried to remember the advice and optimism of his dad, but that only brought up the painful feeling of him being gone. The same thing happened when he tried to imagine his mom comforting him too. 

After awhile of him just sitting on the cold and filthy floor in shock and pain, he heard pounding on the door. 

“Wakko? Wakko? Are you in there?” Yakko called from outside. 

“Y-yeah!” he replied, wiping his eyes. 

“We-we’re gonna get you out Wakko. I promise,” he declared. 

“Yakko, you can’t promise that,” Wakko frowned. 

“Yes I can Wakko. We’re going to get you out,” He asserted. 

“She’ll kill you- she’ll kill me if you try,” Wakko pleaded. 

“I know... but... w-we’ll escape. Run away to a far off town where no one will find you two. We’ll be safe,” Yakko said, becoming more and more desperate.

“You’ve said it yourself: a place like that doesn’t exist,” Wakko crossed his arms, leaning against the cold door.  He heard Yakko do the same. 

“We... we could...” Yakko tried to think. 

“Yakko... you should just forget about me. You and Dot would be fine without me, I hold you two down. I should just- stay up here and- and die,” Wakko pulled his knees to his chest. 

“Wakko!” he gasped. “Don’t say that!” he said, much softer. 

“Grandma will never care about me, a-and mum and d-daddoo are gone s-so... it would just be easier for me to stay here... away from you two... just like she wants,” He suppressed tears best he could, but choken on the lump in his throat. 

“Wakko, no.” Wakko heard him turn around to face the door again. 

“No matter what happens, we are not going to give up on you. I’m here- I’m always gonna be here, Wak,” He spoke softly. 

“Mum and Dad said they’d be here too...”

A painful silence hummed through the air. It hurt to even breathe after he spoke. Wakko gave in and cried. 

“Wak... I-i... I don’t know what to say...” Yakko said. 

“Just go away- before you get locked away too,” He sobbed. 

Yakko didn’t respond, staying there for a long, long time. 

Wakko didn’t say anything either. 

“We will rescue you Wak... I promise,” Yakko repeated, before standing up and going. 

Wakko stayed on the floor the rest of the day. 

.o0o.

Angelina hadn’t been sending servants to give him food, only water. 

Wakko had been up there for three days and it was easily the most miserable he had ever been in his life. 

He knew his mother had been sent up there at least once. He could see her carvings in the wall, and scratches on the floor, which he traced over his finger and slowly read. 

“Yakko? Slacky? Wacky?” and “Harold the 9th” were written beside the bed. There was a tally for what he assumed were days next to the broken mirror. Other random words he couldn’t quite read were sprawled all around. 

Yakko came up to talk every now and then, but he never could stay long. Wakko kept meaning to ask him for food, but he knew Angelina was strict on eating hours, so it was unlikely he could sneak into the kitchen to grab anything anymore. It just... wasn’t that simple any more. 

He also promised he was thinking of an escape. Wakko thanked him for the effort, but his hope wasn’t high.

Dot came at one point too. She cried and apologized and explained how it was her fault their grandmother got mad, saying how she hadn’t read the page she was supposed to the night before and didn’t know the types of dresses and she got mad, which made her cry, which made her take her to Yakko, which caused everything else. Wakko told her not to blame herself, but he knew that wasn’t going to resinate. Just another way their grandmother tightened her grip around them. 

But for the most part, he was alone. Utterly and perfectly alone...

He had his little imaginary games in his mind, but even those ran out eventually, mostly due to the cold. Stupid early winters...

One particularly cold night, Wakko said “screw it” and went to the window an looked out at the stars. 

They shined a lot better all the way up here, at least that was nice...

As he looked up, a chill ran through him and he was reminded of just how hungry he was. He cringed in the pain, and looked up at the stars, having run out of tears days ago. 

“I... I wish mum and dad were still here... If they were alive everything would go back to being okay...” he whispered weakly to the brightest star he could see. The stars twinkled back. 

Wakko sighed, lowering his head, continuing to look when he noticed that the star appeared to be growing larger- that wasn’t normal, right? And if it’s not, was it actually happening, or was he just seeing things because he was hungry?

It also appeared to be growing closer- that wasn’t good. Too close and it’d probably destroy the whole castle. Wakko scrambled back from the window and pounded on the door for help, but nobody heard or came. Wakko braced himself as the light got brighter and brighter and eventually filled the dark tower. 

However, nothing crashed or burned or turned him into goop, so Wakko slowly turned around and opened his eyes, and he saw a glowing figure in a really poor looking rope, cheap wand, and wings. 

Well- that was interesting. 

“Uh- who are you?” Wakko asked, really uncomfortable with the idea of a stranger popping into his prison out of nowhere. 

“I’m your desire fulfillment facilitator, Pip,” the desire fulfillment facilitator said dryly. Wakko blinked. 

“Uh- hi, Pip,” he said. 

“Congradulations Wakko, you did it. Out of all of the stars in the night sky, you made your wish up the wishing star,” He said, so monotone Wakko wanted to tears his ears off despite the fact that he was saying good news. 

“The Wishing Star? I’ve never heard of a Wishing Star,” He frowned. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you stories?” He asked. Wakko shook his head. 

“Hm... doesn’t matter. You did it anyway. It was your request for a wish that brought me here,” he said. 

“Wait- so- you can bring my parents back?” Wakko realized. He nodded, and Wakko almost passed out. 

“You’ve decided on your wish?” He asked. 

“I just said-”

“Right, right. Welp- here it goes,” Pip snapped his fingers, and ball of green light shot across the sky, and crashed far, far away- behind the mountains in the horizon. Wakko frowned. 

“Hey, what gives? It couldn’t be any closer than that?” He frowned. 

“Oh whoops, too late to fix now,” Pip scratched the back of his neck. Wakko gave him a look. “Looks like you have quite the trek ahead of you.”

“Yeah... I guess so,” Wakko couldn’t be sour for long, now entranced by the bright light. 

“And you better be going if you don’t want competition to build up,” Pip added. 

“What?! How am I supposed to reach it if I’m stuck in this tower! These rules are completely unfair,” Wakko crossed his arms. 

“Don’t worry Wakko, your siblings will be coming to get you soon, you’ll just have to tell them where to go,” Pip explained. 

“Huh?” He tilted his head when he heard footsteps not far away from the door. 

“I must go now- just remember this: the one who touches the fallen star first gets their wish. If you aren’t first, you don’t get it,” He said.

“What’s the point of me wishing on the star then, if it’s just up for grabs? that’s lame,” He crossed his arms. 

“Whoops- I gotta go, bye,” He waved and turned to star dust before disappearing completely, right before he heard a knock at the door. 

So much for that guys help. 

“Wakko?” It was Yakko. 

“Yakko? What’re you doing here?” Wakko asked. 

“We’ve come to break you out,” Dot chimed in, and a very, very, very long rope made of several sheets was pushed through his “meal slot”. 

Wakko didn’t know what to say. 

“Tie one end to the hook by the window and climb down- my advice is to not look down and pretend like it’s just training with Dad. Plus, me and Dot will be waiting for you at the bottom,” Yakko explained. 

“Wait- I have to tell you,” Wakko interrupted. 

“What?” Yakko asked, surprised Wakko wasn’t protesting. 

“I-i made a wish at a star tonight and well- apparently it was the wishing star so now we have to go- like... really actually go so I can make my wish and then everything will be okay and happy just like it used to be,” Wakko said. 

“The... wishing star? I thought that was just some kiddy bedtime story...” Yakko said, mostly to himself. 

“Well- apparently not,” Wakko said, taking one end and tying it to the hook like Yakko said. Yakko sighed. 

“We’ll talk about this once you’re down. Me and Dot are gonna wait at the bottom,” He said. 

“Okay... see you on the other side,” Wakko said, making the mistake at looking at how far away down was, but was surprised the rope actually went all the way down. 

That was a lot of sheets. 

“You got this Wakko!” Dot encouraged, before he heard the two of them go. 

Right. He had this. 

He may not have been very smart, but he was a good climber. He could do this...

At least, he hoped anyway. 

He promised right then and there that if he was going to make it out of this alive, he was definitely going to go to the Wishing Star- it couldn’t be more dangerous than climbing down a 50 foot rope made of tied sheets, 

...Could it?

.o0o. 

Lena despised being in recovery more than anything. She had been rendered practically immobile because of her broken leg, and her weakened muscles took months of physical therapy to rest and recover. 

Every day she thought of her children, and missed them dearly. She knew when all of their birthdays were and was overcome with grief as each passed. 

She was supposed to be there, with them. Celebrating, laughing, protecting.

Instead?

Now she was in William’s hometown, mooching off of their generosity because of her title, feeling utterly and totally useless. 

After months and months of healing and resting and physical therapy she was finally back to semi-functionality. Sure, she could now go for strolls at night with William (it was part of her physical therapy- stupid leg injuries), but she knew she still couldn’t actually do anything- she still couldn’t go back to the castle and put an end to her mother’s reign. They’d be caught- called imposters and possibly be killed. 

Lena couldn’t imagine making her children go through them dying twice. 

“Lena..? What are you thinking about this night?” William asked softly, and Lena remembered where she was. 

“Just... everything,” she sighed. William kissed her hand. 

“We’ll figure it out, I promise,” He said. Lena closed her eyes and tried to believe it. 

“A year William... My mother must’ve done numerous unspeakable things to them by now...” She looked away at the plaza. He squeezed her hand. 

“I was thinking of the same thing...” he said. Lena put her head on his shoulder. 

“I miss Wakko’s jokes... I miss Yakko’s wit... I miss Dot’s smile,” Lena said, smiling a little at the memory. 

“We’ll figure it out soon, i promise,” he kissed her head and closed his eyes as they sat on a bench outside the hospital.

“Soon...” she echoed. 

Soon her ass. 

Soon was a ridiculous unit of time. No matter how much time had passed, everything seemed to be “soon”. The word drove her mad. 

She was going to say something about this, when suddenly a bright green shooting star suddenly soared through the sky, grabbing her attention as it went all the way down before suddenly crashing down behind the Acme Mountains. 

“William- did you see that?” Lena tugged on his arm. 

“See what?” He tilted his head. 

“That star- it crashed just behind Acme Moutains,” She shook him so he opened his eyes and he quickly saw it. 

“That’s- no... that couldn’t be..? Could it?” He squinted at it. 

“I think it is...” Lena said. 

“You think the Wishing Star could actually be real?” He asked. 

“My father taught me about it when I was a little girl, the books are still in the library. My mother never approved of fictional books- it has to be true,” Lena quickly stood up. 

“Careful Lena, you’re still-”

“Oh hush William. Don’t you know what this means?” She asked. “This is our chance- we reach the wishing star we can reunite with the kids- and take down my mother for good.” 

“And everything would be perfect again...” William couldn’t help but smile. He stood and kissed her. 

“C’mon- we haven’t a moment to waste,” Lena said. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Lena, it’s very late. We need to go to sleep,” He said. 

“But- William- it’s right there,” She frowned. 

“Yes, but we’ll have to get a horse or two to share and it’ll be a long and treacherous journey- those mountains aren’t exactly easy to get through,” William warned. Lena sighed. 

“But... it’s right there... Our kids...” She looked at it. 

“I know... but I promise Lena, it’ll still be there in the morning. Wishing Stars aren’t common knowledge, and we’ll have the distance advantage,” William said. “So please... let’s get some rest before we go out, alright?” 

Lena sighed. “I hate when you’re right.”

“You love me,” He teased. 

“I know,” She rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek. “But.. tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Tomorrow. We’ll head out first thing in the morning.”

“To the Wishing Star...” She smiled. 

They were going to see their kids again after all. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

[woozibby]

In Love | Joshua

requested: Hello, I hope you’re doing good 💙 Could I maybe request a cute fluff with Joshua? Maybe something were he realizes he’s in love with the reader and tells them, if that’s okay with you~

wc: 2190

a.n. I hope you like this anon!! Please let me know if you have any more requests! <3 This is unedited, so i’m sorry for any mistakes!

SEVENTEEN MASTERLIST

You, my dear reader, are in your afternoon music lesson. You tried your best to keep focus, however, it wasn’t going very well. 

So when your phone started buzzing in your pocket, that was when you completely lost focus.

Your phone screen lights up with many notifications, however, the ones that stood out were the ones from the ironically titled group chat: Oh God Why.

Mingyu: how does everyone feel about pizza?

Vernon: I could go for pizza

y/n: omg yes pls

Joshua: aren’t you meant to be in class y/n? 

y/n: don’t need to call me out like that, but yeah, I’m here 

Mingyu: So pizza after y/n’s class yes or no? 

Vernon, y/n: yes

Joshua: fine yes. y/nie, I’ll come pick you up after class

y/n: awe, thank you josh<3

Mingyu: simp

Joshua: STFU MINGYU

So you giggle to yourself as you read the exchange and you put your phone away in attempts to refocus. The idea of food and hanging out with your best friends at the forefront of your mind. 

Finally, your lesson came to an end and like he said he would be. Joshua was there, outside waiting for you to meet him. 

“So, how was class?” Joshua asks as you link your arm with his and you both make your way to his car. 

“It was something,” you laugh. 

It didn’t take you guys long to get to the small dinner that Mingyu demanded to go to. He mentioned how it sold authentic American style pizza. That no other pizza place could now compare. 

None of you bothered to fight him on it as it was just easier to go along with the giant puppies’ demands. Plus you all knew you wouldn’t be able to say no to him either. 

Once you got inside and were sat down, Mingyu and Vernon instantly went for the menu and began looking over it. However, you were fine just sitting there in the presence of everyone else. 

Looking over, you see Joshua already looking at you with a small smile on his face.

“What?” you asked, returning his smile.

“Nothing,” he responded, turning his attention away from you. “Guys, stop hogging the menus, let us have a look.” 

Ten minutes later, you’ve all ordered and are now sipping away at your drinks as you guys talk about your day. You laughed at the jokes Vernon said and how every time the door would open from the kitchen Mingyu’s head would be straight up and looking around like a meercat. 

However, what you didn’t notice was the fact how when you weren’t looking, Joshua would take the time to glance at you, smile and look away before you could notice. You were so engrossed in the conversation that you failed to notice the smile that never left his lips. 

So anyways, your pizza arrives and you guys slowly eat your food- well you slowly eat your food, the guys slowly and eating are never in the same sentence. 

So once you’ve finished up, you all split the bill and make your way out of the dinner. 

“Didn’t I tell you that place was great?” Mingyu gushes as he walks ahead of you with Vernon. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Vernon laughs. 

You continue to smile as you watch the two boys before turning your attention towards your other best friend. 

“You okay?” you ask. “You’ve been kinda quiet tonight.” 

Joshua hums and shrugs his shoulders. He takes a moment to think before nodding his head.

“I’m good,” The smile never falls. 

OKAY so, flash forward. 

So it’s a Saturday, you don’t have lessons AND since you were good, you made sure to catch up on all of your work so you could have the weekend to chill and do nothing.

Absolutely nothing. 

You didn’t want to think, you didn’t want to move an inch out of your apartment. The only thing that would get you out of your apartment was if the building was on fire and even then, you’d have to think about it. 

So you queued up a drama on your tv and started on making a snack or two to keep you going and once that was all done, you made your way back to the living room and plopped yourself down on the couch with a blanket thrown over your lap. 

You were twenty minutes into the first episode when your phone buzzed. You ignored it, thinking that if it was important they’d call back later. So you forgot about it for another ten or so minutes until it buzzed again. 

Letting out a sigh, you pause the episode and lean over to grab your phone. 

Your screen was full of notifications. 

Some were random things from Twitter, others were from some random app you forgot you had on your phone, but the most recent ones were a string of text messages from Josh. 

Joshua: You busy? 

Joshua: You doing anything rn?

Joshua: you’re free right?

You whipped your hands on your blanket before you unlocked your phone and typed back a response. 

y/n: define free?

Joshua: As in you’re not out and doing something??

y/n: then yeah, I’m free

Joshua: YES okay, do you want to do something? I thought maybe we could go to the aquarium? 

You began to type out a message, before pressing backspace and deleting it all. You wanted to spend the day inside, but what was the worst that could happen? Plus, how could you ever say no to him?

y/n: yeah sure, meet me here in twenty?

Joshua: cool, for sure! 

Locking your phone once more, you turn off your tv and take your snacks back to the kitchen before you headed to your room to get changed. 

You put on a comfortable outfit and made sure to wear a jacket over the top as you knew it could sometimes get cold in the aquarium. So, by the time you were ready, a knock on your door didn’t come as much of a surprise. 

Opening it up, you smile at Josh and invite him in. 

“I’ll be one second, just gotta put my shoes on.” 

He nods and sits himself down on the couch as he waits for you to finish and when you come back out with a small bag, you pick up your keys, purse and phone before shoving them in. 

“You ready?” he asks causing you to nod in response. 

So he drives and you guys get to the aquarium in no time. 

Once you get inside and your tickets are brought, you start to make your way through. 

Josh laughs to himself every time you saw a new animal and ran over to them in awe. He tried his best to keep beside you, however, once something caught your eye, you were off again in a flash. 

He didn’t mind though, the look on your face and the pure joy that emanated from you was enough for him. Every little thing you did made him smile, every little thing you did made his heart jump around. 

It wasn’t until you guys got to the underwater tunnel and the sight of you looking all around you with the largest smile he thought he had ever seen you smile, did it dawn to him. 

He loves you. 

No matter how much his heart and brain fought, no matter how much he wanted to deny it- he couldn’t. Not now, not whilst looking at you like this. Not when the water was reflecting on you in a way that enhanced your already beautiful self. 

Mingyu and Vernon always joked that he was a simp for you and they were right. Not that Josh would ever tell them that, they didn’t need the ego boost. 

So as Josh followed you around the aquarium, he smiled. He laughed to himself and the more time you guys spent the more it cemented in his mind.

He was in love and there was nothing he could do about it. 

So flash forward an hour or two. 

He’s dropped you home and you’ve gone on and on about how fun the day was. How much fun it was going there with him and it makes his heart expand like five sizes. 

So after he drops you off, he heads back to his own apartment which he shares with Vernon and Mingyu. When he walks through the door, both boys are sat on the couch, playing the same game they were playing when Josh left. 

“How was your date?” Mingyu sniggers, he, however, doesn’t turn his attention away from the tv as Josh walks over and lets himself fall into the love sweet. 

“It wasn’t a date,” Josh responds before covering his face up with his hands.

“Is that why you looked so bummed?” Vernon asks. 

Josh uncovers his face and sends a look to the younger boy. Vernon, who just shrugs says nothing more. 

“I realised something today and I don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing.” 

“Let me guess,” Mingyu pauses the game which causes Vernon to gasp. “You’ve finally realised your love for y/n and now you’re in a state of shock” 

Josh’s eyebrows furrow together as he slowly nods.

“How did you know?” 

Both of the younger boys sigh in defeat. 

“Because it’s obvious!” Vernon laughs. “You’ve been in love with them since what? The moment you guys saw each other?” 

“That’s not true,” Josh fakes a laugh as he looks down at his hands. 

“Yes, it is and don’t even try to deny it.” Mingyu states. 

“And so what you like y/n, what’s so bad about that?” Vernon asks causing Josh to shrug once again. 

“I don’t know, maybe I’m scared it’ll ruin our friendship.” 

“There is nothing in this world that could end your friendship, you know why?” Mingyu asks, but he doesn’t wait for Josh to respond. “Because your guys’ friendship transcends any other thing. You guys are practically soulmates, don’t hide your feelings because of the anxieties.” 

“He’s right,” Vernon speaks. “Let’s say you did confess and they didn’t feel the same way, that’s a whole lot better than sitting here wondering what could have been.” 

Josh lets out a breath of air and nods his head slowly. 

What the boys were saying was true. 

What was the worst that could happen? You could say no and that Vernon was right. At least you can move on from a no, how can you move on from the thoughts of a what if? 

Because what if he didn’t tell her and there was a day where he began to regret that decision? How could he live with himself if he never told you how much he truly loved you? 

Josh shot up from his chair and sent a look to the two younger boys. 

“I need to tell them,” 

Vernon and Mingyu look at each other before looking at Josh with wide eyes.

“Like right now?” Mingyu asks.

Josh nods.

“Of course, when else am I going to tell them?” 

Vernon laughs and claps his hands. 

“Go on, go do it! Tell them, dude.” 

“I’m doing it,” Josh said before walking out the door. 

He came back in a moment later and picked up his car keys. 

“I’m doing it now!” He said leaving once more. 

Mingyu and Vernon looked at each other once more before speaking. 

“He’s seriously going to do it,” 

They looked back at the tv.

“Another game?”

“Sure.” 

SO back to you!! 

Since you’ve gotten back, you’ve put back on your drama, you’ve got your snacks back out and reclaimed your position on the couch. You’ve finally finished the first episode and you’re only into the second one by a minute or two when the sound of knocking on your door causes you to jump in fright. 

“What is it now?” You mumble to yourself as you place the snacks on your coffee table and throw your blanket to the side. 

Going to the door and opening it up, you make a face to yourself in shock at the sight of Josh standing behind it. 

“Oh Josh hey, what’s up? It hasn’t even been an hour and a half, miss me that much?” You laughed at your own joke, but your smile dropped at how serious Josh was. “Are you ok-...” 

