#ugh when this page is finished I’ll finally be free. maybe possibly

[shortnotsweet]

comic panel wip ft. the smile of someone trying to sell you something, surely

[dauntless-gothamite]

Prove Them Wrong [3/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: I like what I did with the end of this one, putting a (hopefully) comedic/unique twist on a trope and adding something original :) feedback is very much appreciated, happy reading

When you walked into the training room the next morning, everyone avoided looking at your face, specifically, your neck. Instead, people looked at the ground. You knew you had bruises around your neck from where Peter had grabbed you, but you hadn’t expected a group of dauntless to be so touchy about it; bruises were common here. 

“Alright, listen up!” Four yelled. “We are doing some target practice today, so line up and get throwing,” he said, pointing to the line of targets against the wall. At least you weren’t fighting today; your body could use a break. That fight with Peter really had worn you out, and since you guys had thrown knives a couple times already, you were starting to get familiar with the technique. 

You walked up to a free target and looked over the knives positioned on the table before you, holding one and turning it over in your hand. “Well? Are you going to throw that knife or just stare at it all day?” the gruff, aggressive voice of Eric asked. You turned to look at him, and a part of you was pleased to notice that he was looking you in the face, not avoiding your eyes and neck like everyone else around here. 

One side of your mouth quirked up in the beginning of a smile before you replied, “I’m about to throw it.”

“Then get on with it!” Without hesitation, you turned your body to the target, and you positioned your feet similar to how you would if you were throwing punches instead of knives. Gripping the handle, you drew the knife back, aimed, and twisted forward, releasing the knife as you traced an invisible arc over your head. The knife stuck to the target with a thud, but it was a little lower than you’d hoped it would be. Eric nodded and said “Get that figured out before I get back, and maybe I won’t yell at you,” before walking away to stand behind some other initiate, most likely to stress them out so much that they’d miss the target completely. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t yell at me very much, you thought to yourself. Because I don’t break under the pressure of his judgemental stare. After taking many math tests with teachers walking around the room, looking over each student’s shoulder as they frantically scribbled down answers, you were used to being watched and assessed. 

Picking up the next knife, you lined yourself up just like you did before and repeated the motion, letting go of the knife a bit earlier this time. The knife landed at the height you wanted it to, but it was a little far to the side. Grabbing for the next knife, you made sure that this time you didn’t twist as much, but you did everything the same way you did before, and the third knife landed just a few millimeters from where you’d aimed, but you were satisfied. Smirking to yourself, you looked to either side before walking forward cautiously to grab the knives from the target. As you grabbed the first knife’s handle and pulled it out of the target, you heard the sound of a knife flying through the air near your head, and in an instant, said knife embedded itself just a centimeter above your head in the target. 

“What the fuck!” you yelled. Whipping around to glare at whichever person’s knife had gone so far off course, you saw Eric standing where you had been standing to throw the knives with a smirk on his face. 

“Just testing you,” he said nonchalantly. You scowled in response, eyeing the knife he still held in his hands. You locked eyes with him, and his smirk grew wider as you backed up against the target, knowing what would come next, right before Eric’s second knife landed between your arm and your torso. You turned back around to grab your knives, and Eric said “Grab mine too, initiate.” While you were turned around, you rolled your eyes, but you did retrieve his knives for him, passing them back to him curtly. He grabbed them out of your hands, fingers brushing ever so slightly in the process, before turning around to torment someone else. 

--

At dinner, just as you were about to take a bite of your hamburger, Will asked, “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Get Eric not to hate you!”

“He doesn’t like me,” you scoffed.

“At the very least, he doesn’t yell at you every five minutes,” Tris butted in, to which Will and Christina nodded fervently. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Luck, I guess?”

“No way, luck could not possibly get that man to be even a little bit nice to anybody,” Christina countered. 

“Ok, maybe not, but like I said, I don’t know! Maybe it’s because I don’t crack under pressure or something.”

“Something like that,” Will conceded with a sigh before turning on Tris. “Your turn; what’s going on with you and Four?”

“Nothing!” Tris replied. 

“Come on, don’t lie to us,” Christina said. You badly wanted to say something to try and get more information out of Tris, but you refrained just in case they decided to turn back on you and start asking about Eric again. 

“I don’t know,” Tris said. “He’s cute, though,” she admitted with flushed cheeks. 

The banter between you all went on like that for a little while as everyone ate their dinner, until Will got up and said, “I’ll see you guys back at the dorm; I want to get there early and hit the showers while everyone is still at dinner. Get a little privacy for once,” and stood up with a smile. 

As soon as Will was out of earshot, you leaned across the table to Christina and said “So, when are you finally going to tell Will you like him?” you smirked. 

“What? No,” Christina said.

“Come on, Tris, back me up here,” you said.

“She has a point,” Tris said with a nod. 

“You guys are unbelievable!” Christina said and stood up, prompting you and Tris to do the same, and then you all headed out of the dining area together to stroll through dauntless for a little while before going back to the dorm so as to give Will some privacy. 

“You know, I think I’m going to try and shower early as well,” Tris said as the three of you walked. “But don’t worry, Christina, I won’t look at Will,” she winked and laughed before peeling off towards the dorm.

“Hey!” Christina yelled after her as you stood next to her, doubled over in laughter. 

“Will, can you calculate the speed at which my fist hits the punching bag? Can you--” you teased Christina.

“Stop it!” she shrieked, her blush deepening.

“Just admit that you like him, it should be easy for an ex-Candor!”

“Fuck off!” she said, but there was no malice in her tone. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, and that was the last straw before Christina gave you a hard shove, making you stumble as you laughed at her expense. Then your body collided with something solid. You heard whomever you had just crashed into growl in frustration as you stared at their black boots. Eric’s black boots. Your laughter died in your throat as you stood, taking note of the numerous pages and folders that were undoubtedly full of important files in them scattered across the floor. You made eye contact with Christina’s, who at least had the decency to look guilty as she retreated down the hallway, as Eric said “Well, initiate. I don’t know what you were doing, nor do I care, but the rest of your evening will be spent reorganizing the files you just scattered everywhere.” 

You nodded as you made eye contact with him before bending over to pick up the pages on the floor. Once you had picked everything up, Eric started walking and you followed up three flights of stairs and down a hallway, eventually coming to a stop outside a door which he unlocked. You followed him inside as he turned on the lights, and looking around, you knew this was his office. “You will sort these pages by category and date, then leave them on my desk when you’re finished, understood?”

“Actually, I have a question,” you asked as an idea occurred to you. He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“What?”

“Wouldn’t something physical be a better punishment? Just because I happen to be good at sorting, this feels like it’s--”

“No,” Eric said. “I know what you’re doing. Trying to get an advantage by extra training and building it into something you already have to do. I’m not an idiot, Y/N.”

Nervous to push him any further, you decided to throw one more thing out there, and if he didn’t take it well you would shut it and sort the files. “Well, of course not, you are from Erudite originally, so--”

“Who told you that,” Eric asked, annoyed. You weren’t sure, but you thought you saw a glimpse of something else in his eyes for a moment. 

“No one, it’s just that Ms. McKimmerer talked about you all the time.”

“That old math teacher? He asked incredulously”

“Yeah, she always said ‘Eric Coulter memorized more digits of pi than any other student in his year, try to be more like him’ and ‘It’s a shame he left Erudite’ when she taught us about pi.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Eric scoffed. “And don’t mention that to anyone, initiate!”

“I won’t!” you said, slightly amused. After a brief pause, you said,  “But you should know, there is even a picture of you from that year on her desk, with your hair combed back and a blue collared shirt.”

Eric paused for a moment, and you did your best not to break, but eventually you howled in laughter; his wide-eyed reaction was just too funny.

Scowl in place, Eric schooled his face into a calm, if annoyed mask, and said “get to work on those files. I will check back in a bit to see if you’re done sorting them.” Then, he walked out and shut the door behind him. Chuckling to yourself, you got to work on the large stack of paper before you.

--

The door opened loudly and you woke up to the sound of Eric Coulter clearing his throat. “Did you finish sorting the files before falling asleep at my desk, initiate?” 

Sitting up, slightly embarrassed, you nodded. “Good. Now get out of my office and go eat dinner.”

You stood from the desk, hesitating for a minute. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” you said, turning to face Eric. 

“Yes?”

“Well, I noticed you have a few books in here, and I was wondering if I could borrow Mental Conditioning: Getting Your Mind and Body On the Same Page. I wasn’t looking through your stuff, it’s just on the self over there--”

“I know where my own damn book is,” he said, walking over to it and grabbing the book off the shelf. “Here,” he said, handing it to you. “Return it when you're done, and it better be in the same condition it is now when I get it back, understood?”

“Yes, thank you!” you smiled at him, pleasantly surprised that he was letting you borrow the book.

--

That night, when you got back to the dorm room, you read a few pages of Eric’s book before going to bed. It was a little hard to focus with all the noise--you’d find a better spot to read tomorrow--but you were happy nonetheless; while dauntless was great, you had missed all the books that were available to you at Erudite. As your eyes grew tired, you reached into your bag under your bed, which held your few belongings--every initiate got one--and pulled out a napkin you had been doodling some tattoo ideas on during lunch, placed it between the pages to act as a bookmark, and put the book away in the bag. You closed your eyes, surrounded by your friends, mind calm from reading, and for a moment, despite the lingering pain around your neck, you were completely at peace as you drifted off to sleep. 

Tag List: @shykoolaid, @taina-eny​, @parabatai-winchester​, @marvel-ousnesss​

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

A new prompt for you! (Finally :3)

I'm picturing multiple couples or a family group (4+ adults) who share a cottage together in the middle of nowhere, living off the land. Winter is coming, bringing with it its chill winds and early dustings of snow. The people are hard at work every day, chopping wood and putting aside the last of the food for winter.

It's the worst possible time to get sick, yet someone does, coming down with a miserable, streaming cold and high fever. What do they do about it? How do the others respond?

Could have definite cottage core elements, or fantasy (since you're so good at writing that!) or contagion if you choose. Can't wait to see the results :)

It’s been so long since I’ve written a real, honest to god fic, so this will be my debut back into snzfucker favor!

Okay, okay, who to include in this house of contagion?

We need a soft healer boi that takes care of everyone before themselves, of course. A very strong, stoic, hardworking warrior with muscles of steel - but the same can’t be said for his immune system. A hyper comic relief (like if Scout from TF2 was in a fantasy setting) that insists he isn’t sick, but can’t keep back his sneezes long enough to prove his point. And, of course, a tall, thin scholar whose cold heart is only melted by his fever.

Adventurers packing it in for the winter and preparing for journeying in the spring, now only at most a few yards from each other and having shot immune systems from the exhausting work. Illness doesn’t have to travel far to infect…

Oh, this is gonna be good.

***********************

“Look look look! Otto, you’re not gonna believe this!”

Barlow skidded to a halt, almost tripping over his own two feet before regaining his balance. Otto chuckled.

“Alright, alright, que pasa? What is so exciting?”

Barlow fumbled with his cloak before pulling a shiny coin out of one of the pockets.

“I got this off a path when I was pickin’ berries! Must’ve been a merchant or something…”

Barlow’s eyes suddenly lit up.

“Or maybe a warrior! Ooh, or a knight! Definitely somebody with a cape.”

He flung the back of his cloak behind him and stood tall, crossing his arms with a self-satisfied grin. However, Barlow couldn’t keep the pose long - the frigid air made him close the thin burlap around himself again, shivering. Otto knitted their brow.

“You’re wearing your summer cloak,” they said, looking Barlow up and down. “You must be freezing, chiquito!”

Barlow waved his hand, as if batting away Otto’s concern.

“Don’t worry about it, doc. It’s gonna take more than a little wind to get me down.”

As if to prove a point, he spread out his arms and spun around, laughing at the many leaves he kicked up.

Otto would usually be charmed by the sprite’s antics, but their concern soon outweighed their amusement.

“Just make sure to change into your winter clothes soon, okay? I would hate for you to get sick.”

Barlow stopped spinning, coughing a bit as he caught his breath with chilly autumn air. His hot breath clouded around his face like smoke.

“Okay, okay,” he panted, “I’ll grab it when I go by the cottage. Forgot my basket anyway. See you around, doc.”

With a quick salute, Barlow ran off, cloak billowing behind him, still clenching the coin in a tight fist. Otto shook their head and sighed. They knew that Barlow just didn’t want them to worry - but that only made them worry more. The healer in them couldn’t help but notice red-tipped fingers, congested voices, and pallid complexions. Besides, with a harsh winter underway, a cold could very quickly rear its ugly head, turning into bronchitis, pneumonia, and even infect a person’s magic…

Otto took a deep breath. Their thoughts had run away with them - and now, more than ever, it was important to stay focused.

The doctor gathered up their scrolls, pulled their coat close, and started back to the cottage.

Perhaps a little tea would calm their nerves.

***************

“it’CHEW! CHEW!”

“Salud.”

“Ugh…thanks, doc. Snf!”

Otto looked up from his knitting to see Barlow rubbing his long, pointy ears with a pained look on his face.

“Do your ears hurt?”

Barlow put his hands in his lap. “No! Just, uh, a little itchy.”

Severin, who had been reading on the sofa across from Otto, hid a smirk behind the yellowed pages.

“Someone must be talking about you,” he drawled smugly. “Considering the way you conduct yourself, I’m not surprised.”

Instead of snapping back, Barlow still scratched at his ears. Severin slit his eyes and continued to read. He almost seemed disappointed.

“Could be thragweed,” Godric rumbled from a large wooden stool, rubbing his beard in thought, “but they usually shrivel up by the first frost. Didja see any three-leaved plants while you were out foragin’?”

Barlow shrugged, wincing as he rubbed harder. “Um…maybe?”

Otto frowned. “Be careful. You’ll hurt yourself if you keep scratching like that.”

“S-sorry, I…huh-hold on…”

Barlow buried himself in his cloak, with only his mop of red hair showing.

“hit’SHEW! Huh…it’TCHEW!”

The sprite continued to let out sneeze after sneeze, his wrinkled, pink nose only showing when he needed to come up for air. Otto got up from their chair, and they were soon holding him by the shoulders to keep him from knocking himself over.

Barlow finally finished, snuffling into his sleeve. He looked up at Otto with bleary eyes.

“Sorry, doc, I don’d dow whad’s gotten into be…”

Otto hushed him with a gentle pat, using their free hand to feel Barlow’s forehead. They clucked their tongue.

“Oh, mijo, you have a fever...”

Barlow’s breath caught, and he coughed into his shoulder. “Nah, I…I’b okay, Otto, really. I’ll be…snrk…fide in the morning. Just gotta sleep it off…”

Otto smiled gently. “Well, you’re right about one thing. A good night’s sleep is exactly what you need. And maybe a little salve for your poor ears…”

Their hand still on Barlow’s shoulder, Otto guided the sprite to his bedroom, mumbled protests and miserable sneezes trailing behind them.

***************

Barlow’s fever never grew very high - his burning ears and nose, however, kept him up for most of the night. By the time morning came, he was too exhausted to even feign health. Otto had to put him back to bed, which was only met with pitiful murmurings.

“‘M fide, doc, I…hetch’CHIIIEW!”

“Pobrecito! You sound even worse than yesterday…”

“C’mon, Otto, I…”

“I don’t want to see you out of bed today, okay, cariño? You need to rest.”

“Nngh…”

Otto and Severin split the foraging work, since their respective jobs were mostly planning and budgeting the winter ahead of them. Godric promised to keep a good eye on the patient, but that didn’t lessen the doctor’s worry any.

“I wonder how Barlow’s doing,” Otto murmured, probably for the umpteenth time since they’d begun their work.

Severin scrutinized his severely pricked thumb. “Children always carry around such nasty things. It’s a wonder he hasn’t caught the plague instead of a simple cold.”

Otto froze mid-pick, and Severin hurried to correct himself.

“Peace, my friend. It is just a cold, after all.

He grimaced.

“One I dearly hope he keeps to himself.”

They both continued to fill their baskets with berries, wiping the frost off their shiny, black skins. However, Otto’s mind continued to race.

I shouldn’t have left him. Godric only knows so much. What happens if his fever spikes? I’m a healer, I’m not supposed to leave the sick behind. Should I go back? I should go back. No, I promised Barlow I’d get his foraging done. But I can’t keep a promise if he’s dead. What if he’s already dead? What if Godric’s on his way right now to tell me? What if I’m already too late? How will we bury him, the ground is too hard. Otto, your friend has died and all you can think about is how to bury him. You must be the most selfish -

“Otto.”

Otto snapped back to reality to see Severin giving him a fierce side-eye.

“It’s only a cold.”

Otto took a deep breath. “Right. Gracias. I…I lost myself, didn’t I?”

The afternoon went by in a quiet fervor, both of them trying to fill their baskets before the sun went down. With Otto’s quick fingers and Severin’s thin ones, it was an easy job, and the managed to get back before it got too dark.

Otto wasn’t two steps through the door before they were at Godric’s heels, wringing their hands and stammering through the worries that had built up through the day.

“Are you sure…how…did he…should I…?”

The warrior just chuckled and put a gigantic, calloused hand on the their head.

“He’s on tha’ mend, doc, on the mend. Sneezin’ his head off, sure, but gettin’ better.”

As if on cue, two loud sneezes interrupted them from one of the bedrooms, followed by a mumbled curse and a few wet sniffles. Godric shook his head.

“Been like that all day, poor tyke. When he wasn’ dozin’ off, tha’ is.”

Severin took a few scrolls out of his dragon-scale satchel.

“I understand you have a more…pressing engagement. Why don’t I take the calculations tonight?”

But Otto was already on their way to Barlow’s bedside, medicine bag in tow. Severin only lifted his eyebrows and turned on his heel, setting up the many notes he had taken and a few quills on the oaken table.

“Besides,” he murmured to himself, “I don’t want to get near whatever affliction that sprite’s come down with.”

*************

Barlow was scratching at his drooping ears, which were now covered in a red, peeling rash. Otto gently pushed his hands back under the quilt.

“I know it itches, but you need to try not to scratch.”

The healer took a small glass container out of their bag, dipping two fingers into the greenish-gray ointment inside. They began to apply the salve to Barlow’s ears, taking care not to put on too much.

“Tell me when you need a break,” Otto said.

Barlow nodded, eyes squeezed shut. After a few minutes, his nostrils started to twitch, and he held up a hand.

“G-gudda…huh…!”

He jerked forward into his knees.

“hit’CHEW! hhhit’SHEW! Uh…hut’SHIEW!”

Barlow snuffled into the quilt, and Otto handed him a tissue.

“Salud.”

“Ugh…sorry, doc…”

Otto put the cork back into the glass bottle and set it on the bedside table.

“It’s alright - most sprites have the same reflex.”

“No, I beant…for…”

Barlow bit his lip, his ears drooping even lower.

“For geddin’ sick.”

Otto put a hand on the sprite’s back.

“Oh, mijo…”

“I-I didn’d mean to,” Barlow whimpered. “I…I should’ve god by coat like you told be to…and dow w-we’re - hic - gudda starve…”

Otto hushed him, pulling Barlow into an embrace and rocking him slowly back and forth.

“We will be fine, mijo,” they whispered, their voice soothing Barlow into a sniffle. “We will forage until you are better, and not a day before. That is what friends do. They protect each other, they take care of each other, and they love each other like family. And that is how I love you. Like my family.”

Barlow hiccuped, trying to speak through his tears.

“Shhh, mijo…it’s okay…”

Otto wrapped the quilt tighter around Barlow and laid him down, pushing hair damp with both tears and sweat out of his face. The sobs quieted, then dissolved into shaky breaths. Before Otto even made it through the doorway, they could hear small, congested snores coming from the pile of blankets.

*****************

Scritch scritch scritch…scriiiitch…

Harried quill scratching filled the air as Otto entered the living room, putting on their tweed coat and wool gloves. They stretched out their arms.

“Buenos días!”

Godric lifted his coffee mug as a greeting, his famous half-smile dancing over his lips.

“Well, aren’tcha bright as tha’ north star this mornin’!”

Otto beamed. Barlow had slept soundly through the night, and he was still fast asleep when they had checked on him. Not a sniffle or a sneeze came from that room.

“Severin, I was thinking we could pick up acorns today,” Otto thought aloud, buttoning their coat. “There is a beautiful place in the forest…”

Silence. The quill scratching only grew more manic. Otto glanced up.

Severin was hunched over the table, writing madly on several open scrolls, only pausing to move a few beads on his abacus. Otto went back to getting ready. Sometimes it took a while for Severin to answer if he was engrossed in his calculations. He would respond when he got to a stopping point.

After about fifteen minutes of fidgeting with their scarf, though, Otto tried again.

“From what I’ve seen, we should be ready for winter in a week, maybe less. All that’s left is the dried vegetables and a few more logs for firewood.”

Again, there was no answer. But now that Otto was a little closer, they could see why.

Severin’s eyes were inflamed and painful, as were his gaunt cheeks. His long, usually well-preened hair was matted against his forehead, with stray hairs sticking up this way and that. Thin shoulder blades came together with each labored breath. Long fingers shivered around a red quill, leaving stray marks on the parchment.

“Mi sombro,” Otto breathed.

The shadowling blinked, raising his head stiffly. Pools of sweat, shaken loose by the movement, streaked down their face.

“I…couldn’t sleep,” Severin croaked. “Have I…have I been awake…?”

Godric looked up from his mug, finally noticing the sorcerer’s state. “Stars above, lad! Ya look like hell frozen over!”

The shadowling stared straight ahead, his breath coming in ragged strains.

“Could someone…please put out the fireplace…?”

Otto clucked their tongue, putting their hands on either side of Severin’s neck. His dark eyes fluttered shut, as if with great relief.

“Mm…”

“Ay, tu cabeza,” Otto cooed, putting their hand on Severin’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

Severin finally looked down at the doctor. His tense gaze was now dazed, vulnerable - even afraid.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said again, hoarsely.

Otto rubbed their thumb on Severin’s feverish cheek. “I know, cariño. I know.”

***************

It took a lot more doing to get Severin to bed than it did Barlow. Not only did he insist he was perfectly well, only warm from the unlit fireplace, but that he had seen terrifying visions outside the window.

“Their eyes, doctor…they stared into my very essence…a…a beast of some kind…we’ll be killed…”

“Shhh, my love. It’s only a nightmare from your fever. You will feel better soon.”

In the end, the only way Otto could leave the cottage was by taking a small talisman Severin had in his cloak. They weren’t superstitious, but Otto wanted to do anything they could to put the sick sorcerer at ease.

Now with one less healthy person in the group, Otto rushed to get the last of the supplies for the cold winter ahead. The first snowflakes were beginning to fall, which made finding acorns that much more difficult. Before the sun reached its peak, the ground was completely covered in a thin layer of snow. But, for once, Otto’s anxiety was an advantage.

They plowed through every task as if their life depended on it. Another of their friends falling ill had kicked their healer instinct into high gear; whenever they were fatigued or sore, all it took was a few words of the healing oath to get them going again.

“From the monsters of the cave, of the sea, of the heart,” they whispered while peeling wild wolf onions, “I shall protect and provide for those who cannot.”

As morning turned to afternoon, the light flurry of the morning became a bitter gale that howled through the trees like a hungry animal. The world was silent except for the frigid wind - all the creatures of the forest knew well enough that the winter ahead would not be kind to them.

But Otto knew nothing of this.

And so they marched forward.

It was quite past dark when Otto returned to the cottage. Much to their delight, a fire was flickering in the fireplace, and a wonderful, familiar smell lingered in the air - a mixture of tender meat and spices.

As Otto had hoped, there was a pot of stew left over the flames. The broth still bubbled with warmth, and the chicken and vegetables gave off a heavenly steam. Their stomach suddenly felt very hollow.

They hadn’t eaten all day, had they?

With raw fingers, the doctor tried their best to use the ladle, which was as big as their entire arm and weighed twice as much. Gripping the handle with both hands, they brought the brew to their lips, taking care not to burn their tongue.

