#who cares if I wear these and my gummy bear leggings together

[irollforinitiative]

I got Lisa Frank crocs and they’re honestly the best thing I’ve purchased in a while. They look like a unicorn shit on them. I can’t wait to wear them in public with no shame.

[seokjinsonlyone]

niche boyfriend things i think bts would do

a/n: friendly reminder that bts are my boyfriends i claim da whole crew <333

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

namjoon:

he writes you letters like yeah he communicates with you in normal ways of course but every once in a while he’s overwhelmed with what he feels for you and pulls out his journal and writes you a letter he doesn’t send every one he writes to you but they exist

forehead kisses

he’s very conscious of his surroundings especially when you’re around he wants to protect you to keep you safe so if you’re walking side by side and for some reason you end up on the side closest to the street he pulls you in and switches sides with you

pillow talk!!!!! he gets sleepy and spills his guts starts talking all metaphorical and poetic and you just gotta give him a little kith to bring him back down to earth

if you sent him to the store to get something he’d get distracted and come back with everything except what you asked for but would always go back and get what you needed tho when you hit him with the 😐🤨

100% enables your plushie addiction like if he’s out and he sees one he goes back and forth over whether he should get it bc he knows you have so many but ultimately decides to get it bc he loves how excited you get when you see it and how you hug it and immediately find a home for it on your bed or shelf

calls you baby so much you get culture shock if he ever says your actual name

when you wanna spend time with him without interrupting his methods of relaxation he reads to you <333

gives you a crash course on botany so you can take care of his plants when he’s away like there’s an actual test that he makes you take on direct vs indirect sunlight and the amount of water each one gets etc; makes a nifty little chart detailing the care instructions anyway bc he doesn’t trust you to remember; checks in weekly to see if you’ve followed through

makes pinky promises when he’s super serious; pinky promises he’ll get some rest, he won’t work himself to the bone, he’ll tell you when things get hard, he’ll love you forever; he hasn’t broken one yet

seokjin:

would get you guys a set of those friendship lamps that you’re supposed to tap when you’re missing/thinking about the other person <333 but he’d only tap it when it’s the middle of the night you’d be sound asleep at 3am and all of a sudden your room get lit up like spongebob when he was vibing with the jellyfish

he texts you good morning and good night everyday without fail

uses you as an excuse to get out of social situations so sometimes you’ll come home at night and he’s just there on your computer playing games and you’re like ???? and he’s like i told them i had plans with you and didn’t want to be a liar

you’re his go to drinking buddy so he texts you at odd hours and inappropriate times to get drinks like it’ll be 10 am on a tuesday and you’ll have just gotten your wisdom teeth taken out the day before and he’ll text you when you get out of bed to change your gauze talm bout “drinks???” like dawg no 💀

offers you the first bite of whatever he’s having whether it’s his dinner some ice cream a sip of his drink his gummy bears whatever you always get first pick even if you have your own

gets shy about asking you on a date all face flushed red in the ears even if you’ve been together for a while; has led to him on separate occasions casually inviting you over to his place only for him to answer the door with his hair slicked back wearing slacks and a button up after having cooked you a three course gourmet meal and you’re standing there in leggings and a hoodie with a hole in the sleeve

literally only cares about your opinion like if he wants to wear something and twenty people including his stylists are telling him it look goofy but you say it’s a vibe he’s gonna go head and wear it

not a fan of pda but at the same time he can’t find it in himself to break the tradition of kissing you in greeting no matter who’s around

if you’re carrying something no matter how light or heavy it is when he sees you you won’t be bc he’s holding it for you

answers the phone whenever you call no matter what time zone he’s in and stays on as long as you need him to

yoongi:

if you was sitting down side by side he would have one arm wrapped around you resting on your hip

he talks about you like all the time like if y’all was hanging out everyone knows bc he’s mentioned it like six times or if anything was ever said or did that resembled something you said or did he’s gonna say how it reminded him of the time you… your name just always gon be in his mouth

there’s a folder on his computer with all the voice memos you’ve ever sent him saved so he can listen to them back whenever he misses you; has definitely sampled some in songs that may or may not see the light of day