He cuts you off, and your mouth drops. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you giggle. “What’s up with you?” 

“No, I mean, I love you, I’m in love with you. I look at you and my heart swells and I wouldn’t want anything more than to call you mine.” 

You blink for a moment as your brain tries to catch up with the words Josh is saying. 

“I-I…” You try to speak, but nothing came out. 

Josh begins to frown and looks down. Maybe I shouldn’t have listened to them, he thought to himself. 

“I’m sorry, I shou-...” 

However, this time you were the one to cut him off.

“I love you too.”

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.12

It's late Friday night or very early Saturday morning depending on how you want to look at it. You're just laying on your couch playing Stardew Valley when your phone goes off. Without looking you answer it.

“Why are you even up?” comes Kirby's exhausted voice from across the line.

“Medical condition, wbu?” you place the phone in between you ear and shoulder but don't really change your position as you continue with your game.

“Jesus fucking Christ you did not just pronounce 'wbu' like 'wah-bah-u'.” he's ranting a bit and you know from experience this is the tired slap happy ranting where he sets himself off every five minutes on new topics. So, you wait it out and continue your quest in learning the wizard's secrets.

Kirby finally calms down after a few moments to get to the point of why he called. To remind you that Saturday Night Dead was canceled tonight due to the Pride Picnic tomorrow.

“I know.” you said plainly barely paying attention to the ginger on the line.

“You're a little shit.”

“I know that too.” a smirk graces your lips and you pause your game.

You listen to Kirby's rant for three minutes before asking if anyone else still “needed” a reminder. And when he said 'no' you sent him off to bed and said you'd see him Sunday morning. With a cranky man toddler dealt with you went back to your game.

Contrary to what you had originally thought, this week had been pretty chill. Everything had been going great, no drama in the town, no set backs with the picnic, your stalker had been keeping a low profile, and sure you were on day three of no sleep but that's just a you issue really. You didn't even have a foreboding feeling about the picnic. Everything was going great...at least it would be had Jo not   specifically requested you wear something red, to her recital in a few weeks.

It's going to be so hard to thrift something school appropriate, red, and in your size. You thankfully have three weeks but unfortunately you're limited to weekend trips since you work during the week and wouldn't be able to go a few hours out to larger thrift stores to drive a few hours back home.

Your do nothing day is turning into a do something day. And you definitely can't get any sleep tonight because now you know you have something to do at five AM and you just wouldn't be able to rest peacefully at all. Scared that you'd fuck up the shopping trip you had planned. God you hate executive dysfunction and the anxiety it gives you, even for something like sleeping.

Thursday evening you spent all night googling the towns within a five hour radius and their second hand shops, after Jo had made her request to you. Your big ticket shops were two closer to the border of Pennsylvania. They were in pretty medium to high income neighborhoods so were the most likely to have formal wear on hand. Your plan was to drive there and get to the closer one by eight maybe get some breakfast while you waited for the shop to open. Then go to the second, and if you still hadn't met the requirements for an outfit you'd go to the town an hour away from there. Just to rinse and repeat until you went to all eight locations on your list. Making one big circle back to Kepler.

You really hoped you find something to wear at the first two. Seriously you don't want to be out shopping all day but you'd rather have a buffer of looking for things now than rushing the night before her recital.

Checking the time you see it's just a little after one in the morning. You've been playing Stardew for a few hours and are starting to get bored. Maybe you should switch games? Exiting out you ruin any progress you've made for the day, but you couldn't remember so it probably wasn't important progress. And you are now scrolling through your games looking for something to play.

Spiritfarer? No you don't feel like crying right now. Undertale? No you really don't feel like crying right now. Onion Boy Commits  Tax Evasion? Hmm, possible...but it's a quick game and you'd be done and back here in thirty minutes. Sally Face? Yea! You've been meaning to replay it for a while now and this seems as good a time as any.

Loading the game you settle deeper into the couch to become a teenage ghost detective. And you stay like that for the rest of the night until your alarm goes off mid way through chapter two. You'd been so focused on trying to get secrets that you hardly noticed the time going by. Okay, you were looking at Gizmo and taking pictures of the silly furball.

Stretching you get up and make your way to your room to grab a change of clothes, neck snapping to the side as you went. When you enter your room you're met with a white face with blocks of black for the eyes and black lipstick as its only facial features looking at you from the corner just feet away from the door. Even though your heart jumps into your throat at the sight you notice the figure doesn't get closer to you. Noting that and its immobility you figure it's a really weird and specific hallucination.

'Fucking weird?' you think as you ignore the hallucination and start rummaging through your closet.

It wouldn't be the first time a source of media has either triggered or inspired one of your hallucinations. But the face isn't exactly Sal's mask but it is mask like. Maybe Sal mixed with a panda. That's a fun thought. But overall nothing you need to worry about. Just have to get sleep tonight so you could enjoy the picnic tomorrow without any issues.

When you turn back around with your clothes in hand the hallucination is gone. You shrug before going to your bathroom to change. In a blink you are out the door and on the road by five after five. You hope you pass a Dunkin' in an hour or so, you'll need a little energy boost to get your day started. But pushing that thought aside you turn up your radio and turn off your thoughts.

Just vibes for right now, just you and the empty road.

Making it to the first thrift shop you are pleasantly surprised to see a string of old ladies shopping today. Wonderful, they'll look at knick knacks and you'll look at clothes. Looks like there won't be a need to guard clothing with your life. However when you get into the store it becomes incredibly apparent that the only thing to look at here are in fact the knick knacks.

Sighing you figure it'll at least be worth it to comb through skirts and shoes. Skirts are very limited to paisley prints that give you middle school dance flash backs, and long khakis. Neither are really what you're looking for right now so you leave them be. They'll find their homes with some home schooled kid eventually. Shoes are a bit more promising as you find a pair of red kitten pumps in your size immediately, they're a little worn but nothing a little shoe polish and leather paint can't fix.

That is until you think you see something grab at your wrist.

When you jerk back a shoe drops from your hand and the heel pops off. Again a very easy fix, plus this may get you a discount. Dropping to your knees you try to grab the heel from under the rack and when you do you notice a pair of boots that look like they've been hidden behind several pair of knee high riding boots. You grab them, they're reddish brown suede heeled boots. They're in pretty good condition and the price tag says thirteen, not bad. And they're in your size! Best find of the day, calling it now. You quickly collect your shoes and make your way to the register. While you may not wear the kitten pumps often you for sure have just found your new favorite boots.

Getting back in the car with one of three pieces for your outfit and one store down you make your way to the next town over for its store. The second store had a much wider selection of clothing however you didn't find much of anything this time. But there was a cute mini pencil skirt that had a tiny orange heart on the left side hem. You couldn't resist it when it was only two dollars.

Third times a charm or so they say. But as you're looking through the racks of dresses and skirts you start hearing whispers. Briefly looking up to see if anyone was actually around to where you'd be able to hear them you see no one. It's weird that you'd get auditory hallucinations without a visible one or without being asleep. That puts you on edge but you ignore the feeling to continue your shopping.

You've just turned to go have a look at the blazers when a voice pops into your head.

'He's here.' there's an edge of static following the words and the buzzing is enough to cloud your own thoughts.

Neck snapping to the side twice before cracking on the third time, “There we go” you say as you look around  only see families with kids in the store with you. No one is on their own or even looking your way.

'That you can see.'

Your heart is pounding harshly against your chest and while every fiber of your being is saying run. You can't it'd be obvious or it'd make you look like a whack job. So with a sharp intake of air you steady yourself and being to walk calmly to your car.

It's broad daylight and you would definitely be making a scene if your stalker tried anything. If anyone even came near you right now you'd probably scream in self preservation.

But it turns out you didn't need to worry as you got into your car, locking the doors without hassle. You didn't bother turning your radio on as you drove to the forth store. There wouldn't be a point not like you could focus with your nerves so frazzled. And that frazzled feeling doesn't go away as you arrive at the store.

Staying in the car a moment you wait to see if any other car near by seems familiar. Or any persons exiting seem familiar, like you've seen their faces in passing. No one does, and while that puts you at ease you'll still be vigilant of your surroundings.

The store's much smaller than the previous three and you decide to start with the blazer section this time. It seems like a good choice, even though it looked like a sea of black ¾ sleeve blazers and jackets you caught a glimpse of red from inside one coat. Pulling the hanger off you notice it isn't a richly colored lining but that someone shoved a red Chinese inspired silk skirt into the blazer. You aren't sure if they were judging the compatibility of the items as an outfit or if they were trying to hide it, but either way it's ended up in your hands. It's beautifully decorated in golden swirls and a dragon pattern embroidery. Putting it up to you it curls around your waist. Could mean it'd be a bit big for you, but nothing a little sewing couldn't fix.

You're pretty sure you had a black turtleneck tank top that would look great with this, and still be appropriate for hot late July weather. But maybe an additional red blazer or shawl would be a good idea. Looking at the sea of black before you you think it'd be best to continue this hunt another week.

Right now your nerves are fried and the sun is already starting to set. With thoughts of getting caught alone in the dark with your stalker you can't help but want to get home as soon as possible or at least get to a town where people would know you if your body showed up in a ditch.

Checking out with your skirt you once again find yourself in your car driving along the highway.

You get back to Kepler a little after nine, gas tank near empty so you drive on to the mini mart rather than stopping at home. You notice another car, which isn't strange for a gas station but very rare that more than two customers are here at the same time. Getting in to pay for gas you're stopped by Ronnie's pissed off voice.

“Leave Dave or I'll ban you from the shop!” she seems to seethe at the man in front of her.

“You don't have that kind of power Veronica.” gross it's David.

Whatever feeling of uncertainty you had before vanishes instantly at seeing the slime ball try to “flirt” with Ronnie. He continues to pester her and the two don't even register your entrance. Unfortunately for Ronnie she really can't do anything to stop these advances without getting in trouble. Fortunately for you, you have no such qualms.

“She said fuck off.” you push past the man shoulder checking him as you get to the counter to start talking with Ronnie.

David stumbles away not expecting the rough push. He glares down at you and you ignore him now that you're in a setting with another person. A person who has access to a silent emergency police button if things go sideways. You have back up this time and an escape plan, there's no way David can harm you right now.

“Hey, I'm gonna need thirty on pump four.” you said hoping you could just ignore the man and stall by talking about useless merchandise in the store to get him to leave. But that was before you're interrupted.

“Oh did someone grow a back bone while I was away?” you roll your eyes and pause before you lie.

“...anyway is Tim on break yet?” hoping she caught the look in your eyes to play along.

Tim was a new hire that David probably didn't know since he just got back into town. Easiest one to lie about and make excuses for why there wasn't a fourth car in the lot. The boys only seemed to have the RV and the sedan so perfectly reasonable that he got dropped off because one of his roommates needed the car.

The way Ronnie's eyes widen at you aren't out of relief but more out of realization. She shakes her head slightly, and you want to smack her for being an idiot and ruining your attempt to scare David off when she turns and yells towards the back.

“Hey Tim! You have a visitor!” you jump a bit at her volume and notice that David tenses by your side as well.

'...is she bluffing...' if she is this is the dumbest fucking bluff in the world and so easy to catch on to. You'll have to get her acquainted with true crime podcasts and shows so she can be better prepared in the future.

It isn't until you hear muffled swears and the sound of thudding from the back room of the store. It isn't long before the door to the back opens and you hear Tim's hushed voice speaking to Marigold for a second, “can you please not walk in front of me.”, and you see Tim walk through the door.

Tim's brown eyes scan the store clearly trying to find either Brian or Toby. His gaze barely passes over David but when it settles on your form leaning away from said creep and Ronnie shifting from one foot to the other the situation seems to click.

It was such a subtle change in his eyes, something you're sure that had you not been trying to catch his gaze to get your message across you would have missed. The way the highlight died before picking back up. It was probably just a trick of the over head lights, maybe he shifted a bit and it caused the light to hit differently. Something you could brush off...something you would have brushed off had you not heard a different voice speak when he opened his mouth.

“YN hey, did'ya need somethin'?” it was a notch lower than normal and somehow the tone was smoother than his usual rumble. For a moment you think he put on a voice for bravado.

Something inside tells you that's not Tim. But right now you need someone who looks like Tim. Someone who despite their “short” stature has an obvious muscle mass to them. One that confidently says “authority” to scare off the creep next to you.

You wrack your brain for something anything to say that would seem normal in this situation while you could try to assert the discomfort of Ronnie and yourself in your current situation. Just as you go to speak David begins to talk over you as he greets the man in the room.

“Hey there, name's David. Nice to see a new face in this place, how long you been here?”

Tim slides his eyes away from you and back over to David. He seems to straighten out his posture and looks over you and Ronnie before staring back at David.

“A while, is there a problem up here?”

“Oh no 's nothing like that!” David says jovially as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You jerk from the contact. “Just talking to these nice ladies.”

'Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting' plays over and over as you squirm out of his arm.

There's an emotion you can't quite place running through you as you heart rate picks up. You feel sick as if you can feel the bile rising to your throat. Are you having a panic attack? No that's not it you're too conscious and your thoughts aren't a jumbled mess. You're probably just over stimulated. You want to calm down.

'Do you' the whispered voice is back, 'Do you really?'

It's mocking you and the strange emotion from before spikes. Is this...is this rage? Are you so upset at being touched that you're experiencing genuine rage? One with such a burning passion that you can feel your body grow warm all over.

But what did the voice ask 'do you?' do you what? Do you want to calm down?

….no....

No you didn't you can feel it in your veins, in your bones, in your entire being. You didn't want to calm down you wanted to hurt David. You want to tear him to pieces. You wanted him to give you  a reason...any reason at all. Any reason to fucking destroy him.

You aren't entirely sure where these thoughts are coming from. Maybe you're just overstimulated, your  nerves fried from the weird feeling at the thrift shop today and then paired with someone you hated very much, touching you out of no where seemed to be your ultimate breaking point.

It's Tim who brings you out of your thoughts.

When did he get so close to you?

“I think you should leave. I know for a fact YN's boyfriend won't take kindly to you upsetting them like this.” he stresses the 'them' and it seems you've missed a few key points...like when the hell you got a boyfriend?

“Oh right, what's that scrawny kid gonna do twitch at me.” when did David start taking that tone with Tim and why was he talking about Toby? What did Toby have to do with this? How did David even know about Toby?

Seems David's taunt and knowledge of Toby unsettled Tim as well, if the hand on your shoulder gripping tightly had anything to say. Has that been there this whole time? When did he put it there?

“Trust me the kid's bite 's lot worse than his bark.” there's humor in Tim's voice as he says that but it's like an old joke no one else has context for.

'Fuckin' dick...is that suppose to be a joke about his mutilated mouth?' it really does sound like it. Maybe you're reading the clues wrong...maybe you heard Tim wrong.

Thankfully whatever the fuck is building up comes to an end when Pigeon walks through the doors. Oh she's on duty, Deputy Pigeon. She looks at the four of you and your positions. And although she has a pretty good idea what's happened from Ronnie's texts she can't help but ask.

“Al'ight, what's going on here?” it's clearly been a long day for her.

“Harassment. We've asked him to leave the store but he's refused and keeps bothering our customer and us.” Tim's fast response had you and Ronnie stumped.

Did a white cis male actually come to the aid of two decidedly not male people...instead of the other white cis male? Has Hell frozen over?

It's like he knew just what to say to the officer. And he didn't try to tiptoe around it to save the other man. Tim clearly didn't want this dragging out any longer than it already has. Even David himself seems a bit taken aback by Tim's, accurate, claims. Meanwhile Pigeon looks around the room and sighs. While she knows her younger sister wouldn't have texted if this wasn't serious she was the only one on duty tonight and would only be able to take the other three's statements.

“Al'ight I'll grab y'all's statements starting with you Nychn c'mon.” the tired looking woman took David outside so he could tell his side of the story. But even with two against one he'll probably end up getting a ban from the store. Especially since he did harass a customer and not just an employee.

After getting his statement and watching him drive off from the establishment Pigeon returned back inside.

“I swear tha' boy's head has never been on right.” shaking her head.

Pigeon asked for both your and Tim's sides of the story taking you a little ways away from each other  to “prevent compromising the other's story”.

“So... looks like I've got everything, I'll have the station call Monty in the mornin' and let 'im know that he's got a new ban.”

“What about Ronnie's statement?” Tim asks as Pigeon put away her pocket pal.

“Oh Tim, Pigeon's my sister.” it's the first time Ronnie's said something since calling for Tim.

At least you think it is after all you did have a little spell after being touched.

Tim nods and Pigeon heads off after warning the three of you to stay out of trouble. Now with just the three of you in the shop you turn to Tim.

“Thanks for the save Tim.” He just nods again.

“No problem, but you really should'a said somethin' sooner.”

“I don't know what happened I like blanked and forgot you went on break before he came in.” Ronnie pipes up looking flustered.

Weird. You've noticed that does tend to happen when David's around. Maybe you should look into memory stealers. Might be why David's vibes are all off. That or he's a fucking serial killer and your instincts are trying to warn you but there are so many red flags your brain glitches instead. Whatever the reason may be you'll have to keep your guard up when he's around. It's super sketchy he left when Bambi went missing and it's a strange time to come back to town after “helping” your sister after her divorce. Two months isn't enough time to find a new routine or settle court battles.

Tim leaves to clock in and continue his break for another twenty minutes. You aren't sure that's right but Ronnie doesn't seem to complain and you've got to admit he did save you guys from that creep unpaid so he kinda deserves it. You go to pay Ronnie for gas and for some of the frozen taquitos that they normally have on the rotation cooker. But she puts thirty dollars on your pump and then just hands you a pack of the taquitos.

“Thanks for...y'know.” she might be a bitch but Ronnie can be nice if the situation calls for it.

Plus you can see by the expiration date that she'd have to just toss these out at the end of the night anyway. Who are you to turn down free food?

You head home and take your clothes and taquitos inside. You toss the clothes in an arm chair in your living room. And fall asleep on your couch shortly after eating. You are thoroughly exhausted and you had actually been tired last night. Had it not been for errands you'd have slept last night. Now you definitely have to sleep early to wake up early to finish cooking for the picnic.

[lesbow]

i wanna talk about claire & douxie

so im on episode 4 and just got to the scene where claire uses her shadow magic to create a portal for them to go see the lady of the lake. this scene is claire’s moment of development and i loved it for her. i dont wanna take away from that but i also loved it because of claire and douxie’s bond during it. im sure there will be several other posts about how awesome this was claire bc it really was, so i guess just take this as another perspective on the scene.

before i start i would just like to say: this post is about their strictly platonic relationship. i dont ship them and honestly dont know how i feel about them as a ship in general since douxie is significantly older than them (”college aged”) and i dont really think its right. especially bc on the wiki it says claire is only 15-16 (im guessing 16 since its been A Minute since s1 of trollhunters lol) and in the show douxie canonly says he’s 19-esque. so pls dont go reading this in ya know that kind of lense bc thats not my intention.

alright so now that i’ve got that out the way

from the start douxie has obviously gravitated towards claire because of their shared understanding of magic. when they first drop in camelot, he confides in her the most and whenever she gets upset he takes it strongly, seemingly as a personal hit. like when he tried to talk about the brightside of jim being imprisoned and then claire bursts into tears (bc obviously lol it really wasnt a great situation to be in). but i really wanna talk about the scene in episode 4 when claire starts to become more comfortable with her magic. 

douxie comes up with the plan in the first place because he has full confidence in claire’s abilities. he starts off by talking about how amazing her powers are and that she shouldn’t be afraid of herself. he expresses not one ounce of doubt abt how strong claire is and fully supports her, even when claire refuses to herself. 

seeing morgana die and knowing they share the same magic was an understandably awful thing for claire to witness, and she is obviously traumatized from it as she still has nightmares and visions about morgana’s death. but then douxie, who has complete & utter faith in her, encourages her to use her magic. so she tries just because he asked. claire tho who still feels uncertain asks for his help in return, and douxie is completely shocked by it. i have expressed several times how much i hate merlin and i am NOT afraid to do it again bc i 100% blame his constant degradation for douxie’s low self esteem. 

which also leads me to believe that douxie connects with claire, not only bc of their use of magic but because he also sees himself in her. they both have little confidence in their powers that stem somewhat from their predecessors. douxie vs merlin’s nonstop insults and claire vs morgana’s seemingly inevitable evilness. he sees himself in her because he was her (and still is) and subconsciously, as most of us do, wants to become the support he wish he had. 

but helping those younger than you/who were in your shoes also has a way of making you reflect on yourself too. which is why, even tho he was fully prepared to give claire emotional encouragement, he was blindsided when she asked for his teaching. he wants to help raise claire’s confidence, but has yet to work on his own. 

when the rock.... wall...... thingies.... insult douxie and agree on him being subpar, claire (and archie but this aint about him) immediately fires back at them to cool it. and while douxie didn’t disagree with the rockwallthingies, he clearly appreciated claire standing up for him and smiles about it. her sticking up for him helps give him the boost he needed to teach her what he knows. 

while attempting the portal, douxie gives her constant words of encouragement. and when claire, who is gradually becoming more and more unstable, confesses that she is afraid, his tone changes and becomes softer. he is still confident in her abilities, but also knows how overwhelming they can be and doesn’t hesitate to switch from determined support to warm reassurance. 

things turn for the worse tho when claire ends up giving into her fear and the shadow portal swallows her. 