A beautiful, soothing flavor poured down Otto’s throat. They leaned their head back and closed their eyes, making sure to drink up every last tasty morsel. It was a long time before the ladle was empty again.

Once they were finished, the healer felt a heaviness collect around their eyes. Finally, at long last, they could rest. The cottage was fast asleep - and now it was time for Otto to follow suit.

Sleep came upon Otto too quickly for them to retire to their own bed. Like a hound after a successful hunt, they crawled onto the sofa and curled into a ball, dead to the world before their head hit the soft cushions.

*******************

Otto wasn’t sure how long they slept. They remembered bits and pieces of dreams, of words, or memories - but mostly a comforting darkness that lulled them into a deep drowse.

When they finally awoke, the first thing they saw was the flitting of the fire. The flame had all but burned itself out during the night. Otto rolled over, stretching and sighing with satisfaction. That was the best they had slept in several days.

They indulged themselves in a large yawn and shifted off the sofa, cringing from cold stone against their bare feet.

The cottage was still silent with sleep - not a thing stirred but the creaks and groans of the wooden beams. A frigid wind had picked up outside, and bits of snow swirled in the air.

How cold Godric must be this morning, Otto thought as they padded towards the hallway. The warrior was always up and working by first light - quite before anyone else was awake - but came back inside to drink some hot coffee and see how the preparations were going. Godric made a strong cup of coffee. One could smell it and be ready for a new day; that’s usually all most could stand without sputtering.

Today, however, there was no earthy aroma of it brewing. All Otto could smell was a hint of the stew they had eaten the night before - the husk of a beautiful, delicious dream.

The doctor peeked his head into Barlow’s room. The sprite was laying on his stomach, eyes closed and breath soft. Though they had been feeling better for the past day or so, Barlow’s nose frequently ran away with him, and was still very pink and sensitive. His upright ear twitched ever so slightly, but there was no sign of him stirring any time soon.

Severin, on the other hand, had fared much worse. Despite the many wet rags coating almost every inch of his febrile body, his breathing was still heavy and labored, and his eyes darted under closed eyelids. Bite marks covered cracking lips. Otto made sure they made little noise as they tiptoed from the doorway. Severin needed all the rest he could get.

Otto turned from his patients, a familiar heaviness weighing upon their heart. Such misery in what was supposed to be a warm season of reaping and feasting.

Perhaps it came back with them from market, or from the many travelers that take the nearby road into town. With how hard everyone had been working, and how many nights were left unslept…

Otto massaged the bridge of their nose, dashing from one possibility to the next, feeling more and more ashamed by how little they prepared, how stupid they must have been, how utterly selfish! They had been so busy with preparations that they had barely noticed that their journeymates were wasting away!

They could have done something. This was all their fault, wasn’t it? How could they be a healer if they couldn’t even keep the ones they loved safe?

Otto was roused from their guilt by the sound of harsh coughing. They peeked their head into the past two rooms, fearing that one of them had been awakened by their footsteps. However, both of them were still out cold. Or out warm, in Severin’s case.

No, the coughing wasn’t coming from their rooms, Otto realized. It was coming from the third bedroom - the one that they and Godric shared.

The door creaked open as Otto shuffled inside, already knowing the worst was yet to come.

“Doc? Is tha’ you?”

Godric was sitting up in bed, quilt wrapped around him, his chest heaving with another hacking fit. His cheeks were flushed with effort and fever. Otto went to his bedside, their heart dropping into their stomach.

“Real nice ‘a this cold to leave the healer last, eh?” the warrior joked before laying back down with a quiet groan.

Otto pushed the hair off Godric’s neck and felt his lymph nodes, which were not only hot, but terribly swollen.

“I can chop those few pieces ‘a wood, an’ then I’ll-”

“You are not getting out of this bed,” Otto said sternly. Then, with a kinder tone, “I know you want to finish your work, but you are very sick. You shouldn’t be out in the snow.”

“But how-”

“I will take care of it, cariño. Just rest.”

Godric opened his mouth to say something else, but just coughed and covered himself up with his quilt.

“Take care of yerself, doc,” he said before Otto went to check on the others. “There isn’t anythin’ I can’t do after I’m back on m’feet.”

***************

Between taking care of three sick creatures and the final preparations, Otto ran themselves ragged over the next few days. None of their friends were particularly hard to take care of - especially after Severin’s fever broke - but the heaviness of their heart continued to weigh upon them.

With no other options, they threw themselves into work.

If they chopped enough wood for an extra week, they chopped enough wood for two extra weeks. The larder was more than full. Their fingers and hands and back and everything else was sore, but they couldn’t stop for long without feeling their guilt gnaw away at them.

One frigid morning, Otto had taken to the axe, splitting wood and putting them in the shed to keep them dry. They had run out of pre-cut trunks a long time ago, so they started cutting sticks in half for kindling. Out of the corner of their eye, mid-swing, they saw a figure marching through the snow - lifting their foot high before stomping it down again with a crunch.

After a few minutes, Otto could finally see a pair of long ears fluttering in the cold wind.

“Barlow!”

The sprite grinned as he approached Otto, holding up a steaming container of something in his mittened hands.

“I got soup!” he called out, trying to move faster in the deep snow. “Godric felt a lot better today, so he wanted to try somethin’ new. It’s real good! Even Severin ate a whole bowl of it, so you know it’s gotta be great.”

Barlow sat next to the chopping block, and patted a mound of snow next to him. Otto sat down, wincing as their sore muscles twinged.

“Godric says we’re all packed up for winter,” Barlow continued as he handed Otto the food. “And we’ll even have stuff to eat in the spring, too.”

Otto didn’t answer, but tucked into the soup, not even blowing it off before putting the spoon in their mouth. Barlow thought for a little bit, then spoke again.

“Doc, Godric told me that we got more than enough food and wood to last through the winter. If you wanna come inside, we’ve got a checker game goin’…”

Otto didn’t respond, but they had started to shiver from the cold. Barlow took of his coat and draped it around Otto’s shoulders.

“C’mon, let’s get back. Everybody’s waitin’ for us.”

Barlow took Otto by the hand and pulled them up, then led them back towards the cottage. Otto trailed behind like a quivering lamb, both exhausted and numb. They couldn’t think of much else than putting one foot in front of the other.

When the pair finally got back to the cottage, a warm, cozy scene awaited them. Severin was on the couch, doing needlepoint with half-open eyes and content look on his face. Godric was above the stove, stirring a pot and putting one seasoning or another into it. The fire was blazing in a lovely orange hue that painted the scene with a beautiful glow.

While Barlow went right inside and was greeted by the others, Otto stood in the doorway, weary eyes closed, soaking up the light and warmth as much as they could.

“Doctor?”

Severin was up now, his quiet wisdom regained. Before Otto could answer, the sorcerer started to remove their soaked outer layers with quick fingers.

“If Barlow didn’t bring you here,” Severin said, “you would have worked yourself to a frozen skeleton.”

Otto suddenly jerked his head to the side.

“het’TCH! TCH! TCH’UH!”

“Many blessings, doctor.”

Severin smiled and tilted his head.

“Many, many blessings.”

Otto sniffled, rubbing their nose with stiff fingers.

“Nngh…gracias. Just a little…heh…htch’CHU!”

“Aye, I don’ like tha’ sound of that,” Godric rumbled from the kitchen, turning his head to see the sickly healer.

Otto waved their hand. “Just a li-hih-ttle sdiffle…”

“One that is long overdue, I think,” Severin said, putting the last of their wet things away.

Otto was ushered in front of the fire, still at the mercy of his nose. With each sneeze came a chorus of blessings and, if need be, another handkerchief.

“That’s a real nasty cold, huh?” Barlow commented after a particularly forceful fit. “Even I didn’t sneeze that much.”

As the day came to a close, the group all gathered on the couch, listening to the wind howling outside and treating themselves to Godric’s famous roast and sweet apple tea. Otto didn’t eat very much, but the hot tea soothed their sore throat.

“Tank you for taking such good care of be,” Otto snuffled.

Godric chuckled. “Ya care so much about us, doc. It only makes sense that we’s care an awful lot about you, ‘specially when ya aren’t feelin’ well.”

“And after you tended so well to us, may I add,” Severin said, leaning his head back.

“Yeah!” Barlow agreed, not exactly as good with words as the others, but still just as thankful.

Otto, overcome, buried their face in Godric’s side and began to cry, letting out everything that they had felt in the past few days. They wanted to stop, they wanted to explain, but it was lost in desperate sobs and hiccuping. Godric held them closer to him while the others offered quiet support until the doctor quieted.

“There ya go,” Godric said, putting a large hand on Otto’s head. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Filled with comfort and warm food, Otto quickly dozed off, and the others weren’t far behind. The only sounds were the falling of fresh snow, the crackling of the fireplace, and the snores of deep, contented sleep.

And, as winter finally settled into Harbinger Woods, they all settled down for their long winter’s rest.

******************

Not only do I want to dedicate this to @perfectpaperbluebirds , who gave me the prompt, but also @sneezytomatosquish , who has been feeling emotionally and physically under the weather lately. That may have changed by the time this fic is finished, but I shall gift it to you anyway. You are one of my favorite creators, but I want to create something for you for a change. You deserve it.

Get well soon!

[walkerismychoice]

Queen of My Heart - Chapter 36

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: NSFW (I didn’t intend it but it just happened

Summary: Liam finally clears the air with Constantine, and we go to the Fire and Ice Ball at Lythikos, the final social season even before Liam chooses his future Queen.

A/N: Umm, I don’t even want to know how many years it’s been since I updated, but it is with the encouragement of you readers that I was compelled to finish.  My tag list is probably way outdated and I’m sure I’ve missed some poeple who’ve asked to be tagged along the way. Feel free to let me know either way if you want to be tagged or removed from the list.

Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @jadedpixiescribbles @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14

Word Count: 2861

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

“Hello, Father.” Liam greeted Constantine as he walked into the hospital room. He noted the King's color was back to normal and he seemed in good spirits.

"My son, I knew you'd come!" Constantine reached towards Liam with arms outstretched.

Liam just shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. "This is not that kind of visit. I'm here because I know... I know everything."

"What-" Constantine choked out before a coughing fit ensued.

Liam fought the instinctual urge to comfort his father. "Enough with the theatrics. I know about Madeleine...about you threatening the show if they didn't help her win...as if me choosing the woman I plan to spend my life with is some political game to be won."

 "How did you find out? I gave strict orders that my demands were confidential."

Liam scoffed. "Seriously? I just told you I found out you tried to have the producers manipulate me into marrying a woman I don't love, and that's all you had to say for yourself?"

"You have to understand," Constantine pleaded. "Madeleine is what's best for Cordonia, and what's best for Cordonia is what's best for you."

"Unbelievable!" Liam felt the anger rising in his chest like a simmering pot ready to boil over. "You may have told yourself that to feel better about choosing your commitments to Cordonia over happiness, love, family... Maybe you’ve lied to yourself for so long you’ve actually started to believe it, but it's one hundred percent bullshit. I know I'll be a more effective leader if I get to choose the woman I want by my side, and that woman is Olivia."

Constantine's jaw dropped and there was a long pause before he gained his composure to protest. "Absolutely not. You know her family's history. I'd rather have you on the same page as me, but I am still King-"

"Save your breath," Liam shut him down. "You should know that your perfect candidate Madeleine has displayed some behavior quite unbecoming of a future queen, and it is all on film. I know Cordonians are generally flexible with their views on monogamy, but I don't think Madeleine sleeping with the host of the show while she's trying to compete for my affection will look good in anyone's eyes. She has been eliminated from the show and is no longer in the running. That leaves only Riley aside from Olivia, and I know you know what's going on there."

Constantine's face fell momentarily in resignation, but then he perked back up again. "Well, then you can bring back someone else. Kiara is quite lovely and is fit to play the part."

"Enough!" Liam practically shouted much too loud for the thin hospital walls. "Not that I owe you an explanation, but Olivia is stronger, smarter, and more capable of ruling a country than anyone you could hope to pair with me. You seem to forget that I am the son who stuck by you and am now the rightful and only heir to the throne. Your reign is coming to an end, and you have no choice but to accept my decision."

Unexpectedly, Constantine's demeanor changed, a sly grin creeping across his face. "My boy, I've always been a bit worried you were too soft to be king. However, seeing you stand up for yourself today gives me hope. I still don't approve of your choice, but I will no longer stand in your way."

Liam shook his head and let out an incredulous laugh, reeling from Constantine’s sudden change of course. "Bastien will take you back to the palace. We can talk more when I know it's not just the medicine that's gotten to your head."

-----

“Well, this place certainly explains a lot about Olivia.” Riley mused aloud as she scanned the ballroom. Ornate floor to ceiling windows with deep alcoves were surrounded by walls with intricate, gilded accents leading up to a hand-painted ceiling measuring at least 3 stories high. The grandeur of the space was both intimidating and beautiful at the same time, much like its owner.

“Has she shown you all the toys in her armory yet? That too says a lot about Olivia," Drake chuckled at his own joke.

Riley laughed along. “No, but she does constantly remind me she keeps a dagger hidden under her skirt. Are you sure Liam knows what he’s in for?”

"Heh. Better him than me, that's for sure. Liam's warm and fuzzy exterior can make him seem like a pushover, but he can hold his own when it matters. Olivia needs someone who can roll with her mood swings but still call her on her bullshit when needed."

"You know, I admit I had a little trouble wrapping my brain around Liam choosing Olivia, but when you put it that way, it makes sense. Now I suppose I need to find Kat so I can figure out if I need to dance with Liam or something. Ugh, I cannot wait until all these balls are over.

Drake almost doubled over laughing. "Oh, Bennett, I hate to break it to you, but this shit never ends. Next will be the coronation, then some charity gala, Liam's wedding...the list goes on. Welcome to your life as a noble woman."

Riley stared ahead blankly as a giant wave of realization washed over her. It was all so much, so fast. She'd never had time to think past the next day to consider this was all ending soon, and then what? Did she stay with her new-found family and live this life that was still foreign to her in so many ways? What about her life in New York? Sure, she didn't have much going on at the moment, but she still had her aunt Susan and best friend Sarah along with some good friends at work like Daniel. Becoming a therapist was still one of her goals, at least it was until the day she left for Cordonia. Now everything was so unclear, and she could hardly breathe.

Drake must have noticed her face looking some kind of way because he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to an open doorway to a nearby balcony. "Why don't we get you some air before you go off and do your thing for the show?"

Once outside and around the corner of the wraparound balcony, Drake pulled Riley into his chest, holding her securely, and she was almost instantly calmed. All the what-ifs fell away, and it was just them. All she needed was the be with him, wherever that turned out to be, and everything else would fall into place.

But what if Drake didn't quite feel the same? They'd been talking as if they'd be together indefinitely, but in reality, they'd only known each other two months. The anxious fluttering in her chest started up again.

Drake pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You know, we're both still half American. We can move back to the states....or uh, I mean you can move back to the states if that's what you want." His eyes darted bashfully to the ground.

Riley's face lit up, the nervous thumping in her chest giving way to excited butterflies. "I like the sound of 'we' better if that's what you really meant. You'd really move back to the U.S. with me? I mean I've hardly had the chance to think about what I want, so that may be irrelevant, but you seriously see a future with me?"

"I do." Drake smiled earnestly. "I'm sure anyone who knows me will think I've gone mad, but whether it means being in New York City and putting up with cramped apartments and way too many people, living a quieter, simple life in Texas, or stealing moments away at dreadful Cordonian events such as this, I know we can make our own happiness...together."

"Wow, the Drake Walker I met two months ago would not believe what's coming out of your mouth right now." Riley touched the back of her hand to Drake's forehead in jest. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"

"Haha, very funny." Drake swiftly but gently pushed Riley back again the stone wall. "I'm not feeling ill, but I know how to make your temperature rise.

"You pushing me against duchy walls is becoming a thing, huh? Must have really enjoyed the almost public sex last time."

"Possibly," Drake teased as he slipped his hand through the side-slit in her icy-blue gown, gently gliding his fingers up her thigh. Riley braced herself as Drake neared the place she wanted him the most. Goosebumps gave way to a burning need before she remembered where they were.

"Wait." She pushed a hand against his chest. "We're not exactly alone here, and we've gone to such lengths to keep this under wraps. Someone could walk out here at any moment."

Drake shrugged. "I know it may be a bit reckless, but honestly at this point, I don't care. I just want you."

Riley opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out before Drake swooped in for a searing kiss. She instantly melted into him, Drake continuing his earlier action and deftly plunging two fingers inside her, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he noticed there was no fabric barrier to work around. A strangled moan escaped Riley's throat as he stroked the exact spot he knew always left her at his mercy.

Drake pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Do you want me to stop? Just say the word and we'll go back in right now."

Instead of answering, Riley yanked him by the collar and crushed her lips to his. Drake responded by hoisting her up and over to the balcony. He perched her atop the railing, one hand grasped firmly around her waist and the other making quick work of undoing his pants.

Teetering on the narrow ledge two stories high, Riley clamped her hand tightly to the railing on either side of her and Drake noticed. "I've got you Bennett, no need to worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm just doing my job after all," he said with a smirk.

She smiled at his reference to what was now an inside joke between them. But all joking aside, he always made her feel safe. She released her grip, flinging her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

Drake eased his cock free and Riley could tell how hard he was just by sight, the skin stretched taught from his perfect proportion of thickness and length. He lifted her dress and she couldn't wait any longer. She pulled him in and he took the invitation to thrust inside her. Even as wet was she was, his size created just the right amount of fullness and friction to take her breath away.

Riley moaned and gasped with each thrust, which in turn seemed to turn Drake on even more. The thrill of being up so high with nothing but him to hold her only added to her excitement and when he began rubbing circles over her clit with his thumb that was all it took to push her figuratively over the edge. She tightened around him everywhere, her orgasm eliciting immense heat and pleasure with every pulse, resulting in Drake picking up his pace until his own release followed shortly thereafter.

Drake carefully set Riley down before putting himself back together. "I'm almost a little disappointed we didn't nearly get caught this time."

"If I don't get back in there immediately, that's still a possibility." Riley had no idea how much time had passed but it was probably more than she thought. "Fuck, Kat is going to be pissed." Riley straightened her skirt and started towards the ballroom door.

"Wait!" Drake puller her in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Just so you don't forget."

Riley rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know you have nothing to worry about. If Liam's charms haven't wooed me yet, I think you’re safe. But I love you too. Now go do your job." She smacked him on the ass before hustling back to the ballroom, Drake following shortly thereafter.

As expected, Kat was frantic when Riley found her. “Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to meet up with me twenty minutes ago?”

Overhearing Riley’s scolding, Olivia smugly sidled up next to them. “I mean, I didn’t mind getting extra time with Liam, but you know Jo and Kat and there ‘ratings’, Olivia said while gesturing with air quotes. She scanned Riley from head to toe and then glanced over to Drake on the perimeter. “Ugh, I can tell you exactly what, or rather who she was doing. Gross. I guess that just makes my position more secure, but really, couldn’t you have waited until after my ball to fuck him?”

Riley sheepishly smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I was having a moment.”

Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it. Although I still cannot fathom why you chose Drake, I suppose I should be a little easier on you for eliminating yourself from the competition and allowing Liam to break free of his distraction of the shiny new object.”

“Aww, Olivia, that’s so sweet. Next thing you know we’ll be best friends,” Riley replied sarcastically.

 “I don’t know about friends...but I do dislike you less than the rest of them.” Olivia tried and failed to hold back a smile.

“I’ll take it,” Riley said with a laugh before turning to Jo. “Okay, now tell me where I need to be.”

Jo set Riley up with Liam on the dance floor. It still wasn’t hard to pretend to be into Liam because it wasn’t all pretend, but there was no lingering pining between them.

“Well, I spoke to my father this morning.” Liam spun Riley around and brought her back to face him.

“Finally!” Riley exclaimed. “How did that go?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it to be completely honest, but it went surprisingly well. I told him I knew everything, and he no longer had a say in my decision. He tried to argue with me at first, but somehow something I said made him respect me. He still may not agree with my choice, but I think this is finally all over! I am free to choose who I want without any threat or blackmail hanging over my head.

Riley pulled Liam in and hugged him tightly. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, and for all of us.” The weight on Riley’s shoulders was suddenly ten times lighter. She hadn’t let herself think too deeply about how much was at stake, but now that the air was clear, she realized how stressed she had been. “Now all that’s left is for you to tear my heart to pieces on national television, and you get your fairy tale ending.”

Liam chuckled. “I’ll try to let you down easy.”

-----

Drake stood in his usual position off the side of the dance floor. This may not be the last of these events he’d have to endure, but at least it should be the last time he’d have to stand on the sidelines watching Riley dance with someone else. He was secure in what they had, but it still didn’t stop that twinge of jealously seeing her and Liam together talking, touching, and having fun. But it wasn’t a bad thing that his best friend and girlfriend get along so well. Girlfriend...that’s the first time he’d used that term for anyone he’d “dated”, even if only in his head. It was hard to believe everything was falling into place.

Drake took his eyes off Riley to scan the perimeter. What he saw didn’t immediately register as out of the ordinary, but then he quickly recalled this person walking towards the dance floor wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Bastien, check out three o’clock.” Drake altered Bastien via his radio earpiece. “How did she get in here without security clearance?”

“I don’t know.” Bastien replied. “I’ll check with the other guys to see who let her in. Keep an eye on her.”

Drake watched in concern as Madeleine marched towards the dance floor. She’d been banned from the rest of filmed events after her stunt. Not wanting to let her cause a scene, Drake was about to stop her from getting any closer, when she pulled out an unmistakable object. She had a gun and it was pointed right at Riley and Liam.

Before Drake could alert the rest of the team, people started to scatter. He heard a familiar click and knew he had to disarm Madeleine immediately, but it was too late. A shot went off and he didn’t hesitate. Drake dove between the bullet and his two best friends on the dance floor, and that would be the last thing he remembered before he hit the floor.

[eternally-writing]

chain reaction | jjk

genre: fluff and angst

rating: PG

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series

word count: 1.3k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember.

banner by me!

A/N: hey everyone! This is my first series that I’m writing and I’m so excited to share it with all of you! If you want to be tagged in future parts, reblog and mention that you want to be tagged in the caption, or you can send me an ask!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

“You’re late”

Swinging your backpack onto the lab bench beside you, you glare at your lab partner.

“Shut up Jeon, it’s only 8:04am and our TA hasn’t even finished introducing the lab yet”.

Introduction to Organic Chemistry was all set up to be your favorite class. You were a chemistry genius in high school, your professor had amazing “rate my professor” reviews, and the class fit perfectly into your schedule, finishing right at 2:00pm so you could walk back to your dorm under the radiance of the afternoon sun.

It was all going well until you walked into your 8:00AM lab and found that due to budget cuts, all labs would now be done in pairs. And you had been paired with none other than the bane of your existence, Jeon Jungkook. As if doing an amide reduction wasn’t hard enough on its own, you had to do it alongside the biggest thorn in your side.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what it was about him that irked you so much. Maybe it was the way the girls tried to flirt with his constantly over the open flame of a Bunsen burner, or the way that he sucks up to your extremely old TA in order to get full marks on his procedural skills, or maybe it’s the fact that he somehow managed to look effortlessly put together at 8am on a Tuesday morning, while you looked (and felt) like absolute crap.

Either way, you were counting down the seconds until this semester would be over and you wouldn’t have to look at Jeon Jungkook again, but time seemed to be moving extra slow today.

“Late and spacing out today? Wow, lucky me to have you as a lab partner.”

Scoffing at him, you adjusted your protective glasses and readied your labware for today.

“180 minutes until I’m free. That’s it,” you thought to yourself.

“Technically it’s 170 minutes now, but if we don’t get started someone soon so we can hand in our product by 11am, we’re going to be here for a lot longer than that.”, snapped Jungkook next to you, already starting to mix chemicals together in a beaker.

Well, looks like your habit of accidentally saying things out loud gets worse when you’re tired.

“Let’s just try and get through this lab today without stepping on each other’s toes Jeon, okay?” you said, trying to catch up to Jungkook in the lab.

There was one part of chemistry labs you disliked the most. The waiting time. In some labs it was only 30 minutes, while in other labs it had taken almost an hour, but the constant in all of the situations was that waiting made it feel like time was passing at an infinitely slower rate. Taking out your laptop would violate lab safety protocol, and you couldn’t do any further steps in your lab until your reaction in your solution was done progressing under the fume hood. Since there were no other options, the only other thing left to do in moments like this was talk to Jeon Jungkook.

“So I was -”

“What did you -”

Yikes, add the awkwardness of starting conversation with Jeon Jungkook to the reasons you never talk to him.  You decided to pause and let him carry on with whatever he was saying, giving him a semi-pleasant smile to hopefully help distract from the embarrassment you were feeling.

“I was going to ask what you wanted to do our lab presentation on,” said Jungkook.

Your eyes widened at his statement. Looking at the whiteboard situated at the side of the room, you saw that in the 4 minutes you were late to your lab you may not have missed your TA explaining the procedure, but you did the big words on the board that said:

“FINAL LAB PRESENTATION: 3 weeks from now, worth 20% of your grade, done with your lab. 5-10 page paper and 10-15 minute oral presentation”.

Unable to contain your discontentment with the situation, you let out a groan and leaned back in your chair in frustration, almost falling off your lab stool in the process.

“Well aren’t you just little Miss Sunshine today? I’m not thrilled about this either, but I’d rather pull out my eyelashes than have to repeat this course again next semester,” scoffed Jungkook.

No morning ice coffee + Jeon Jungkook being annoying + a looming group project was more enough to make your head hurt.

“Can we just talk about this later Jeon? My brain can’t process this right now,” you pleaded as you put your head in your hands.

Leaning closer to you, Jungkook spoke at a whisper-level near your ear so nobody else would hear.

“Is your brain too busy processing my charm, sunshine? Don’t worry, I’ll try and tone down the charisma for you,” he joked with a smirk.

Your head went from being in your hands to plopping flat onto your (no longer sterile) lab counter at Jungkook’s comment.

First of all, ew. You don’t know how Jungkook was possibly picking up girls by talking like that. Second of all, charm and charisma were probably two words that you would NEVER associate with Jungkook, so his statement was definitely wrong.

A project with Jungkook meant that you would be spending a LOT more time with him, and the prospect of that happening made you wince internally. Group projects meant libraries, evenings, and , ugh, probably weekends with Jeon Jungkook.

You were snapped out of your internal despair by the sound of Jungkook’s voice.

“Hand me your phone.”

You froze. “Hm?”

“Well I don’t know what you think of me Y/N, but unless you think I can read your mind we’re  going to need to text to figure out when to meet.”

Giving in, you quickly tossed your phone into his open palm while grabbing his phone which was sitting on top of his backpack.

Glancing over his shoulder, you took a peek at your contact name.

“little miss sunshine? really Jeon?”

“Of course sunshine, i had to pick a name that encapsulated your positive and radiant energy,” he retorted, sarcasm practically dripping off of his words.

You definitely were picking your battles today, and one over a silly contact name didn’t seem to be worth it.

“You can do whatever, Jeon, but you’re sticking in my phone as “Jeon Boy” and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“We’ll see about that Y/N,” remarked Jungkook as he opened up his lab manual to read the next steps in the procedure.

Your mom had always taught you that the word “hate” was a very strong word and was only to be used in extreme situations. To this day, there were only 3 people in your life that you truly hated in every sense of the word: your ex-boyfriend, Jimin, your ENGL 101 Professor, Dr.Lee, and your neighbor’s cat, Mr. Whiskers, who chewed up your grade 8 science project the day before it was due.

You wouldn’t say that you hate Jungkook, but you were definitely getting close.

“Yknow, I don’t like you Jeon. Actually, scratch that, I really don’t like you.”

Glancing over at the timer on your lab bench finally reaching 0:00, Jungkook began walking over to the fume hood. Turning back to you, he smirked and started to speak.

“Well, the feeling’s mutual sunshine.”

Boy, this was definitely going to be a long semester.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

If you want to be tagged in future parts, reblog and mention that you want to be tagged in the caption (or you can send me an ask)!

If you liked what you read, please write/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

[elisaphoenix13]

Malibu Vacation

Waves crashing, salty sea air that sent a light breeze over him, his kids laughing and talking...and one of them gurgling nearby. It was a change in scenery they all desperately needed, as well as the warmer weather. Every once in a while a furry tail would brush against his leg since Athena laid next to him as he dozed on the cabana bed. Of course Tony had one on their private beach. They weren't much for sticking their toes in the sand but they did so every once in a while. More likely than not to indulge their children.

"Juice?"

Stephen opens his eyes and looks to the side to find Valerie standing next to his bed in her one piece light blue bathing suit and her feet covered in sand. She smiles and lightly pats Athena's head who yawns and wags her tail a little faster as Stephen sits up. Before the sorcerer could wonder why Valerie was disturbing him instead of Tony (besides the obvious), he looked over and found him busy with Lucy.

Diaper change.

Better Tony than him.

"What kind of juice darling?" Stephen asks as he gets up and walks over to the ice chest.

"Apple."

The sorcerer digs through the ice chest as quickly as possible to fish out the box of apple juice and then closes it. The less time his hands were in ice, the better. Fortunately they didn't flare up in pain from the cold exposure and he was even able to stick the straw in the box for Valerie before giving it to her. She thanks him softly as she sits on the steps and Stephen stands next to her to look out at the other kids. Thomas and William were helping Diana build a sandcastle, and Harley and Peter were in the middle of a splash war with Cassie. She asked if she could join them when they went to Malibu and of course he and Tony said yes. Cassie even made the joke that it would give her parents time to get some of their...horniness out of their systems.

Tony laughed and told her that was impossible.

"Think it's about time to head back to the house?" Tony asks as he stands next to Stephen and wraps his free arm around his waist.

"Probably best. Peter and Thomas will be complaining that they're hungry soon." Stephen nods and closes his eyes when his husband kisses his temple. "I think I'll order pizza. It's a little too hot to cook and I'm feeling lazy."

Tony laughs. "As you wish, Duchess." He gently takes Lucy's hand when it reaches for his sunglasses. "No Lulu. I still have to order more. I have no idea what you do with them once you get a hold of them."

"Maybe she eats them." Stephen laughs and looks back at the other kids. "Time to call it a day!" He calls out.

"Up." Valerie says and holds her arms up to Stephen and he picks her up.

The rest of the kids grab their things and follow Tony and Stephen back to the mansion. The moment they get inside, Stephen carries Valerie up the stairs while Tony puts Lucy in her swing. The kids were told to shower to try and get as much sand off as possible, and Stephen got Valerie in the bath. It didn't take too long, but they still had to take turns, and by the time they were all going back downstairs, the pizza had arrived.

"Ugh. I think I still have some sand on my--"

"Harley!" William interrupts with a blush.

"You could have helped you know." Harley waggles his eyebrows and William pushes his face away.

"You're going to ruin everyone's appetites. No one wants to hear about that." Peter makes a face of disgust before shoving a slice of pizza into his mouth.

"At least leave that talk for when there aren't small ears around and your parents can't hear you." Stephen says and puts their drinks on the table.

"Don't worry honey, we'll be getting our own later." Tony winks and Cassie makes a face.

"You know I was trying to get away from that." She groans. "You know I have to cover my eyes every time I open a door?"

Tony cackles. "The laundry room too?"

"Especially the laundry room! I'm going to start banning certain activities in certain rooms!"

"What? You mean you haven't yet?" Stephen asks with a snort.

"I love my dads. Unfortunately the only time they don't act like adults is when they have 'fun'." Cassie then shrugs. "I don't really mind all that much to be honest. They deserve to destress however they can with all they do."

"So do we." Tony says.

They all nod in agreement and finish their dinner, and Harley and Thomas do the dishes while Peter and William clean up the table. Cassie takes Diana to the living room after grabbing some things from the newly minted craft room which used to be Tony's rarely used office, and Stephen walks over to the piano once Valerie's hands are wiped clean. He hardly had time to play with how busy he always was, but he tried to use the piano back in New York to help improve movement in his fingers. It was sometimes a little painful to play, but he missed it so much that he powered through any pain he may have.

Today was not one of those days. His pain was always there but it was minimal when he sat on the bench and opened the fallboard. Stephen was able to play with no problem and he enjoyed the music that filled the air. He did look over in surprise when Valerie crawled up on the bench next to him and watched intently as he played. She even gave in to her curiosity and reached out to play a few notes herself and Stephen chuckles.

"Do you want to play too?" He asks and she nods.

Stephen showed her as much as he could in a way that a two year old would understand and eventually they stopped playing and Valerie looked behind them at the indoor pond. It was a lot like the indoor waterfall Tony had in the previous floorplan years ago but he made some adjustments so they could have a koi pond at the bottom of the waterfall. Valerie loved feeding the fish whenever they came to Malibu, and of course Tony thought of the children's safety so there was a feature that Friday activated in case a baby got too close without supervision. He also built an automatic feeder for when they weren't there and someone only had to come every once in a while to refill it.

"Go find Daddy and see where he put the food." Stephen smiles as Valerie climbs down from the bench and runs off to find Tony.

While he waits, Stephen closes the fallboard and gets up to stand next to the pond where Athena joins him. She sits next to him and watches the fish with him and rumbles happily when he pets her head.

"Are you done nannying the cubs?" He jokes and she wuffs in response. "Did you clean Lucy's ears?" Another wuff. "That's not sanitary you know."

"Mama!" Valerie runs back over to him with a bag of fish food. "Fish eat?"

"Yes. Just like I showed you."

He sits on the edge of the pond and she hands him the bag of food so she can take out a handful while he holds it. Valerie turns to face the pond and tosses the handful of food into it and she giggles when the koi swim around frantically to eat it. Stephen decided she was ready to try something new and carefully poured some more food into her hand.

"Don't throw this. Here." He gently leads her hand toward the water and smiles when she whines nervously. "It's okay. They won't hurt you."

Once the fish realize that Valerie is holding the food, they all gather around her hand and eat straight out of it.

"Tickles!" She giggles again.

When the fish finish and start swimming away, Stephen closes the bag and hands it to Valerie after having her dry her hands. "Go take that back to Daddy so we can feed them tomorrow."

"Kay. 'Thena! Come!" She walks away and Athena follows dutifully much to Stephen's amusement.

"Don't worry Duchess. She'll be back to warm your feet tonight like always." Tony chuckles as he takes the bag of fish food from Valerie when she holds it up.

"I'm not worried." Stephen rolls his eyes and gets up to join Tony at the couch when he sits after putting the bag away and watches Cassie and Diana with their crafts.

More like hobbies. Diana was painting on a small canvas and Cassie was embroidering. Stephen didn't know why Diana wasn't painting in the craft room but he figured since they had put some plastic on the floor as a precaution, he wasn't going to say anything.

"You're improving." Tony compliments and throws an arm around Stephen's shoulders. "I remember when you stumbled. Now it's like your hands don't tremble."

Stephen smiles. "I think part of that has to do with the fact that I'm having a good day."

"I've heard you play on a not so good day. You're still playing great."

"It's true." Peter says as he sits on Tony's other side eating an apple.

"Are you eating again?!" Cassie asks.

"It's just an apple. Pre-dessert." Peter grins.

"He eats like a hobbit." Thomas laughs.

"So do you." William says and Thomas sticks his tongue out.

"This family alone eats like a small army." Stephen huffs.

"This family is a small army Mom." Harley points out.

He had a point.

"Maybe you boys should take a page out of the girls book and try crafting something." Tony says.

"Hey, I have my Legos." Peter says. "Speaking of, I have a new model to build." He tosses his apple core in the trash on his way to the stairs.

Harley and the twins shrug and walk into the craft room to find something to do and Stephen looks over at Lucy when she starts babbling and playing with her plastic keys. They were her favorite toy since she liked swinging things around that made noise. She even liked her little activity chair with the toys built in. If she wasn't "helping" Tony in the lab, she was in the chair. Now she was in the swing. It was a way to help her wind down and get ready for bed later.

"Telling a story there Lulu?" Tony asks and the baby looks up at him as she drools on the keys she put in her mouth.

"Bah!" She responds loudly and tosses her keys with surprising force.

They land with a splat in Diana's paint, sending splotches of it everywhere and making Tony laugh. Both Cassie and Diana were covered in reds, yellows, and greens and they sat in surprise until Diana finally sighed heavily and used her magic to clean up the mess.

"I think we found our pitcher." Tony laughs.

"Here Daddy." Diana holds out the plastic keys and he takes them as he gets up. "It's a good thing I can rewind time."

"Yeah, well, you know you have to be careful with that--" he replies but Diana sighs dramatically.

"I know. Mommy and Uncle Wong tell me all the time!"

"We do." Stephen confirms as Tony walks over and retrieves Lucy from her swing.

"We still need one more kid to make a baseball team." Cassie says as she works on her embroidery. "Unless the Barton's come over."

Tony smirks. "Just give Mom a little longer. He's already jealous that Lucy likes me more. His baby fever will kick in soon enough."

"Yeah, probably." Cassie shrugs and Stephen gapes.

"Don't agree with him! You're grounded!"

"From what exactly?"

Stephen stares at her for a few seconds and finally gets up.

"I'm getting my sling ring. I'm sending you back home to your parents."

Cassie's eyes widened. "Oh my god! Please, no! Last time I went home unannounced, I saw more of Papa than I wanted to!"

"Now you know how I feel!" Peter yells from upstairs and Tony bursts into laughter.

"I completely forgot about that."

[getsojaded]

chemistry || calum hood

word count: 3.8k+

warnings: mentions of weed, swear words, mention of injury, food & the slightest bit of sex talk

a/n: hey twt moots ;)) anyways, this is inspired by this post! i hope u all enjoy <3

-

It was about 11 pm, and I had just finished taking an unnecessarily large amount of notes for chemistry class. With a sore, shaky hand and a vision that was starting to go blurry, I had finally finished ten pages. Who knew that there was so much information about 5 organic compounds?

I yawned in my seat, stretching my arms out and removing my glasses. I was more than thankful that I can call it a night, and walked towards my bathroom to get ready for bed, which took a good 30 minutes. It usually doesn’t take me that long, but fuck, I was exhausted this whole day. After all my skincare was completed, I walked back to my bedroom and hopped into my bed, prepared for a well deserved rest. After slouching for a good three and a half hours, comforter and pillows had never felt so good against my body. 

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard a loud ding! from my phone and I opened my heavy eyes, which immediately annoyed me. I ignored the first one and tried to go back to sleep, but one ding turned into six and I couldn’t take it anymore. I angrily ripped the covers off my body, sitting up right after reaching for my phone on the nightstand beside my bed.

6 New Text Messages from: calum hood

hey wyd rn

can you do me a favour

i need your help

im at this party right now and i’m about to get high as fuck but i forgot about our homework for tomorrow and i was wondering if you could do them for me

you don’t even need to make them look pretty like how you do it just take down the important shit

please

“What the fuck?” I whsipered to myself as I looked at my phone. “Who does this bitch think he is?”

to: calum hood

are you fucking serious right now

from: calum hood

please i’m really sorry LOL i completely forgot about it

i know your smarty pants finished it the second you got home please

i’ll literally buy you starbucks tomorrow morning

As much as I hated to admit it, his last text message kind of convinced me. I was a sucker for coffee, and could really stop spending money on it every morning. But was I really about to lose some more sleep just to do the party boy’s notes? I barely know this kid anyways. How’d this guy even get into college? 

to: calum hood

is it gonna be a venti

from: calum hood:

if that’s what you want, sure

I knew I was going to regret this decision, but I threw on my glasses and put my hair up once again, walking towards my desk. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I sighed out, opening my laptop and gathering my supplies together. I unlocked my phone, seeing that the time was 12 am. Am I doing this for coffee or am I doing this because he’s attractive and I couldn’t really say no to him? I groaned and leaned my head on my desk, texting him back.

to: calum hood

i hate you so much

get me a venti iced white mocha no whip and an extra espresso shot

actually no make that two extra espresso shots cause bc of your dumbass im staying up 

from: calum hood

i gotchu angel

thank you so much, see you tomorrow :)

“Fuck off with the petname and the smiley face,” I angrily cursed at my phone, picking up my pencil and beginning to write another ten pages of notes. 

“I hate this bitch,” I said, throwing my pencil onto my desk and slamming my laptop shut. The time was now 3:45 am and tired was an understatement for me. I crawled into bed, falling asleep almost immediatly, hoping that these 5 hours of sleep will give me enough energy to get through class tomorrow.

-

“You have got to be fucking joking me,” I mumbled, reaching over for my phone to turn off the alarm. I was definitely not a morning person, and the fact that I didn’t get at least 7 hours of sleep meant that I was not going to be in a good mood today.

I slowly crawled out of bed and began trudging towards my bathroom, seeing I had gotten a text meesage from the man himself. I rolled my eyes seeing his name pop up, opening the conversation between him and I.

from: calum hood

goodmorning!

to: calum hood

fuck off

I set my phone aside, getting ready for bed in the slowest way possible. I honestly could care less about what I looked like today, so I decided on a hoodie and sweatpants. I went back into my room and packed my bag with everything I needed, including Calum’s stupid study notes. I threw it over my shoulder, putting on my shoes and walking out the front door, into my car. Thankfully my college was not too far from my apartment, so it didn’t matter if I was running a couple of minutes late.

Parking my car and walking towards class, more and more annoyance filled my body, hoping that nobody would say a word to me, or even better, look in my direction. As I walked into the classroom, I walked towards the empty seats in the very back, choosing the one closest to the wall. I got settled into my seat, leaning the side of my head against the wall, hoping that I’d get the tiniest bit of extra rest.

“The last text message you sent to me wasn’t very nice.” I heard a voice beside me say. I opened my eyes and looked up, seeing the stupid Calum Hood. He was holding two cups of coffee - one for me, and one for him I’m assuming - and was wearing a maroon hoodie, which he actually looked really good in.

“I don’t think you deserve to have a nice goodmorning text, because you are the reason I’m in a pissy mood today, thank you very much.” I responded, taking my coffee from his hand and placing it on my desk. I reached into my bag and took the study notes I wrote for him, slapping it onto the desk beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as our professor began to speak up, indicating that class had begun. “What can I do in order for you not to be mad at me?” I turned to look at him. He had the biggest pouty face I had ever seen, which was absolutely adorable. But I’d never tell him that.

“Just shut up.” I sighed, turning back towards the board, opening my notebook and beginning to take notes. 

Not even ten minutes later, a green sticky note caught my eye as I was writing. My eyes gazed towards the sticky note, scoffing at what was written on it.

Pls forgive me :(

I turned towards Calum, who was currently well focused on the board in front of us. I lightly chuckled, knowing he was more than pretending to actually pay attention in this class.

I thought I told you to shut up, I wrote underneath his writing and stuck it back onto his desk, and continued from where I left off. I got maybe 5 words in before I saw the neon green appear back onto my desk. I can’t shut up if I’m not talking.

I rolled my eyes before crumbling the paper in my hand, looking at Calum once again. “You’re distracting me. What do you want?” I asked him, the brunette boy turning his head to me once again. 

“For you not to be mad at me.” He responded. “What can I do for you to at least smile at me? Besides telling me to shut up.” 

I stared at him with the bitchiest face I could put on, then rolled my eyes and began to take down more notes in my book. First, he makes me write ten pages for him and now he’s distracting me in class. Can he leave me alone for at least five minutes? 

“And now you’re not gonna talk to me. Fine, be that way.” He grunted. The two of went back to what to we were doing for the remainder of class.

-

“That’s all for today folks, I hope you have a good rest of your day and don’t forget to read pages thirty to thirty-five and finish questions one to twenty-seven.” Our professor said to all of the class, which resulted in me grabbing my bag and standing up immediately, wanting nothing more than to just get the fuck out of this place.

Please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me-

“Hey wait,” Calum said and grabbed my hand. 

Fuck

“Yes?” I asked him, turning my body towards him as he let go of my hand. 

“What’re you doing the rest of the day?” 

“Nothing, why..?”

I saw that Calum had the cheekiest grin on his face after I gave him my answer. “As an apology for making you write down my notes, thank you very much by the way, along with making you angry this whole morning, how about we go get breakfast on me, and we can do our homework together, except I will do all the work, and you just copy my answers? How does that sound?”

I thought about it. One part of me just wanted to flip him off, go back home and get the sleep I missed out on last night. The other part of me was actually kind of down for that idea. Free food, free homework answers and I get to hang out with pretty boy? I wasn’t really losing anything here, huh? 

“I mean, I would say yes, but I took my car here and also I’m dressed terribly right now, the last thing I need is for more people to see me looking like this..” I trailed off, looking down at my current outfit and laughing lightly. “Babe, you don’t even look bad whatsoever right now. However, if you insist, you can go home and change and I can come get you when you’re ready. Is that a plan?” He asked in response. First angel, now babe? What is this guy doing?

“I mean.. I could do that...but-” “Pleeaaasee?” Calum cut me off, pressing his hands together, acting as if he was praying. 

“Ugh, fine, I’ll go with you! I’ll go home and get ready, and I’ll text you when I’m done.” I responded as the both of us walked out of the classroom, towards the parking lot. 

“Pinky promise you won’t cancel on me last minute?” Calum asked, extending his arm and putting his pinky in front of me as we reached my car. I hadn’t even noticed that he walked me to my car, which honestly made my heart flutter when I realized. 

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed lightly, taking my pinky and sticking it out with his, interlocking it. “Pinky promises mean everything, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” He responded, winking at me then walking away. Getting into my car, I hit my steering wheel, squealing while I repeatedly hit my head against my wheel. “Fuckin’ angel, babe and sweetheart?! What’s next?” I asked myself, driving back to my place to get ready for this little study.. session? Hang out? Date? 

I never noticed how nervous I was to hang out with Calum until four different outfits were placed on my bed, with no ability to choose which one looked best. “Fuck, these are all terrible.” I groaned, flopping onto my bed and closing my eyes. I was interrupted by my phone ringing, seeing that Calum was calling.

“I know you pinky promised that you wouldn’t cancel on me, but angel what is taking so long?” He asked, laughing into his question. “I’m so sorry,” I groaned, getting back up and looking at the outfits I planned on my bed. “I’m having a little wardrobe crisis. I have zero idea what to wear.”

“You could’ve showed up in the hoodie and sweatpants and I’d still find you gorgeous,” He responded, making my heart flutter for what felt like the hundreth time today. This man throws small compliments left and right and it’s kind of driving me crazy. “But lemme see what you got planned out. I’ll make it easier for you.” I responded with an okay, quickly snapping a photo of the clothes that were currently on my bed. 

“Okay first off, none of these are bad at all. I think you could’ve chose any of these and rocked all of ‘em. Second, little shirt big pants is always the way to go. I say the second one.” He told me, choosing a white long sleeved shirt and the baggiest light wash jeans I had in my closet. It might’ve been basic, but Calum was right - you really can’t go wrong with a little shirt big pants combination. 

“Okay, thank you.” I sighed in relief, taking the clothes into my hands and walking into the washroom to change. “You can come now, I’ll text you my address. I’ll probably be done by the time you get here.” 

“Now was that so hard?” He asked in response, causing the both of us to laugh. “I’ll see you in a bit. Bye bye!” 

“Bye Calum, see you later.” And with that the call ended. I quickly changed into my clothes, put my laptop in my bag - along with everything else I needed - and slipped my shoes on. Once I finished doing so, I heard a loud honk outside, indicating that he was outside. 

Walking out of my house I saw Calum exiting his seat, walking over to the other side and opening the door for me. “Wow, what a gentleman.” I laughed as he closed my door and got into the drivers’ side once again. “You look great.” He told me, his eyes focused on my outfit. “All thanks to you.” I said nervously, as he started the car. “Where are we going again?” I asked him. 