(i tried my best to gif what happens bc i dont think a screenshot would do it justice)

once claire succumbs to her fear and her magic swallows her whole, douxie hyperventilates. i’d even say he was panicking bc this was the one thing neither of them wanted to happen. its both of their fears happening all at once. douxie’s initial fear of being a bad teacher/influence/magic user in general and claire’s fear that her magic will overpower her, both being proven right in the worst way possible. 

what douxie doesnt realize yet is that his teaching didnt fail. while claire is in the shadow realm, she sees morgana’s corpse again and freezes up. but then she pauses as soon as she remembers douxie’s words “dont let fear control you. stay true to yourself.” and with the help of his previous support, she gains the courage to finally face what she’s been afraid of and brings herself back to them. while douxie is terrified that he’s failed claire, it’s actually his words that help her succeed.

once claire comes back, douxie is immediately up and grabs her face to check for injuries. he crowds her so much, archie even has to tell him to relax and give her space. douxie is skilled in magic, but he has no idea what shadow magic and all it entails is actually like, so it isnt unreasonable for his imagination to have run wild with all the dangers claire could’ve been exposed to.

claire rambles about what happened (rambling claire is the most adorable claire) but douxie misreads her curiosity as anxiety and goes to comfort her again. “we understand if you dont want to go back in” its just constant constant support from this guy! (which is funnily enough the exact opposite of what he received from merlin.) he sees her eyes are glued to morgana’s spell book and gently pushes it away. in his mind, what happened in the shadow realm was most likely a bad experience and instead of trying to force her to do it again, he tells her to not feel rushed to go back in. he gets that what he thought was encouragement might’ve actually been pressure and doesn’t hesitate to make sure claire knows that they, and he, will support whatever she wants to do. 

claire quickly tells him that’s not the case and that she’s fine. and whether or not she’s aware of his insecurities yet, she lets him know his influence was actually a great help. 

the positive words surprise douxie and make him smile. once again, claire’s kindness has uplifted his spirits. 

between these two its just a back and forth of nonstop support. douxie helps claire not be afraid of her own magic, and claire helps douxie not fall into self deprecation. as the show goes on i think they will grow to have a very strong sibling-like bond and i cant wait to see it.

[sabraeal]

Age of Reason, Part 1

Obiyuki AU Bingo Sleeping Beauty AU

The moon hangs swollen in the night sky, a bloated corpse in the river of the heavens. Fitting for a night like this, for the job he’s about to do.

Salt is thick on the air; a strange taste for a path in the middle of a wood, so tangled and choked with briars that he can hardly pass. As it is, they catch on the wool of his shirt, pulling snags in the pile. He huffs, plucking one from the shoulder seam. By the end of this little excursion, he’ll need a new wardrobe.

His mouth curves. Good. With the mountain of dir he’ll get from this job, he can afford an upgrade.

That is, if he ever gets there. The canopy looms, branches criss-crossing in a messy tangle, blotting out the sun. They said the village was only half a day’s walk, barely an hour over the border but--

That’s the thing about borders in these parts: there’s nothing to mark them.

The brush rattles, soft as a snake’s warning. His feet slide beneath him, supporting his crouch, legs coiled tight to pounce--

“Ah! Hail, traveler!” A man slips out from the bush, his hair a sloppy thatch of mouse brown, a basket perched high on his back. “Not many on these roads, of late!”

He straightens, yanking his boot away from where a briar has latched around its brim. “Can’t imagine why.”

The man smiles at that, but it’s a faint, bitter thing. “Ah yes, well, the plant life is certainly aggressive.”

He frowns down, plucking a bramble off his shoulder. “Can you tell me if it is far to Clarines?”

“Clarines?” His lips part in a friendly flash of teeth. “Why, you’re already there. Or at least close.” He hunches, squinting into the undergrowth. “There should be a marker, oh-- ah! There!”

There-- a small statue, nearly swallowed by the forest, shoulder-high. He steps toward it, gloved hand pushing aside the briars.

“What’s this?” He tilts his head. “An angel?”

“To guide us,” the man says, hushed. “Or guard us. I hardly know any longer.”

He lets out a bark of a laugh. “I thought the Clarinese were above superstition.”

The stranger’s smile wears thin. “So did we.”

The man next to him is large, tall and wide as a mountain, dwarfing the stool he sits on. Still, there’s something delicate about him, almost hesitant, holding this breath like he’s taking a plunge off the world’s edge.

“There’s a place,” the man says, his voice a deep rumble, like the way rocks move beneath the mantle of the earth. “In Clarines, just over the border. A manor.”

He leans in, on the hook. A manor means money, whether the people in it are alive or not. “Clarines? I thought they didn’t brook with the supernatural anymore. They’re--” he pauses, for dramatic effect-- “enlightened.”

The man’s mouth rucks into a smirk. “That they are.”

“And you’re telling me this manor is cursed,” he asks, dubious. “In this great land of reason.”

There’s gravel in this man’s laugh, the sorta of rasp that only comes from experience. “A man’s only reasonable if he believes what he sees with his two eyes.”

“And you’ve seen this?” he presses. “A cursed manor right in Clarines?”

“I have.” His teeth flash in the tavern’s dim. “And if you have any sense, you’ll see it too.”

“Where are you headed?” The man bobs along beside him, the mousy haystack of his hair ruffling in the breeze. “Down on to Wistal? I hear it’s nice this time of year. Prince just had a baby too, I heard. Holding a big party just to name the thing.”

He sighs. Clarines might be a land of reason, but they still clung to their royals. “No.”

“Eurikenna isn’t half bad either, if you don’t mind sticking to your own skin,” the man offers amiably. “They’ve got a festival of their own going on, least so they’re saying.”

He knows persistence when he sees it; this man has no intention of letting him walk in companionable silence. “I’m headed to Laxdo. Just across the border.”

The man’s brows hike to his hairline. “That so?” He lets out a huff of a laugh. “Seems as though we’re headed the same way. The name’s Shuuka.”

“Ah.” His mind whirs. “You can call me Kage.”

“Well, Kage--” he hitches the basket higher on his back-- “what brings you out to Laxdo?”

The gate, in theory, shouldn’t be a problem. Those royals like to make them high, make them spiked, make them out of wrought iron to keep the riff-raff out. He’s no stranger to being kept on the outside.

Boosting over a fence is no trouble, no matter how high they make it. But the briars, well-- those are a problem.

It’s the first part of his night to disappoint his expectations, but oh, it’s far from the last.

“Business.” His hands flex at his side, even as he smiles. “And maybe some pleasure.”

Shuuka’s smile stiffens. “Ah, well, there’s not much of either in Laxdo. Though if you’ve got something to trade, there’s always a few itching to buy.”

The man gives his pack a cursory look, but he assures him, “I’m no merchant.”

“Huh.” Shuuka’s mouth purses, thoughtful. “What else might bring you out this way?”

“KUREI!” A band of men raises their tankards as they catch sight of him in the corner, cheeks ruddy with drink. “The savior of Oberwald! You have a drink?”

He raises his own stein, nearly empty, but they’re all too far into their own to notice. With a raucous cheer, they turn back to the bar, wheedling for another pint.

Good. Now when they remembered that name, they would talk of the man who drank drink-for-drink with them, who told them just what they wanted to hear. He wouldn’t, of course-- but this night would be a blur to them, and a conversation with the man of the hour would be a lie that was safe to make. After all, he wouldn’t be around to gainsay them.

The big man is steady as he pours, the bottle comically small in his meaty hand. “Ah, so that’s what you have them call you.”

He watches his cup fill with dismay, smile plastered onto his lips. Now this-- this wouldn’t do. He could drink any of village men under the table, but this stranger--

Well, he knows when he’d be beat. “All the villages between here and Altenrode.”

“Quite a ways,” the giants says, shifting on his stool. “Thought I recognized the name they were shouting when I came in.”

“Many a tavern lifts a glass to me.” And he’s sure more than a few toast his eventual demise too. “But about this manor...”

The man’s mouth slides into a dangerous curve. “Ah, right, the cursed manor. Used to be a royal residence, you know. One of the ones built by the old king.”

A king’s manor. All the more promising. “Never heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t,” he agrees, “it was barely been finished before he died. The prince took up with it though. Kept a mistress of his there.”

He’d never much cared for Clarines-- too learned, and too suspicious in all the wrong ways-- but he did know something of their royals. At least, the younger ones. “The prince?”

“The same.”

His finger taps at the tables. “But none of this explains the curse.”

The man’s mouth splits wide, teeth flashing white in the dim. “Why do you think you’ve never heard of it?”

“I heard a rumor,” he says, casual, “that there’s a manor in Laxdo that used to belong to the royal family.”

Shuuka’s step stutters beside his. “Still does,” he manages after a moment. “On paper.”

Ah, now that was promising. “So it’s true.” He slants a sly look at him. “It was abandoned.”

A blunt-fingered hand ruffles through his mop of hair, anxiety entrenched at the corners of his eyes. “That it was.”

“The prince’s mistress used to live there, did she?” He doesn’t need to wait for Shuuka’s answer, it’s writ across his face. “Some say she still does.”

It’s silent for a moment, only the crunch of their shoes on the path to fill it, until Shuuka croaks, “Who says that?”

“So you mean this is a ghost situation.” He takes a quick sip of his ale and wishes he had more. “A haunting. Maybe a poltergeist.”

“No.” The man’s smile grows thin. “She’s alive, by all accounts.”

Alive. Now that’s a different sort of request. “I’ll admit you’ve got me intrigued, mister, but I exorcise spirits, not ex-mistresses.”

His mouth twists wryly. “Is that what you call it, then?”

“It is.” He settles back into his chair, balancing some of his weight on his toes. His knives dig comfortingly into the arch of his back. “I may make a name for myself for ridding folk of unwelcome guests, but those are the ones who have lingered, and need to pass on. By all accounts, a living mistress, well--” he winks-- “she’s done her job, and I’m not the sort to pry her from her hard-earned reward.”

The man shifts, the light of the lamps skittering over the hard planes of his face, and he grins. “Glad to hear it.”

Ever so slowly, he slides his feet down, so his soles touch the floor. “Still think I should go see this manor?”

“More than ever,” the man admits, and in the light, he swears he can see red glittering among the gray of his hair. “You see, this mistress, she’s not dead--” he hesitates, lingering at the edge of another drop-- “she’s asleep.”

Shuuka lets out a long string of air. “Wouldn’t think they’d talk about all that, even out in Tanbarun.”

“Ah, you know how it is.” He shrugs. “They love a good story. Even better if there’s a pretty girl with a curse.”

Shuuka grunts, casting him a measuring look. “And that’s what brought you here?”

He grins. “Who could resist?

The man shifts next to him, hesitant. “Just what was it that you do again, Kage?”

The brambles wrap tight around the bars, thorns as sharp and thin as needles. He places a hand over it, and-- ah, yes, that’s not smart. Not gonna be able to climb that way.

Not that he has many other options. Forewarned is forearmed, and someone hadn’t seen the need to tell him about the thicket of thorns tangled around the only entrance. Besides what could hang off his belt-- a few of his finer tools and a couple of his favorite knives, and a handful of nuts for good measure-- he’s shown up empty handed to a pruning party.

Still, if she had gotten in, he could too. He’d just have to get creative about it.

He stares down at his hands, leather giving a soft squinch as he flexes them. His teeth clench at the feel of padding against his palm.

Or he might just have to do this the old fashioned way.

His mouth hooks into a smirk. “I didn’t say.”

Shuuka’s eyes narrow. “Is that how you got that bruise on your cheek?”

The salt is rough against his palms, stinging where cuts haven’t yet become calluses. This hasn’t been the easy job he signed up for, but-- it’s fine. All this ends tonight.

He cranes his neck, squinting at the fattening moon in the sky. It’s not as full as he wants it, but that’s par for the course on this misadventure. It’ll do.

Stretching out a toe, he scratches a circle in the dirt. This isn’t how he likes to do this-- most villages have at least cobbled stones at its center, some sort of central pavilion around the town well, but-- not here.

He grimaces, pouring the sand into the trench he’s made. His payment here is more likely to be greens than guilder, but-- he knows better than to turn his nose up at a good meal. Not when he knows there’s no guarantee of his next.

“Kurei,” the mayor hisses from his doorstep, not daring to take a single step from its frame. “Are you sure--?”

“Stand back!” he warns, holding out his hands. Outstretched, they just fit inside the circle. “When I call the curse’s spirit, it will be violent! It longs for a life, and if any living being stands in this square besides myself, they risk becoming its next host!”

The townsfolk murmur worriedly at their doors, and one by one they close, even as shutters peep open. Eyes peer curiously out from slender cracks, all of them fixed on him. As they should be.

“I shall now call out the incantation.” He raises his arms, hands grasping beseechingly at the moon. “Protect me now, O Mysterious Maiden, for I call forth a power both vengeful and unknowable!” He takes a breath, and projects the words, “Veni! Vidi! Vici!”

For a long moment, there is only silence. He glances at sky, frowning as a cloud leisurely passes.

He clears his throat. “Veni. Vidi. Vici!”

A wind picks up, sudden and urgent, blowing at the salt in his circle, and pricking at his hair, but--

The moon shines down, unimpeded, and the circle around him softly begins to glow. Perfect.

A grunt saws from the rooftops, followed by a savage snort and a dangerous growl. He turns, a moment too late--

And catches a beastly elbow to the face.

His lips part in a grin. “Well now,” he drawls, casting his companion a sly look. “If you want to hear about that, you’ll have to buy me a drink.”

[just-dreaming-marvel]

ONE HUNDRED FIFTY TWO - PETER (3)