“You can never go wrong with IHOP,”  He said proudly, with a wide grin on his face. “How’d you know I loved going there?” I asked him, gaining a chuckle from him in response. “Not sure if you knew this, but I’m a mindreader.” He joked, causing me to roll my eyes and laugh in response. 

Arriving at the place and ordering our food, Calum and I began to have a little conversation. It started off with an are you still mad at me? which resulted into talks about other classes, finals and parties. 

“You’re telling me you’ve never been to a party?” He asked in shock, me shaking my head as I took a sip of the water that was given to me. “Are you kidding me? We’ve been in college for what, two years, and you’ve never been to one?!”

“Yeah, in case you didn’t notice, I go to school to learn and not to party. I don’t ask people to take ten pages of notes for me so I could blaze up, unlike somebody I know,” I responded, Calum looking at me in disbelief. “I cannot believe you just called me out like that. I said I was sorry!” 

“Yeah yeah, I know. You’re making up for it with free food and free homework answers, so I decided to get over it.” I responded, laughing. “Also, when are we gonna start doing the questions?” I asked as the waiter came with both of our plates of food, thanking them as we began to eat. 

“I mean, we could go back to my place and work on it, if that’s alright with you.” Calum said, his mouth full of pancakes. “Is that your way of trying to get in my pants?” I asked jokingly. 

“You’re a fiesty one aren’t you?” He asked, with a simple nod from me in response. “Well to answer your question, no that is not my way of doing such a thing, I’d be much more smooth about it.” 

“Oh, so you think you’re slick or something?” “Nah babe, I know I’m slick.” There’s the cocky party boy that I was much more familiar with. I rolled my eyes in response.

“I’m gonna ignore what you just said.. Anyways, I am fine with working on it at your place.” I told him, getting a nod in response. Throughout the whole breakfast, we got to know each other quite well. I learned that he played soccer in highschool, but due to a torn ACL he had to quit. But because of that, he got into music and started playing the guitar. I told him that if there’s enough free time when we finished, he should play me something. He happily agreed to it, saying that I will fall in love with him after I hear his singing. I just roll my eyes at his cocky compliments about himself. 

I also got to hear his totally wild college parties that he goes to, telling me about this one time one of his friends’ houses got shut down due to the various noise complaints from neighbours down the block. “you should come join me in one”, He offers, with a “fuck no” in response from me. 

“C’mon, they’re not that bad. They’re actually really fun, and everybody’s always so nice.” 

“I literally can’t tell you the last time I got high, and the last time I got drunk it was not pretty, I’m retired from that shit.” I said, as he paid for our food and began walking back to his car.

“Oh, so you used to be rowdy?” He asked, the two of us laughing in unison. “High school me was a different story, we don’t talk about that.” I responded. “The things I would do to see that side of you. You gotta go to at least one before you get outta this place. They take a lot of stress off your shoulders for the night.” He told me as we walked towards the front door to his place, which made me laugh at the fact that he tried to make parties seem like a really good thing. A simple Maybe, was all I responded with as we got settled into his apartment, which was fairly clean to my surprise. 

We were currently sitting across each other at his dining table, the both of us reading over the textbook and him answering the questions after every section. He worked effeciently, which also took me by surprise. I underestimated this guy a lot, didn’t I?

A good two hours later, Calum had finished all the questions for homework and I had finished copying them down, thanking him for doing such a thing.

“It’s no problem. I had no idea that the notes were ten fucking pages long, you deserve a break after that- wait, you wear glasses?” He asked me, analyzing them.

“Yeah, only at home though. I don’t really like how they look on me,” I replied, taking them off and rubbing my eyes. He took them in his hands and put them back on me, smiling. “They look really cute on you, I like them.” He said, causing me to blush. “What’re you so flirty for?” I asked. Keep these compliments up and I might just fall in love with you before you even sing, I thought to myself.

“Well, with somebody as pretty as you, I gotta slip in a flirty remark every chance I get, eh?” He smirked, taking my hand, and taking the both of upstairs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, my guitars in my room.” He reassured me as we walked inside his room. He took the guitar from the side of his room, and sat on the edge of his bed, gesturing me to sit down next to him.

“Ready to fall in love with me?”

“Try me, Hood.” 

He chuckled, playing the intro to Sam Smith’s Leave Your Lover. “Holy shit, I love this song,” I whispered, watching his hands strum the guitar.

He began to sing, immediately amazed by his voice. It was so soft and raspy, I literally could listen to it all day. I closed my eyes, leaning my head on his shoulder. He laughed softly when he noticed, continuing on with the song. 

He finished playing the outro, which caused me to open my eyes and look up at him. “So, how was that?” 

“It was beautiful, your voice is so pretty.” I responded, smiling at him. “You should drop outta this whole college thing and just become famous.”

“Oh man I wish, but I think it’s too late for that.” He told me, now leaning on my shoulder, which made me want to scream and kiss him. “Did you fall in love with me yet?”

I patted his cheek with my hand lightly. “Not yet Cal, not yet. Stil kinda angry about that whole ten pages of notes thing.” 

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nah.”

He laughed, then took my hand and intertwined it with his, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. “What if I told you I’d be down to do this again, minus the whole ‘let me do this for you today as an apology’ thing?” He questioned, lifting his head from my shoulder and looking at me.

“What do you mean, ‘this again’?”

“I mean picking you up with a coffee before class, bothering you the whole time, getting breakfast with you afterwards, studying together, and then playing a song for you once we get too lazy to finish our assignments.” He replied with a soft smile that made my heart warm and my cheeks red.

“And what if I told you that I’d be down to do those things aswell?” 

“Well then my love, I will pick you up on Wednesday at 8:15 with a venti iced white mocha with only one extra shot of espresso, because I won’t keep you up to write more notes. After class, I’ll take us to any place you wanna go. Denny’s? IHOP? Waffle House? You name it. Then, we can go back to my place, study our asses off and then I can play you as many songs as you’d like. How does that sound?” He offered, the biggest smile appearing on my face.

“That sounds perfect.”

“Now if we’re going to be doing this... does this mean I can finally take you to a damn party?”

“Fuck off, Hood.”

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Seven

Ao3,   Masterpost,  C.1   C.2   C.3   C.4   C.5   C.6

Relationships: eventual queer-platonic intruality, platonic dlampr.

okay. so. last time we heard anything out of me was *New Years*, Literally, and maybe i should’ve mentioned that I was taking a little hiatus, but oh well. i’m back now and i’m gonna post the last three chapters of this fanfiction as soon as I possibly can (so probably like all of them will be up by tmrw at the latest!!) to make up for my absence. but jokes on you, cuz I did actually finish this thing!!! >:P 

(oh yeah, and there are no italics, thanks to tumblr’s copy/paste bulls//t. i continue to be lazy :3 if anything sounds stilted just imagine that theres an italicized word there and yeah.)

Warnings: cursing, sexual innuendo, discussions of sexuality, misunderstandings, Emotional Conversations, sharing a bed, mild body horror (remus’ existence lol), stress, h/c. 

Word count: 7,967

The hallway was cold, and dark. It had been long-since abandoned of any life, with every door shut and each light dimmed- even Virgil’s. That day- the day of the meeting- had exhausted everyone enough to send them right to sleep mode. 

Everyone except Remus and Patton.

Their heart-to-heart in the kitchen had dragged on a little longer than either had expected, letting night descend fully over the Mindpalace. Patton was the one to notice the time eventually, and drag his less-than-restful friend up the stairs with him- he could tell that the other was dead tired, though. His stubborn determination not to end the conversation didn’t sit well, but Patton couldn’t think what to make of it, and they really did need some sleep. 

They reached Patton’s door first. He stopped in front of it, when Remus tugged his hand back insistently. He turned to him, letting out a confused hum, and was met with a scowl and a sigh.

Remus was looking even more resigned than he had when they first started talking that night. Patton waited, worried. 

“This isn’t, um,” Remus exhaled, ragged around the edges. “This isn’t a pick-up line, okay, and I know that it’ll sound that way and I know that it’s me but. I really don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

Oh. 

Patton’s heart ached- and his heart was big, it took up most of him. He felt the pain spread out from his center and into his fingertips and toes, hot and empathetic. Because how could he hear something like that, and not want to spend the rest of the night doting on the creature in front of him until that voice never sounded so small again, till he was as big and confident as he was meant to be?

“I don’t think I want to be alone, either,” Patton said.

Remus stared, his big scarlet eyes casting a faint glow in the dark. They were wide, cautiously hopeful.

“Yeah?” He muttered.

“Yeah.”

Patton opened the door, and led them both inside.

Remus shuffled around on the other side of the bed, but Patton was still, however much he wanted to squirm.

“Um.”

The movement stopped, and he flushed at the feeling of being watched in the dark. There really was no un-awkward way to say it, was there?

“Remus, since you’re staying, do you- um, do you mind doing me a favor?” 

Remus, little more than a silhouette, propped himself up on his elbow, a tilt to his head. “A favor? Of course, anything for you, Pat,” his words were a purr, and Patton could envision the suggestive smirk on his face in perfect clarity. Patton felt another well of discomfort bubble in his stomach.

“Could you at least wear some clothes, please?” 

There was a beat. Remus laughed, short and good-natured. 

“Yeah, I sorta figured I would. It’s no problem.”

“Thank you,” Patton sighed, relieved. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he paused, and that really would’ve been the end of it, but Patton had learned by then when Remus was about to make a joke. He took a little breath while the words were still clicking together in his head, and a grin crept into his voice. “There’s always tomorrow night to try this clothesless, eh?”

“I’m asexual,” Patton blurted, and he could feel the heat radiating from his face, though he didn’t even know why he was so uncomfortable. It was a joke, Remus was just joking. They were friends and Patton should’ve been used to it- but he’d already gotten so sensitive that night, and jokes like that always hit just a little different than the violent ones or the curses. It must have been a breaking point, or something. 

Remus shifted again, laying on his back. Patton wondered if he’d made things awkward. 

“Oh,” Remus said, “Oh wow, that makes so much sense!”

“It- It does?” Patton sat up, staring at the other with a mix of surprise and relief. Remus blinked up at him, nodding. 

“Well, yeah, that explains why you get so squirmy whenever anybody even implies something to do with sex. I always thought you were just, like, a prude.”

Patton ran his hands over the comforter that pooled around his legs, shrugging. He wasn’t nervous, so much as he was fidgety. “Well, maybe it was some of that, too,” he joked. 

Remus snorted, rolling onto his side and catching one of Patton’s hands in his own. He held it, playing with Patton’s fingers like he was trying to focus. 

“Hey,” he sighed, heavy, “Sorry.”

“Huh? What for?”

“C’mon, you know,” Remus gestured around with his free hand, “All the jokes, and all the times I hit on you, like, graphically. I was kidding, obviously, it was just that you always had the best reactions. If I’d known why, I mean. I don’t know if I’d have actually stopped, but whatever. Different time, different me. I’m stopping now, kay?”

Patton’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t- He wasn’t trying to make Remus stop, that wasn’t fair. He knew how important staying true to himself was to Remus, and if he’d actually managed to guilt-trip any of that away, he didn’t think he’d forgive himself.

“Oh, it’s really okay, I mean- I know you like talking about stuff like that, who am I to say you shouldn’t?”

“You never said that, actually.”

Patton nodded, even if Remus couldn’t see him, and even if he was pretty sure they were on different pages. “Exactly. You shouldn’t go changing just to make me comfortable, I’ll get used to the jokes! I guess I just wanted to know that they were, which, obviously yeah, but… um, I’m bad with knowing what tone is which, sometimes, so-”

“Ugh, Patton,” Remus was laughing, leaning up and grasping tighter around Patton’s hand, with a tone that said plainly: please shut up. Patton did, biting the inside of his cheek. “Look,” Remus huffed, “I know what you’re trying to say, and it’s real sweet that you’re so worried about this, but it’s not exactly like I’m telling you that I’m reinventing myself. I’ll definitely keep saying plenty of horny shit, trust me, I can just drop it with the comments about ya. It wouldn’t even be funny anymore; fucking with people is cool, right, but making someone I actually like feel ‘icky’, or whatever, isn’t really the same thing. It’s no big sacrifice trying to make you feel safer with me, got it?”

Remus’ eyes were on his, glowing with concern. Patton felt his face flush for an entirely new reason, nothing to do with embarrassment.

“You want to make me feel safe?” Patton grinned, just this side of giddy. “That’s a new one.”

Remus made a vague grumbly sound; it shouldn’t have been as cute as it was. “Yeah, okay, so what if I do?”

“It’s okay if you do. It’s sweet.”

“Maybe it is. Besides, you aren’t the only aspec side around,” he shrugged, “I’m not too big on the dating side of things, myself.”

Patton’s smile widened. “Thank you. I mean, for understanding, and… getting me out of my own head about all this.”

“I gotcha,” a claw traced over Patton’s knuckles, idly, “No need for thanks.”

“I’ll give it anyway, you know that.”

Remus snorted. “Mhmmm.”

With the remains of embarrassment finally fading away, Patton yawned, and remembered just how tired he was. He laid himself down finally, relaxing as his back hit the mattress. No sooner after he’d done so, Remus was letting go of his hand in favor of curling around him and setting his head on Patton’s chest. 

Patton would be lying if he said it wasn’t a relief, feeling the other unhesitant to curl up against him still. He looped his own arms around the smaller figure, practically on top of him, and traced patterns against Remus’ back. 

In hindsight, Patton couldn’t remember ever falling asleep so easily. 

The morning after, there was a crisis. A Thomas-crisis, and an emotional one, which set Patton up for a busy, busy day (or morning-through-afternoon, but it was well more than enough work for one day). The one upside to the whole mess was that he didn’t have to deal with it alone, because emotional distress fell neatly into Virgil’s area of expertise as well as his own.

At some point, you’d think they’d get numb to the endless dilemmas every other day, but with each new outing it got clearer and clearer that panic was just a part of life. Most weeks had at least one incident; there would be a mistake at the post office that needed to be worked out in person (which Patton didn’t mind, really, but Virgil hated, and Roman thought was a waste of time), there was an event for a friend of a friend that for some reason they were socially obligated to go to (which no one liked but Roman, who always thought they were one person away from being ‘discovered’), or- the present situation- there were pre-established plans that all the sides had somehow forgotten about until they were shoved into it at the last second.

Patton jolted awake with a gasp, the urgency of his human throwing him out of sleep. It was a full two hours later than he usually woke up, something he would’ve loved to appreciate on any other day. His bed was already empty- the warmth of another person still there, the covers still scrunched, but empty- which did serve to make his morning routine quicker. He dressed with a fervor that he couldn’t even place, manic exhaustion already soaking into him and making plans to stay there all day. It was going to be a rough one, being around people. 

But, Patton knew it wouldn’t be hard to ignore all that, for a little bit at least. There was still a bright side, and that side was Virgil! Who he got to spend all day with! Working, sure, but still- work done with a loved one is never work at all.

“Yeah, I don’t know if that rings true, Pat,” was Virgil’s response to the sentiment, when Patton told him.

“You’re smiling,” Patton said, because he was.

“What?” Virgil covered his mouth, “No, I’m not- shut up.” 

“You believe me, I know you do. You looove me.”

“Says you,” his mouth may have been covered, but the crows feet under his eyes creased more. His shoulders were just a little less tense, too, enough to tell Patton he was right. 

That morning wasn’t great, but, they made it better.

Remus had woken up in a lot of places that were decisively not his bed. The floor? Sure. The imagination? Oh, absolutely. Underneath furniture, on top of furniture, and on counters- anywhere lie-down-able, been there and done that. Just for the fun of it, really, and a nice shock to whoever found him curled up in the sink or beneath cabinets. He was used to a crick in the neck or a splotch of red, rough carpet print on the side of the face. 

So he didn’t really know why, waking up in someone else’s bed, he jolted out of it so quick, he looked like he’d been electrocuted. Or why, after scrambling out of Patton’s arms with whatever carefulness he could manage, he bolted from the scene entirely.

Remus began the slow process of piecing it together after he all but slammed the door behind him, trembling and cursing his way down the hall. He dragged away from Patton’s room and let his back hit the wall, sliding to the floor with a kind of hysteria he could only describe as itchy-vomity-terrifying-amazing. 

He did itch at his skin, he was feeling a bit sick, a bit scared, but he thought he might’ve been grinning anyway, so the description fit well enough. Except, nothing was fitting actually well, right then.

The closeness. The attention. The fact that he’d spent eight hours of sleep getting a full dosage of both those things. The fact that it had been more of both of them than he could remember getting, ever. Of course he’d scrambled away- how else could he react!?

Remus didn’t get overwhelmed. Except, apparently he did! What another fun surprise!

A door creaked open down the hall (thank God not Patton’s). Remus felt the eyes on him, and looked up- manically, he looked well and truly manic.

Logan blinked at him. He looked a lot like an owl in the mornings, Remus noted. One of those smart ones, obviously, not one of the ones that fucks around counting licks on a lollipop. 

Logan cleared his throat. 

“Remus? Is everything alright?” 

Remus shrugged, grinning. “Maybe! Who knows, though, right? It’s a lot, you know?”

Logan did not know, and said as much. Remus only laughed, letting his head hit back against the wall in the process.

He still felt warm, inside and out, after all that cuddling. It was weird, good-weird, but still so new. And, like he said, a lot. He’d felt that kind of warmth before, but definitely not as much- and he knew he needed to distract himself before he went crazy. Or, before his rattrap of a brain ruined the maybe-possibly good feelings for him. 

“Hey, any chance you’re busy today?”

Logan hovered in his doorway for a minute before ultimately deciding to step out, probably determining the interaction as a prolonged one. He didn’t look too put-off about it, though.

“A very high chance,” he said, “But for now I am not. Is there something you need?”

“A distraction.”

“Ah.”

“So, you up for it?” Remus pulled himself up from the floor, popping a few joints. “At least for the morning, yeah, Geek?” 

“Of course,” he smirked, “Provided you can call me by actual name at least once in this conversation.” 

Remus grinned, probably coming off more relieved than he intended. “Eh, we’ll see about that one, Dweeb.”

Logan met him halfway down the hall, not looking at all surprised by the response. He looked, if anything, amused. Remus found himself remembering very abruptly that the two of them got along, were probably friends, and somehow that fact was still novel to him. Or maybe it was the mood. Probably both.

“Well, it was worth a try,” Logan reasoned.

“Oh, sure.”

“What were you thinking we should do, anyway?”

Remus raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m afraid that’s off the table,” Logan told him.

“Aw, fine. Surprise me, then.”

“That will be hard.”

Remus laughed, unsteady and shrill.

“C’mon, I know you’ve got it in ya.” 

Logan smiled, just-nearly-almost mischievous. “Well. I’ll see what I can do.” 

And for just a second, some of the panic slipped away, leaving behind that strange warmth. 

Patton didn���t exactly let Janus know he was coming by. It had been a long day- or, a long five hour period between ten in the morning and three in the afternoon, but still, the idea that there was any day left at all made Patton want to melt into the nearest soft object and never get up. 

When Patton needed to melt, he went to Janus’. Maybe it was the big armchairs; maybe it was the comforting, gooey little white-lies that soaked the atmosphere of his room; maybe it was the fact that his voice was so very easy to fall asleep to. Most likely, at least part of it was because he always seemed to enjoy taking care of people, anyway. 

It was a nice combination, and exactly what was needed. Patton could apologize for not knocking later, ideally when he wasn’t falling asleep where he stood. 

“Janusss,” he groaned, by way of greeting, and promptly collapsed onto the nearest soft surface while the door swung shut behind him. 

Janus blinked at him from across the room, surprise lasting for approximately three seconds. He turned around, and sighed.

“Well, hello to you, too.”

Patton hummed, drearily.

“You look cheery,” Janus quipped, “Anything you’d like to talk about?” 

The question was spoken lightly, but not insincere. Patton lifted his head enough to smile tiredly at the snake. He shrugged, for the room was working it's magic already, as was the easy company to be found there. Stress was easing away, in small bits, evaporating into warm shimmers under his skin. He had no doubt that Janus was doing some of it on purpose, as soon as he’d noticed the mood Patton was in, giving him a blanket of speckled reassurances (which were, as Janus insisted to him time and time again, just a tiny, harmless breed of pleasant lies) in an almost-literal way. 

Most things about the sides’ rooms were like that. Almost-literal; concepts that crept their way into the physical world, if only slightly. Janus was the best at those kinds of things, though. 

“’S just been a tiring day, y’know?” 

Janus sat beside him, toying with some spare yellow strings, weaving and unweaving them almost carelessly. “I do.”

“A tiring night, too,” Patton added, an afterthought, but he found as he said so that it was true. Long in a good way. An impactful way. It felt like something important had happened, something that changed, but he didn't quite know what. It was still just as draining, though.

Janus raised an eyebrow, but he did not pry (even if he most likely wanted to).“So, you’ve come here.”

“Do you mind if I just rest in here for a bit?” He said, as he’d already gotten quite comfortable.

“Why don’t I do you one better?”

Patton hummed confusedly, but Janus had already begun urging him to sit up. The snake waved a hand, filling the room with light, swirling piano music. At once the air seemed to grow fuzzy, spicks and specks of what looked like golden glitter floating around- not unlike from the distortion Patton’s own room gave him when he was happy. Janus smiled down at him, summoning a neat little tea set on a tray and fixing them each a cup of the swirling, caramel-colored liquid. 

Patton sighed happily, taking the teacup he was proffered and thanking the lord for whatever he’d done to deserve a friend like Janus. 

Janus sat beside him, balancing the tea tray on an end table, and let their shoulders bump. He wasn’t a touchy person, exactly, but he allowed for a conservative amount of casual intimacy. Occasionally, and in an unspoken way, but still.

The atmosphere had exactly the intended effect. Patton felt paradisiacal. 

“Gosh, what would any of us do without you?” 

Janus hummed. “You’d most certainly perish.”

Patton laughed, his chest lighter already. 

Remus felt good for about ten seconds after leaving Logan’s room and letting the guy get to work, fresh off the good morning he’d had. Then, very promptly, the weight that the remaining hours of daylight carried dropped onto his shoulders, and he would’ve been perfectly willing to claw his brain out to get a moment of reprieve from the whole barrage of irrational terror worming around in it.

Remus didn’t know why it was so bad that day (well- he had a guess, but thinking about it obviously made it suck worse, so). What he did know was that he needed someone to keep fucking distracting him, and that someone could under no circumstances be Patton.

Luckily, avoiding him wasn’t hard- he was still busy, and Remus had a feeling he’d need a rest once Thomas’ crisis was over, anyway- but that didn’t do much to solve the other half of Remus’ problem.

He needed something big, loud, and most importantly, not solo. He needed someone that could take up a whole room just as easily as himself, with endless energy to bounce back and forth, back and forth, until neither of them would ever worry about anything other than the moment and whatever it was they would do together… 

Oh, god fucking dammit. 

Remus sunk out to the Imagination. No, not his. The opposite half.

He rose up into more than a blank canvas, but less than a finished work; a vibrant world with gaps and white spots. He might’ve taken the time to look around, but- unsurprisingly- his brother was in front of him, accosting him, immediately. Seriously, it was like he’d teleported. 

“What are you doing here?” Roman snapped, his hands, still splattered with ink, landing on his hips. 

“Aw, so now I’m not even allowed to visit my own flesh and blood, and other various parts?” 

Roman scrunched his nose up. “No, you aren’t allowed. This is my room!”

Remus- as he always did when someone said he couldn’t do something- cackled. 

“I’m serious!” Roman whined, “I’m busy!”

Now, he said that, but Remus knew from personal experience that if Roman wanted him gone, he could’ve forced him out without too much issue- or worse yet, attacked him outright. He didn’t seem to be about to spring, though, not looking any worse than annoyed, so Remus happily decided that this interaction fell into the normal-and-healthy-sibling-bickering category instead of the unfortunately familiar would-genuinely-commit-fratricide-if-possible category. 