LEGACY: A Tony Stark Daughter Story

FULL STORY MASTERLIST

ENDING THREE MASTERLIST

< previous

Word Count: 2,120ish

Summary: Bailey tries to reach out to Peter.

~~~

Four months later…

Bucky and I were still going strong. Everyone was extremely supportive of our relationship and Bucky and I actively worked to gather to help each other cope with our pasts. Morgan was the most supportive about our relationship, at least vocally. Her and Bucky were constantly up to no good. Steve and I’s friendship still wasn’t where either of us wanted it to be, but we kept trying. I had basically given up on trying to get Peter to open up to me, believing that he’d come to me in time.

The new Avengers Facility had finished construction about a month ago, though the world didn’t know that yet. We wanted to do a dedication ceremony. I insisted that we wait until we had formed a team before we did so. Bucky and I were the first residents of the facility, sharing a bedroom. We immersed ourselves in the Initiative, first on putting the world back together and then recruiting. I also immersed myself in Stark Industries. I was so busy that I barely had time to check in with anyone. 

One day, while I was busy working on paperwork, I received a call from May Parker. She asked me to support her fundraiser and told me that Peter would be there as Spider-Man to boost moral. She told me that it was later that night and that she’d love to see me there, hanging up before I could respond. I leaned forward, nervously biting my thumb nail and bouncing my leg. Footsteps were heard coming from behind me, but I didn’t care. Strong hands came in contact with my shoulders and began massaging them.

“Why all the nervous energy?” Bucky wondered. 

I leaned back into the man as he continued to massage. “May Parker just called.”

“And?”

“And I’m a disappointment to my father… I haven’t been keeping tabs on the kid like I should be.”

“You’ve had a lot on your plate. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“He’s basically my brother, Buck. Dad was the closest thing he’s had to a father in a long time. He’s been mourning his death too, and I haven’t been there for him.”

“What does this have to do exactly with May calling?”

“There’s a fundraiser tonight for those who’ve been displaced because of the blip. She asked if Stark Industries would donate and I attend. Peter’s going to be there as Spider-Man.”

“You should go.”

I looked up at him. “You think so?”

“I do.” He bent down and pecked my lips. “And, May apparently called Pepper first, who then called me to help get you there.”

“Those little she-devils,” I grumbled.

Bucky chuckled as he pecked my hairline. “I have an outfit laid out for you on our bed and a car waiting for you out front.”

I stood up, turning around and dropping my arms over his neck. “What would I do without you?”

“Never actually make a decision.”

“You’re probably right.” I shrugged.

He pecked my lips again. “Go get changed and see the kid. I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He turned me around and gave my butt a little smack. “Now go.”

I laughed as I walked away. My favorite outfit was waiting for me me, laid out on my bed as promised. I slowly got changed and ready, nervous the whole time. I just hoped that Peter didn’t hate me. In taking care of myself, Pepper, and Morgan, I had completely forgotten about my brother. There was a driver waiting for me in the car but I told him that I wanted to drive myself. I hopped in the driver’s seat, rolled down all the windows, and sped out of there. I took the long way into the city, trying to clear my head. I ended up being there thirty minutes late. I took a deep breath before exiting the car. I was looking down, putting the keys in my bag when I bumped into someone.

“Opps, sorry,” the man apologized.

I quickly looked up. There stood Happy, holding a giant check with Pepper’s signature on it. “Happy? What are you doing here?”

“Pepper couldn’t make it and asked me to deliver this.” He held the check up.

“She knew I was coming. Why didn’t she just ask me?”

“Uhh… Well… you see… She didn’t--“

“Oh,” I nodded in realization. “I get it, Happy.” I patted his shoulder, giving him a knowing smirk. “You’re here to see May.”

“I don’t know wha—“

“Don’t worry.” I winked as I began to walk inside backwards. “I’ll keep your little secret.” I turned around.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Bailey!”

“You can’t hide anything from me, Hap!  I’m a mind reader, remember?”

I entered the ballroom just in time to see Spider-Man awkwardly giving the audience a thumbs-up. They were all clapping and cheering for him. 

“Thank you Spider-Man,” May said as she went up to the mic. “He’ll be right back out to take photos and videos, thank you!”

The two headed backstage. I wandered over to the stage and found my to the back. By the time I got there, Happy was already making awkward small-talk with May and Peter was very confused while watching the interaction. 

“Anyway, the reason I’m late is because this was misplaced,” Happy stated. It was a stupid excuse and I didn’t have to read his mind to tell it wasn’t true. “Can you believe it? Because it’s enormous. Not the amount, the size. The amount and the size.”

“Oh,” May laughed.

“The very generous Pepper Potts, said—“

“Thank you.”

“—she’s sorry she couldn’t be here.”

“But she did send me in her place,” I interrupted. The three of them quickly turned to look at me. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Bailey,” May came up and engulfed me in a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too May.” She pulled away and I faced Peter. “Hey Pete.”

“Hey B,” he quietly responded.

“I think I’m going to go change the stereo under the vegan lasagna,” May stated as she took the check from Happy and turned to Peter. “Spider-Man, go shake hands.”

“Will do,” Peter responded as May left. He nervously hugged me. I inhaled his scent as he did the same with me. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” We pulled away but my hands found his shoulders. “I’m sorry for failing to be there for you.”

“I’m fine.” I raised a questioning brow at him. “Really, B. I’m fine.”

“Okay.” I was unconvinced.

“Heads up,” Happy cut in. “Nick Fury is calling you.” 

“Nick Fury’s going to call me?” Peter questioned.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Peter and I asked at the same time.

“Why? Because he probably has some hero stuff for you to do. You’re a superhero. He calls superheroes.”

“Well, I mean if it was really that important, he’d probably call someone else. Like Bailey. Not me.” Peter’s phone began ringing.

“Apparently not.” Happy said as Peter pulled his phone out from the bag. The three of us looked down at the phone. “No caller ID. That’s him.”

“I don’t really want to talk to Nick Fury.”

“Answer the phone,” Happy demanded.

“Why?’ 

“Because if you don’t talk to him, then I have to talk, and I don’t want to talk to him.” 

“Why don’t you want to talk to him?”

“Because he’s scared,” I answered.

“Just answer the phone,” Happy said as he glared at me. Peter held up his phone and declined the call. 

“You sent Nick Fury to voicemail?” 

“Yeah.”

“You don’t send Nick Fury to voicemail!”

“Did you hear that? They’re calling me. I got to go.” Peter started to back away. “I got to go.” 

“You got to talk to him.”

“I’m going to call him. I promise you. I’m going to call him. I will.”

“You do not ghost Nick Fury!” 

“I promise you, I’ll call him.” And then Peter was gone.

I sighed, very confused. “Why would Fury call you and Peter but not me?” I wondered. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t understand the way that man thinks,” Happy replied.

I made my way out to see how things were going with Peter. He was standing just off the stage, surrounded by people bombarding him with questions.

“What is it like to take over for Tony Stark,” a heard someone ask. I froze and could feel Peter’s anxiety grow. “Those are some big shoes to fill.”

“I’m, uh…” Peter was at a loss for words. “I’m gonna go. Thanks so much everyone, for coming.” 

He quickly left out an open window. I rushed out of the building after him. I couldn’t find him from where I was standing. I sulked back to my car, trying to think of anything in there that I could use to find him. Ever since Tony died, I’d stopped wearing the nanotech suit. I hadn’t put it on since that day. I had even made myself a new one, but never had the nerve to try it out. I threw my head back when I sat down in the drivers seat. I went to start the car when I noticed a post-it note on the glove box. It simply said, ‘open it’. I opened it to find another post-it note on top of my new bracelet.

I read the note out loud to myself, “I thought you might need this. You got this. Love, Bucky.” I chuckled. “You just think of everything don’t you?” 

I slipped on the bracelet as I exited the car. I got out my phone and quickly texted one of my in city assistants to pick up my car. After slipping my phone into my pocket, I pressed the button and activated my suit.

“Good evening, Miss Stark,” FRIDAY greeted.

“Good evening, FRI. Locate Peter for me will you?”

“He’s a few buildings down, on the roof.”

“Let’s go talk to him then.”

I flew up and FRIDAY took me to him. I silently came up behind him. He was crouched down, mask off, staring at the Iron Man mural on the building over.

 I landed, making my suit disappear. I could feel the sadness rolling of off him. He wasn’t okay, and I became determined that he wouldn’t have to go through these feelings alone anymore. 

“I only heard the last question,” I spoke up, “and I’m sorry. They shouldn’t have asked that.” No response. “The responsibility of being the next Iron Man does not fall on you. It doesn’t need to fall upon anyone. We both know that there’s only one Iron Man.”

Peter stood up and turned around. His eyes were red and puffy. My heart broke a bit at the sight. Peter was the reason Tony choose to fight to bring everyone back. I couldn’t let Peter know that but I needed to be better at doing what my father would want.

“Oh, Peter,” I took some steps forward. “I’m so sorry that I haven’t been there for you. I’ve only been concerned about myself that I forgot that Morgan and I weren’t his only kids.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me,” he rushed out his lie. “You have a lot on your plate.”

“And you should be one of those things. So from now on, I’m going to be better. How about you come stay a few days at the Facility once summer starts? Bucky and I would love to have you.”

“I would lov—“ He quickly shook his head when he fully took in what I had said. “Wait a minute— Did you say you and Bucky? As in like Bucky Barnes? The Winter Soldier?”

“Yes… um… yeah, him and I are kind of dating.” I could feel a tinge of hurt from him. He was sad that I had time for a new relationship but not for him. “Peter, I—“ I reached out for him.

“Thanks for the offer, Bailey. But I’m going on a school trip to Europe this summer.” He slipped on his mask. “I’ve got to go.” A web shot out and he swung away.

My head fell back as an unsteady sigh left my lips. I knew that going after him right now wouldn’t fix anything so I formed my suit around me and flew home. When I landed outside the facility, I could feel that Bucky was in our bedroom. I didn’t want to talk about Peter just yet, so I went straight to the lab and began working on fixing my suit.

next >

[alison-anonymous]

flawsome bandits pt. 19 ♡ sonic

Flawsome Dealbreakers

Apologies to such a late update, but I promise that things are going to turn up very soon! This chapter is very sad, but is also very necessary for the progression of the story. I believe there are about 5 chapters left I have planned for this series, so I just want to say thank you to all my fans for such amazing support. It means the world to me and I love you darlings so much ♡

Warnings - much angst, THIS IS NOT A HAPPY CHAPTER

♡♡♡

Before the sky had even woken up, Y/n was already wide awake.

It had felt like she was treading through a thousand knives as she pulled herself away from her sleeping boyfriend and pulled her shoes on, making sure to not make a sound and disturb her other comrades. Even though every fiber of her being was begging her to stay, she did her best to force herself not to think too much about what she was going to do. Because if she stopped to think, then she would convince herself not to go and if she didn’t go, then she would be putting everyone she cared about in danger. 

I have to do this, she told herself. It’s the only way…

Rain clouds boomed above her head as she made her way through the thickened forest, stepping carefully over fallen branches and moving through sun-dried clearings. The silence made her skin crawl as she had gotten used to travelling with her chatty friends, but if she was going to go through with this, well… let’s just say she would have to get used to the silence.

Wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to keep warm, she finally came up to the site where Robotnik had been staying. It had changed immensely since the last time that she had seen it. He had made a makeshift trailer out of spare parts that he had dissected from his drone as well as some other pieces that she was sure he had sent Shadow to fetch for him. A steady stream of chalky black smoke arose from behind it, and she stopped just before the clearing where she was still partly hidden in the darkness of the trees. Y/n stared with wide, petrified e/c eyes as some of his eggbots were sweeping the area for any intruders. Was she really doing this right now? It’s not too late, she could just go back right now and no one would need to know about it. But as Sonic, Spirit, Tails, and her parents’ faces flashed through her mind, she knew that she needed to do this.

Sucking in a shaky breath, she dropped her arms limply to her sides and stepped out into the clearing. Instantly the egg bots turned to her, and began to fire up their lasers. Panic began to spike through her heart as she quickly put up her hands in surrender, staring straight into the lens. She didn’t know if he was sitting behind the scenes watching them, but it was her best bet right now. Just in case she had to move, she let out a gentle hum, feeling the electricity surge through her body.

“I come in peace,” the icy blue hedgehog shouted, hoping that he could hear her. “I don’t want to fight. I have a proposal for you, Robotnik.”

She waited, but the bots didn’t move. After what seemed like forever, they finally continued on their path of scanning the rest of the area around her, checking to make sure that she was alone. A little green light turned on the top of one of the bot’s heads, and before long, a very strange looking man popped out of the makeshift trailer. Y/n’s eyes widened in horror as she took in the bloated belly, the sausage length whiskers on each side of his face, the bald head, and oversized goggles that were placed over his eyes. But the one thing that she instantly recognized was the crazed smile that only a lunatic doctor wore.

This was Doctor Robotnik.

“Well, well, well, look who we have here,” Robotnik snickered, flipping his goggles on his forehead as he lumbered his way over to her. She couldn’t help but wonder how he could seem so casual coming towards her since she was his enemy, but then again, she was greatly outnumbered at the moment. “Did little Bonnie lose her Clyde?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Y/n muttered, shaking her head quickly. Remember, Y/n, she told herself. Don’t think. Just do. Don’t think. “I want to make a deal with you.” 

Robotnik stops a couple feet in front of her and taps his gloved hand to his chin, his eyes scanning over her body in concentration. “You want to make a deal? I got to admit, I didn’t think you would have the brain capacity to come up with such a concept.”

Y/n ignored the retort, and took a deep breath for courage. Would he accept her proposal? Well, there was only one way to find out wasn’t there? Of course it would mean signing away her entire life to this lunatic, but if it meant saving those that she cared about, then she would gladly die for that cause. She bit her lip, and forced herself to meet his hard gaze, making sure that he saw how serious she was. 

“If you promise to leave Sonic, Spirit, Tails, Knuckles, my family, and Green Hills alone, then I will give myself up.” Robotnik’s eyebrows raised in shock before he could stop them. Was he hearing this correctly? “You may do whatever you like with me. I will consent to any experiments and I won’t fight back, ever. Even if it means that you end up killing me. Just as long as you leave my friends and family alone.” Y/n had to fight back the tears that were beginning to build up as she spoke, knowing that she was practically committing suicide. I have to do this… “I know you’d only be getting one hedgehog, but my powers have been expanding whereas Sonic’s have not. Do we have a deal?” 

Robotnik could only stare at her in shock. Y/n Wachowski, the girl that had once told him off when he had nearly killed her boyfriend, was now giving herself up in order to save her friends and family? It was almost laughable, and it gave him a big self-esteem boost knowing that she feared him. But even though this threw a wrench in his previous plan, this is why he always made sure to keep a plan B, C, D, and E. In that order. 

A slow smirk made its way across his lips as a new plan began to set in motion. “Alright,” he nodded slowly, watching as Y/n’s expression sank. Of course she didn’t want to do this. Why would she? Selling herself to a doctor in order to save her friends was hardly an easy choice, but there were some things that still needed to be taken care of. “We have a deal. But there are some conditions. Before we get into that, I have to ask, why are you doing this?” 

It was Y/n’s turn to look shocked as the color from her face began to drain. She let out a small sniffle, signifying that she was on the edge of breaking. It made Robotnik ecstatic as he watched the once mighty Bonnie break down before him. 

This is how you break a hedgehog, folks. All you have to do is threaten everything that she holds most dear. 

“I am doing this to save my family and friends. I would much rather die than let them get hurt over something that I could have done something to prevent,” She answered truthfully. Robotnik nodded, pleased with her anwer. 

“Fair enough. Now, dear, there’s just one little problem,” he bent down on his knees so that he was eye level with her, and she instantly felt her blood run cold at his closeness. But she forced herself to stay still, knowing that she had to live up to her promise. No matter how afraid of this man she was, she made a promise. No more fighting. “How do I know that this isn’t a trick? Or that your little boyfriend isn’t going to come and try to rescue you?” 

Unfortunately, Y/n had already thought ahead and knew exactly what she had to do. It was going to kill her, perhaps even before Robotnik had the chance to do so, but it needed to be done.

“I’ll take care of it.” She spoke dryly, but her sincerity still remained. Robotnik grinned maliciously and patted her head, causing her to wince. 

“Good little dolly,” Robotnik chuckled, his eyes growing dark. “You know what you have to do.”

♡♡♡

Before Y/n even made it back to their campsite, she was already finding herself being swooped off her feet into the arms of a worried electric blue hedgehog.

“Y/n?” Sonic cried, hugged her tightly against his chest. “Oh my god, is it really you? Thank God, I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Well, we have, but mostly me! Where were you? Did Shadow take you again?” Y/n felt the instant fluttering in her stomach of knowing how much he cared about her, but it died just as quickly as she reminded herself of why she came back here. Very hesitantly, she pushed against Sonic’s chest so he would put her down, and took a couple steps away from him. Sonic’s brows furrowed in confusion, and before he had a chance to say something else, the others were making their way up behind him as well.

“Y/n! Oh my god, you’re okay!” Spirit cried out in relief, and smiles made their way onto Tails and Knuckles’s lips. But all of it was short lived as they took in Y/n’s restricting form.

“N/n?” Sonic asked softly, moving towards her. But the second he took a step in her direction, she took one back. He froze, instant fear beginning to set into his chest.

Something was really wrong.

Y/n wasn’t acting like herself at all. She felt her chest beginning to close in as she tried to think about what she was going to say. Don’t think, Y/n.

Don’t think.

Just do.

“I… I’m not going to fight on your side anymore,” she murmured, her voice croaky and hoarse. Her friends's eyes widened in shock. “I’m joining Robotnik’s side.”

Thunder snarled in the sky above as Sonic’s eyes flashed an electric blue. Y/n’s body began to hum on its own, and Spirit, Tails, and Knuckles took a small step back as they watched the scene unfold. What on earth was happening right now? Y/n had to be joking right? The girl that had once been so full of optimism and fire was now replaced with nothing but a trembling shell of who she used to be. It was hard for any of them to even recognize her.

“W-What do you mean you’re switching?” Spirit stuttered, running a hand through her hair in anxiety.

“You can’t join Robotnik!” Tails cried out, tears beginning to prickle. “You.. You can’t!” 

“Y/n, what’s going on?” Sonic asked, trying once again to take a step towards her. In turn, she simply took one staggering back. As their feet touched the ground, little sparks of electricity burned in the dirt. “This isn’t you. I thought we were in this together.”

He could practically feel his heart breaking in his chest as he watched the girl he loved walk away from him. No, this wasn’t real. This had to be a dream. He was going to wake up any second now with Y/n in his arms, and they were going to have another great escapade together before they defeated Robotnik. 

They were Y/n and Sonic.

Bonnie and Clyde.

She was his home. And… if his home left him… 

Y/n’s gaze slowly raised to meet Sonic’s emerald eyes, and he almost had a panic attack when he saw the look in them. All signs of emotion were gone. Her eyes were dead. 

“We’re done, Sonic.”

His heart stopped. No. No, he hadn’t heard her right. She had said something else. She had to have said something else. He refused to believe it. “What?” 

Y/n’s gaze fell onto the floor, and for the first time since she had come back, she looked like she was going to cry. A small sliver of hope filled his chest. Maybe this was all just a prank, maybe this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. 

“Look me in the eyes and say that again.” He said slowly, refusing to look away from her for a second. Every fiber of Y/n’s being was screaming at her to take it all back, to tell him that she loved him and that she would never let him go. 

Don’t think.

Don’t think. Just do.

“We’re done, Sonic,” She looked him straight in the eyes as the words left her mouth. But she knew that just those words wouldn’t be enough. She had to say more if she was going to protect him. “I… I never truly loved you.” 

Bolts of electricity went up and down Sonic’s quills as he shook his head, not understanding what was going on here. “W-what? You… you don’t love me?” 

Y/n swallowed her tears, even as her body began to glow a luminescent blue. Their abilities were betraying each other. “I don’t love you. I never did. You’re too risky. You’re always trying to put me before yourself and I don’t- I, I can’t-” 

No. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this, what was she think-

“There is nothing that I wouldn’t do to protect you, Y/n,” Sonic interrupted her thoughts, and as she looked back up at him, she was shocked to see tears beginning to drip down his face. She was breaking him. “I love you, Y/n.”

“No…” She slowly shook her head, tears beginning to fall out of her own eyes as she took a few shaky steps away from him. No, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Rain began to drip down from the sky as Spirit, Knuckles, and Tails watched helplessly from the sidelines, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go - Sonic wasn’t supposed to tell her that he loved her! No, how was she supposed to do this now? 

“I love you,” Sonic repeated, taking another step towards her and she was quick to take one back. But as their emotions began to grow, so did the storm. Flurs of electricity began to move through their bodies and up into the air, startling the winds and making them angrier. More sad, more desperate, more anguished. 

They were breaking.

Wind began to ruffle their fur as the other three tried to take cover underneath a tree, and their tears began to stream down faster.

“I love you! You know I do, and I know you love me too!” Sonic screamed as the thunder boomed through the sky. Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, and she felt her powers pulsing against her skin as her eyes suddenly turned a blinding white. 

“No!” She screamed, and Sonic’s eyes widened in horror. Y/n threw her arms up into the air and slammed them back down against her sides. “Stop it!”

The rain froze.

Little droplets of water hung, frozen in the air. Even the thunder had ceased, the sky obeying Y/n’s command. The earth had turned silent, and the only sound to be heard was Y/n’s panicked breaths as she stared at nothing, her eyes still a blinding white. Sonic’s mouth dropped open as he stared in amazement at the particles. Y/n… Y/n had stopped the rain with her telekinesis. She had never done something like this before. 

He turned back to his girlfriend, fear and worry beginning to take over, but the second he raised his arm in her direction, she broke out of it and her eyes returned to normal. The rain resumed, soaking their fur all over again. 

“Y-Y/n-”

“Don’t,” She shook her head sadly at him, her e/c orbs filled with an emotion he couldn’t understand. No, this couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening right now. “Goodbye, Sonic.”

And just like that, she was gone.

As Y/n walked away, only then did the tears begin to fall. 

I have to let you go.

♡ a.a.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

The Dancer-Chapter One

Also on AO3             A special thanks to @ Statell for all your help

Chapter One

Claire spun on the balls of her bare feet, over and over, feeling the veils slide across her sweaty face. Breathing rhythmically to avoid panting so her stomach remained quiet and smooth. She powered through the remaining spins to the gasps of the students watching. Coming out of her spins her body slowed to a half-beat. Pulling the veil up to her face, she looked at the students with an invitation for sultry romance making every female uncomfortable. Claire’s hips twitched independently to the music as she entered the last part of the dance. Body undulating, chest pressing against the skimpy fabric covering her nipples. Ten spins with the veils trailing around her and she dropped to the ground and stopped.

 The class of women cheered for her and Claire stood to bow. She ran to the backroom to wipe the stinging sweat out of her eyes before dropping eyewash in each. The instructor gave a hug from behind and congratulated her on her performance.

 “That was absolutely wonderful Claire! It is so impressive what you have learned! I am very confident in recommending you to one of my clients if you are ready.”

 Claire stared at the woman with wide eyes. This is unexpected, she thought, it must be too soon for an actual job belly dancing. She looked dubiously at the instructor.

 “You are ready darling. Think about it and let me know. One of the clients has an opening three nights a week. It’s a good place to start if you want it.” She hugged Claire again and left her to dress.

 Piling the veils and costume into her bag, Claire emerged from the studio with a clean washed face, beige pantsuit, and sensible shoes. She was late returning from lunch due to her final performance and her head was getting crowded with rival emotions. Exhilaration that she finally finished the last level offered by the studio and sadness she was leaving after six years.

 Claire unlocked the door to her book store and ran inside. It was a character flaw to be late to work and she would chastise herself for the rest of the afternoon. She smiled at incoming customers taking a double-take at the man behind them.

 He had been to the shop twice before. He was handsome and tall, hard not to notice. He had asked her for a novel, newly added to the New York Times bestseller list. She apologized and offered to order it for him. There just wasn’t room to stock every bestseller in her little shop and she wasn’t likely to displace her lovely antique collections for the latest steamy, here today, gone tomorrow, fiction. He approached the front register.

 “I ordered a book last week,” he said smiling. Has it come in yet? My name is Jamie Fraser.”

 She let her gaze fall on the most incredible blue eyes that held his smile with a tinge of mischief. His order was already there but Claire turned too quickly knocking over a display of cards next to the register. A very unladylike sound came out of her as she bent to pick them all up. Piling them on the counter she ran to the back for the man’s order.

 Claire could feel her humiliation spread across her cheeks as she took a deep breath.

 “Jesus H Roosevelt Christ,” was uttered under her breath. Why did she always lose it when a good-looking man talked to her. She felt hopelessly unnerved by him and tried to steady her mind.

 “Sorry about the mess I just caused.”

 The man had put the cards back into the display and smiled at his accomplishment. Claire felt the shaking that started in her calves, slowly work its way up and lunged for the register before she was quaking with anxiety. Handing the bag to the man she tried to smile and thanked him for the help. She turned and walked quickly to the back room before he could ask her for anything else.

 Hearing the bell on the shop door, she exhaled a long-held breath and felt her tension ease immediately. Maybe her doctor was right about therapy. She hated the idea but life was getting intolerable for her, except when she danced. Claire checked the tiny mirror on the wall and went back to cleaning shelves.

 The following week she met with the owner of a Greek restaurant who was looking for a belly dancer to entertain customers while they dined. He looked at her beige clothing and pinned up hair and she could see the doubt in his eyes.

 “You come highly recommended by the studio and I don’t want to hurt feelings, but I can’t see a good fit here.”

 Claire stood up straight and looked him in the eye before responding.

 “I look different when I dance.”

 She nervously pushed her hair behind her ears and tried to smile.

 “Okay. Let’s give the pretty girl a chance,” he said. “You dance at noon tomorrow and I will watch. Then we talk some more, okay?”

 Claire shook his hand gratefully and smiled her thanks before running out of the restaurant. She was thrilled to have the chance to dance in front of people and started thinking about which costume to wear as she reached for her phone.

 “Geillis! I have an audition tomorrow at the new Greek restaurant, to dance!”

 Geillis was her bestie and had Claire’s best interest at heart. She hadn’t seen her dance because the studio didn’t allow the public to watch the classes. She was doubtful her friend could muster the sex appeal to arouse anyone under eighty years old, but she pushed herself to be excited and encouraging.

 “Well, look at you, a professional dancer now! Need any help getting ready? I can bring dinner in a bucket tonight.”

 “Yes! Please do. I have a new costume I want to wear, and the skirt is too long. You can help me cut it. It won’t take any time at all. You are a lifesaver Geillis.”

 In Geillis’s mind, she saw a floor-length prairie skirt the pilgrims sported and wondered if this was a good idea. She saw Claire’s belly dancing as a misguided attempt to break out of her frumpiness. An avenue to a more exciting life as seen in a movie perhaps. Geillis rolled her eyes at the doomed evening ahead.

 Claire pushed away from the table. “Oh my God, I am probably too stuffed with chicken to fit into my costume Geillis, but it sure was tasty.” Claire stood to remove the paper plates and bucket.

 “Get yer costume on and let’s get this over with, aye?”

 Claire was too excited to catch the tone of her friend's sentence and ran to the bedroom pulling on a bright blue skirt and attached pantie with three layers of transparent silk. She pulled the hip scarf around her with three lines of metal charms making the most beautiful sound when bumping into each other. Next was the bra top that fit tightly, hugging her skin right below her breasts. It too was adorned with metal baubles. Claire held the skirt up as she walked into the living room and to her gaping friend.

 “What’s wrong with you Geillis.”

 Geillis stared at Claire’s stomach and the panties that were dangerously low and v-shaped showing her long torso, taught, sinewy, and devoid of fat. When she walked, her thighs would peek out from the veils in the skirt, muscular, thin, and shapely.

 “Jesus Christ, Claire. I’m lookin at a different person right now. I canna get over ye look so different. It’s remarkable.”

 Claire gave her a shimmy with her shoulders followed by hips twitching making the baubles bounce.

 “I wear a wig and lots of makeup when I dance so I don’t look like this at all. When we finish the skirt, I have to practice and make sure the length is right. I’ll show you some moves if you like.”

 The two women talked about the skirt length and Geillis pinned the front panel allowing Claire to take it off. Geillis was shocked at the change in her friend when she put on that costume. Like doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde she thought and giggled to herself. Geillis decided she would risk the wrath of her employer to see Claire dance tomorrow and had no idea what to expect.

 When the two women first met, Claire was already a student of belly dancing and it was mentioned in passing on several occasions, like a hobby. Geillis was instantly taken with Claire, her nerdy personality was endearing, not to mention ego-boosting because Geillis had no social awkwardness. Taking Claire under her wing, they became best friends. No amount of encouragement and exposure to the Edinburgh social scene seemed to make any difference in Claire. Geillis was defeated at trying to change her friend and gave up, to just enjoy Claire as she was. Tonight showed Claire in stark contrast to the mousy bookseller.

 “There, that’s the last panel. Go put in on, with… all the rest of the costume. I think ye promised me a sample dance.”

 Claire dashed back to her bedroom. This time she wore the wig and her black curls tumbled to her waist. She called to Geillis to turn out all but one side table lamp and push play on her recorder.

 Claire pressed her back into the door jam and raised her arms above her head crossing her wrists like she was tied up. Her fabulous abs undulated and she pushed away from the door twirling in circles with the layers of her skirt flying around her. She shimmied into body rolls followed by numerous spins, her hips bounced to the music and Geiliis was transfixed. Claire could move her body like she had never seen.

 Later, Claire said goodbye to Geillis, who was clearly impressed and dropped into bed. It was ten-thirty, a half-hour past her bedtime, and she fell asleep totally pissed off with herself.

 The next morning, she shoved her costume into a gym bag and turned the front door key of the bookshop at exactly eight o’clock sharp. The day was looking promising and Claire could not wait until noon when she would dance for her new job.

 Across town, Jamie Fraser sat at the head of a long conference table where the board was meeting for a final review of their shared endeavor. Each person had a report in front of them and asked Jamie questions about the owner of the local bookstore.

 “Dinna fash, she is mostly antique books and collections. Not likely to clash with our inventory. I have visited three times and she doesna even stock the best sellers. No threat to us gentlemen.

 Claire entered the restaurant from a back door that led right into the dressing room. She hung her costume and started getting ready. The eyelashes were a challenge with her shaking hands, but they eventually found purchase just above her own lashes.

 The doubtful owner knocked and entered, looking for her. He regretted offering this audition. His restaurant was too new to bear up to ridicule and he wanted to back out any way possible. When his eyes landed on Claire, he was relieved. Apparently, the studio sent another student for him, and this one definitely looked the part.

 “Hello pretty lady, I am Omar, this is my restaurant.”

 Claire looked at him thinking he must be daft since they met yesterday. She smiled and approached him.

 “We met yesterday sir and you offered me a test dance, I think you called it.”

 “We did? Oh! Is that you in there? Pardon me for being an old man with a terrible memory. You look very different.”

 “Are we still on for a dance then?”

 “Yes, yes. Are you ready my dear?”

 The diners did not notice that a woman stood in the dark doorway of a room adjoining the dining room until a spotlight lit her up, bouncing off the metal charms at her breast and hips. The music started and Claire treated the diners to her amazing hips that bounced independently of each other and hard lifts that made the baubles dance. Her performance was ten minutes long and many forks were suspended in the air as the diners watched her, paralyzed.

 As Claire twirled around the room, she caught sight of Geillis at a corner table. She danced to her and smiled as her veils floated behind her. Returning to the center of the room she popped her chest and twitched her hips until everyone was dizzy from watching. She dropped into a bow and ran to the dressing room hearing applause and whistles. Grabbing a towel out of her gym bag she sat down to breathe before she passed out.

 The owner came bursting into the room with a happy smile. He could not stop singing her praise and offered her three nights a week, two dances thirty minutes apart for one hundred dollars a night. He stuck out his hand to shake on the deal and she took it.

 “You are a chameleon, like, like, a phone booth to change your clothes and then you can fly!”

 It took Claire a minute or two to understand the reference to superman and she laughed and shook her head. Once alone, Claire pulled the lashes off her eyelids and wiped off the red lipstick. She looked into the mirror and saw Geillis behind her.

 “Well, what did you think?”

 “Claire, you know I adore ye, but yer the luckiest little shit on the planet. Did ye see how many gorgeous men were watchin ye? Shakin yer moneymaker like that I can see ye married and livin in grand style before long.” She smiled at Claire like this was a good thing.

 “I didn’t spend six years of my life learning to dance so I could find someone to marry. Get back to work before you get fired, and Geillis, thank you for coming.”

 Claire was stacking orders under the front register and popped up when she heard the doorbell tinkling. The shaking started immediately as the handsome man approached her smiling. He stuck out his hand.

 “It is time we met formally, my name is James Fraser.”

 Claire mumbled her name as she shook his hand, wishing she could look into his eyes for the rest of the afternoon.

 Jamie looked around the shop, “I have been here a few times. Not spying, just gathering information about our competition.” He was clearly nervous and licked his lips several times looking at the floor. “Listen, Miss Beauchamp, I have to tell ye I am opening a new concept bookstore right down the street. My hope is we will both prosper by referring customers to each other while holding the other in the highest regard.”

 The blood drained from Claire’s face and she pulled her hand away abruptly. She watched Fraser look around like he expected the roof to cave in on him and felt her anger boil up inside her.

 “What customers are you hoping I refer to your new store, mister Fraser?”

 “Well, ye dinna stock the best sellers so ye can send those customers our way. Any interest in antique collections we will send to you,” he smiled like he saw the value in his statement.

 “I don’t stock bestsellers because they are here today and gone tomorrow but the orders for those books are thirty-seven percent of my revenue. If they can walk down the street and buy the book from you how many orders do you think I will get?”

 Claire was getting heated and tried to calm her heart rate. She wanted the decibels of her argument to pierce this wicked man so he would know he was her enemy.

 “Edinburgh doesn’t need another bookstore mister Fraser and I cannot see this store surviving the competition you are suggesting.”

 Fraser looked at her with compassion and then lowered his eyes. He hated this part of the business, delivering the news a death blow was coming. He had done this to countless mom and pop bookstores as his company ate up market share all over Scotland, Ireland, and England. It wasn’t pleasant, but he would emerge from this visit relieved this dreadful task was over while the shop owner was just coming to terms with the bomb he just dropped.

 Jamie oversaw the opening of new stores, so he was accustomed to breaking hearts, both young and old. In the days leading up to this type of meeting he would lose his appetite, pace the floor at night trying to sleep and work up a head of anxiety that could choke out a horse. But he always did it, and when the shop door closed behind him, he was free of guilt and responsibility for ruining a business, breaking a heart, and stealing a livelihood. When that door closed behind him, most people were never thought of again.

 Sometimes he would like the owner so much it was near impossible to deliver the news. Claire Beauchamp was such a person because she was young and pretty with a telling face. Although she didn’t mean to do it, she opened her soul to Jamie on the few occasions he visited her. The right person in your life will set you free, he thought, and you will replace that anxiety with happiness.

 Jamie walked away from Claire’s shop feeling like the biggest asshole in the world and wondered why each step away from her wasn’t helping. C’mon Claire, he thought, dinna wallow in yer grief, get busy findin a new job, somethin that will make ye happy, please lass.

 Claire stood rigid behind the register all afternoon. She made feeble attempts to clean shelves and re-arrange displays, only to return to this catatonic state of staring out the window. Her store was empty most of the time and today that was a blessing. She locked the front door at exactly six o’clock that evening and walked home wondering how long it would take to lose her shop.

 Geillis came that evening with a bottle of whisky and tried to cheer up her friend. As the whisky worked its way through her bloodstream and brain, Mister James Fraser became public enemy number one. She cursed him over and over and prayed for the day she would hold his fate in her hands.

 As the days became weeks, Claire wrote countless letters to Fraser, begging him to reconsider. They were all answered the same, a bouquet of flowers with a note that said: “I’m sorry.”

 As Claire’s business plummeted, she found relief and escape in her dancing. She gave in to the joyful release and the patrons who watched her loved it. Omar was so thrilled with her performance he quickly moved her into the top spot, six to seven o’clock, the dinner rush, five nights per week. She was often called to do special performances during lunch and her growing bank account could not be overlooked.

 Jamie kept an eye on Claire’s bookstore with growing concern. She should have started her going-out-of-business sale by now. He wondered where the money was coming from to keep the lights on. When her shop stayed open for the third month, Jamie took matters into his own hands and contacted her landlord. The man sang Claire’s praises and could not say enough about her dedication to the community through reading programs for kids and book clubs for the classics. Jamie felt like shit hearing this and cleared his throat to stop the extolment before it crippled him.

 When the man learned he was speaking to the bastard that stole her business he slammed the phone down almost breaking Jamie’s eardrum. The landlord heard enough to know Claire was in financial trouble. She was using what money she had saved over the years to keep the shop open. It was a doomed cause and the landlord was heartsick for her. Being a compassionate man, he refused to renew Claire’s lease citing structural issues with the buildings that were forcing him to sell.

 When the Store-Wide sale sign went up, Jamie Fraser exhaled in relief. Maybe now he could move on with his life and start feeling like a winner again. It was time to break the spell on the Edinburgh store and throw a party for the executives and top earners. If it were possible for a building to be depressed it would explain the overall lack of joy he felt every minute he was at work. It would explain their first-quarter earnings, it would explain the lack of motivation in his staff. Something better change and he felt like it started with him.

 Claire was despondent when the store closed. She lingered inside the last night saying goodbye to the authors and classic collections she had cared for and sold for many years. Geillis pulled her home and helped her get ready for her show that night. They didn’t talk much, Claire didn’t have it in her.

 “Are ye wearin the new black outfit with the silver veils tonight?”

 “Yes, the restaurant is hosting a big party tonight. Tips should be pretty good from what I hear.”

 She tried to smile and reassure Geillis she was fine, but her hollow eyes told a different story. Geillis remained upbeat and stayed to help her dress for the big performance.

 “Jesus, Claire! You dinna have to move yer hips or anything else with that costume on. How do ye keep the panties on when they ride so low? Looks like they are gonna fall off any minute!”

 “Glue and they are not called panties Geillis, they’re called pants. The bra top was adorned with crystals that reflected light when she moved and the silver adornments on her hip scarf bounced in a crazy way. Claire was warming up while two other dancers went before her. She peeked out to gauge the crowd and when she got to the end of a long table, she uttered a strangled sound and ran from the door.

 “Holy shit, Geillis, I can’t go out there, I can’t!”

 “Why not, ye look great?”

 Claire was clearly in a panic, pacing the room and holding her head. What the hell was he doing here? How could she stay hidden from him?”

 “Geillis! That asshole Jamie Fraser is out there, and I can’t let him see me. Run to my house and bring back the silver headpiece that wraps around my face. Go! Hurry and I owe you my life!”

 Right on cue, Claire emerged from the dark dressing room door and joined the other dancers in a sultry threesome that ended with Claire alone in the middle of the room. She lifted her covered face and moved her arms like she was beckoning the guests at the table. she danced close to the diners stopping along the way to do mesmerizing hip lifts, drops, and shimmies. When she got to Jamie, she moved her sinewy body with undulations, rapid hip lifts and turns.

 Jamie could not look away from the dancer in front of him, one foot in front of him. Her body movements stole his sanity as she dropped her upper body backward until her head was inches from his shoulder. She gave him the full measure of her talent, before popping up to complete her dance. When she stopped with the music, she took a bow and waited an agonizing thirty seconds of silence before the table erupted with applause and whistles. Several people were on their feet, including James Fraser. Some of the men begged to see her face as she ran to the darkness of the dressing room door.

 Bursting through the door into the dressing room she grabbed a towel and covered her face with it. Geillis looked at her in horror wondering what she could say to help. Claire’s body convulsed into the towel held firm against her face. She sank to her knees and Geillis ran to help her up. Claire’s arms gently pushed her away and the towel was lowered as she continued to laugh, out of control, like a woman possessed, she laughed.

 Claire could hardly breathe, and she clawed at the headdress that was blocking the quantities of air she needed. She finally ripped it, and the wig off throwing them on the couch while she wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to stem the laughing.

 “Oh! Oh my God, Geillis. I’ve never had so much fun. That dizzy bastard had a log in his pants and didn’t breathe the whole time I was in front of him. Too bad he didn’t just die right then and there!”

 Geillis was quite unsettled with Claire’s level of hatred toward this man and thought Claire needed a new perspective before she lost her mind.

 “Claire, it’s not healthy to hate someone that much, ye will never be able to quench yer need for revenge. I think ye need some help with this, truly. C’mon, let’s get you ready for the next show, then home to bed.”

 When the spotlight hit Claire for her next dance, she was in bright pink harem pants and a bra top that was covered in baubles. She lifted her arms above her head and spun in circles while she shimmied her hips. When she saw Jamie Fraser sitting at a corner table she moved her arms, pulling him to her, enticing him to take her, as her athletic body promised a once in a lifetime experience of pleasure and carnal love. He watched every move, he heard what the dance promised him. He thought she was beautiful, exotic, and embodied the sexual experience. Claire wore the headdress again that wrapped around her face showing only her eyes. She used them against Jamie like weapons. When the music stopped, she turned her back on him and bowed to the other patrons, shunning him like he wasn’t there.

 Jamie raised his arm to the owner and handed over his business card and a one-hundred-dollar bill on which he had written his number. He was finding it hard to breathe suddenly and left quickly.

 Claire was giggling at the tips and cards that came in from the owner. She estimated two- hundred dollars in tips tonight plus her pay. Three hundred dollars for thirty minutes of dancing. A month ago it was all she had for the month and that included groceries.

 Geillis walked out of the building with a scrubbed Claire in a baseball cap, looking like a bookworm again. The women talked and joked, poking each other with elbows and laughing hysterically. They both carried garment bags and gym bags with all of Claire’s costumes and props. They embraced and separated, neither aware of the eyes that watched the door. Engines were started and the women drove away, leaving Jamie well hidden in the shadows of the parking lot.

 He watched closely as patrons emptied out of the restaurant. Where was she, he wondered? He recognized the owner come out as a car pulled right up to the door. Jamie saw two women rush into the back seat, the owner in front, and then they were gone. The restaurant was closed for the night. Jamie concluded the dancer was the owner’s daughter, so he had a bit more information about the woman who stole his soul tonight. The fact he was now stalking her was completely lost on him.

 Ordinarily, Jamie Fraser was a gentleman with a strict moral code and impeccable manners. The upbringing from his parents and his Hollywood handsome looks made women trust him and forget their own name when he charmed them. The dancer would fall, straight into his lap, no matter who her father was. Of that he was sure.

[cherryamoureuse]

paper rings | peter parker (soulmate au)

     Tomorrow was your seventeenth birthday. You were finally going to be linked to your soulmate. Everyone’s connection was different. Some saw specific colors, others shared emotions. Your parents had been the latter. The bond does not show itself until both soulmates are seventeen. You will admit that your heart was yearning and hoping that it would be one specific person. Peter Parker. You were in the same chemistry class as the honey-eyed brunette. The pair of you have never exchanged more than a few words to each other in the two years that you had been classmates, much to your dismay. From the second that you had laid your eyes on him freshman year, you had been his. Today, walking into school had been anxiety ridden for you. While on the train to school, your head was taken up with the thought of soulmates. 

Would your infatuation with Peter suddenly disappear? What if it didn’t? Wouldn’t your soulmate eventually find out your affection was so focused on someone else? What if Peter was your soulmate? 

No, that is just wishful thinking on your part. Walking up the stone steps, you reached the entrance of Midtown High. As cliche as it sounds, you felt your heart skip a few beats as you walked through the double doors. Peter was standing by his locker, shifting through stacks of paper, with a pen loosely hanging between his lips. Feeling your stare, he looked up and gave you a lopsided smile that wrapped your heart in warmth. Quickly, your eyes flutter towards the grounds as you feel your cheeks heat up at being caught. Walking past him, you flash him a smile as you go to find MJ, who would surely be waiting for you by your locker. You greet her with a flustered smile and she eyes you suspiciously. 

“What’s up with you? Your cheeks are the color of strawberries.” She lifts a finger and pokes at your left cheek. 

“It’s nothing.” You assure her as you hide your face behind your locker door. 

“Mhm, this wouldn't have anything to do with a certain nerd named Peter Parker, now would it? She says with a smirk lighting up her features. “You know, if you just talked to him you could already be his girlfriend.” 

“As if, MJ.” You scoff at her. You and Peter are barely acquaintances at this point in time. He would smile at you when you make eye contact and make small talk at the science tables, but that was the extent of it. You were his chemistry seat partner, that’s all.  

“What do you mean? Never forget that you’re the one that’s out of his league.” 

“Sure,” You sigh. MJ had always seen the best in people, even if she was a tad guarded. “Tomorrow is my birthday anyways. I’m gonna find my soulmate.” You do smile a little at the thought. It is important to be independent, but it would be nice to find a forever with someone. 