He grinned. “Yeah, and I’m bored!”

“Not my problem, and you’re still in my room.” 

“What, worried I’ll gunk up all your magic ponies and Yellow Brick Roads, or whatever it is you like to play with around here?”

“Yes, I am!” Roman scowled, but it looked a lot like he was straining his jaw not to laugh. “And you know I don’t make those, you fiend, I made a unicorn once and that was only because Logan wanted one.”

“You’re shitting me if you say that you weren’t the kid who always wanted a pony, Ro.”

“Well, how’s a pony any better than a thestral, which I seem to remember someone getting all excited about when we first read the-books-that-shall-not-be-named?”

“Ooh! Good idea, we should abso-fucking-lutely make those!” Remus wandered past his brother, looking around at the half-finished scene that he’d walked in on. It was sunny, pleasant- all around very vanilla, but there was at least a sense of adventure thrumming under it that gave the place a kick. With some work, it could actually be, like, fun! “Ever see somebody die? Don’t worry, I can help with that.”

Roman turned to him, looking hilariously incredulous with what was happening.

“Um? Excuse me? This is my domain,” he blinked, and a smug smirk crossed his lips. “Which means that you don’t have the power to make anything here! So, ha!”

Oh, right. That made a lot of sense, actually. How had he forgotten that? It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d tried to make something with his brother, right? 

…Wow. That had no business hurting as much as it did.

“Uh- Remus?” 

His head snapped up, a smile with too-many teeth already strained across his face. Remus’ head was scattered enough, coming here wasn’t supposed to make it worse.

“Sure, okay- there’s gotta be some way for us to build stuff together!” 

Roman stared appraisingly at his sibling, apparently thinking before he argued for the one and only time in his life. He tilted his head in confusion, perhaps worry. 

“I- well-” Roman glanced at what he’d been making, and down at his hands. “I’m sure I could, perhaps, let you have power here. Just this once.” He huffed. “It’s my room, right? So there’s no reason why I couldn’t do that, if I wanted.”

“Do you?” 

“Ugh.” Roman rolled his eyes, perfunctorily. “Fine. I don’t know what’s up with you, but I’d rather you be your normal weird-self than… whatever this is,” Roman stuck his hand out, his chin raised like it was a challenge. “Good?”

Remus grabbed his hand (and did not buzzer him, or slime him, even though it would have been so easy- because they were having A Moment and even he could appreciate the sanctity of something like that). 

“Yeah,” he said. “We’re good.”

Roman, as it turned out, was able to tolerate Remus for a whopping six hours, right up until five p.m., and only shooed him away in order to finish the project that he’d more-or-less happily dropped when Remus stopped by. So Roman wasn’t the worst brother in the world, Remus acknowledged. He then resolved to never, under any circumstances, say that to Roman’s face. 

The door to the Imagination shut with a click. The sound matched almost perfectly with another, sharper one down the hall, what Remus recognized as Janus’ door closing. He glanced up with a grin, wondering if he could maybe get Snakey to distract him for a while- only to lock eyes with precisely what he needed distracting from.

Patton smiled at him. He looked tired, relaxed, and raised a hand in some semblance of a wave. It would probably be a great opportunity to unwind together, talk stuff out, and definitely curl into each other on the couch.

Remus wasn’t going to take that opportunity, though.

Remus stared back at Patton for all of three seconds, the grin sliding off his face, before barging through the nearest door and slamming it behind himself. 

Shit. Fuck. What the hell did he do that for? It was just Patton, Remus knew Patton; there was no reason to be jittery enough to bolt from him twice. There was no way Patton wouldn’t think he was mad- which he wasn’t, even if he barely understood why he was losing it, he knew it wasn’t anger. But Patton wouldn’t know that, and he’d cry, probably, and Remus wasn’t sure if he was good enough at comforting people to fix it after. Christ, maybe he couldn’t fix it, maybe he’d still be too keyed up to talk to Pat, even if he started bawling! 

“Hey? What the fuck?”

Remus spun around, and yeah, he could’ve guessed whose room he ended up in without the gravelly voice to give it away, given that little spiral. A surprised-looking Virgil stared up at him, sitting cross-legged on a spiderweb bedspread. 

Remus ignored the thin layer of anxiety still rolling under his skin (now that he could place it), and shrugged, sliding until he sat on the floor.

“Oh, hi,” he said.

“Yeah, hi to you too, but my question still stands:” Virgil clapped his hands together, “What. The fuck?” 

Remus considered a few possible snarky responses, but found that most of them were pretty pathetic. Besides, evading vulnerable situations was more of Janus’ thing, and Remus didn’t want to steal his bit. 

“I’m hiding like a little bitch, so don’t kick me out, or I’ll maul you.”

Virgil’s eyebrows went up, but the surprise in his face was being replaced, slowly, by confused resignation. “Okay, cool. Why here, and why me?”

“First door.”

“Yeah, that’s about my luck,” he blew his bangs out of his face, “So like, you’re not gonna go anywhere else?”

Remus thought about it, but it was an easy choice. If he was gonna whine to anybody about something like this, he decided, it’d probably be Virgil. Virgil was good with fear, he was good with Patton, and he was good at making fun of shit if a conversation got too serious. 

“Nah. Sorry, Emo Boy, but I’ve already annoyed Logan and my dipshit brother today. Looks like it’s your turn!”

“What about Janus?”

“Eh, he’s a live-in therapist for the rest of you already. I think I’ll give him the day off.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, sighing with all the exasperation of a teenage burnout and not a thirty-year-old metaphysical humanoid.

“Okay, okay- and why’s Patton off the table? He, like, actually enjoys helping people,” Virgil glanced down, scuffing the carpet with the side of his foot. “He’s good at it, too.”

“Yeahhhh,” Remus locked his teeth together, inhaled through them, “About that.”

“What, aren’t you two all close now?” Virgil frowned, “I fuckin’ saw you guys at the meeting yesterday, you were so on top of each other, I feel like I forgot that you were two separate sides,” to anybody who didn’t know him, the way he talked about it would sound harsh. Remus, however, knew exactly how soft Virgil really was- the fucking poser- and that that shit? That was pure encouragement, raw as a bloody, bloody steak. 

Which, of course, only made Remus wince again.

He flopped sideways onto the floor, groaning. “Yeah, we’re close. That’s- I think that might be the problem?” That sounded right, almost, but just wrong enough to feel icky and annoying. “Ugh, I don’t know. So I just ran!”

There was a beat.

“Wait a second,” Virgil’s voice was tight- oh that bitch, he was laughing! “You’re hiding from Patton?”

Remus huffed. Okay, so maybe it was a little funny, he could appreciate that- but! He was still upset about it!!

“I mean, what has he done to scare you off?” Virgil pressed, “Too many compliments? Did he hug you too hard? I know the dude can be a lot sometimes, but-”

“Okay, ok-ay,” Remus couldn’t help it, he managed a laugh at it, too. “It’s ridiculous! It’s fucking ridiculous and he’s not even the problem!”

“Then what is the problem?” Virgil was snickering, “And don’t say that it’s you, dude. At least one of us around here has to not hate himself to hell and back, and you’ve defended that title for too long to lose it,” he cleared his throat right after he said it, sitting up straighter and trying to look like he hadn’t just been laughing like a huge dork. “Not that I’m, like, worried about you or anything.”

“Aw, you so are,” Remus stared up at the ceiling, grinning despite the ache in his chest. “But no, it’s not that. He thinks I’m awesome and he’s right, so don’t worry.”

Virgil leaned over him, staring upside-down at Remus. He squinted.

“Hey, this a serious problem?”

“I guess so. You can joke about it, though.”

“Cool. Um,” Virgil pulled away. Remus sat up, watching the trait cross one leg over the other, flip them, then tap his knee one-two-three-etc. times. He chewed on his lip. The whole nine yards of a classic Focused-Virgil Face. “Okay. You can tell me about it, seriously. I’ll try to help, or whatever.”

Remus blinked at him.

“Don’t- Jesus- don’t make a big deal out of it, dude-”

“Oh, I am.”

“I don’t even have a choice, okay, you’re the one who-”

“You’re so sweet, Virgey!”

“Remus, I swear to God, repeat that to anyone and I…” 

Virgil trailed off. Remus pouted at him, dramatically, his eyes practically glowing with mischief. “C’mon, aren’t you going to threaten me?”

“I was, and then I remembered that you’re like, actually into that kinda stuff, so. No. Nope, I’m good.”

“Fine,” he shrugged, “Looks like you’re resigned to just hearing about my feelings, instead!”

Virgil rolled his eyes again- of course he did- but there was no hiding the way he went quiet, patient, you could even call it attentive.

It was an offering, one that Remus didn’t hesitate to take. 

Patton left Janus’ room in a good mood.

He was in a considerably less good mood when, as soon as he’d left, Remus saw him and scrambled away like Patton was about to attack him where he stood- wide-eyed with fear and everything.

Patton swayed in the hallway for seconds after, uncertain about a lot of things suddenly. 

The room Remus had run into had definitely been Virgil’s, not his own, and for a moment Patton entertained the idea of just going up to knock. He dropped that thought quick, realizing that if he really wasn’t wanted, then he definitely didn’t want to confirm that he wasn’t wanted.

He might have gone back to Janus- Janus was smart, Janus knew how to explain things and solve problems and comfort people- but that was scrapped, too. He’d taken up plenty of the snake’s time already, firstly, and secondly… No, yeah, Patton already knew just who he needed to see for something like this. 

Logan set aside his laptop as soon as Patton walked into the common room, a surprisingly perceptive gesture for someone who claimed to be bad with feelings. Or maybe Patton had just gotten rusty at hiding them.

“Hi,” he greeted, wobbly.

“Hello,” Logan said, “You look upset.”

Patton stared at the wall just above his friend’s head, and nodded.

“Can I help?”

He paused. It was a bad habit- one of many!- but feeling unwanted by one side made him wonder if, maybe, he was unwanted by everyone. The thought formed a lump in his throat and had guilt pooling in his gut, but this was Logan. His best friend, the person he had gone to because he always knew just where he stood with him. If Logan didn’t want to help- no, because he always wanted to- if he couldn’t handle helping, then he would tell Patton that. He always did.

“I think Remus is upset with me,” Patton blurted it out quickly, just so he didn’t have to hear them. Logan vanished his laptop at once, gesturing to the spot beside him on the sofa. Patton sat with him, smiling feebly.

“Has he said anything of the sort?”

“No,” Patton picked at the sleeve of his sweater, “He didn’t really have to. He kind of… ran away from me?”

Logan’s eyes widened behind his frames, almost imperceptibly. “I see.”

“I don’t even know what I did,” Patton flushed with the admission, because of just how true it was. He had no idea what he did, and still he felt blame settling over him like a well worn blanket, and all that he could do was hope it wasn’t as bad as the last time. “I feel like I should know this stuff by now, shouldn’t I?”

There was a pause, as Logan processed the words carefully, seemed to turn them over in his head. 

“Be careful not to jump to conclusions, Patton. He typically freely expresses how he is feeling at any given time, so even if his actions seem to say otherwise, it’s entirely possible that he’s not upset with you,” Logan smiled reassuringly. “I find that most of his actions are meaningless. He’s a very weird creature.”

Patton managed to laugh at that. Logan leaned their shoulders together, a little pride flashing in his eyes, as he continued. “He did seem to be ‘out of it’, in a manner of speaking, when we spoke earlier today. It would make sense if that had worsened over the past few hours, and now he’s just particularly flighty. All in all, I wouldn’t read too much into it, if I were you.”

Patton nodded, resolutely not mentioning that they’d spent the night together, however relevant that was. He knew it would sound paranoid to imply that their intimacy had backfired, or come too quick- because Patton was paranoid, and certainly a little neurotic, and the less he voiced it the better. 

Instead, he followed the advice he didn’t believe, and let himself rest against his friend. Logan had laced their fingers together; it wasn’t as comforting as it usually was. 

Logan was only so touchy when it was for the sake of others, and almost always that ‘other’ was Patton. A fact that made the needy trait feel amazingly special most of the time, but on nights like that… More than anything, he felt greedy.

“I’ll ask him about it,” Patton promised, because he knew that was what Logan would suggest (even if the idea made him more than a little dreadfilled). “Maybe I overwhelmed him. He’s been cuddly, so I thought…” Patton shook his head, bile hitting the back of his throat as the realization collapsed upon him. “That’s probably it. I must have took it too far.”

Logan didn’t pry, but Patton could feel his concern mount just as well as he could see the frown on his face.

“Talking to him will be the best course of action,” he said plainly. “For the time being, though,” he released Patton’s hand, wrapping his arm loosely around Patton’s waist and leaving it there. “It might be beneficial for you to receive more reassurance. Is this alright?”

“Yes,” Patton ducked his head, knowing full well how obviously relieved he sounded, “Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me, I’m happy to help,” Logan told him, and he had no doubt that it was true. Still, it always surprised him anyway- and that at least was a good thing about a friend who was so reserved. The pleasant surprises.

Patton sat up enough to rest his head on top of Logan’s, a position that was almost but not quite cuddling.

“I sincerely hope,” Logan muttered, “That everything will be alright for you.”

Whether he was speaking only about the Remus situation or not was unclear.

“Me too.”

“If it’s any consolation, it’s very difficult to stay upset with you, if he truly is so. In my experience, at least.”

Patton sighed. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Of course. Your happiness is-... you, are very important to me, and I can only hope that you’ve made a friend that values you as much as I do.”

Patton knew what he meant by it. Both he and Logan were acutely aware of how different they were, and how little they matched with each other. Patton couldn’t understand him- not wanting to be showered in love, enjoying silence and a little bit of alone time, needing space. He knew that Logan didn’t get him, either- didn’t know why he cried all the time, or why nothing ever seemed to fix him for good, or why he said so many things that went without saying. They still struggled with each other’s languages, sometimes, but they’d gotten miles and miles better with it over the years. Sometimes Patton thought that the only way they’d become so close was sheer willpower, pushing past each misunderstanding and argument just because they liked the challenge of it. Determination was always a common thread between them, whatever differences they had.

They had to have boundaries, then. Logan might not hold Patton on his worst days, but he’d give him notes and gifts and bring him water, food, things that he neglected for himself. Patton didn’t have any of the right words to talk Logan down when things got bad, but he was always there to cheer him back up when he was ready again. Neither of them understood each other, and maybe they never would, but they cared. Even if they couldn’t be what the other needed, they cared, and that was all they had to do. 

So even if Logan couldn’t fix things, Patton thought, he still did a hell of a good job patching them up. 

“Hey. Hey!”

Patton turned around with a jolt, his fingers going tight in the blanket about his shoulders. How long he’d been downstairs, he didn’t know- but he knew that he was really, very tired, and now was left blinking and confused at the person accosting him with so much energy. 

“Um, hi,” Patton tried.

Remus had run up to him at once, and was just as suddenly seizing both of his hands. Patton might have taken a moment to appreciate the touch, but with just one sentence that positivity crumbled:

“I need to talk to you.”

Patton shoved a plastic smile onto his face. He always felt a little icky to be faking it, but with Remus, the shame was especially thick. Still, it was only instinct. 

“Okay.”

Patton opened the door; the Duke marched in without waiting for invitation, and he followed. 

Dread dripped down his spine like melting ice cubes. This is fine, Patton told himself firmly, once they were both sitting feet apart on the bed. He refused to think too hard about what the distance meant- if it meant anything at all, or if he was only being ridiculous.

“Sorry about today,” Remus began, “Really. I was freaking out for the stupidest fucking reason. You’ll laugh when I tell you!”

Patton didn’t laugh, but he smiled a little more wholly. If Remus was upset with him, the apology must’ve meant at least some of that had faded away. Probably.

“It’s okay, Mess,” the nickname rolled off his tongue easily. Remus grinned at him, but it was somehow more manic than usual.

“I probably got you all worried over nothing, bolting on you before you could wake up- and then again earlier, right?”

There was a pause, as Patton tried to decide if the question was rhetoric or not. When the silence stretched on uncomfortably, he found himself nodding. 

Remus huffed out a breath, rocking back and staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I- I’m still working at the whole self-improvement thing, ya know? That probably doesn’t make it better, but- I’ve never really had a reason to try and be, uh, considerate. Janus never really cared if I was a bitch, and nobody else ever mattered, and that- yeah, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk about.” 

His voice was raspy, low and thick in a way that it almost never was. Patton tipped his head to the side, confused. Remus looked- and sounded- awkward, an expression that was not at home on his face. 

“Wait, um- so it wasn’t anything I did? You’re not upset with me?”

Remus looked at him like he was crazy (ironic, that).

“Upset with you?” He crowed, “Why the fuck would I be upset with you?”

Patton flushed; he laughed embarrassedly, or maybe in relief; he toyed with the sleeves of his sweater.

“I didn’t really- I don’t know, but I was worried that I’d, um, overstepped some boundaries last night, and maybe made you uncomfortable.”

He was only kind of looking at his friend, from out the corners of his eyes. It was still easy to see the way Remus went from confused to amused, and then burst into cackles.

“You- You- Me? Morey, please, it takes a lot to make me uncomfortable- if that’s even possible, actually- and you sure as shit haven’t figured out how to pull it off yet. Sugar, I asked to stay with you!”

The relief flooded Patton all in a rush, and he felt himself finally relax. With Remus laughing and joking and being his usual (sweet, impressively sweet, surprisingly so) self again, it all started seeming a little silly. Remus must’ve seen him coming untense, folding down the same way accordion-pressed paper sprawled out when it was released from a bored student’s hand, because his gaze went warm, like something had finally clicked into place in his head. A problem solved, and what a wonderful solution it had come to- that’s what the look said. 

Patton met the smile just as brightly when the Duke shifted over some of the distance between them, taking up both of Morality’s hands in his own yet again. 

“Well, since it wasn’t something I did,” Patton said, “Then what was the actual problem?”

Remus didn’t look too upset at the question, but he was glancing down, up, sideways- his pupils flitted around the room without really touching on anything for too long; it wasn’t often that he was so obviously thinking something through. His fingers flexed, face a little pink, and he hesitated before answering:

“Okay, it’s like I said, right? I don’t- I’ve never needed to try to be anything for anybody before. I mean that I never wanted to do things in a conform-y way, obviously, but, I never wanted to be considerate, either,” he smirked down at their tangled hands, shrugging. “I don’t think I’m doing too bad for a first try, to be honest- but that’s not the point, the point is- this is… new.”

Patton opened his mouth, reassurances rushing to the tip of his tongue before he was hastily shushed.

“No, look, there’s a difference between being a pushover and just being fucking nice to the people you care about. That’s the problem- or I thought it was a problem, in my dipshit lizard-panic brain this morning- right? I’ve never wanted to do anything for people, because I didn’t need them anyway. I figured I didn’t, I guess, cuz I could survive without ‘em- it wasn’t like I had a choice, but I got on fine. Not to be too… I don’t know, pathetic? Who cares, but- I never knew anything different.”

Patton’s eyes went wide and watery, like the blue of his irises were soaking into everything else and leaking, leaking, leaking. He was squeezing Remus’ hands a little too tight, certainly, and he just wanted to hug him so bad- but despite his words, Remus didn’t even seem to need it. He looked back at Patton, huffed a sigh, looking just plain amused.

“So this hit me when I was talking to Virgil, about ten minutes ago,” he started, “That I woke up today, with you, and I had this thought like… Fuck, I don’t ever wanna move again. I could starve and then start to decompose and probably rot into bloody mush, but I’d probably still be perfectly happy- which is weird, because starvation is easily one of the boringest ways to die, I could go out so much cooler- but, it was more the fact that I was with you, and uh. So, so I thought that- which is so dumb and sappy- and it surprised me so bad that I just ran. And after I had, I was so freaked out, I didn’t even remember why for!”

He took a deep breath, something that he hadn’t done for that entire ramble. Patton got the sense he still wasn’t finished though, and waited patiently.

“I never needed anybody caring about me for me to be okay- the screaming and the fleeing and all that was fine, it was still a reaction. But I think I just realized that I couldn’t go back to that, now.

“Because of you. I knew I liked you, but it never clicked that things would probably suck without you by this point. More than that, I guess- it hit me that just because I can take care of myself, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t fucking blow. That I don’t- I don’t want to be so independent again, okay? That I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

And he couldn’t help it at all; Patton did hug him, then. He pulled him against his chest as soon as he noticed the words going choppy, choked, and halting. He let go of Remus’ hands, in favor of tangling his fingers in the Duke’s hair and carding through it.

Remus met the embrace with just as much fervor, curling up into the bigger trait. Yet somehow, he wasn’t crying yet.

“Hey, hey, I’m alright,” he murmured, “I mean, don’t let go, obviously- but I’m okay. I had all day to panic! Which I definitely did, by the way, because my whole worldview got screwed over. Finally know how you feel, I guess,” He was joking, Patton could hear his smile. He laughed. “But I got it out of my system, and ya know what I realized after that?”

Patton hummed attentively, letting Remus pull back just enough to see his face.

“I said, ‘okay, I’m processing that, and it doesn’t matter.’ It doesn’t matter because I only realized that maybe I need people once I already had them, and- no offense- but you don’t really seem like the abandoning type. The opposite, that’s what you are.”

Patton beamed. 

“Of course not,” he swore, pressing the words out as though intensity alone could make them more true, more pure. “Never, not ever.”

“Good,” Remus said, “Cuz I’m hanging on to ya, Pat. As long as I can.”

Chapter Eight

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob 

[muchadoaboutbucky]

Baby, Just Say Yes

Bucky keeps asking you to marry him… but you want him to do something before you say yes.

PAIRING: Bucky x Native American!Reader

WARNINGS: fluff, implied smut

NOTE: Edited by @crispychrissy​. Do not save or repost my work without my consent. My prompt was: “I want to do something for her… but what?” / “Well, there’s the usual things: flowers, chocolates, promises you don’t intend to keep…” -Beast and Cogsworth, Beauty and the Beast

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Bucky has no idea how he’s gone two years without marrying you. It’s been sweet and charming, being able to wake up next to you every morning, nestled in soft, warm sheets and dot each other’s cheeks and lips with sticky kisses. And then to make love in the same bed hours later and fall asleep entangled in each other’s arms. It’s been two years of that, living as lovers destined to never grow apart, and you’ve been happy. 

But Bucky wants more. He wants rings, a white chiffon dress, a black tux, a pretty bouquet of flowers, a three-tier cake, the words “I do...”

No matter how many times he jokingly hints that he wants to marry you, it always gets brushed aside. He understands why—weddings are expensive and anything could throw a wrench in your plans. Missions, injuries, the nightmares of moving too fast, babymaking, baby raising… ugh, fuck.

He’s been trying for a while, playing with the little jokes: “you know, if we got married we could…” and “the Bahamas look like a good honeymoon destination.” Each time you play along, working into his fantasies only to push them away for the right time. 

After six months of playing around proposals, too scared to go for some huge romantic gesture that might pressure you into saying “yes,” Bucky’s stuck. He has no idea what he has to do to get you to marry him, and it’s driving him nuts. 

He finds you in the library, curled up on one of the large couches with a cup of coffee and a heavy astronomy book Thor had brought from Asgard that you’ve been infatuated with for weeks. With you being one of the few non-Asgardians able to read the text, Bucky makes sure to praise your intelligence every opportunity he gets, taking pride in being able to get in on the who-has-the-better-girl thing that Thor and Tony always have going on. 

“Hey, smarty-pants.” He plops down next to you, leans in to give you a smooch on the cheek, and takes a peek at the symbols etched on delicate paper. “What’s going on?”

“Reading some deep-space astronomy facts.” You turn to face him, smiling wearily. “Why?”

“Just wondering.” Bucky slings his arm across the couch behind you. “I was thinking, if we got married we could have our cake made with all these little symbols on it.”

“That would be so tacky,” you giggle, “they’re pretty, but they don’t belong on a cake, babe.”

Bucky groans and drops his head on your shoulder. “You could design the cake, then?”

“What if I want pie?”

“Who has pie at their wedding?”

You lean forward to set the book on the coffee table. “My aunt did.”

“Blegh.” Bucky buries his face in the crook of your neck and kisses the sensitive spot that always makes you squirm. “Nothin’s better than cake. This bakery in Brooklyn used to make this vanilla spice cake with buttercream. I bet you’d never taste anything better.”

You laugh as he leans forward, pressing you down into the couch and sitting himself on top of you, hips lazily slotted between your thighs. “I don’t know, the cupcakes Wanda made the other night were pretty top notch.”

“Maybe she could make our cake.” Bucky kisses you, long and deep, not stopping until your palms press against his chest. “What do you think?” he continues, “chocolate or vanilla?”

“Why do you want cake so bad?” You giggle when his fingers creep under the hem of your sweater. “I think there’s still some cupcakes left.”

Bucky grumbles. “I want wedding cake. Probably as much as I want you to marry me.”

“Babe—”

“What do I have to do to get you to marry me, honey?” Bucky gazes down at you, pulling the best puppy-eyed expression he can muster. “Please, just tell me.”

You cock an eyebrow, gazing up at him with the mysterious, wicked gleam in your eyes that he loves so much. “I think you’re smart enough to come up with something.”

Bucky frowns. “What?”

“I trust your imagination.” You rub your foot along the side of his thigh.

He lowers his head to bury his lips against the side of your neck. “You’re playing with me.”

You giggle in his ear. “I’m not.”

Lifting his head, Bucky rakes his eyes over your face. There’s the playful tease there, of course, it always is, but there’s something else… desperation, maybe?

“Hmm.” He kisses you again and pulls away. “What kind of surprise d’ya want?”

“Any kind.” You reach for your book and flip back to the page he’d interrupted. “Pizza for dinner tonight okay?”

He nods. “Definitely. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

***

He finds Tony an hour later, busy in the lab with a new piece of technology for Pepper’s suit. Tony barely glances up as Bucky enters, but sets down the tools in his hands.

“Your arm need fixing, again?” Tony casts a quick glance at the black and gold glint of Bucky’s left arm. 

“Not this time,” Bucky replies. “I, uh, I need your help.”

Tony reaches out in front of him, swiping through the suspended display hovering over his work table. “Y/N giving you trouble again?”

“A little,” Bucky replies with a nervous chuckle, “I need to get Y/N to marry me.”

Tony chuckles. “She hasn’t said yes yet? You’ve only been asking her for the last… how long has it been?”

“Six months.” Bucky tucks his hands into his pockets. “All I did was ask her what I have to do to get her to marry me, she said to surprise her, so… I want to do something for her… but what?”

Tony pulls a heavy leather glove off his right hand and rummages in a half-finished bag of trail mix. “Well, there’s the usual things. Flowers, chocolates, promises you don’t intend to keep…” 

Bucky sighs, shaking his head, and braces his hands on the worktable. “I don’t know what she could want. Not a car, we have one that we barely use… maybe a vacation?”

“Well, the Bahamas are nice,” Tony suggests. “You can always use the jet.”

Bucky bows his head, racking his brain for all the little hints you could have made. Sure, you’ve made hints about wanting a vacation someplace nice, or mentioned staying abroad the next time you went on an international mission… maybe you’re tired of being around people almost twenty-four seven. Maybe you want a place to call your own, where you and Bucky can be as messy and loud and as free as possible…

“A house.” He steps back, flexing his fingers by his sides. “I should build her a house.”

“Then build her a house,” Tony finishes. “Lemme finish this thing for Pepper, then we can talk. I got some old blueprints for safehouses I never finished.”

“Got it.” Bucky steps back as Tony picks up his tools to resume work on the piece of armor in front of him. “D’you mind not telling her? I wanna keep this a surprise.”

“No problem.” Tony waves him off. “See you ‘round, Barnes.”

***

It takes almost two weeks to get everything organized. After a long night of indecisiveness, Bucky settles on plans for a two-bedroom cabin and starts flipping through catalogues of furniture. It becomes a little easier to spread things out and organize when you and Natasha head off on a weekend getaway to the city.

By the time you return, Bucky’s got everything settled. Steve and Sam jump on the bandwagon to help get the place built just a little faster, and Tony works on constructing a false month-long mission, just as an excuse to keep you and the others unaware. 

As usual, you wake Bucky early the day he’s supposed to head out, kissing him long and slow as he slowly flickers into consciousness, one hand working on his morning erection until he flips you over and settles inside with long, slow strokes that have your toes curling. After the third alarm goes off, you finally stumble out of bed and into the shower, where you spend more time kissing and touching than actually showering. 

“I don’t want you to be gone a whole month.” You perch on the edge of the bed, hair wrapped in a towel, one of Bucky’s henleys shrouding your torso. “Not fair that Tony didn’t ask me to come along.”

Bucky smiles, bending down to kiss your forehead. “Just think ‘bout how much fun we can have when it’s over?”

“You’re only making it worse.” 

“Mmm.” Bucky hikes his jeans up around his waist. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

***

It takes the better part of their given month, but the moment the final stone on the front steps is laid into place, Bucky’s heart soars. The house had come along much better and faster than they’d expected it to, and the construction crew had been more than happy to have the help of two superhumans to move heavier materials into place. 

With the crew finally cleaned and gone, it’s down to the four men to set up the furniture. It takes the better part of the day, but eventually the empty house is left full of brand new furniture, the greatest piece (in Bucky’s opinion, at least) being the massive bed perched in the bedroom. Tony had graciously contributed a plush foam mattress as a housewarming gift, complete with soft linen sheets and pillows large enough to serve as backrests for the couch. 

They head back to the tower after proclaiming the house fit to live in, and Bucky pockets the key to the front door with a smile on his face.

You spring into his arms the minute he steps off the Quinjet, peppering his cheeks with kisses as he cradles you against his body.

“How was your mission?” You cup his face, stroking the growing beard on his cheeks. “You haven’t shaved.”

“Mmm.” Bucky leans in to press a scruffy kiss to your lips. “Lemme take a shower and I’ll tell ya all about it.”

***

The following day is spent mostly in bed. Bucky doesn’t have a care for anything in the world other than reconnecting, and you only leave the privacy of your bedroom to grab snacks from the kitchen. Bucky admires the way your nightshirt falls to cover the tops of your thighs, but he can’t wait for you to not have to dress at all.

When the sun begins to set, Bucky swipes the keys to his personal car from the hanger by the door and slips the little black velvet box into his back pocket. He finds you in the kitchen, bickering with Sam and Steve over the best way to prepare the sauce for spaghetti night.

“Babe.” He winds an arm around your waist and presses his lips to your temple. “Get your shoes on.”

“Why?” You turn in his arms, watching him give Steve and Sam pointed looks. “These guys don’t know how to prep sauce, I’m trying to teach ‘em.”

“I wanna go for a drive.” He pats his metal hand against your ass. “Let’s go.”

You grumble and step into a pair of flip flops, following him obediently down to the garage. The Mercedes Bucky had bought the year before sits in the furthest stall, holding three months’ worth of dust on the silver paint and tinted windows. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, sliding into the passenger seat. “You hate driving in the city, are you sure you don’t want me to—”

“Nope.” Bucky lowers himself into the driver’s side and slides the key into the ignition before rummaging in his jacket pocket and handing you the sleep mask he’d snagged from your bedside drawer. “Put this on.”

You giggle, accepting the blindfold and slipping the band over your head. “I wanna know where we’re going.”

“It’s a surprise.” Bucky leans across the console to kiss you and tugs the blindfold the rest of the way down. 

“Well, how long do I have to keep this thing on?”

Bucky glances down at the ETA on his phone. “An hour. I’ll let you know when to take it off.”

He waits for the garage door to open and watches traffic almost instantly come to a stop behind the automatic red lights Tony had build in front of the tower. The city’s still wildly lit, and he clenches his fingers on the steering wheel as he turns down the road, heading to the closest highway onramp. 

***

He pulls onto the newly paved driveway just over an hour later, heart pounding hard in his chest. The lights in the house are off, and he parks far enough away for you to not hear the sound of the front door opening. 

“Stay right here,” he directs, “and no peeking. Got it?”

“Got it.” You duck your head down, overcompensating for the no-peeking rule, and Bucky climbs out of the car, jogs up onto the porch, and unlocks the front door as quietly as he can. The lights flicker on in each room, and he makes his rounds to check for cleanliness before coming back out. You’re still hunched over in the passenger seat, and he opens your door, reaching in to help you out.

“I smell grass,” you remark, “don’t tell me you’re gonna kill me and bury my body out in some field. I deserve my own mausoleum.”

“I would never.” Bucky pecks your cheek and pulls you back, standing far enough away from the house to get a full view. “There we go… on three, you can take your blindfold off.”

You giggle and bounce excitedly. “I’m beyond ready, get to counting.”

“Okay.” Bucky wraps his arms around your waist and presses a kiss to the shell of your ear. “One… two… three.”

Lifting the mask off, you blink several times to let your eyes adjust, and then you let out a little squeak and cover your mouth.

“Is this…” you gasp, fanning your face excitedly, “holy shit, Bucky, is this….”

“Our new house?” He hums and lets you turn in his arms. “Definitely. You really think we went on a month-long mission?”

Tears bloom in your eyes, and you cup his face, stretching up to kiss him. “I can’t believe you built a house, babe.”

“Well, I did,” he replies proudly, reaching into his back pocket. “Laid each stone on that porch myself. And since I got that out of the way…”

You let out a sniffle as he drops to one knee, flipping a little box open to reveal the small silver band nestled inside. “Oh, Bucky…”

“I’ve loved you for the last two years of my life,” he says, “I wanna spend every minute I have left with you as my wife. Will you marry me?”

You nod, and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief, slipping the ring onto your finger and discarding the box on the ground as he rises to scoop you into his arms. “I love you so goddamn much, honey,” he murmurs as you bury your face in his shoulder, your body trembling with sobs. “Wanna go inside?”

You nod excitedly and squeal when Bucky hoists you up, carrying you bridal style up the stairs and over the threshold. He turns, gives one last look at the darkened sky, and kicks the door shut, sealing you alone in a brand new chapter of your perfect little life.

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[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - Playdate

I was looking through my AU Word docs for Inspiration for Stanuary, and stumbled across this scene that I never finished.  So I decided to finish this scene.  It stars Emmett McGucket, who sort of inadvertently became the star of the Superhero/villain AU lmao.

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

              Emmett opened the door to his house.

              “C’mon in,” he said nervously.  Carter punched his arm.

              “You don’t need to be anxious around me, man.  Hell, I’m the one who should be nervous.  I might get to meet a famous supervillain.”

              “…Probably not,” Emmett said, stepping aside so that Carter could come in. “Ma’s at her day job and Uncle Lute got called in to help his crew.”

              “That’s unfortunate,” Carter remarked.  He entered the house.  “Oh, well. At least I get to meet your dad and your sisters.”  He grinned at Emmett.  “I’m a bit curious about whether they’re actually as wild as you say.  I mean, compared to you, just about anyone’s wild.” Emmett flushed.  “I’m just teasing, relax.”

              “Yeah, I, uh, I knew that,” Emmett said weakly.  He closed the door.  “I’m glad your mom said you could finally come over.  You didn’t get lost on the way, did ya?”

              “Nah.”

              “And did you walk or-”

              “I biked.”  Carter eyed Emmett.  “Do you really wanna talk about how I got here, or show off your house a bit?” Emmett smiled.

              “Good point.  My room’s upstairs.”

              “Awesome.  Oh, before you show me your room, my mom told me to bring something over.  Apparently that’s the nice thing to do or whatever. So…”  Carter removed his backpack and dug around in it.  “Ah ha!  Here!” He handed Emmett a large candle. “You can give that to your dad.”

              “When he gets home, I will.”  Emmett brought the candle into the kitchen and set it on the counter.  When he returned, Carter raised an eyebrow.

              “He’s not home?”

              “Nope.”

              “But…he’s a stay-at-home dad.  Where is he?”

              “He, uh, he had to go run some errands,” Emmett fibbed.

              “He’ll be back before I leave, though, right?”  Carter grinned at him.  “I’m starting to wonder if he doesn’t exist or something.  You’re so secretive about him.”

              “Nah, he exists.  He’s just a bit uncomfortable with the whole villain thing,” Emmett said with a shrug. Carter shook his head.

              “That’s so weird.”

              “Hey, Emmett!” a voice shouted from the second floor.  Footsteps thundered down the stairs.  Daisy stuck her head around the corner to stare at Emmett and Carter.  Her eyes widened.  “Ooh, you have a friend over?”

              “Yes,” Emmett said.  “Ma and Dad said it was okay.”

              “Hmm.”  Daisy approached the two boys.  She crossed her arms.  “You’re short,” she said flatly to Carter.  Carter grinned.

              “I’ve seen you guys’ mom before.  I’m not nearly as short as her.  Or as Tsunami.”

              “True.”  Daisy continued to look Carter up and down.

              “Did you want somethin’?” Emmett asked.  Daisy shrugged.

              “Yeah, but since you’ve got a guest, I’ll just harass Emily about it.” She burst into flames and flew away. Carter’s jaw dropped.  He turned to stare at Emmett.  Emmett smiled weakly.

              “I told you my sisters were all elementals.”

              “Yeah, but-”  Carter chortled.  “Man, I wish my family had cooler powers.  When we show off, it’s not nearly as fun.”  Emmett’s smile strengthened.  “Anyways, do you have any fun video games?”

              “I don’t really play many video games, but my dad and Danny like to play Need for Speed.”

              “Hell yeah!  Lead the way.”

-----

              The video game session was interrupted a few times by Emmett’s sisters, who were incredibly curious about his friend and not bothering to be polite about it.  Eventually, Emily settled down in Stan’s favorite armchair in the living room, silently reading a book on pyrotechnics and occasionally glancing over at Emmett and Carter, playing video games from the floor.

              “So, Emily, do you think you’ll be the next Sirocco?” Carter asked after winning yet another round.  Emily shrugged.

              “Maybe.  Depends on when Ma decides to retire.  I don’t wanna steal her codename while she’s still usin’ it.”  Emily turned a page in her book.  “Dunno if I’ll go the full villain route, though.”  Carter whipped his head around to stare at her.

              “What?  You’re thinking about being a non-villainous Sirocco?  That’s insane.”  Carter shook his head.  “See, this is why it was stupid that your parents didn’t send you all to Sycamore Grove. Now not all of you will be villains!”

              “Well, Dad’ll be happy about that, at least,” Emily muttered.  Carter set down his controller and leaned back against the couch.

              “This mysterious ‘dad’ again,” he drawled.  He looked at Emmett.  “Seriously, where is he?  He’s not doing a very good job of being a stay-at-home dad if he’s not home.”

              “He’s got other things to do,” Emily said.  “And we’re old enough to watch ourselves anyways.”

              “Fine, I’ll drop it,” Carter muttered.  He turned his attention back to the game.  “So, Emmett, you said all your sisters were elementals.  Emily’s an aerokinetic, what about the others?”

              “Danny’s a cryo, she gets that from our Ma’s grandma,” Emmett said.  “And Daisy’s a pyro, she gets that from Dad.”

              “Your dad’s a pyro?”

              “Yeah.”

              “Honestly, I didn’t even realize he was a super,” Carter commented.  “Why isn’t he a villain?  He married one and he’s got the right power for it.”

              “Not all supers are masks,” Emmett said.  “I mean, I don’t think I’ll wind up being a mask.”

              “But to marry a mask and not be one-” Carter started.  Emmett paused the game.  He looked at Carter.  “You guys are pretty touchy about this.”

              “Well, yeah,” Emily piped up.  “You think we haven’t heard this same line of questionin’ from Ma’s coworkers?”  After a moment, Carter nodded.

              “Fair point.  So-” Whatever else Carter was about to say was interrupted by a loud crash in the backyard.  “What the hell was that?” Carter asked, getting up.  Voices carried from outside.

              “You almost crushed me there, Pines.”  Emmett and Emily exchanged a look.

              That sounds like Uncle Lute.

              “Excuse me for not having a perfect landing while I’m bleeding out, Gucket,” Stan snapped.  Footsteps sounded on the back porch, which led directly into the living room via a sliding glass door.  The door opened.  “Who put the curtains down?”

              “Prob’ly one of-” Lute started, pulling back the curtain.  He paused, catching sight of Emily, Emmett, and Carter, who were all staring at him.  “Um.” Before anyone could say anything, Lute suddenly tumbled out of sight with a yelp.  “Son of a- Emily, get yer father off me ‘fore he flattens me.” Emily jumped to her feet.  As she went to help, Emmett grabbed Carter’s hand.

              “We should prob’ly go upstairs.”

              “What?  Why?” Carter asked.

              “This seems like something that we shouldn’t-” Emmett started.  Danny and Daisy raced down the stairs.

              “We saw Dad crash in the yard,” Danny said breathlessly.  “Is Ma-”

              “Yes, yer mother’s on her way, but right now, we need to move yer father to the couch,” Lute said, pulling the curtain open.  The action revealed Stan, unconscious and pale, being partially lifted by Emily.  And, to Emmett’s dread, his father was in his superhero outfit.

              “Come on, Carter, we need to get out of the way,” Emmett said, pulling Carter up from the couch and dragging him upstairs.  His power dampener beeped.  Once they reached the landing of the second floor, Carter pulled his hand free.

              “Did you try to control me?” Carter asked quietly.

              “What?  No!”

              “Your power dampener just lit up.”

              “I- sometimes when I get worked up- I still wear the dampener for a reason,” Emmett stammered.  Carter looked back down to the first floor.  “No!”  Emmett’s dampener beeped again, making him grimace.

              “What the hell is going on?” Carter demanded, still looking into the living room from above.  “Is that- is that your mom’s archnemesis?  That looks like Flamethrower.”  Emmett broke into a nervous sweat.  “Why did your uncle bring an unconscious superhero to your house?  And why-”  Carter’s eyes widened.  “Your uncle called him your dad.  So did your sister.  And you said your dad was a pyro, which Flamethrower is.”  Carter swore softly.  “Your dad…is Flamethrower?”

              “Can- can we talk about this in my room?”

              “Yeah.  Sure.”

-----

              Once Emmett had closed the door to his room, Carter looked at him expectantly.

              “Care to explain why your dad is a superhero?”

              “I…I don’t know, to be honest.”  Emmett crossed over to his bed and sat down.  Carter sat next to him.  “I told you the first day we met that I didn’t know how my parents met.  Which isn’t completely true – I know how they met. But I don’t know why they became a couple.  From what I understand, they didn’t get along for years, then, out of nowhere, they became a couple and had Danny and Daisy.”

              “What’s the exact timeframe here?” Carter asked thoughtfully.

              “Pardon?”

              “How long between your parents getting together and your older sisters being born?”

              “I…”  Emmett stared at his friend.  “Are you suggesting that my parents got together because my dad got my ma pregnant?”

              “It’s a possibility.”

              “But how would my sisters have gotten conceived if they were still enemies?”

              “Oh, like you haven’t noticed how steamy some fights get,” Carter scoffed. “You pin your enemy against a wall, their eyes stare directly into yours…”

              “Ugh!  Okay, I get it, just-”  Emmett grimaced.  “Stop makin’ me imagine that happening with my parents.”  Carter snickered.  “At the end of the day, though, the timeline isn’t important, and neither is the way my parents got together.  What’s important is that they’re married and love each other now.”

              “Yeah.”  Carter shook his head.  “That’s weird as fuck, man.  No wonder you’re always so cagey about your dad.”

              “If anyone found out…”  Emmett’s throat abruptly became choked up with fear.  “My uncle told me that, back when Danny and Daisy were still really little, one of Dad’s coworkers found out he married a supervillain.  The coworker went rogue and kidnapped Dad.  My ma rescued him, but it was a big mess.”  Emmett met Carter’s eyes.  “You can’t tell anyone.”

              “What would happen if I did?” Carter asked.  Emmett’s heart broke.  His expression must have shown this, because Carter quickly backpedaled.  “I won’t!  Sorry, I didn’t- I’m just so used to playing devil’s advocate that I said that without thinking.”

              “I don’t know what would happen.  But I would definitely never be able to see you again.”

              “Well, you don’t need to worry, ‘cause I won’t tell a soul,” Carter said firmly. Emmett smiled.

              “Thank you.”  There was a knock.  “Yes?” Danny opened the door.

              “Dad wants to talk to you and yer friend,” she said, looking directly at Carter with a cold gaze.  “Come on.” Emmett and Carter exchanged a look, then stood up and followed Danny downstairs.  Stan was on the couch, still wearing the bottoms to his heroing outfit, with a large bandage over much of his bared torso.  Thankfully, he was now awake and drinking a can of Pitt Cola.

              “Glad yer okay, Dad,” Emmett said quietly.  Stan grinned at him.

              “Takes a lot more than what happened today to put your old man out of commission.”  He looked at Carter.  “Sorry about ruining your playdate with Emmett.”

              “Dad!” Emmett yelped.  Stan chuckled.

              “I’m just teasing, sport.  Seriously though, Carter, this isn’t how I planned on meeting you.”

              “Shit happens,” Carter said with a shrug.  Stan nodded.

              “I like that attitude.”  His easygoing demeanor abruptly vanished.  Emmett swallowed, recognizing the stony expression on his father’s face.  Stan was shifting into what Emily called “take no shit mode”.  “Look, kid, you can’t tell anyone what you saw or think you saw today.”

              “Don’t worry, I already told Emmett I’d keep it a secret,” Carter said. Stan looked at him doubtfully.  “I don’t want to mess up my best friendship. Or anger one of the most powerful families in villainy.”  Stan nodded.

              “Smart.  Even if Angie and I have to go into hiding with the kids, the rest of her family won’t have to.  And you know exactly how dangerous the McGuckets are.”

              “Yes, sir.”

              “You’re giving me your word that you’ll keep my secret identity to yourself,” Stan said.  Carter nodded.  “I need you to say it, son.”  Emmett noted with some amusement that the way Stan said his last sentence reminded him of someone.  He glanced at Danny, who, judging by her expression, had also picked up on it.

              He sounded just like Grampie Gucket.  Carter, somehow not quailing under the force of Stan’s stare, nodded again.

              “I give you my word that I won’t tell anyone your secret identity, Emmett’s dad.”  Immediately, Stan left “take no shit mode” and chortled.

              “You can call me Mr. Pines, kid.  That’s what Emmett’s sister’s friends call me.”

              “Ah.  Okay. Mr. Pines.  Your secret is safe with me.”

              “Good.”  Stan got up from the couch, poorly stifling a groan of pain.  Danny crossed her arms, scowling.  “Princess, don’t give me that look.”

              “You shouldn’t be getting up, Dad.  If you need something, I can get it.”

              “Nope.  No dice.” Stan clapped Danny on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go call your ma to let her know I’m not unconscious anymore.”

              “Are my services as a human ice pack no longer needed, then?”

              “Yes, sweetie, you’re free to go.”

              “Great.”  Danny went back upstairs and ducked into her room.

              “Dad, I think Danny’s right,” Emmett said.  “You should be laying down.”

              “Nope!  You and your little friend can get back to playing.  Whattaya think for dinner?  Spaghetti? I gotta get started soon if it’s gonna be ready at a reasonable time.”

              “You’re making dinner?” Carter asked.  Stan raised an eyebrow.

              “I’m a stay-at-home dad when I’m not getting stabbed by villains.  Feeding my kids is my job.”

              “But you just got hurt.”

              “Eh.  I’ve had worse.”  Stan grinned. “My wife’s given me worse.”

              “Dad!” Emmett whined.  Stan chuckled.  He walked into the kitchen.

              “Why’s there some candle in here?”

              “My mom told me to bring a gift over,” Carter called.