The two of you walk to English and take your seats.

     The day passes by, and you are finally on your way home. Your apartment was empty, there was a note on the counter from your parents saying they wouldn’t be home for dinner and that there was money on the table for pizza. They were rarely ever home, due to their busy work schedules, but you were used to it. Kicking off your shoes, you make your way to your bedroom to start your homework. As the time goes by, you try not to stress about your soulmate situation. The closer it got to 12, the more anxious you became. Finally, the moment had come as your clock switched from pm to am. You let out a breath and waited. Nothing happened. You didn’t feel any different. Furrowing your brows, you go to the mirror to search for some marking, which was the most common form of soulmate matching. There was nothing to be found. You sat on your bed hoping to feel anything from your soulmate’s end. All you could feel and hear was silence. Maybe your soulmate hadn’t turned seventeen yet. Then a terrible thought had occurred to you. What if you had no soulmate? It was rare but there had been a few cases of people who had no bond. You were reaching all kinds of scenarios in your head when you heard your parents walk through the front door. You rush under the covers and pretend to be asleep, so they don’t ask you questions that would make you cry in your fragile state. You hear the door open and hushed whispers are shared, before it is closed once again. Falling asleep, you try not to focus on the worst case scenarios.  

     You are woken up by a loud voice. Startled, you glance over at your clock to see that it is 3am. There are two voices speaking about salicylic acid? Confusion and alarm are at the forefront of your emotions. There was no radio on, yet the voices continue to converse about science. Opening your window, you stick your head out and try to find the source, but the voices seemed to be directly in your head. An epiphany strikes you. It has to be your soulmate bond. A smile lights up your features as you finally understand. It was a rare connection to have. Music. You and your soulmate could hear whatever music- or in your case, podcast- the other was listening to. An excited giggle forces it way out of your throat as you listen to scientific procedures. Why your soulmate would be up at 3am and listening to a science podcast was beyond you, but you were relieved to know that you were not without a soulmate. You thought about putting on your own music to let them know that you were there, but you didn’t want to disturb your other half. Your eyelids grow heavy and you are once again drifting back to sleep with thoughts of the periodic table. 

     Waking up at 6 am on a Saturday with just 4 hours of sleep under your belt was not difficult to do when you were excited for the prospect of hearing whatever your soulmate heard. There had been no new sounds in your mind since this morning, but you knew that if you began listening to a song, they would hear it and be as surprised as you had been. You had spent the morning racking your brain for the perfect song to play your soulmate. Nothing too heavy, you wanted a soft introduction. Searching your Spotify playlist, you found the perfect song. Holding your breath, you press play on Taylor Swift’s Invisible String. The intro starts and you wait. The song plays and finishes without interruption. You don’t play anything, hoping for some sort of response. Your heart is beating out of your chest as the same opening intro is played back before stopping. It worked, they had heard you! Excitement coursed through your veins. Freaking out, you look for another song to play for your soulmate. After half an hour, there had been no response. You were disappointed, but you brushed it off as your soulmate just getting busy. Around 8, you decided to take a quick shower. Normally, you would be playing music and singing in the shower, but you didn’t want to bother or annoy your soulmate. The silence was awkward for you. Brushing your hair, you decided to throw caution to the wind and play your everyday playlist. The soft sound of Clairo’s Bags fills the room. You keep the volume low as you hum and sing along. Then, Paper Rings starts playing and you can’t help but turn it up a little and sing into your hairbrush. You finish your nightly routine and head to bed. The weekend went by with no sounds on your soulmate’s end. It was frustrating to say the least, but you tried not to get worked up about it. Lover had been your album of choice for the weekend. Paper Rings had been on repeat for almost 2 days straight. You couldn’t help it. The song just elevated your mood. And with the mountain of assignments you had to do, you needed the boost. You popped your headphones in and started your walk to school. Taylor Swift accompanies you through your subway stops. Walking through the doors, your eyes immediately go to Peter’s locker. He’s standing and talking to Ned. He looks up when you enter and waves at you. You take out your headphones and pause your music to wave back at him. His hand stops its movement as soon as you begin waving back. He seems to be frozen in place as his mouth parts in disbelief. You drop your hand and your smile, thinking that you had done something wrong and cringe internally. Wrapping up your headphones, you walk past Peter, whose eyes are following you. His expression stays the same. Turning the corner, you run to MJ, telling her about your soulmate and your bizarre interaction with Peter. 

“Wait,” she interrupts your rambling about how Peter reacted to your wave. “You waved at Peter? That’s so unlike you. Maybe that’s why he freaked.” 

Thinking about it, Peter doesn’t usually wave at you when you walk in. Normally the two of you would exchange only a smile in the mornings. 

     Sliding into your seat in Chemistry, your leg bounces as you psych yourself up to talk to Peter. You wanted to get past the shy responses you always gave him. Having a soulmate had built up your confidence and you were ready to try and be Peter’s friend. You catch his eyes as he walks through the door frame and into the classroom. Your heart flutters, but you will the feeling away. You had a soulmate out there and it was not Peter Parker. This time it is him who averts his gaze and blushes. He walks down the aisle to his normal seat next to you. For some reason, you are hyper aware of his proximity today and you want nothing more than to melt into his side. You shake the thought from your head. What is up with you today? You turn to him. 

“Hi, Peter.” Your voice sounds small amongst the loudness of the room, but his head perks up to look at you. 

“Hi, Y/N. Wow, you’ve never been the one to talk first.” He laughs, but stops as he sees your face fall. You hadn’t wanted to seem standoffish, you were just painfully shy around him.

“I’m sorry, I-I” You blush a scarlet red as you stumble over your words.

“N-No, don’t apologize. It was just surprising. I’m glad you’re talking to me,” He assures you with a gentle, close-lipped smile and a hand on your arm. Warmth spreads around the area where his palm meets your cardigan. You could sigh at the feeling. “Happy Birthday, by the way. Big seventeen.” He rubs his neck. 

“Yeah, thank you. I didn’t know you knew about my birthday.”

“MJ told me.” You nod at his rushed explanation and a comfortable silence washes over. Peter breaks it by asking you a question. “Sorry if it’s personal, but did you find out what your soulmate bond was? Y-you don’t have to answer, I’m just curious.” 

Before you could answer, the teacher began explaining the assignment for today. You and Peter finished the paper just as the bell rang, signalling the end of the class period. Peter offers to walk with you to your locker. You nod in acceptance. You break the silence once you reach your locker.  

“Um I did get my soulmate bond by the way, it’s bizarre. Mine is a music connection, but my soulmate has only listened to one science podcast so far. It was at 3 in the morning too.” You laugh and look over to see Peter looking at you with the same expression from this morning. You see him duck down to pull his phone out of his backpack and frantically untangle his headphones. 

His movements were startling and you reached a hand out to his shoulder. “Are you okay, Peter?” 

He doesn’t respond. His tongue pokes out of the side of his mouth, as he concentrates on his task. He finally untangles the knots and plugs in the wire, with the headphones situated in his ear. He taps away at the screen. All of a sudden, you hear the all too familiar opening of Paper Rings, your song of choice this past weekend. You gasp as Peter looks up at you and turns his phone around showing you the cover art to none other than Taylor Swift’s Lover album. You reach down and pause the song. Silence falls between the two of you as you try and process what had just happened. 

“Y-You.. You’re m-my soulmate?” You know you must look insane, but there is so much happening in your mind that it’s a miracle you can even form the words. 

Peter watches you carefully as he stands up. “Y-yeah, I mean, I had a suspicion from the weekend and this morning, but yeah. I h-hoped it was you.” He admits shyly. 

Your heart could burst. Here was Peter Parker, the boy you had been hoping was your soulmate, admitting that he had hoped the same thing.  Here was Peter Parker, your soulmate. Before you can even process the words, they are coming out of your mouth in quick succession, “Can I kiss you?” 

He seems a bit startled but recovers and gives a small nod. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck and delicately press your lips to his. He is hesitant at first, but soon leans into the kiss and places his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You pull away from lack of air, but press your foreheads together. Peter laughs. 

You look up at him and smile. “What?”

“You really like Taylor Swift, don’t you? I’m tired of hearing that song bouncing around in my head. I don’t know how someone could listen to the same song for so long.” 

“Shut up. You didn’t even listen to any music at all.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you. Plus, you listen to enough music for the both of us.”

He leans down again to place another kiss on your lips. His arms are still wrapped tightly around you. You were perfectly happy to stay in his embrace forever. Thanking the heaven’s for whoever was responsible for making him the perfect match for you, you kiss him back. 

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

darling, you're the one I want

In paper rings in picture frames in all my dreams

You're the one I want

[ashfountainfanfics]

Eddie is released before Richie wakes up. The cop that took over in the morning didn’t say anything about Eddie and Richie sharing a bed for the night but Eddie could tell it made him uncomfortable. He looked a bit younger than Eddie and acted like discharging him was some awkward task to deal with. He never even looked Eddie in the eye.

This town doesn’t really change, does it? Eddie thinks as he starts the long walk back to the small inn he and the other Losers have taken temporary residence in.

Eddie was shocked that Richie didn’t even so much as stir when he left. He’s an incredibly heavy sleeper but he also cuddles like a fucking octopus. Eddie had to untangle a mess of long arms and legs to free himself. Richie’s entire body had been grappled onto every part of Eddie. For a minute Eddie thought he might need the jaws of life to get out.

The morning weather is cold but Derry always feels cold. Unless you happened to catch it in the full swing of summer, Derry is essentially an icebox disguised as a small town. Eddie zips up his hoodie and shoves his hands in his pockets.

‘You’ll catch a cold, Eddie! You need a sweater and some thick socks!’

The echo of his mother’s voice makes his stomach surge. Eddie knows damn well that a chill breeze cannot possibly give him a cold but he can’t help the anxiety that rises from the thought. She used to say other nonsensical shit too like a cold can kill a man if you don’t treat it right away or that being too close to the microwave would give a person cancer.

It didn’t stop at radiation and weather either. Mrs. Kapsbrack had fully decieved her son into a number of lies about sex too. Masturbation makes you blind, having sex can kill you, touch it too much and it’ll fall off; Sonia Kapsbrack had the entire discography of abstinence only rhetoric on loop.

Eddie knows logically that none of these things are true but he knows it now. For two solid decades of his life he had believed his mother. He thought her word was gospel. Even in his twenties, it took time to come around to the truth because, what if the world was wrong and Sonia was right? Could he risk that?

Eddie spitefully unzips his jacket.

By the time Eddie was in his mid thirties he knew better but the paranoia lingers even today. In the time he’d been married to Myra he can count on one hand the amount of times they’ve had sex. Really it comes down to a once a year event and one Eddie never looks forward to. Bless Myra, she really tried sometimes but for the rare occasions of fancy home cooked meals and lingerie Eddie ended up losing his appetite and turning off all the lights. Myra got ten minutes of action annually while Eddie never managed to get off. Myra never was happy with that but Eddie wonders if she’d been happy with anything in their marriage.

Eddie shrugs out of the jacket and doesn’t look back as it slides off into the street.

Eddie might have had options. He may have had several people interested in him at any given moment but he was raised with blinders on and marriage ensured those blinders stayed. Eddie realizes that he never had the awareness, let alone the confidence to pursue anyone except Myra. His mother had led him into near celibacy through his hypochondriac training. If she hadn’t died would Myra have ever been a thing? Or would he still be a virgin even now?

Maybe Eddie could like Richie. Maybe men weren’t off the menu for Eddie Kapsbrack but how is he to know that when even the default of heterosexuality was taught as a dirty and unfortunate? And poor Myra, poor fucking Myra. Eddie’s going to leave her and because of his dead mother who shouldn’t have had anything to do with his marriage but Sonia Kapsbrack is the catalyst for all of it. Everything Eddie is, everything he never chose to become, is because of her.

Eddie takes off his shirt and drops it as he starts running in the cold morning air. The breeze smothers his chest, perks his nipples and sends shivers down his spine. The cold hurts a little but tells him he’s alive.

A memory of his last visit to a therapist surfaces as catches himself on the kissing bridge. He takes a few deep breaths and remembers. It was grief therapy which he was sure made his mother turn in his grave but Myra had suggested it. Sonia may have hated therapists and shrinks but Myra swore by them.

After a single session, the therapist calmly asked if Eddie had ever heard about the term ‘emotional incest.’ After a quick explanation, Eddie chose never to return to therapy ever again. Eddie is horrified and enraged as he stands on the bridge now and lets out a primal scream because Sonia Kapsbrack really did it. She committed emotional incest and Eddie feels the violation of it rack over his body.

‘Eddie, you can’t go out.’

‘Eddie, girls like that carry diseases.’

‘Eddie, don’t get too close, he might have AIDS.’

‘Eddie, you’ll never leave mommy right? You wouldn’t want me to die alone.’

And he had done just that. He stayed with her the entirety that their lives intersected. He even held her hand and watched cancer thin her down to skin and bones until there was nothing left. He never had a choice.

‘Eddie, you have to wear socks even inside. You could get sick.’

Eddie steps out of his shoes and pulls his socks off. He throws them into the barrens with as much force as he can muster. The asphalt under his feet is rough and unforgiving. He smiles and it’s manic and he keeps running.

---

Ben is waking up alone but he remembers not going to bed alone. Very clearly, he recalls Beverly and her soft mouth and her smooth curves. He took her in like she was sacred because to him she always had been. Last night had been spiritual experience because for so long Bev had only been a memory folded in a wallet. In a single night she went from paper to full flesh.

Keeping that yearbook page in his wallet had been like carrying around a religious artifact. So often it boosted the faith he needed to have in himself. It told him with little hearts and an old signature that he was worth looking at, worth helping, worth talking to. It had torn him apart to have thrown it in the fire but he’d burn a million memories if meant holding her.

As quickly as he had bedded her she’s gone though. Ben can still smell her soap on the sheets. It’s not the first time Ben’s woken up to an empty bed. It’s not as if he’s been celibate for the last twenty seven years. But he wasn’t very good at giving reasons for women to stay. It’s like they already knew his heart was somewhere else. Ben should be okay waking up to this familiar scene except...

“...Beverly?” he calls out softly, hoping that maybe she’s just in the bathroom.

There’s no response.

Ben gets himself showered and dressed. He can’t help but wonder if he’d done something wrong. Was having sex going too fast? It’s not like he declared his undying love for her but he supposes that he didn’t really need to. No one keeps a signature in their wallet for almost three decades because they’re just buddies.

Ben walks up to Bev’s door and hears her pacing and yelling. It’s a one sided conversation so Ben presumes she must be on the phone. Through the thin walls he can make out a few phrases and keywords. The words ‘divorce’ and ‘lawyer’ come up quite a bit. Against Ben’s better judgement, he presses his ear to the door to better listen in.

“You can have the business, you can keep the money but you can’t have me. Fuck you.”

Ben startles as it sounds like Bev has thrown her phone against the wall. Ben regrets invading her privacy but feels compelled to comfort her. It sounds like her husband is a real asshole and that the divorce is going to be messy. Ben isn’t sure what words to offer her.

Ben is about to knock on her door but then gets an idea. He makes a beeline to his room and rips a blank page out of the guestbook. He argues with himself the whole journey back to Bev’s door. He insists to himself that this is childish and unnecessary. She’ll think it’s stupid. It won’t help. Ben still sits down though and scribbles out a message.

You okay? - Ben

He gives the door a soft knock and slides the page underneath. A few minutes pass. It feels like the longest two minutes of Ben’s life and his insecurity bombards him. Of course this wouldn’t work. It’s dumb and foolish and Ben should know better. He’s a grown man after all.

The paper returns from under the frame.

No. - Bev

It’s an odd approach but at least it begets an honest answer. Ben uses the door as a writing surface. It’s shocking to think this method is even going anywhere but Ben figures it’s best to continue. At least Bev’s talking. He has a feeling that if he’d gone with the first choice and simply knocked that he wouldn’t have gotten far.

Is there anything I can do for you? Do you want to talk?

He stops signing it at this point. It’s not as if the whole gang is sitting in the hallway passing notes to Bev. This time it takes a lot longer for her to reply. Ben takes in the moulding on the door frame as he waits. Despite many of his designs taking a modern approach he really likes looking at the old stuff. He wonders briefly how he might create designs with modern benefits but a nostalgic look. The note slide out slowly this time.

I’m sorry I left.

Ben appreciates the sentiment but he has a thousand questions to ask about it. If Bev is sorry then why did she do it? Did something happen? Did Ben mess up? Did he hurt her or make her feel unsafe? All of this takes a backseat to the present situation though.

You have a lot on your mind. I want to help. Can I come in?

Ben stands to his feet as he hears the latch on the other side coming undone. Beverly is red faced but composed. She’s in a bathrobe and slippers. By the door he sees the tennis shoes he’d picked up for her yesterday after she’d thrown all her clothes from earlier in the day away. He knows she’s only using them out of necessity but he likes to think that maybe she likes them. He chose a pair that was black and burgundy. He remembered that Bev liked burgundy.

“You’re really nice,” Bev says quietly.

“I don’t try to be,” Ben shrugs and tell himself not to move in and hold her, “I’m just me”

“I know. That’s what I love about you.”

Ben smiles at the word ‘love’. He can’t help it. Bev smiles back and Ben falls in love with her all over again. She’s so much more than beautiful. She’s strong and kind and smart. Ben always secretly regarded her as the real leader of the group. He loves Bill and, yes, they often all followed him but secretly Ben followed Beverly. He’d follow her anywhere if she only asked.

“Ben,” her smile falters, “I’m going through something right now. It’s not easy and I’m trying to figure out who I am. You’re very sweet but I-”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Ben interrupts, already sensing where she’s going.

Ben understands that Bev’s life is complicated right now. He gets that maybe last night had some bad timing. He wants to say this but doesn’t. Something about the look in Bev’s eyes tells him that he doesn’t need to.

“All of this is on your terms,” he continues, “All I’m asking you is please, please, don’t shut me out.”

Bev wraps herself around Ben in a genuine embrace. She doesn’t cry but he can feel the emotions coming off of her in waves. Anger, fear, even sadness sheds from her as he holds her. He absorbs those feelings, welcomes them even, because it doesn’t hurt. Ben’s nose rests on her fiery colored hair as he processes those emotions for her,

“I got you,” he whispers into her hair, “You’re not alone, Bev.”

---

Richie is a free man.

Roger barely needed to work much lawyer magic and like a trooper he rolled right into the station the second he got into town. Grand total it took about an hour for Roger to convince Detective Lopez to let Richie go.

“How’d you get her to listen? I mean I’ve played some tough crowds but this chick was like a concrete wall,” Richie questions his lawyer.

Roger is exhausted and doesn’t answer right away. He seems half asleep at the wheel and it occurs to Richie how much his team cares about him. Even with the decent dollar signs attached to Richie, it’s worth noting that Roger drove through the night just for him. But then Richie’s had the same team since the beginning and they’ve known him since he was an eighteen year old little snot doing standup at open mic.

“It was easy,” Roger answers with a yawn, “I didn’t bullshit her. Made sure she knew it was a waste of resources to go after you.”

Richie definitely senses the emphasis of the word ‘bullshit’ aimed at him. He lets it slide though because he’s so deeply relieved not to be going to court or to jail for that matter. Richie knows damn well that he wouldn’t last a single night in the big house. He’d absolutely piss off the wrong person and either end up dead or somebody’s bitch. Richie doesn’t ever care to find out which.

“You’ll love the bed and breakfast we’re at,” Richie says as he looks out the window of Roger’s car, “and by love I mean hate. It looks like someone’s great aunt threw up upholstery. But it’s a place to sleep right? And once you’re rested you’ll come bail out ol’ Billy boy this afternoon.”

“Yeah, Richie, about that…”

“What?”

Roger looks incredibly guilty as he follows the GPS’s last instruction. He parks on the street and shuts the car off. Richie doesn’t like where this is going.

“Look, kid,” Roger sighs, “I meant it when I said I’d come back for your friend this afternoon but it’s not to get him out. I’m going back to talk out his story and see if I can prove him innocent.”

Richie feels bile rising up his throat. He can’t stand his stomach and the way it refuses to sit with anything terrible. Roger is equal parts apologetic and resigned. His bald head has the smallest bit of sweat on it, his mustache obscures any expression in his lip but his eyes say it all.

“You lied to me,” Richie is furious nonetheless.

“No. No, I never said I was coming back for anything specific. I said I was coming back for him I never said why.”

“Oh fuck you, Roger! A lie by omission is still a lie, you prick!”

“Hey! I got you out didn’t I?” Roger gets defensive now, “And I am going back for the other guy! I don’t have to do that, Richie, but I am. For you.”

Richie absorbs this in and pulls back his anger. Roger pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes the sweat from his forehead. Richie has no reason to doubt the man but air between them still asks for further explanation.

“Detective Lopez doesn’t have much choice except to arrest Bill and send him to court,” Roger explains, “A kid died, Richie. The pressure from his parents alone is enough to force her hand let alone the rest of the community. Who ever heard of a small town brushing off a dead child?”

“You don’t know Derry,” Richie replies sarcastically.

“Maybe you don’t. Maybe the Derry you grew up in and the Derry that exists now are different. Who am I to say? I don’t know and I don’t care much either. My condolences to the deceased and all but I’m certain your buddy didn’t do it. If he’s as good as you say he is I believe you and I’ll help him out.”

“I could hug you right now.”

“Oh, Jesus, spare me the theatrics, Richie.”

“Nope. We’re hugging. Come here.”

Roger makes a show of not reciprocating at first but then relents and pats Richie on the back. In many ways, Roger is like the lawyer uncle Richie never had. He sees him at holidays and when he’s in trouble. Really his whole team is like that, a family.

“I’m going to make a couple of calls before I head in,” Roger says before digging out his cell phone, “I remember a buddy of mine who used to teach had some super student from Maine. Henry Beaver or Reevers or something. Maybe he can give me an idea of what I’m working with in this state.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go ahead and get you set up. Room’s on me.”

“You’re not deducting that from my pay.”

“Fuck you too, Roger.”

Richie leaves his lawyer to his calls. Luckily, the old lady who runs the place is available and manages to get a room together quickly. It’s the last one too. Richie is bouncing from nerves. He has confidence in Roger but he can’t help the nervousness bubbling up inside.

“His name is Roger Clemmings, just give him his key and let him up,” Richie explains, “he’s had a rough night.”

“Of course, dear,” the older woman answers.

Richie hears the front door opening behind him. He spins around, expecting Roger but instead finds Eddie half naked and shoeless. He’s shaking and completely out of breath.

“Eddie?” he rushes over to him out of concern and starts looking him over for injury, “Jesus Christ. What happened? Are you okay?”

“No. Yes. No. Yes and no.”

“Honey, do you need me to call the police?” the innkeeper asks, her hand already on the phone and ready to go.

“No. No. I’m fine. My whole world is falling apart but I’m fine.”

Richie takes off his coat and wraps it around Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie is having a full on mental breakdown and Richie is terrified. He tries to catch Eddie’s eyes with his own but they stare vacantly at nothing. Richie assures the woman behind the counter that he’ll see to Eddie.

Suddenly the door opens again. Roger is pulling in a suitcase and fumbling with a text message. He doesn’t see Richie and his shirtless friend but Richie panics. He grabs Eddie by the arm and pulls him into the nearest door. He crams into the tight space with him and shuts the door behind him all before Roger can see.

“Richie?” Eddie’s voice is close by in the dark.

Richie shushes him harshly. He listens as Roger chats up the older woman. She has the decency not to say anything about Richie’s sudden escape and Richie lets the momentary relief wash over him.

“Richie?” Eddie whispers this time.

“Yeah?”

“We’re in a closet.”

Richie would laugh if it wasn’t so painfully on the nose.

“Why are we in a closet?” Eddie expands.

“Oh, Eds, I wish I could answer that.”

The old woman and Roger are still talking. She’s chatting him up and Richie wants to take back every kind word he thought about her just seconds ago.

“Fuck,” Richie whisper screams, “what part about ‘just let him up’ doesn’t she understand?”

The closet Richie has trapped them in is housing a broom with dust pan and a handful of coats on one side. It smells a bit like mothballs and cinnamon. It’s not the worst place to inadvertently imprison oneself. Richie rests his forehead against the door and groans quietly.

“Richie?” Eddie asks again.

Richie turns toward his voice and instantly regrets his life choices. Because Eddie is so close. He’s too close. There’s maybe half an inch of distance between them. Richie’s insides split in two directions; wanting to get even closer and wanting to run away.

“...Eds” Richie answers finally.

Eddie puts his hands on Richie’s shoulder. Richie feels like that contact is going to cause him to pass out. Eddie’s fingers find the collar of Richie’s button up shirt and gently tug at him, collar and all, closer to Eddie.

“E- Eddie?” Richie’s old habits act up, “I know this is a romantic venue and all but-”

Richie doesn’t have time to diffuse the situation with humor because Eddie kisses him. He kisses him and-

This is fucking weird… Richie thinks.

Eddie’s lips are tightly lined. It feels almost like he’s grimacing. It’s as if he’s not committing to anything more than pressing his lips against Richie’s in the most non intimate way possible. Eddie stiffly ends the kiss and takes a half step back.

“Ah, okay,” Richie doesn’t know how to respond, “that, um, happened.”

“I didn’t feel anything…” Eddie says, sounding a thousand miles away.

“Well maybe if you didn’t kiss like mashing two dolls together!” Richie cries in his own defense,  “Jesus, who taught you to swap spit?”

“I kind of didn’t learn actually.”

Excuse me? Richie thinks as he thanks the dark for hiding his expression.

“I always thought kissing would get you herpes,” Eddie explains quietly, “and by the time I knew better it didn’t matter. I kissed my wife at our wedding but I don’t really. I don’t kiss often.”

This is absolutely horrifying information for someone like Richie who, on more than a few occasions, has referred to himself as a slut.

“Wait, you’re not a- are you a virgin, Eddie?”

“No, asshole!” Eddie says a bit too loudly.

Richie hushes him again. He brings an ear to the door of the closet and listens. He hears the old woman chuckling at something Roger said. He curses under breath. Richie is desperate to get out of this closet, out of this conversation. It’s so painfully awkward.

“Think about it, Richie,” Eddie brings the topic back up, “think about the kind of mom I had. She didn’t want me to roll around in grass what the fuck do you think she told me about taking a- a roll in the hay?”

“You did not just make a Young Frankenstein reference instead of saying the word ‘sex’,” Richie is at his wit’s end.

He might as well be a virgin, Richie thinks, I haven’t had virgin since I was a teenager.

“I’m pretty sure that that phrase is older than Young Frankenstein, just saying,” Eddie points out, “And if you’re  going to make fun of me then you can cancel our date thing. Fuck it. Fuck you”

“No!” Richie whisper yells.

Even after being told point blank that there’s no chemistry and that Eddie has been about as intimate as an artificial insemination, Richie isn’t ready to give up. Sure, it’s a little daunting to be faced with Eddie’s circumstances but who cares? What Richie saw in the final showdown, how he felt when he thought he lost Eddie for good, that means something. Richie can feel that in his goddamn guts.

“You really, really, don’t really know how this works?”

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“I’m seriously asking, Eds.”

Eddie mumbles his answer but Richie can tell it’s a yes. Richie decides to get down from his slutty high horse and really think about Eddie’s position. Richie knows what it’s like to wake up to sexuality. He’d slept with mostly women in his lifetime and he found it passable. It was about as thrilling as jerking off into a sock albeit far more comfortable. But men were a different story. 

Richie has slept with a man before and it threw his entire life out of whack. It was nearly a holy experience and it almost got him out of the closet. Almost. By then he already had an established career as a straight man though and the idea of losing his career wasn’t worth the risk. Not even his team knows about his true proclivities. Which now that Richie thinks about it is entirely the reason he and Eddie are in this closet right now.

Richie can see Eddie in the dark. He can make out those puppy dog eyes looking off to the side in embarrassment. He sees generalized textures in his silhouette and good God does he find him beautiful. He wants to reach his hands under the borrowed jacket hanging off Eddie’s torso and touch everything he can.

You’ll freak him out, Richie stops himself, he can’t even kiss right and you want to grope him. Fucking relax. Shit.

“So I’ll show you what I know,” Richie settles, “as long as you’re feeling it I’ll keep going and if you’re not it’s cool. I mean I’m an asshole but I’m not a total asshole.”

Richie can see Eddie thinking the offer over. Richie’s spare coat moves in the dark in what looks like a shrug.

“Okay. Sure. Fuck it. Why not?”

“Real romantic of you, Eddie spaghetti.”

“Wow. I haven’t heard you call me that since we were kids. Good to know all your material is stagnant.”

Richie chuckles because honestly? That was a solid comeback. Eddie smiles back and chuckles. They both stand there laughing quietly in the dark like kids. Richie isn’t thinking about the fact that they’re stuck in here anymore. He just realizes that he likes Eddie smiling as much as he likes him pouting and annoyed. The moment fizzles out and they’re just staring at each other for a solid minute.

Richie gives Eddie a quick peck on the lips because he can’t take it anymore. He has to give something to him, something better than that sad excuse of a kiss from earlier. Richie pulls back quickly, worried that he may have been too fast. He’s genuinely surprised to have Eddie mimic the maneuver.

Richie isn’t sure if it’s the close quarters of the smell of sweat coming off of Eddie that’s putting him on a high but he goes with it. He leans his body into Eddie’s. Eddie’s back gently hits the back wall but Richie takes care not to dominate the position. He kisses Eddie again, slowly and softly. Eddie repeats the gesture and this is what Richie had been picturing all this time.

Richie licks Eddie’s bottom lip, prompting him and Eddie takes to it like a natural. Eddie’s mouth is a little dry but that’s to be expected since he had physically exerted himself earlier. Richie doesn’t care. He lets his tongue wet Eddie’s and together their kiss moves into something makes the whole closet feel hot and heavy.

Eddie places his hands on Richie’s hips and the contact sends strong signals to his member. Eddie gives a cautious bite to Richie’s lower lip that comes off as seductive, coy even. Richie can’t tell if this is experimental or if Eddie’s really feeling it but right now he doesn’t care. It feels good. Eddie feels good and Richie’s been wanting this for a long time.

“I thought you didn’t know what you’re doing,” Richie swallows hard as they break their kiss.

“Don’t ruin it,” Eddie murmurs and kisses him again.

Light floods into the closet and the older woman squeaks at finding the two men in their compromising position.

“Christ!” Richie shouts and flings himself as far away from Eddie as physically possible.

“Oh! Oh my!” the woman continues to stammer, “No! It’s fine, boys! I’m- I’m hip! My nephew is a homosexual! He and his boyfriend are wonderful people!”

Eddie silently exits the closet and heads upstairs, leaving Richie to the awkwardness alone. Richie doesn’t see this silent escape until it’s too late.

“Well, we’re not exactly boyfriends-” Richie desperately tries to rouse some sort of explanation.

“It’s fine! Really! I prefer people do those sort of things in their rooms but you’re not the first couple I’ve stumbled on in there! No shame, sweetie! No shame!”

Richie seems to put his embarrassment aside as his ear picks up on that last fact.

“Really? Other people have done this?”

“Well,” she retracts a bit, “maybe not in the same manner as you. But I’ve found a couple or two after a stormy night entangled in there. Don’t feel bad.”

She may be the first person ever to directly tell Richie not to be ashamed of what he’s done with another man. Richie really looks at her for the first time; she’s upwards of sixty for sure and dressed like a Stevie Nicks impersonator. She’s not cookie cutter like so much of Derry was and still is. Richie berates himself for making fun of her interior decorating earlier.

“What’s your name again?” he asks her.

“Doris,” she answers slowly, “I’m pretty sure I said that when we met.”

“I had a lot on my mind then and I’m kind of an asshole.”

Doris nods in consideration which makes Richie laugh. He starts to head up the stairs.

“Well Doris, you’re getting an excellent Yelp review after all this.”

“Oh good,” Doris smiles.

Richie can barely contain himself at the top step as he hears Doris mutter to herself:

“The fuck is a yelp?”

[timehealsfanfictionbka]

Time Heals.....Chapter Thirty-Five

Robyn ran her hands down her dress-clad body as she stared in the mirror. How Chris knew her exact size and style she wasn’t gonna question but he did a great job picking out her date night ensemble. She slung her bone straight over her shoulder, the last few inches skimmed the exposed skin of her back. The v-cut of her dress dripped just low enough to expose the tip of the tattoo on her lower back. Her diamond body chain shined in the fluorescent lights of her bedroom as she bent over to put on her new black Louboutins. She had always wanted these shoes but she was not gonna tell Chris that and boost his ego even higher. He had been doing the most in the sweetest way since she agreed for them to finally go on a date. He called her at least once a day, typically after the girls went to sleep, just for them to talk about everything or nothing at all. His divorce finally being final gave him this sense of freeness that she could feel and hear every time they were together.

 She touched up her lipstick in her vanity mirror before smiling with satisfaction. She knew that tonight was a big deal regardless of how much Chris had tried to convince her it wasn’t. She wasn’t saying that if tonight didn’t work out well that she wouldn’t try again but she could concede that her hope in this being the right thing to do would wane. Grabbing her black clutch, she placed in her lipstick, phone charger, keys, and a compact mirror. She had kept her make up simple so there was no need to carrying anything other than that. She glanced over at the clock and reasoned that she had about 15 minutes before Chris would be there. She turned off her bedroom lights as she walked to the door before closing the door behind her. Just as she made it to the bottom of the staircase, her doorbell rang. She frowned as she looked down at her phone for the time. Chris wasn’t supposed to be here yet. The doorbell rang again.

 “I’m coming,” she exclaimed as she dropped her phone and bag on the couch as she ran to open the door. She looked through the peep-hole and saw Chris standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Her face flushed as she smiled. She cleared her throat and opened the door. Chris looked up from his watch and smiled, “hey you.”

“Hey. You’re early.”

“I am? Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I just finished getting ready.”

“Good timing then. Let me see.”

Chris took her hand to gently twirl her around before smirking, “look at my baby mama though.

“You’re so annoying. Acting like you didn’t buy this.”

“Just because I bought doesn’t mean I knew it was gonna look this good on you. Not that I doubted.”

“We gonna have to work on your compliment giving.”

“We can work something else more exciting actually.”

“Like what?”

Chris leaned in and kissed her gently before pulling back just enough for their lips to still touch, “more babies.”

Robyn moved back and tilted her head at him in disbelief, “Babies? Oh no, Sir.”

“Why not? We old enough.”

“We’re old period.”

“We are not. Come on the girls are getting older, you don’t want a little me?”

“I barely can the big you, Boy please.”

“Just shoot me in the heart then.”

Robyn giggled then pinched his cheek, “you’ll survive. So what else we doing tonight?”

“What else do you want to do? I’m open for whatever.”

Robyn pressed her fingertip to her chin as she thought, “I don’t know. I’m imagining we’ll have some free time once the concert is over.”

“That is true. We can just play it by ear. The girls are taken care of so we don’t have to rush home for anything.”

“True as well. That works for me.”

“So you ready to go?”

“Yea. Let me grab my purse then we can go.”

“I’ll get it. Need to put these flowers up too.”

“Oh, I can do that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Almost forgot about them after I saw you turn around in that dress.”

Robyn rolled her eyes, “I’m starting to think you bought this dress for a particular reason.”

“It’s easy to remove.”

“Give me my flowers and move.”

Robyn took the flowers and left towards the kitchen as Chris went to grab her clutch.

“You taking a coat? It may get cold,” Chris called out.

“There’s a black peacoat in the closet underneath the stairs. Can you grab it for me?”

“I got you.”

Chris went to grab her coat then moved to wait by the door for Robyn. She came out the kitchen a few moments later with the flowers in a vase half filled with water. She set the vase in the center of the coffee table.

“Those are really pretty. You must have a good florist,” Robyn remarked as she walked over to Chris.

“Yea, it’s this small shop in the building next to my job. They even make hybrids.”

“Really? That’s awesome. We can get out of there now.”

“After you.”

Chris held open the door and they both walked out. Robyn took a few breaths as Chris followed behind her to his car, her nervousness of earlier setting back in. Here goes everything…

  Chris carefully took Robyn’s hand as she climbed out of his car. Grabbing her coat, he draped it over her shoulders before handing her, her clutch. Robyn smiled at him and he kissed her lips. He brushed his hand across her cheek in reassurance, “you need to relax, Babe. Everything will be fine. We’ll enjoy some music then just let the night take us wherever, ok?”

“Ok.”

Chris entwined their hands together as they left the parking lot and walked to the entrance of the theatre. The attendant scanned Chris’s phone for the digital tickets before allowing them into the building. Robyn looked around at the chandeliers and red carpet in the foyer of the building, “I pass by here all the time and never once thought it would look like this in here. It’s beautiful.”

“It is. My department had an event in the ballroom here. It’s gorgeous.”

“Never took you for the type to pay attention to architecture and interiors.”

“I’m an artist, remember, I notice everything.”

“Really?”

“Yea. Like I notice you are ridiculously nervous and your hand is slightly trembling in mine.”

Robyn blushed, “Oh.”

“I told you that tonight wasn’t a huge deal and I didn’t go into this expecting anything but a good night out. No more, no less. Why are you so nervous?”

“It’s still a date, Chris.”

“I’m already in love with you, Robyn. One date isn’t gonna change that.”

“Chris, it’s not that.”

“So what is it?”

“Can we talk about this later? I really don’t want to ruin the night before it even starts.”

“We got time before the show starts. How about we get a drink then we can talk a little bit? Maybe you’ll feel better once you get it off your chest.”

“Chris, I don’t know.”

“I told you that you could talk to me about anything and I meant that. If I can help alleviate your anxiety a bit, I want to do that, ok. So come on.”

They started walking over to the massive bar that was situated in a nearby lounge area. Chris moved Robyn to stand in front of him and he wrapped an arm around her waist then kissed her cheek, “what you want to drink?”

“You pick.”

“You sure?”

“I’ll try whatever you get.”

Chris smiled then signaled for the bartender, “Can I two glasses of white wine, please?”

The bartender nodded then went to make the drinks. Chris slid his credit card across the counter when they returned. After gathering his card receipt, he placed it back into his pocket then handed Robyn one of the glasses, “since we still have dinner later, wine is a light start. Dark liquor always causes trouble.”

“That’s how we got twins.”

They both laughed as Chris led her to an open set of seats. Robyn crossed her legs over each other as Chris sat next to her and placed his free hand on her thigh, “now Bajan Girl, tell me what’s up.”

“There’s nothing up.”

“You’re nervous about something. I can tell. Is it about sex?”

“No, of course not.”

“So what is it?”

“I just don’t want to get my hopes up, you know.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“A lot. There’s a lot more emotionally riding on this for me and it’s just hard to understand.”

“Are you scared that if this date goes bad, I won’t want to try again or that you won’t want to try again?”

“The latter.”

“Sweetheart, we aren’t in high school anymore. I’m a different man from then and you’re a different woman. Sure it’s not as a simple as wearing matching jackets and cheering at sports games but it’s not that complicated either. I love you and you know that. And with that love comes a lot of patience and understanding. I know it’s scary but I’m putting way more energy into making this go right than worrying about it going wrong. We don’t have to worry about forever right now. Let’s just enjoy these moments and we’ll address the future when it’s time.”

“And how will we know its time?”

“We’ll know just like we know everything else. Just like I feel your anxiety and uncertainty, I’ll be able to feel the opposite when you’re ready and we’ll just take it from there.”

“I don’t know if I like the fact you know me so well.”

“I don’t know if I like the fact that you know me so well either. This definitely goes both ways, Baby.

“You and all these terms of endearment.”

“You like it?”

“Hmm…I don’t know yet. Gotta get used to it.”

Chris chuckled, “wanna know what I do like?”

“What’s that?”

“You. I like you.”

Robyn giggled, “I like you too.”

“Good. I ain’t used to working so hard to get a date especially from my own love of my life.”

“You gots to earn this, Baby Boy.”

“I’m working on it.”

Robyn laughed as she set down her glass and covered his hand with both of hers, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Making me feel better. Taking me out. Everything you’ve done for the past couple of months outside of the turning my life upside down since you got back to Houston.”

Chris laughed, “You never have to thank me for that. I’ll do absolutely anything for you and I’ll try not to turn your life upside down anymore even though it is kind of fun.”

Robyn rolled her eyes, “whatever.”

“I know you get fussy about PDA but I’ll chance it,” Chris said just before he leaned forward to kiss her. He cupped her face with his free hand and kissed her gently on her lips before pressing lighter kisses along her jawline up to her ear. She sighed in pleasure as his tongue flicked her earlobe and she squeezed the hand that he still had resting on her thigh. A loud clanging noise moved them apart then Robyn remembered where they were as her face flushed red.

“Uh uh, don’t start getting embarrassed. We’re grown,” Chris said.

“We’re in public.”

“It’s not like we’re fucking.”

“Stop doing that.”

“One more then I’ll stop.”

“Chris.”

“Baby, please,” he replied with a pout. Robyn groaned then pecked his lips, “that’s it. When do we go to our seats?”

“We can go now.”

Chris tucked a few bills underneath their wine glasses then led Robyn out of the lounge area back into the lobby. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked, “it should be the doors in front of us, we’re in the fourth row.”

“Nice seats.”

“I gotta do right by you, you know that.”

“How long have you been planning on bringing me here?”

“Truth?”

“Truth.”

“I bought these tickets about four months ago. I was gonna ask you as just a friend thing, just like with Jill Scott but when the opportunity came for it to be a date date, I took it.”

“Do you often buy two tickets for concerts?”

“I don’t normally do concerts but it’s harder to be turned down if it involves a person’s favorite artist. I love music and I know you do too so it’s a good common place for us to be where I can still take you out and play it off like you didn’t reject me.”

Robyn laughed, “I’ve never been able to reject you, Christopher.”

“Don’t mind me if I disagree.”

Robyn laughed.

                                                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “That was beautiful,” Robyn remarked as they exited the theatre hand in hand and walked to Chris’s car.

“You enjoyed yourself?”

“I loved it. Good choice, Mr. Brown.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you loved it. I might need to take you to concerts more often.”

“Why so?”

“You’re nicer.”

Robyn pushed his shoulder and Chris laughed, “asshole.”

“I’m just saying. You’re a lot nicer when you’re relaxed and music relaxes you obviously.”

“I am not mean, Christopher.”

“Tell that to somebody who you aren’t mean to”

“And you wonder why I be trying to fight you all the time. Just an asshole.”

“You love me.”

“Ugh….I wish I didn’t.”

“That’s not true. You love loving me.”

“It’s a headache.”

“What’s joy without a little pain?”

“Ok Frankie Beverly.”

Chris chuckled as he gently grabbed Robyn into an embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead against his, “you look like something is on your mind.”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About you.”

“What about me?”

“You came tonight and you trusted me. Means a lot.”

“You invited me, that means a lot too.”

“It does?”

“Definitely. So what are you going to feed me?”

“I was thinking of this little Mexican place. It has the best food that I think you’d love.”

“You really weren’t planning on getting any tonight, huh?”

“What you mean?”

“You’re about to feed me Mexican food, that is generally spicy and possibly contains smelly ingredients like garlic and stuff.”

“And? Ain’t that what Colgate and toothbrushes are for? Listen, if you were down for, there is absolutely nothing that would prevent me from taking you down this evening.”

“Eager?”

“Eh, you had the dream and I’m just all for making it come true.”

“I should’ve never told you about that damn dream.”

Chris chuckled, “why?”

“Because you keep bringing it up.”

“Because it means you really, really like me just like I like you. And it means I’m not the only horny adult between us.”

“I am not horny. It was just a dream.”

“A sex dream. That typically occurs when your body wants sex. Which typically means you are horny. Don’t be ashamed. Bask in it, Ms. Masochist.”

“What did you call me?”

“Ms. Masochist.”

Robyn leaned back and furrowed her brow, “you’ve never called me that before.”

“Yes, I have.”

“When?”

“Back in high school when we found that old porno in the attic of my house.”

“That had nothing to do with S&M though.”

“We were talking about it because the guy kept slapping the girl’s ass until it turned red and you said verbatim, “I wonder what that feels like.” And then you got mad because I told you that I would be very much available to be your first try at it.”

“How the hell do you remember that?”

“Robyn, you’d be surprised what I remember.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said. You ready to eat?”

“Sure.”

Chris moved away from her to open her car door. After helping her inside and closing the door, he went around to the driver’s side and climbed in. He started the ignition then leaned over to turn on the heat, “it’s a little chilly in here. Is this good?”

“Yea, leave it on low.”

“You got it.  So you decide what else you want to do tonight?”

“You said we’re going with the flow so I’m going with the flow.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Chris adjusted his seat a bit then turned to Robyn. She smiled at him and he playfully poked her nose causing her to giggle.

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“Good because I love you too. Can I have a kiss?”

“Oh, you’re actually gonna ask now.”

“You might punch me if I tried it without asking considering earlier.”

“I mean we’re not technically in public anymore.”

Robyn bit down on her lip as Chris’s brow raised in her direction, “Don’t look at me then say stuff like that. I will gladly take you down in the backseat, ain’t nothing but space and opportunity.”

Robyn laughed, “Drive Christopher and I’ll think about that kiss.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Chris placed the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

[mystic-scripture]

What if it wasn’t Fake Pt. 2

A Bucky Fake Dating AU.

Hey all, this is part of Amanda aka @stanclub‘s 2.5 K writing challenge! This is the first time I’ve done one of these. Thanks so much for the likes and supports of Pt 1!! (Tagging: @lost-in-translating, @jamesbvck, and @horsesbeforehomework for signal boost/ the notification!)

Word Count: 5,160

Warnings: Swearing, lots of drinking, anxiety ridden situations, anything else please let me know ASAP

I want to say this is part one of two, but I am not sure yet…we’ll see.

Fake Dating Prompt: my friends are all coupled up and i’m the only single person so i pretended you were my partner even though you’re the barista/bookstore owner/etc. that i see all the time and now they want to meet you (for bucky)

You woke up on a softer surface than you remembered. Stirring slightly, you felt Bucky’s jacket shift from it’s draped position over your chest. You turned your head, trying to gain your bearings only to meet the gaze of Bucky who was sitting in the armchair next to the couch you’d been placed on. Relief flooded his features, and the far of glint to his eyes faded as he took notice of your awakened state.

“Hey…” You lamely croaked, moving to sit up and feeling pain gathering around your temples.