              “Nice,” Stan said.  “Very classy.”  Carter looked at Emmett, amused.  Emmett shrugged.

              “He’s right.  Bringin’ that was pretty classy.”  Carter laughed and punched Emmett’s shoulder.

              “You’re funny, ‘Met.  C’mon, let’s get back to me kicking your ass at video games.”

[gerudospiriit]

Mistletoe Mission

[After all that angst, I felt like I needed to write something silly, cheesy, and totally cliche! 

A little Chrimbus gift for the bae, @maryarkham, have a little DantexLady silly holiday shenanigans!

I hope you like it, bebe! <3]

Dante watched the front door expectantly through the gap between his boots, the sprig of mistletoe taped over it. With only three days until Christmas, this had to work, and it had to work soon. Otherwise, he lost the element of surprise; mistletoe still decorating a home after Christmas just looked desperate. He expected his prey to kick open those doors any second now…

The rumble of a motor out front alerted him of her arrival, the engine cut seconds later. Heightened sense of hearing heard her boots stomp up the stairs to the front doors. Dante stood up and prepared to pounce.

The doors flew open, and Dante stepped out from behind his desk to meet Lady at the front door. Unfortunately, he miscalculated her frustration. Like a spurned cat tossed in a puddle, Lady cleared the space between the helf devil and the door, her bicolor eyes blazing. Out of range of the mistletoe. Damn it.

“Dante, what the hell is this?!” she demanded, shoving a piece of paper in his face. “Do you think this sort of thing is funny?”

Though he knew what was on the page, surprise knit his snowy brows together. “What’s wrong with it, Lady?” His lips twitched at the corners as he gazed down at his handiwork. In order to piss her off and ensure she would pay a visit to Devil May Cry, Dante had sketched a crude drawing of her with a few exaggerated features and wearing nothing but a Santa hat and taped it to her front door. At the bottom, he had written in red ink, “Have a rockin’ Christmas, Lady. Feel free to show up dressed like this next time you come to the shop. XOXO Dante.”

“What, you don’t like your Christmas card? It took me at least an hour to draw that!”

Lady snatched the drawing back from him and tore it to little bits. “Try another stunt like this and I’ll add interest to your debt, asshole.” She tossed the bits of paper in his face and stormed out of the office, leaving Dante amused but unsuccessful in his mission.

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

It took Lady two days to finally cool off and pick up her phone when he called. Perhaps Christmas Eve had softened her up or she realized his card was actually funny after all. He guessed it was the former, but either way, he convinced her to help him wrap some presents, claiming he wanted to “do it the right way” this year, instead of stuffing gifts into bags or folding newspaper shoddily around it. Claiming his lack of wrapping skills really had gotten old, Lady agreed to help him out.

Opting for a new strategy, Dante hung the mistletoe over the kitchen doorway. The perfect place to employ a sneak attack that she would never see coming. He had just finished taping it up when he heard her motorcycle’s engine from down the street. Moments later, Lady entered the shop balancing a stack of boxed gifts in her hands. One threatened to topple from the top, and Dante leaped across the shop to catch. 

“Show off,” Lady mumbled, dumping the packages in his arms. “You did buy wrapping paper, right?”

Dante carried her gifts over to the couch and laid them out on the coffee table. “Give me a little credit, Lady. I don’t always mess things up.” He grinned and nodded toward the multicolored tubes of paper leaning against the side of the couch. “I didn’t know what kind to get, so I just got your basic reds and greens with snowflakes and Santas. Festive shit.”

Moving back over to his desk, he started rummaging around, as if trying to locate tape and pins and anything else they needed to wrap presents. Lady peeled off her gloves and started for the couch. His moment. “Oh, hey, wait a sec. We gotta do this right.” The huntress paused, a dark brow raised in question. “There’s eggnog in the kitchen. You wanna go get us some while I get my gifts out?”

He was sure she was going to tell him to do it himself, snark him about how he has legs and if he wants eggnog, he can go get it himself. Finally, she rolled her eyes. “For future reference, I prefer hot cocoa.” 

Dante waited for the sound of clinking glasses before making a swift and silent move to station himself outside of the kitchen door, just out of view. He listened to her hum “Carol of the Bells” as she poured eggnog for both of them. Her footsteps reverberated off the linoleum, closer, closer, one more step…

He slid from his hiding place into the doorway, ready to pull his fellow devil hunter into a festive smooch...but he didn’t calculate that the element of surprise might work a little too well. Lady gasped at his sudden appearance and jolted backward. Eggnog spilled from the glasses and soaked the front of her shirt, pooling on the floor at her feet.

“Dante! Ugh!” 

She stomped back into the kitchen, Dante following close on her heels feeling like a guilty canine. “I didn’t mean to, Lady! Honest!” He grabbed up a hand towel. Ice blue eyes drifted to the stain, a smirk curling his lips as he extended the towel toward her soaked bosom.

“Give me that!” She snatched the towel out of his hand before he could make contact and angrily mopped up her front. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re acting more like an idiot than usual!”

Dante rubbed the back of his neck, his smirk melting away. He really sucked at this surprise kiss business. He would probably have a better chance of landing a kiss if he just asked her for it at this point.

She sighed. “I’m going to have to go home and change. Throw this in the washer before it stains.”

“What? Aw, no don’t do that!” He caught the towel when she threw it to him. “I can get you one of my t-shirts and wash your shirt for you. It’s the least I can do.”

She eyed him, searching his face for anything that suggested he meant to further humiliate her. When she found only sincerity, she huffed. “Fine. Nothing red if that’s possible.” She pushed passed him and headed back out to the living room.

Without wasting any more time, Dante dashed up the stairs two at a time and dug through his drawers. Much of what he owned did fall into the category of some shade of red or another, but he managed to find a clean black v-neck t-shirt for her buried beneath the array of crimson shirts. He pushed away thoughts of Lady dressed in only his shirt and shoved the drawer closed. For once, he opted to keep his mouth shut and not suggest that to her; he had probably done enough damage for one holiday.

He headed back down to the main floor and found Lady waiting at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed and a disgruntled expression on her face. He extended the shirt to her and managed a small smile. “It was a tough search, but I think I found you something suitable.”

Lady took the shirt and turned it over in her hands with a thoughtful hum. “It’ll do.”

With a nod, Dante turned to head to the couch and actually wrap gifts like he promised Lady. At least she didn’t have her pistol on her in that moment. He would likely be walking swiss cheese if she did. Maybe next year he would be more successful. He could start rigging up some sort of mechanism where the mistletoe followed her around, meaning she was always underneath it when she was at the shop.

“Hey, Dante.”

He turned around only for Lady to tug him down by the collar of his shirt. Her soft lips meshed with his. He slid his arm low around her waist, coaxing her body flush against his and deepening the kiss. He relished the warmth of her and the naturally sweet taste of her lips. All too soon, she pulled away, releasing his collar and taking a step back. Her cheeks were tinted a rosy pink, but she wore a shit eating grin on her lips.

“If you wanted a kiss so bad,” she jerked her thumb back toward the mistletoe dangling over the kitchen door. “All you had to do was ask.”

[devilbat]

Teachers Pet, Part 14

Warning: little bit of smut, longing and angst.

A/n: Sorry this is taking so long for updates. Had a rough few months and trying to come up with something for this chapter was rather hard.

It was like you body betrayed you. It wanted Tom just as much as he wanted you. You heart and mind had been on the same page. This was just the beginning of a hard road with him. No matter what he says to ease your mind; that everything will be fine. But there was something there creeping in the back of your mind whispering, more hurt, more pain was to come with this man if you kept going down this road. Not just with his sister and Daniel. Then there was that possibility of getting caught at school. Sure you were old enough to be with this man. But there was the fact that you were still his student and he was your professor. The dean and school board would not be pleased. And Tom would most likely loss his job, and you may not be let go from your scholarship.

Tom’s hard body pressed further against yours. You shiver as his wet clothes caused your own to get damp. Everything on this man was hard. Including his long aching member that pressed firmly against your thigh. Begging to be touched. Even you couldn’t deny wanting his length buried deep within your walls. You moaned when his hands finally moved along your curves. Firmly grabbing ahold of your ass. Tom pull his head away to look at you with longing eyes. He was about to say something but you roughly pulled his lips back to yours. Your right hand tangled into his curls. The other at the nap of his neck. Slipping you tongue between his parted lip, letting yours dance along his tongue.

Every bit of your mind tried to scream at you to slow down. But here you were still your hands peeling Tom’s wet shirt off. The pads of your fingers running along the firm tone torso. Your lips now moving on their own. Kissing along his jaw, down his neck. Taking your time. Pushing Tom against the wall behind him, soon after his shirt was discarded. Your hands moved to find his belt buckle quickly undoing it. Tom tried to speak but you couldn’t hear him you were to focus on getting Tom out of those wet clothes. Finding the zipper of his jeans. Maybe it was the faith martini that made you do it, as everything became a blur and you found yourself sinking to your knees. Something you normally wouldn’t have done. But you mind wasn’t on the what if’s any more, it was on the right now. Your left hand slipped in his pants, pulling Tom free from his wet boxers that cling to him.

“Darling you don’t ha-.” Tom attempt to speak. But once your tongue poked out from your lip, licking along the tip of his swallowed cock, he was a goner. Tom breathing came out quick and shallow. Your right hand wrapped around the base of his shaft. Your left hand braced against the wall. Leaning forward you wrapped your lips around his head, sucking hard, your tongue rolling around along the underside of his cock. Tom hissed, Taking in a shape breath. Tom looked down. Your doe eyes looking back up at him. His hand cupped your cheek. You hand started to move along his shaft. Toms eye flutter closed hitting his head against the wall.

His eyes soon shot back open when his phone started going off. He looked down at where the blasted noise was coming from. But once your head started moving, bring his cock deeper and deeper into your hot wet mouth. Tom head feel back against that wall ignoring his phone. Soon it stopped. The rhythm of your hand was in tuned with your mouth. Tom was putty into your hands and well your mouth. Hearing this man moaning your name more then once, made your heart flutter. You smiled against his cock. Then his phone went off. You rolled your eyes. Tom was about to have you stop but you pressed your tongue hard against the vein of his cock, he had all forgotten about the phone. He was very close to coming.

“Love. Fuck. I’m. About. To. Ugh.” Tom panted out, his hand tangled into your hair. Before he could do anything, his blasted phone went off again. Toms hand reaching into his jean pocket. With a heavy sigh. “Love it’s my sister, oh god just hold that mouth.” He was a panting mess. Barley able to talk right. Painfully slow letting your tongue run along the shaft, you released him. Making him gasp. Lips pulling off of him with a nice pop. You sighed in annoyance. “Shit.” Tom looked at the screen, there was five missed calls. You hand started to slowly teasing, while Tom had to call her back. You could hear his sister screaming into the phone. Figuring it was about you. You moved forward, lips parting. Ready to finish Tom off, until he tense up. Making you stop. Looking up at the man.

“What do you mean he’s not at.” Tom obviously was cut off. Tom face was filled with emotions, anger, fear and pain. Your hand left his still harden member. Which made Tom look down. Sadness hit his facial features. “YES I’ll be there.” He yelled making you jump. Tom shoved himself back into his pants. As he hung up the phone. Tom stares at his phone for a moment his knuckles turn white while he grasped his phone.

“I’m sorry.” You Mutter quickly standing to your feet. Not sure why. Tom looked away from his phone. His face still unreadable.

“Y/n, I-I got to go. Um-.” Tom trailed off. Not really sure what to do as he brushed passed you in a hurry. You eyes started to water. Not sure what was going on.

“Tom.” You called after him, your voice small. Not really sure if he had heard you. But he stopped before the front door, his hand resting on the door knob. He looking over his shoulder. He could see the pain in your eyes.

“I’ll call you when- I-I’ll call you soon love.” His voice was a bit off, somewhat harsh but still filled with some kind of worry. Tom opened the door, and walked out. Leaving you standing there stunned. Once the door shut, you broke into tears, fillinf your eyes. As you sobbed out. What just happened.

Permanent tags: @kitkatkl @lokilvrr @instantnoodlese @drakesfiance @meyoko10 @jackheart180, @miraclesoflove @wolfcore227, @mr-hiddlestons-Pet, @madleiine @teageowen @scorpionchild81 @redlipsinkorea @mintzxi @it-jinxed-us

Tom/Loki Tag’s: @theoneanna @graveyard-groupie @silverquartx @moonfaery @kcd15 @moonlightprime @youveseen--thebutcher @shockwavee @sabine-leo @screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms , @vethrvolnir, @darkprincessloki92 @archy3001 @chaoticwithpurpose @paanchu786 @metalheadspider @myownviperroom @arosewithdaisies @jilldsumner @witchbitch-stuff @too-cold-for-youhere @iamverity @sterwild @hiddlefan81 @matczvkv

Teachers pet: @somedayholland36 @lokigreyvatore @no-fuhking-idea @buckybarnesmybaby @stressbye @poeticdress @skulliebythesea @a-bot4579 @music-lockscreen @midnightdragonzero @fire-in-her-veinz @cuteandnerdythings @itshinothey redlipsinkorea, @queen-of-elves @lonelypudding @venitia89 @lilyrosebae @lokis-little-kitten @metalheadspider, @redfoxwritesstuff @captaintightpants58 @lostsoldieronahill @nightcrawler0213 @itsknife2meetu @classicswolf, @s0nh4dorasblog, @lexa-hataka, @justmesadgirl, @paanchu786, @saturnsharpe, @lokislilslut, @malina4ka

[xellychan040]

Light The Candle (Xellina)

Fandom: Slayers Characters: Lina Inverse/Xelloss Word Count: 1514 Warnings: xelloss, unbeta’d, vague allusions to Lina being Lon’s host, mazoku flirting

Summary: Her eyes slide closed and she laughs wryly, leaning imperceptively into his touch. "What a pain, I don't want to be a monster magnet."

Notes: for the Slayers Secret Santa 2019 hosted by @slayersweek. This goes out to you @glittercanblog! I’m sorry it’s late-ish and kinda short, but I hope I managed to get your prompts well enough! I feel like I’m slowly building an out of order xellina verse dsjhsdjsdhj. I didn’t lift the title from it, but this fic was written to Carino by The Marias.

i.

"You're alone," Xelloss says, dark eyes sliding open slightly, a glimmer in the gloom of the forest. Lina's fearless gaze catches his, unintimidated by the predatory appearance his split pupils give his carefully pleasant smile. He stretches out on his seat high up a towering tree, lounging across a thick branch. Making a show of looking around, searching for Gourry and the others; he tilts his head and makes a curious noise low in his throat when they fail to appear, "How unusual."

Lina's mouth purses into an unimpressed frown. "Yeah, well sometimes a girl needs her alone time for treasure hunting."

Laughing softly, Xelloss drops from his perch and wanders into her space, circling her slow and wolf-like. He puts his hands up in mock innocence when Lina snaps him a smoldering glare. "Now, now, Ms. Lina, no need for ugly looks." He rounds her left side, catching the edge of her cloak and tugging it playfully. "It's just refreshing to see you after so long."

Lina arches an eyebrow but besides the low zest of irritation, Xelloss feels no fear or trepidation from her. She crosses her arms over her lithe chest, hip jutting out and foot-tapping as she keeps him in her line of sight, "Just what do you have planned now, fruitcake?"

Xelloss smiles. "Thwarting boredom." His main body unravels in the astral plane, a thin piece of himself sliding from his physical shadow, a tendril of formless black. It threads itself with her hair, braiding into the red strands and tugging playfully.

Lina jumps with a short, startled yelp, her hands flying to her hair. Instinctively spinning around to see what it was, she turned her back to Xelloss, losing sight of him. Cutting the connection with his shadow before she can catch sight of its source, he moves in like a predator taking its chance. Curling around her right shoulder while tapping her left, making her spin in another circle, growling as she does. Wrapping his arms around her, he cups her cheek, ruffling his gloved hands through her hair, he chuckles. "It seems you've got something stuck behind your ear, Ms. Lina."

"Wha- Xelloss-" she growls, stiffening in the cage of his arms. Lovely embarrassment and annoyance blossoms up from her skin like warmth from the hearth. It tastes smooth and sweet, like a confection. He chuckles again, willing the shadow into shape and pulling it free from red strands.

Holding a dark petaled flower in front of her nose, he unravels from around her and presents the flower properly with a flourishing bow. "For you, Ms. Lina," He says, winking cheekily at her. The flower is a terrible thing, its stem dark and withered like a dead tree branch, the bloom itself the color of a fresh bruise, red veins running through each petal. At its center protruded a small cluster of white filaments, the peeking anthers like tiny fangs, giving the flower the appearance of a tiny fanged maw. 

Lina twitches, her expression flattening. "That's horrible," she says, flicking careless fingers at the flower still being held up to her. 

Not bothering to feign a pout, Xelloss smiles wider. "I think it's rather lovely."

She shakes her head, surprising him. "The flower's fine," Lina snorts, snatching it away from him and pinning it recklessly back behind her ear. A thrill goes through him, feeling a piece of himself being handled so roughly. Being kept so close. Her prideful, unwavering gaze finds his once more, pinning him in place like the flower. "It was that two-bit birthday party sorcerer's trick you pulled." A disgusted scoff leaves her, a vehement sound from such a little body. "Something behind my ear? Ugh, that's bad, even for you."

Stomping closer, chin held high and looking down her nose at him, Lina pokes him roughly in the chest, digging in her finger. "That's why I'm demanding emotional compensation."

ii.

"I'm surprised you're helping me," Lina says, her eyes intent on the faded runes embossing the spines of the two tomes in her hands. "Or rather, I'm surprised you're helping without giving me the runaround, this time."

Xelloss taps a finger to his chin, smiling vaguely. "Well, of course, Ms. Lina. We're comrades, aren't we?" After a moment, his smile widens, pleasantly grating at the corners as he slides another tome between her line of sight. "And you did ask, didn't you, Ms. Lina?"

Shoulders hunching up to her ears, Lina snatches the book away from with a snort. Her thin hip checks into his, irritation flowing over his pallet refreshingly, a little tart when surprised pleasure lances through the annoyance as she reads the rune titles. 

Like the strawberry lemonade he had once in the outerworld. 

How fitting.  

Bright eyes slide his way, something not quite like a grin quirks at the corners of her mouth. "I did ask, yeah," she begins, clever fingers flicking through the pages. The tome's ancient spine complains as she lays it across her forearm, flipped open to a diagram. 

Power whispers from the page. 

iii.

"You're always watching me," Lina says. There's no anger or accusal, just calm fact and maybe a little exasperated amusement. "I don't get it. What's the gain here? Your lord can't possibly care about one bandit killer that much," She points out, stretching out without a care, her chin propped on her palm. Her fingers and cheek are covered in smeared ink. In the low lantern light, the ink catches the flickering light, dark and glimmering. 

If Xelloss had a human's penchant for wishful thinking, he might have imaged the ink to be ichor, the burning blood of the gods and their servants. "Modesty doesn't fit you, Ms. Lina," he chides. "You know you're much more than that to the monster race."

Lina traces her fingers over the symbols, the shape of a name older than creation. Her eyes shutter, lashes fanning over her cheekbones, bronze over ivory. The silence dreams between them and Xelloss thinks of ashes and gold. He reaches out and touches her cheek, his thumb sliding over the corner of her mouth, tracing the bow of her bottom lip.

"How did you know?" Lina asks, not pulling away. Her question could be for a hundred things, from the significance of the tome, to knowing what she truly is beneath that mortal shell of hers.

The answer is all the same. She is Lina Inverse, and she has touched the golden nothingness behind creation. That's all that matters.

Xelloss smiles. "That's a secret."

Her eyes slide closed and she laughs wryly, leaning imperceptively into his touch. "What a pain, I don't want to be a monster magnet."

iv.

"Ms. Lina," Xelloss says, dark eyes burning. 

"Don't talk," she scolds, head buried in the pillow of her arms. Red hair falling sprawling atop the desk and books, framing her like a halo of flames. Her bare, pale, lithe spine curves into a fascinating arch and Xelloss traces his gloved fingers down the length of it, stopping at the waistband of her tights. The wings of her shoulder blades tense, sliding beneath her skin as he drags the ink brush from her nape to the dip in the small of her back.

"Ms. Lina," He tries again, leaning forwards, pinning her down with a steady, deceptively strong hand. Nudging his mouth against her ear, tucking back the fall of thick waves, he makes a soft, tutting sound. "I can't finish the seal if you keep squirming."

Shifting on her knees, the chair creaks beneath her, a shudder running through her tiny body. Her shoulders hunch, and she turns just enough to glare at him, red-cheeked and scowling through the veil of her hair. "Oh just get on with it, I know you're almost done." Her eyes avert, sliding to the grain of the wooden desk. Her embarrassment perfumes the room, but a sigh passes through her, and she relaxed. 

A soft hum leaves her as Xelloss swirls the brush, taking care to write the runes. A stopgap, a very small one, against the inevitable. Even Lina, as fascinating and bold as she was, couldn't fight creation, couldn't fight the void. "This is what you wanted," he reminds her, slowly, deliberately using his index finger to wipe away a stray line on the small of her back, causing her to twitch and arch under his touch. "Nothing would have stopped you from taking the manuscript and having one of your friends do this," he points out, chuckling when she hisses, tucking her hands beneath her chin, not arguing for once. 

"You know why I chose you," She says, finally. 

In a fit of what would be vanity in any other being, Xelloss signs his work with a small, toothy flower above her hip. Touching the drying ink, willing power through it, letting it sink into all that pale skin like a brand, like a claim.

Like a promise.

"Because even when you're all alone, I'll be here," Xelloss answers. 

Like a threat. Like a claim. Like an oath.

[twonewkidsonesouthpark]

Chapter 3: A Class Act

So let me get this straight; we moved in during the most intensive, town wide, elementary school LARP session the world has ever known, you’re all fighting over a goddamn TREE BRANCH, and all of you seem to think that me and my sister are the same person. Oh, and also boys, point for mom and dad, I guess. Have I covered all of the craziness happening here or am I missing something?

Lynnea knew she wasn’t going to get an answer -- Kyle seemed like a nice enough kid, besides the whole ‘quasi-abducting her under false assumptions’ thing, but Alyssa was the only person who she could really ever communicate with. Came with the twin territory, she supposed. Or just being raised in the same weird way.

“So? Will you join us?”

Part of Lynn wanted to say no, wanted to just go home and finish unpacking and not get involved in this mess… but Kyle sounded so damn hopeful and…

...when was the last time she ever got to have fun like this? As her, not her-pretending-to-be-Lyssie-pretending-to-be-the-same-person. And... well, dad DID tell them to make friends…

Fuck it. For once in their lives, she was doing something she wanted to do.

Lynnea nodded.

Kyle grinned, “Awesome! Okay, so first things first, you can choose from a few classes,” Kyle told her, leading her over to the well labeled shop, “You can be a ranger like Stan, a warrior, a mage, a healer… you can’t be a Bard unless you know how to play an instrument, that’s why Jimmy’s the only one.”

Well, that’s right out then unless being able to play a really shitty recorder counts. Go back to that healer class, can I heal AND hit things or is it just one or the other? She picked up the healer headband and the sword, holding them both out toward Kyle quisitively.

“Dude, that’s not the warrior armor,” Stan says. Lynn gave him a flat look, gesturing again to both, and hoping this wasn’t about to turn into a frustratingly stupid game of charades --

Kyle tilted his head, eyes going from the headband to the sword before something seemed to click, “Oh! You want to heal and hit shit?”

Ding ding, we have a winner!

Kyle looked contemplative, “We don’t really have a class for that, but… hm,” he tapped his fingers against his opposite arm, “I think we can manage that. Cartman’s got Butters as a Paladin, but he made that class human only, so we’d need to think up a different name for it. What do you call a healer who hits things?”

“A really bad healer?” Stan offers up.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

Lynn tapped him on the shoulder, helpfully showing him her phone screen with the wikipedia page for Cleric opened up on it, I think THIS is what you’re looking for.

Kyle read it, then nodded after a minute, “Yeah, we can totally swing that. It’s… ugh, it’s essentially the...” he mumbled something under his breath, “Class.”

Lynn blinked, then tilted her head, putting a hand up to cup behind her ear, Wanna run that one by me again, I think I just SERIOUSLY misheard you.

“Ugghhhh, Cartman called it the Jew class, alright?” Kyle said, with an exasperated roll of his eyes, “Cleric’s a way better name, though, so that’s what we’re going with.”

Wow. Ooookay then.

“Yeah,” Kyle sighed, clearly seeing the shock on her face, “Right, let’s get you geared up.”

It was a little surprising to see just how MUCH stuff the shop had accumulated, and how creative the boys had gotten with their homemade weapons. Well, if a zombie apocalypse ever hits, these guys are set. It was a little annoying to have to spend her allowance for her ‘staff,’ though. At least Kyle gave her the armor set for free, mostly because they had to pick and choose pieces from their already established classes, and helped her get the fake pointed ears on.

“Just don’t futz with ‘em too much, we tried gluing them on but well -- a couple peoples’ moms got mad,” he shrugs. Lynn dropped her hand from where she was playing with her hair, trying to get it to settle around the pointy appendages, “Okay, so, we’ve got your class, your equipment… oh, right, add me on facebook so you can stay in contact,” Kyle said, “It’s how I usually give orders, Cartman keeps trying to assassinate me every time I leave my yard,” he rolls his eyes.

Oh. Thaaaaaat was going to be a problem…

Kyle raised an eyebrow at Lynn as she fidgeted awkwardly, “Dude, what? I know you’ve got a phone, what’s the issue?” Well yeah, her parents learned that lesson that their while daughters would concede to share many things - a room, clothes, an identity - a phone would not be one of them. It had only taken a few fights for them to cave and get a second phone. But only one of them had the Facebook app downloaded, and that phone? Was in Alyssa’s possession at the moment.

Sighing, Lynn pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it over to Kyle, who looked confused as he flipped through the screens, “...you don’t have Facebook?” He finally asked when he put two and two together.

Technically, no. But it’s not like I can explain that me and my twin sister have to share a facebook page that’s heavily monitored by our parents, sooo… Lynn took the phone back, opening up her contacts, and tapping the screen next to her parents’ cell numbers, “Ohhh. Overprotective parents?” Stan guessed.

Close enough, she nodded.

“W-well, we won’t t-t-tell if yyyyyou d-don’t,” Jimmy grinned. She gave him a flat look, and the grin dropped slightly, “S-ssorry. Sore sp-pot?” She shrugged, willing to let it slide. At least he apologized.

Then her phone wasn’t in her hands as Stan took it out of her grip, “Here. I’ll make you a Facebook page, that way your parents can’t get mad at you for doing it, right?”

I am pretty sure that is NOT how that works, Stan. But she didn’t try to grab it back, letting Stan fiddle with it.

“Dude, what do I put in for your name?” Stan asked, looking up at her, and Lynnea’s brain froze up. She couldn’t tell them her real name -- for a number of reasons, the current top of the list being they thought she was a guy.

“Well not his real name, obviously, if we don’t want his parents finding the page,” Kyle saves the day, “We do need to call you something, though. Unless you want to keep going by ‘New Kid’.”

Preferably not, but I can always change it later, right? She shrugged, motioning for the phone back. She’d send all the relevant people a friend request in a minute if they didn’t beat her to it, But first, let me take a selfie, she thought with an inward giggle as she held the camera up and snapped a picture. At least she didn’t feel too out of place as the friend requests flooded in -- it looked like all of the boys had their costumes on in their profile pics, at least for the moment.

It struck her, about then that, for the first time in possibly her whole life… she had friends. Friends that were hers, not hers and Lyssie’s. Lynn blinked rapidly -- she didn’t know MUCH about these guys, but crying in front of a bunch of boys probably wasn’t going to win her points. She shoved her phone in the pocket of her new robe, looking up at them.

So… now what?

‘Now what’ was apparently teaching her the rules of the game, and how to fight -- that one, at least, she already knew. She’d gotten into enough scuffles with Lyssie over their lives to know how to defend herself, at least. And that was without the solid, somewhat sharp metal rod she now had to hit people with. She also got the privilege of holding onto a slew of health and power ‘potions’ -- snacks. At least Kyle lent her a backpack for those.

“Now that you’re fully initiated into my army, I have your first task for you,” Kyle said, hopping back up into his throne once he felt she wouldn’t make a fucking fool out of herself, “The humans will stop at nothing to retrieve the stick, so we need to take it somewhere they won’t look. Stan, I want you and the New Kid to escort the Bard back to the Inn of the Giggling Donkey. Jimmy, I’m putting you in charge of guarding the stick. We’ll get our men set up inside to keep you safe.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” Jimmy and Stan said.

Kyle grabbed the stick off the arm of his throne, handing it over to Stan, who took it with a firm nod, “Guard it with your lives. The Grand Fatass canNOT get his hands on it again,” Kyle said, “Now, go! Before they have time to regroup.”

“C’mon, New Kid, we’ll show you around town while we head to Jimmy’s -- er, the Inn,” Stan said, tucking the stick in his belt and heading toward the back door. Jimmy followed after him, pausing to shake mud and grass off the ends of his crutches before going inside. Lynn practically bounced along behind them.

Maybe this move wasn’t going to be so shitty after all.

[this-is-a-love-story-fleabag]

Fork you, then (5/?)

Fleabag saves her friend Boo’s life and earns a spot in the Good Place, but is everything here really so perfect? And what’s up with the hot priest next door? 1201 words. Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4. Also on ao3.

At some point, I should probably go and talk to Eleanor about how the guinea pigs that are destroying the neighbourhood are probably some kind of physical manifestation of my psychic pain, but right now I'm sprawled out over the priest's sofa with a belly full of pancakes while we compare notes on our secondary school war stories. I do not want to move.

"I'm just saying," I insist, waving a hand at him listlessly from within my food coma. "Harmless lesbian experimentation with one's peers is supposed to be a mainstay of teenage girl sleepover experiences, but you wouldn't believe how much work I had to put into persuading all of them."

"A real labour of love, wow," says the priest from behind an enormous mug of tea, basking in the morning light like a large, muscular cat. "I'm not going to ask how you cracked it."

Strip Twister, but whatever.

At some point, I should probably go and talk to Eleanor about how the guinea pigs that are destroying the neighbourhood are probably some kind of physical manifestation of my psychic pain, but right now I'm sprawled out over the priest's sofa with a belly full of pancakes while we compare notes on our secondary school war stories. I do not want to move.

"I'm just saying," I insist, waving a hand at him listlessly from within my food coma. "Harmless lesbian experimentation with one's peers is supposed to be a mainstay of teenage girl sleepover experiences, but you wouldn't believe how much work I had to put into persuading all of them."

"A real labour of love, wow," says the priest from behind an enormous mug of tea, basking in the morning light like a large, muscular cat. "I'm not going to ask how you cracked it."

Strip Twister, but whatever.

"What do boys do at sleepovers? Pillow fights?"

"We mostly just played Street Fighter."

"Ah, so you spent the night hadoukening each other." I do my best to make this sound dirty. "Not that different, then."

He gives me a fond look and changes the subject. "Were you a girly girl?"

"Not really. I always quite liked it when people mistook me for a boy. You can get away with a lot more stuff."

"How about these days?"

"You mean, am I a woman-ey woman?"

"Yeah."

I wrinkle my nose for a second, thinking. "It doesn't matter so much any more. I mean, I have the genitals, but... it's great being an adult, I can wear dresses and still climb trees whenever I want and nobody can really stop me."

"That's one good thing about being a priest," he agrees, "you can wear dresses in a lot of situations where it would usually be considered inappropriate."

"They're very freeing, aren't they? As long as you don't mind people seeing your knickers." I never mind people seeing my knickers.

In fact, I rather encourage it.

"Your discourse on gender is very nuanced," he smirks. "Have you thought of writing a paper on it?"

"Fork you."

I actually like that he's both a man of God and a sarcastic bastard. Very well-rounded.

Once I've recovered from the pancakes, I reluctantly bid him goodbye to make my way up to Eleanor's office to come clean about the guinea pig debacle.

"If you want to talk more, I'll be here," he assures me as I walk out of his door, waving to me like a huge dork.

I'm so in there.

Eleanor is nowhere to be found when I arrive, but Michael is pacing the room in a bit of a tizzy.

"Come in, I'm so sorry about all this," he says, waving me through the door. "I don't know what's gone wrong in the neighbourhood!" he frets. "It's supposed to be a paradise, not some horrible swamp full of rodents of unusual size."

"R.O.U.S.'s? I doubt they exist," I say automatically.

"What?"

"Never mind. Look, this was definitely my fault."

"Oh, that's nice of you to say," he says faintly, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief, "but it must have been us."

"Michael, I'm not nice," I say intensely. "That's my point. I forked up every good thing in my life and now I'm forking up heaven. You need to reassess me."

He sits down at his desk with a heavy sigh. I can tell he doesn't believe me, but he wants to make me feel better. "Fine," he huffs. "I'll ask you some questions about your life on earth and then we can go through the main points-affecting actions you made and we'll see if we made a mistake, but I just don't think that's what the problem is."

He brings out a little cube, which glows white as he places it down on the desk between us.

"Right, I guess we should start with the basics." He consults a list in front of him, written in an incomprehensible language. "Have you ever 'liked' a tweet that was written by Piers Morgan?"

"Ugh, no." The little box honks and turns green.

"OK. Have you ever scanned an item at the self-service checkout at the supermarket as carrots, to avoid paying full price?"

I have to think about that one for a second - it sounds like the kind of thing I would do, but it had never really occurred to me. "No?" I say eventually. The box honks green again. Phew.

"Did you ever become emotionally invested in an episode of the Jeremy Kyle show?"

"No." I mean, I have watched it, but if you want me to get emotionally invested in a TV show you have to make the people more attractive.

He puts down his pen. "See, you've done very well on the preliminary questions, but I guess we can still check your file." He flips through the sheaf of papers in front of him. "OK, here's the main list of point-losing activities from your time on Earth. It all seems fairly standard, nothing that really stands- oh," he finishes, alighting on one entry.

This is it, this is where he finally finds out about Boo, and what I did, and-

"It says here that you once slut-shamed... a pizza?" he says incredulously, screwing up his face to squint at the page.

I'm stunned into silence for a second. He's not actually wrong, though. "I didn't do it out loud," I manage weakly.

"Yeah, well, it still counts," he says, scanning through the text. "OK, maybe this needs another looking over, but I really don't think you have anything to worry about. Why don't you go out and enjoy the sunshine?"

"That pizza was asking for it," I mumble as I walk out of the door.

"That cannot possibly be the case," Michael calls out after me.

Whenever I need to clear my head, I go for a run. There's a cleanup operation going on in the town square, but nobody asks me to help, so I don't have to. This place is full of nice little paths and big green fields to jog through, and I power through them as fast as I can, lungs burning. How fast do you have to run before you can outrun your problems?

I used to go jogging through the graveyard every day, pop in and say hi to mum and then get on my way. It wasn't a big deal, it was just a convenient place to run.

There's a huge tree on the outskirts of the neighbourhood, with a broad, sturdy nook in the centre that looks like it would be comfortable to sit in. Remembering my earlier conversation with the priest, I decide on a whim to climb it, shinning up the trunk and squeezing between the branches until I make it into the centre, where I can lie down along the wide bough and look out over the landscape. There are trees dotted everywhere, vivid blossoms, vast shimmering lakes, and perfect blades of grass as far as the eye can see.

It's a beautiful place. I'm going to fucking destroy it if someone doesn't stop me.

[beyond-the-mirror]

Nocturnal Encounters - An Incubus! V x Reader story

It’s been a long time but the second night is finally ready! In which the reader is plagued by dreams of our lanky boi and she wonders who he really is. Next chapter they will finally meet personally I promise!

It’s a quite long chapter and once again I hope you don’t mind.

Second Night: Dreams

Your eyes fluttered open at the warm sunlight that filtered through the curtain, letting out a long yawn before sitting up and stretching your arms.

Normally you were a light sleeper, more often than not you would feel a little heavy and drowsy at mornings, you were not a morning person after all. However this particular day was different, not only were you feeling quite rested, but your sleep wasn’t interrupted at all last night. Maybe you were more tired than you believed? But then you remembered the dream, how it felt completely different and unusual from others that you had before.

Shaking your head from your thoughts, you reached your hand towards the alarm clock on the nightstand. Checking the hour your eyes widened, no wonder you felt so rested.

“What?! I overslept?! Ugh, stupid alarm!”

You shot out of bed and right into the bathroom, taking a shower and getting ready at mach speed. There’s no way you could afford getting late to work, not after you had so much trouble finding this new job.

After putting on something decent to wear today, you headed to the balcony to quickly water your plants. You had just finished when something caught your eye, a single feather tucked under one of the pots stood out. Curiosity had once again taken the best of you as you picked up the feather and inspected it closely, its dark midnight color mesmerizing you with the way light reflected on it revealing blue and purple hues. Running your fingers through the feather’s elegant, sharp silhouette , you found its texture so incredibly soft and smooth, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of bird could have such gorgeous plumage.

“So beautiful, maybe a crow flew over here, or a raven perhaps…” You muttered to yourself. Now that you think about it, you were in need of a new bookmark since you lost your previous one, this feather could be an excellent replacement, of course you would have to clean it first.

Suddenly your mind was brought to the present once again

“Gah! Stop wasting time (Y/N), we have a job to keep!”

Quickly grabbing all your stuff, you rushed to the door, not even stopping to eat some breakfast before leaving for your job. You were definitely going to feel a lot hungry this morning.

The same dream kept coming back over and over again. Every night you would find yourself in a different scenario, a garden, a pond, a clearing in the middle of a forest… and in every single case, the same man would appear before you, always embracing you, always caressing you, and always whispering poetry in your ear.

The first few times you thought nothing of it, but as time went by you started to become wary, not to mention the fact that the dreams were all strangely lucid and that since that first night, you have been sleeping for longer than usual. Who was this man? Why did this particular dream overwhelmed you so? What did his presence mean? After all, people say that sometimes dreams carry an important message with them.

Many times you tried to talk to the man in your dreams, to ask him the reason for his constant visits, yet you never could. It's almost as if he kept you in some kind of trance that numbed you and made you feel lighter, a warmth enveloping your entire being that lulled you into submission. At the end he would always turn you around in his arms and lean towards you, your eyelids fluttering close as his breath fanned across your lips, but just moments before you could feel his kiss you would wake up.

To be honest you were scared, your thoughts wandering around any possible explanation to your current predicament. One thought crept to your mind, one that made a cold shiver run through your spine

Demon

Attacks were uncommon in the city but definitely not unheard of, though they were not frequent and they’re usually dealt with by a locally infamous demon hunter, there was still a small possibility that one could have found its way into your mind. Still, you had never heard of a demon that could interfere with dreams, so maybe the idea was a little farfetched after all.

You looked at your alarm clock, the numbers displayed marking fifteen minutes to midnight. Letting out a sigh you closed the book you were unsuccessfully trying to read in order to help you relax, tucking the black feather you had found a week earlier between the pages. Reaching for the lamp on the nightstand you turned off the light, reciting a short prayer before pulling the covers over yourself.

It was only a matter of time before he arrived.

“A recurring dream you say?”

“Yes, it’s always the same every night. I have never met this man in my life, and yet he is always there”

You were having a conversation with your best friend, having decided that you definitely needed someone to vent out your worries and maybe ask an advice. She had invited you to the small coffee shop near your workplace for lunch before you had to go back to your job.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you, my dear, have a crush on somebody”

“Now is not the time for jokes! I’m genuinely concerned about this”

“Sorry sweetie, you know can’t help but tease you a bit” She booped your nose gently, making you giggle. Although she couldn’t really solve your problem, she was definitely succeeding in making you feel a lot better.

“Maybe it’s trying to tell you something, like someone new you’re about to meet? Or maybe a person you’ve already met but just don’t remember?”

“Honestly, I don’t even know. Though I can assure that if I already met him, I would definitely remember him” You let out a sigh. She immediately reached for your hand to support you.

“Don’t worry sweetie, nothing bad has happened so long right? I mean, from what you told me you’re still able to rest at night. If you’re worried about your job and oversleeping, you can always go to bed a bit early than normal to compensate, maybe that’ll help?”

“I suppose you’re right, thank you, I really needed that” You smiled, she stood for a moment to give you a hug. 

“If anything happens or you start feeling unwell, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll do anything in my power to help”. You can’t help but thank the heavens for gifting you such an amazing friend.

You decided to change the topic and spend the rest of your lunchtime just hanging out and relaxing with your best friend.

Running to the bus stop, you managed to catch it on time before it left. Today was a really busy day, forcing you and your coworkers to stay overtime and catch up with pending work. The only thing worrying you is that it was already dark outside, you just hoped the walk to your apartment will be uneventful.

You were reading your book when you noticed the bus already approaching to the stop near your home, closing it immediately and putting it in your purse, the feather still marking the pages you left on.

Once your feet where on the sidewalk you took a deep breath, just a few minutes of walking and you’ll be back in the comfort of your home. However as you continued, you couldn’t help but feel nervous as you noticed the street being unusually quiet and empty, you knew what they said about quiet nights in Red Grave. Just a few more steps though, you clutched your purse tightly, just a few more-

“Well then, what do we have here?”

A tall figure stepped out of an alley stopping you in your tracks. By the way the person slurred his words, you could tell he must have been drinking.

“P-Please excuse me, you’re in my way” a small stutter left your lips and you cursed yourself silently for acting so meek at such moment. You tried walking around the tall man, but just as you thought he was going to leave you alone he took your wrist in a strong grip.

“Let me go right now!”

“Hey that’s a nice bag you have there, maybe if you hand it over nicely I will consider letting you go” His putrid breath could reach your nose and it almost made you vomit, yet you maintained your ground and refused to give him what he wanted.

“I said LET. GO!” With a quick shift of your weight, you used your free arm to elbow the man in the stomach, following immediately with a strong kick right between his legs. As soon as your wrist was free, you immediately bolted towards your apartment, thanking the heavens above that you took those self-defense lessons last year.

“You BITCH!” You heard your attacker scream behind you, right before his running steps started to be heard. If he was armed or not you didn’t care and you definitely were not going to look back, the only thing in your mind was running non stop until your reached your home.

The beat of your heart pounded in your ears just as strongly as the steps behind you. The door to the building was right there, you immediately dug in the pockets of your jeans for the key without slowing down a single moment. Almost. Almost there. Your hand grasped the door handle right at the same time you felt a breath on the back of your neck. Time seemed to stop, looks like you were not going to make it after all. You closed your eyes and braced yourself, and then-

A yelp of pain erupted from behind you. You were shaking uncontrollably, curling over yourself waiting for the man to attack you… but nothing happened. Slowly, you opened your eyes and even though you were scared to, you forced yourself to turn around.

He was gone. Your attacker was nowhere to be seen, as if he had just vanished in thin air. Your legs wobbled and gave away, hands holding onto the door handle for dear life and your heart in your throat beating as if it were about to explode. Steadying yourself, you inserted your key in the door and ran up the stairs to your apartment.

You didn’t bother to cook dinner, the incident made you lose your hunger completely. Instead you immediately changed into your pajamas and boiled some water to make yourself a cup of tea to try to calm your nerves.

After emptying your cup, you climbed on your bed hoping to get some sleep. You were safe. You were safe.

Once again you found yourself inside a dream, this time you were laying on a large bed in the middle of a white bedroom, a tall glass door in front of you led to a beautiful rose garden, looking down at yourself you were now wearing a white silk nightie that barely covered your behind.

A tap against the floor sounded behind you and you turned around right away. There he stood once again, the green-eyed man.

He was tall and lanky, black ink flowed through the entirety of his torso and arms, he wore a long black vest with ties on the front laced in a corset-like fashion, as well as a pair of skinny black trousers with a chain on the side, he was completely barefoot and you noticed a silver cane on his right hand, that must have been the source of the sound.

He approached slowly and placed his cane gently against the wall beside him, he leaned towards you and scooped you in his arms, carrying you bridal style towards a door behind him. To be fair he was making you quite nervous, and yet you once again  found yourself relaxing at his touch.

The door led to a bathroom, you noticed a tub filled with water surrounded by a few candles, petals and water lilies floating gently on the surface of the water. The man put you down on your feet and ran his hands soothingly up your arms, taking the straps that held your dress up, he gently pulled them off your shoulders, letting the nightie fall swiftly on the floor.

With a small gasp, you lifted your arms to cover your breasts and preserve your modesty, but with a soft kiss on the side of your neck he took your wrists in his hands and slowly lowered them, revealing your naked form to him.

“Sweet dreams form a shade, o'er my lovely infants head. Sweet dreams of pleasant streams, by happy silent moony beams.” He whispered into your ear like every other dream, once again carrying you in his arms and lowering you gently into the bathtub. The water felt cool against your skin, the scent of the candles and the flowers relaxing you more so. Taking a seat behind you, the man used his hands to take some of the water and pouring it over your shoulders and neck, never once stopping his poetry. You couldn’t help the small moans and whimpers that left your lips.

“Sweet moans, dovelike sighs, chase not slumber from thy eyes. Sweet moans, sweeter smiles, All the dovelike moans beguiles.” His hands took one of the lilies that floated around and placed it behind your ear, tucking your hair before placing a kiss on your temple. His hands kept massaging your body, his voice and ministrations keeping you in trance like always.

Suddenly, you found the energy you needed to finally speak. “Who… who are you?”

His hands froze completely, not a single sound could be heard except your breath.

“You… you always appear in my dreams, every time you embrace me and hold me in your arms like… like a lover would. And yet, I don’t know absolutely anything about you.”

He still didn’t move or make any sound. “May I at least… know your name?”

Finally, the man took a deep breath before answering “… You may call me V”

V… what a strange name. You considered the possibility that wasn’t his real name to begin with.

“May I know why are you always in my dreams?”

“… I’m afraid now is not the right time for you to know yet. But I can assure you, all your questions shall be answered eventually.”

You pouted, finally you ha gained the strength to talk to him and now he won’t give you any answers. You felt his fingers tipping your chin up, making you look into his green eyes.

“Little wanderer, I will not let anyone or anything hurt you again. Fear not my little one, for I shall keep you safe and protected, that is my promise to you.” With those last words, his long fingers tapped into the center of your chest, making you fall in that deep trance once again.

Like all other dreams before, you were completely at his mercy.

The human whimpered pathetically on the floor, crying desperately in fear of the creature before him who gave him a look of utmost disgust. The wound on his side was bleeding, painting the concrete beneath his figure crimson red.

“P-Please, p-please… I beg you… M-mercy, m-mercy…”

The demon huffed in annoyance “You bore me deeply human, I have decided that you are simply unworthy of my time, let alone killing you”

Sharp, pointed claws waved in a dismissive manner, which the human took as a sign to scramble to his feet and flee in terror. The creature lifted his hand to his lips, licking them clean from his unfortunate victim’s blood. He moaned at the delicious taste, though it was not his preferred food, a bit of the red liquid made a sweet treat from time to time.

His mind then went to the girl he encountered weeks prior, after all, if it weren’t for that small gift he left on her balcony he wouldn’t have been able to help her from that filthy scum that just left. A lustful groan left him, he couldn’t help but imagine that the blood in his claws was actually her own essence, thus making his tongue start lapping at a much more vigorous pace. Oh how he wanted to take her, claim her for himself. But he had to be patient, if she was going to give herself to him, it had to be out of her own volition. Incubi prided themselves on their ability to bring their partners absolute bliss and pleasure, and although sadly some don’t follow that nature, he proudly considered himself to be one of the former.

“Little wanderer, I will not let anyone or anything hurt you again. Fear not my little one, for I shall keep you safe and protected, that is my promise to you.”