“You pass out on me, don’t wake up for an hour, and all you have to say is ‘hey?’” He raised an eyebrow at you, the relief hardening his voice as if to contradict his concern. “You really had me scared there, (y/l/n).”

“Had a bit too much to drink, I guess.” You moved shrugged your shoulders, pantomiming nonchalance. “Happens sometimes.”

“Bullshit.” He stated, making you look at him with wide eyes. “I’ve seen you at every stage of drunk in the book, hell, I’ve even called you a ride more times than I can count and seen you bounce back the next day. In the three years you’ve been going to Winter’s, never have you fainted like that because of booze.”

“How would you know?” You argued, flushed at how he annoyingly observant he was. “I drink at places other than your bar.”

“Not often, and not with the tabs you run up.” he stated plainly, leaning back and running his hand through the tresses of his hair. You noticed that he’d taken his hair out of it’s do, tangled around his fingers from worrying his hands through it so much. “So are you going to tell me what really happened or try a lie I might actually believe?”

“Right because you know everything about me, right?” You muttered, pulling yourself to your feet so you could glance around the room. Wilson and Rogers were both gone, leaving the two of you alone as the event went on without you. “You didn’t have to babysit me, you should be out there for your friend.”

You didn’t hear, so much as feel Bucky stand behind you, the height difference feeling bigger now than it ever did before. There was also a tensity to the air that confused you, part of it was concern while the other was a thin veil of that forced calm that you’ve been noticing.

“You want to run that first part by me again?” He said, his voice dangerously low as you felt your entire being shudder at the break of silence. “Especially given how stupid the other part was?”

You gulped, turning towards him, but avoiding meeting his eyes, scared to see the intensity of their burn. “I clearly don’t know as much about you as I thought when I asked you to do this, and you have, what? A dossier on me somewhere? You remembered all those things from the day we first met, and I can’t even remember what questions I asked you. You were able to pin all my friends and have none of them question you. Meanwhile I’m here freaking out because I thought this idea was far fetched and-”

You paused, leading up to what caused you to faint in the first place. Bucky however, sensed the rest of your sentence.

“And what?”

His tone had softened, but you still couldn’t meet his gaze. You fiddled with your fingers, twisting at the random ring you wore as if you could screw finger off and that would relieve the immense pressure of his glance. You felt the knot in your throat tighten and expand, the words tangled and stuck there, unable to get out.

“Hey,” he called out, gently pulling your chin so that you had to look at him. His face had softened, the tight lines of whatever emotions were boiling off him had dissipated. His eyes, however, were molten, radiating warmth and comfort. “Say what’s on your mind.”

“And…” You started, testing out your voice but not liking the harshness of it. You sighed, closing your eyes briefly before braving to look at him, tempering your voice. “You just lied to your best friend about us.”

“I don’t understa-”

“The deal was to pretend for my friends, I never said you had to keep the act up around yours.” You fretted, turning from him to pace, only just now realizing that you were barefoot. “This wasn’t supposed to be get this messy. I just had to open my big fat mouth and now-”

You sighed, rubbing at your forehead before looking to him, defeat in your features.

“And now I’ve messed up whatever dynamic we had, nothing’s going to be the same.” You sighed, your shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. “I fucked everything up because I didn’t want to be the only one of my friends that was single.”

You moved to the armchair and felt yourself fall into it, not suddenly like your fainting spell, but slowly, deliberately as if you were expecting him to leave and that you might as well make yourself comfortable. The seconds lasted for hours as you waited for the other shoe to drop. You’d said your piece, aired out your anxieties, now it was his turn to do or say something. But he didn’t, he just stood there, not even looking at you, his gaze where you were as you observed him.

“You could at least deny it.” You said, after a few moments, picking at your lip. “Or tell me I’m right, tell me where we go from here, Anything.”

Your voice seemed to snap him out of his daze, a sigh escaping his lips as he shook himself clear of whatever he was thinking. Moving over to you, he knelt down to grab your shoes from where he’d stowed them, hooking his fingers on the heels as he held them out to you. There was no malice in his stance or face, no sadness, it was just blank, or uncaring, you couldn’t pick out which one. Before you could even decide how you felt about either option, he spoke, his lip curling lightly into that smirk that you’ve had a love/hate relationship with all day.

“Let’s just get out there and take this one step at a time…” He trailed off, his voice sounding like he was talking about the royal we versus the two of you. When you hesitantly touched his knuckles to grab your shoes, he looked at you, a comforting smile stretching across his face. “Alright?”

It was in that moment that realized just how deep you’d fallen down the rabbit hole. All of your fears and doubts melted away with that smile, your head nodding as you slipped into your shoes without your mind fully catching up. It was as if your heart was running the show now, and not your mind. All that was there was Bucky, leading you out of the room, after he shrugged his jacket on. Hell, you were pretty sure that if he asked you to jump, you would ask him how high.

The haze started to fade as you got closer to the venue, Bucky drawing you slowly closer, settling for linked arms instead of his arm around your waist or shoulders. People you vaguely recognized as some of the city’s elite or journalists started to appear around you. The canvases were all uncovered now, the traditional pencil drawings in plain view. You smiled, seeing the time and care of each pencil stroke, the faint signs of smudging from erasing lines or blending shadows. Before you could fully relax however, you were abruptly stopped by the man himself and his agent.

“Happy to see you up and about, Miss.” Came the subdued greeting, the slight green of his eyes moving to look at his friend, checking the status of Bucky as well as yourself. “Gave us all a scare.”

“Sorry to worry you when you already have so much to worry about, Mr. Rogers.” You replied, motioning around the four of you. “Your artwork is amazing.”

“Thank you. And no don’t be sorry, it helped to worry about something other than this.” He blushed, ducking his head down as if embarrassed by your compliment. “And just Steve is fine.”

“Well then Steve it is.” You smiled softly, glad to have such a comforting presence be the first person you spoke to aside from Buck. “You can call me (y/n).”

“Don’t expect him to shake the whole ‘Miss’ thing. It’s just part of his old fashioned sensibilities.” Wilson stated, handing you a glass. “Some water; figured you might need some.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wil-” You paused, your hand around the glass, but still firmly in his hand. There was a look in his eye as he held fast, raising an eyebrow at you. “Sam.”

“That’s better.” He smiled that smile he gave you earlier that night, releasing your drink and your nerves. The next thing his said had you choke on the sip of water you took. “Now, shall we give your friends a bit of a show?”

“I’m sorry?” You stammered, eyes widening and throat burning. Had Bucky told them after all? Was this what he meant about taking it one step at a time.

“I said, any idea on when your friends will show?” He stated, making you relax, wishing that your mind would take a break again. “Of if they’re here already.”

You bit your lip before taking a longer sip of your water. “You know, I didn’t actually get to that part?”

“We sort of just decided to wing it.” Bucky shrugged, making you roll your eyes. “Which (y/n) hates, so thanks for reminding her, Wilson.”

“Oh, bite me, Barnes.” He scoffed, making you laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry did I step on your moment? Steve and I can leave the two of you alone if you’d like.” You offered, gesturing between the small group next to you.

You watched all three of their faces froze for a second, twitching slightly with surprise. You opened your mouth, afraid you’d been too brave too quickly, but suddenly all three of them were laughing, making you relax with them. You were used to taking smack with the guys, and with Bucky even at the bar, but the other two didn’t know your  sense of humor yet. Thankfully, they shared a similar one, Steve speaking up.

“You make that offer every time they get like that though, and you’ll be short a date.” He said, pointing between the two in question. “They have this frenemy situation going on that I don’t get.”

“When you’re the connecting point, you never do.” You said, pulling on Bucky’s arm. “Come on, he may be your best friend, but it is his night. I’m sure we’ll see him around.”

“Boys.” Bucky gave a mock salute, happily letting you tug him further into the throng of people.

The two of you walked for a while, trying to locate your friends, but unable to. Soon, you found yourself at the bar that was set off to the side of the venue. Without skipping a beat, Bucky ordered two of your favorite drink, and paid the bartender. You couldn’t help but feel different sitting next to him instead of across from him. He seemed to sense this, or at least the part where you were watching him.

“D-did you want something else? I get can you something else.” He turned to wave the bartender back over, but you stopped him with a hand on his arm and a soft laugh. “What?”

“Sorry, sorry.” You burst out into a harder laugh at his confusion, composing yourself before continuing. “It’s just strange being on this side of the bar with you...and trusting someone other than you or Nat with my drink. It’s definitely something I could get used to.”

“Is that an offer?” His lip curled, and his gaze flicked down toward where your hand still rested on his wrist. You pulled back, rubbing at the back of your neck as you cleared your throat. As you did so, he turned around to rest his elbows on the bar, his figure facing the dance floor. “I’m down a few bussers, and if tonight is any indication, you actually put some effort into your appearance and you might reel in a few regulars.”

“No that was not an offer.” You dismissed him, your mouth hanging open at his words. “And thanks for that severely backhanded compliment. You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself through a thorough negging, don’t you?”

“Negging?” He turned to look at you doubtfully. “Are you secretly British or some shit and forgot to tell me?”

“No...but I may have watched the first Kingsman movie semi-recently.” You admitted, shyly, looking down at the bar. “I can’t stop the references sometimes.”

“You don’t have to.” He said, turning to look at you. “It’s what makes you.”

“Makes me...” You paused, suddenly hyper aware of how close you were in this new position, causing you to lamely finish the question. “What?”

Bucky didn’t seem to hear you at first, his eyes intent on taking in the details of your face, you couldn’t tell if he, yourself, or both of you leaned forward in that moment, but you both did visibly jumped back when the bartender placed your drinks on the counter. You both laughed at that, quietly thanking the man as Bucky gave him a tip.

“You.” He said, furrowing his eyebrows. Finishing the sentence, and then saying it again lamely. “It’s what makes you, you.”

You pulled the straw from your drink and took a deep sip from the rim, careful to not drip anything- you were still a lady after all- before looking to him. Deciding that there was no time like the present, you took the leap of faith.

“And that makes you, you, Buck?” You tilted your glass towards him. “I think we should have another round of twenty questions, what do you say? And that was not an opening to say it counts as a question.”

He took a couple of sips of his drink as he studied your face, trying to find the motive behind your request. Finding nothing aside from your curiosity, he nodded. “Alright, the only thing left to wonder is will you ask the right questions?”

“Seeing your high standards on the matter, probably not.” You said loftily, taking another sip of your drink and motioning for the two of you to start walking. “But it’ll be fun to try.”

An easy smile spread across his face as he looped your arm through his, the two of you slowly walking through the exhibits. You started with a few basic ones, favorite color, movie, pizza place. Knowing that these were lower tier questions, you asked about him and Steve, learning about how they grew up in Brooklyn together, and the trouble they’d get into. You could tell that he cared deeply for his friend, as if he were family, and it made you remember to look for your friends. So far, there were no signs of them, but you were having fun getting to know Bucky.

“What about the bar?” You said, the two of you looking at a pair of still arts on the wall. “Did you always want to do that, or did you happen upon it?”

“A little bit of both.” He admitted, tilting his head to the side. He paused in thought, as if trying to plan his explanation. “I always wanted to help people, and during the war, I was able to see what a good, safe environment could provide. The bar has no sides, no right or wrong, just people getting together and agreeing that life sucks sometimes.”

You felt yourself nodding, a smile forming on your lips as you understood what he was talking about. “Very profound of you, Mr. Barnes. Very Profound.”

He ducked his head down, similar to when Steve did, as if embarrassed by your praise. He quickly turned the table on you though, leading you to the central area. You thought maybe he was leading you to the next part of the exhibit, but instead you found Clint and Laura. Beaming, you gently extracted yourself from Bucky and hugged your friends, finding the others close by,

“We were worried there, (y/l/n).” Peter teased, tapping your shoulder. “Thought you two might have bailed on us.”

“Speak for yourself!” Was your indignant reply, gesturing to the scene around you. “We’ve been looking for you most of the night.”

Clint, however, decided that his lack of tact would come in handy. “We were watching you guys a couple of times, you weren’t trying all that hard.”

The girls all smacked his shoulders with groans. Laura, however, rubbed his chest with a small sigh. “He means to say that we didn’t want to intrude, no worries.”

“No, I meant that we-yeow!” He insisted, rubbing the back of his head where Okoye had struck him. “Dammit! Why are we always messing with poor, defenseless, Clint, huh? I didn’t even do anything.”

“Says someone who usually said or did something.” You corrected.

You all went to a small table to get some drinks and finger food, and before you knew it, you were finding yourself more at ease with your friends. Or at least you did at first. Even though you felt that you and Bucky had gotten this whole act down at this point, you knew that was all it was, a favor that you never knew how to repay. A lie you didn’t want or know how to get out of. Bucky seemed to sense this though, and every time you seemed to get overwhelmed he was there to have you walk with him, or even dance with him, as you were now, a few of the others joining you as well.

“You still have a few questions by the way.” He murmured, cheek gently pressed against your cheek as he held you close. If he hadn’t spoken you would have been drifting into the land of make-believe where this would happen all the time. “You giving up on me, Doll?”

You pulled back to meet his gaze, immediately seeing the mocking glint to his eye. “I was trying to be subtle Barnes. Can’t exactly interrogate you with my friends watching. They think we know all this stuff about each other.”

“To be fair, one of us does.” He shrugged, a smirk curling into his cheek. “You are a very talkative drunk.”

“And you like to brag about being overly observant of other people.” You retorted, shifting your position so that your hand rested atop his shoulder while he held your other hand, allowing you to talk more comfortably. “Tell me, do you enjoy being a cocky know-it-all who gives nothing away.”

“Oh, I’m an open book,” He answered, the smirk widening into a grin, “It’s just a matter of-”

“Asking the right questions. I know.” You rolled your eyes. “A cipher I will crack one day.”

He just sighed, moving to rest his cheek near the crown of your head. “I’m sure you will.”

The rest of the night went well, the limo ride was longer than you remember it being, but you blamed your drunk friends for that. Before leaving, you had made sure to see Sam and Steve again, Bucky saying goodbye to his friends, and both of you assuring the artist that it was a great success. Now, you were leaning into him, the two of you quiet as the others were rowdy, or just deeply seeded in PDA. You were used to it, but it didn’t make it less annoying. You were pulled from your reflections by Bucky nudging you with the shoulder you leaned on. Groaning at the shift in your comfortable position, you sat up with a pout, silently inquiring his motives.

“You know, I just realized that I haven’t done this all night.” He said, giving you only the time to raise a single eyebrow in confusion before the second one flew up in surprise as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

He’d given you small displays of affection, the contact, and some light kisses to the temple or cheek, but this felt different. It was hesitant, almost chaste in nature until you felt your eyes flutter shut and you relaxed into it. Then he grew more confident, and soon there was a collection of whooping around you as everyone took in the sight. Of course, this caused you to both pull away with nervous laughter in your throats, but you could only think about how right it felt. You were also sure that you were flushing intensely based on the heat at the back of your neck as well as the look of pure amusement on Bucky’s face as he looked at you.

“Will you two be joining us for our little after party?” Wanda asked, distracting you from the rapid beating of your  heart. “Vis and I have plenty of wine and movies for to last the rest of the night. That is…” She trailed off and gave a suggestive smile in your direction. “If you two didn’t already have plans?”

You bit your lip at the implication there, it was the part of the evening where you usually left your friends for a hookup or to just lay in your living room eating ice cream until you fell asleep with your outfit and make-up all rumbled and half a pint wasting away at room temperature. You hadn’t planned, well for a lot of what happened today, which gave you pause, but of course, Bucky was all about making the brash decisions, and answered quickly.

“I think we’re going to turn in for the night.” He answered easily, not implying anything, but merely conveying that it had been a long night for your both. “Did you want to go to your place or mine, Doll?”

“Your pla- or-” You choked slightly, coughing to cover it up. “My place is closer, we can go there.”

The group nodded and told the driver where to go, and the rest of the ride was relatively calm. People were tired, or otherwise distracted, and honestly, you were just too comfy to really pay attention. You would answer the odd question, and could hear the conversation around you, but you were busy enjoying every last moment of this fleeting contentment, dreading what would happen when you closed your front door.

The moment came all two soon, the two of you scrambling through the seats to give hugs and handshakes to all, and wishing everyone a good night. Bucky had his arm around your shoulders even as they pulled away, gently leading you towards your front door with no sign of leaving. Once you were in the main hallway, he gave you space to open up your door. Once you did, you turned, leaning against the frame.

“Well, that was adventure, wasn’t it?” He breathed, something in his stance shifting to a real comfort and not the forced one.

“I’d say…” You agreed, biting your lip as you figured out what to say. “Thank you, Buck….really.”

He shrugged, shaking head head. “Like I told you; I was going anyway, no need to make you look shitty in front of your friends.”

“True, true.” You said, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. You opened your mouth to say something, but Bucky got there first, pointing at you.

“You never did get the last of those questions.”

His eyes were bright, hopeful and filled with an anticipation you didn’t think you could satisfy. You felt yourself pull towards him, much like at the bar, unsure of who moved first, but this time, there was no one to stop you. No one that is except yourself.

“I didn’t, did I?” You paused slightly. “Perhaps I’m afraid of what comes after...”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

His voice soft as he assured you, his hand leaning above your head on the doorway as he continued to eliminate the space between you. You could feel the energy zapping between you two, but your fears had too much of a hold on you. So, you said the first things that popped into your head, two questions; stupid given that you were at three, but you said them anyway.

“Do you think they fell for it? Both of our friends, I mean…” You started to gesture wildly with your hands. “Did they even like me?”

A thousand expressions flashed in his eyes as you said that, most of them making you instantly regret saying that. He settled on a calm one, though his jaw was clenched until he forced through a laugh, genuine amusement in his eyes.“Yeah, I think I can safely say that we had everyone going. Steve thought you were great and who cares what Wilson thinks?”

“Says someone who absolutely cares about what he thinks.” You accused, pushing at his shoulder lightly. “We made a pretty good team, huh?”

“Yeah, should make a rental service.” He spread his hand in front of him as he pulled back, “For all those events where you’d rather die than be single.’ We’d do weddings, family gatherings, high school reunions…”

You both laughed, but there was something missing. You couldn’t really parse it out, and from the look of doubt on his face, Buck didn’t really know either. Instead of figuring it out though, he cleared his throat, and pointed behind him.

“I think it’s safe for me to scoot out now, right?” He turned to look at the main door. “Don’t want to keep you up much longer.”

“I should be saying that to you.” Shaking fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. “I had a surprise one hour nap...and who knows what you have lined up for tomorrow.”

“That’s fair.” He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I guess I’ll see you around then, (y/n).”

You let out a hushed response, dreading this moment but being powerless to stop it. Just your courage giving out on you when you had the chance. And now, he was leaving, his back turned towards you as you started to close the door in front of you. Hearing his heavy footsteps down the hall. There was no way the night could end like this. What were you thinking? Were you stupid? You couldn’t think on it too long, knowing that he could be rounding the street corner as you did so. Kicking off your heels and pushing open your door, you burst out of your apartment leaving the door wide open and crashed into a solid object that resulted in swearing from a familiar voice.

“Clint?!” You jumped back, holding your hand to your heart. “What the hell are you doing here, where’s Laura?”

“I live here? And Laura wanted to hang with the girls some more.” He shrugged. “Something about being the only one sober enough to direct them where to go. Besides, I figured I’d wait a few seconds for your boy to sneak out, since I know you’ve been in a panic all night.”

“Panic? Wha-No..I wasn’t panicking.” You scoffed, leaning against the wall. “I just really wanted you guys to like him is all.”

“Yeah, and you really wanted him to like you too.” He agreed, and you found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself. “Because he isn’t actually your man...yet.”

Being in a rush, you didn’t even both to deny it. “When did you figure it out...were you listening in on the whole saga that just happened at my front door?”

“When he kissed you.” Clint shrugged. “Guys like that don’t ‘just realize’ they haven’t kissed a girl looking like you do tonight, and it didn’t take a genius to see that you weren’t even expecting it.”

“God, you two are made for each other.” You muttered. “Obnoxious observation skills and all.”

“Well as flattering as that statement is, I’m not his type.” He walked around you, pushing you towards the door. “And you’d better hurry if you want to catch him in time.”

You nodded, mustering up your courage as you hopped into a sprint, nearly crashing into a couple of neighbors coming home for the evening. Muttering rushed apologizes you pulled up your skirt and made for the front door, looking for where Bucky would have gone. He was, as you guessed, rounding the corner, his stance wilted as he walked, disappointed. Mustering up all the courage you had, you held one hand next to your mouth and shouted.

“James!”

He paused, and you ran up to him in the time it took him to turn around. He raised an eyebrow at you, looking down at you now that you’d lost your height. You probably looked like a wreck with your hair everywhere and your dress in all sorts of disarray, but you didn’t care, you needed to do this, now. Or you never would.

“I still...still have one question that I’m gonna try not to waste this time.” You gasped, trying to gain the breath to even get the words out. You could tell the anticipation was killing him a little, but he didn’t want you to know it.

“What if this wasn’t fake?” You blurted out, holding your hands in front of you to back track. “I mean unless I’m reading things wrong and you’re an amazing actor, I mean there’s a reason I’m the single one, and I just couldn’t let you walk away without knowing if-”

You were cut off by Bucky taking your face in his hands and kissing you. It wasn’t chaste like the one in the limo, but it wasn’t fierce either, it was a perfect medium that had you melting in his arms as you kissed him back. As you pulled away, he smiled at you, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“Now that is the right question that I’ve been waiting for.” He smiled, warm and bright as he spun you towards your house. “Now, let’s get you fixed up.”

“Are you saying there’s something wrong with the way I look, Barnes.” You mocked, falling into step with him.

“You know I am, you look like you’ve lived in that dress for a week.”

“Such a Charmer, Buck, really smooth.”

“Never claimed to be, Doll.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Just saying that I liked the park look better.”

And as you walked back up to your apartment, you finally got a glimpse of the happiness your friends found in each other, and you were okay with that.