when you get curious about how he does what he does he shows you and lets you mess around on his equipment helping you make beats and add sounds and what not and actually develops the tracks he thinks may have potential

complains about you fussing over him whenever he’s sick or injured but lowkey loves and expects it like if you didn’t he’d go around with his lip poked out acting like an abandoned kitten until you started fussing over him again

even tho he doesn’t really drink it anymore he makes you coffee every morning

indulges in your hobbies even if he doesn’t particularly care for it like will spend 6 hours building an 1800 piece lego set with you just bc you asked

always consults you on which selfies he should post so you gotta sit there and play spot the difference tryna figure out if he should post the one where his smirk is set at a 45° angle or 47° angle

lowkey possessive like if you’re out and someone approaches you and starts talking to you for longer than 30 seconds he’s gonna nonchalantly slide over to you and wrap his hand around your waist not bc he’s insecure in y’all relationship in anyway but he just wants everyone to be aware that you’re spoken for

you watch videos on his phone together in bed blanket over your laps you tucked up under his arm sharing one set of earphones you get the right and he gets the left

hoseok:

holds your hand in the car while he driving

he leans on you a lot like whenever y’all sitting next to each other his head is on your shoulder; almost exclusively the big spoon when cuddling tho

always brings you back something from wherever he’s travelled to even if he didn’t get a chance to go out much and it’s just like a candy bar from the airport or sumn like if you visit him in the middle of tour you gotta bring an empty bag just for the presents he got you

facetimes you whenever he’s on lunch break sometimes he goes to find a quiet place where y’all can chat while he eating other times he let the chaos ensue and you gotta talk to everyone and listen as they all slurp and smack on whatever they got

makes you take pictures with him as soon as you wake up like you’ll be barely coherent face puffy eyes swollen dried up drool caked up on the corner of your lip and he pulling out his ole reliable polaroid and making you pose

randomly compliments you like you’ll be in the middle of some odd rant about how different colored m&m’s should have different flavors or how ranch is the inferior salad dressing and he’ll just interrupt you with a “you’re so pretty” and then urge you to continue on as if he didn’t just fluster you

custom orders matching bonnets for you two his has your face on it and yours has his face on it

paints your toes in exchange for you painting his fingers; nearly sabotages his own work and gets kicked bc he can’t resist the urge to tickle your feet

on days where you don’t have anything going on and can tag along with him doing this and that he likes to pick out your outfit; he dresses you in a similar fashion to his self and says that you’re his mini me for the day; happens often enough that everyone picks up on it and your new nickname is actually junior

has an entire photo album dedicated to pictures of you; prints out his favorite ones and starts a scrapbook detailing the timeline of your relationship and random memories of things you’ve done and places you’ve been together

jimin:

whenever he feels compelled he will bite your neck and there will be a hickey left in his wake

pretty much holds you hostage whenever he’s not working like constantly coaxing you into staying the night or weaseling his way into your place and when they had that 2 month break…..y’all lived together; is currently searching for a location to make that a permanent situation

loves to mess with you when you’re relaxing like you could be laying on the couch watching something on netflix and he gon come and lay on top of you with a smug smirk on his face and while you whining and squirming and pushing trying to get him off you he’s pretending he doesn’t know what’s going on like you’re not there

your health and happiness is very important to him and it’s his personal to mission make sure nothing and no one gets in the way of that even yourself so he nags a lot always asking if you took your vitamins making sure you’re appropriately dressed for the weather always checking up on you bothering you when he knows you’re not doing well so you’ll talk to him it’s annoying sometimes but you know it’s from a place of love 💞

whenever he goes somewhere without you he make sure to take plenty of pictures and even makes notes in his phone so he can give you an accurate play by play of everything he saw and did bc he wants to experience everything with you even when he can’t; makes it a point to bring you back to the spots he really enjoyed so you can see it for yourself too

lays his head in your lap and shakes it around until you get the hint and start playing in his hair

loves to make himself feel big and make you feel small by pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you but switches up in general when it comes to cuddling sometimes he wants to be your man other times he wants to be your baby ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

if by some grace of god he wakes up in the morning when he doesn’t have a schedule he makes the both of you breakfast to eat in bed

if he ever notices you online shopping just browsing and adding the things you like to the cart he’ll buy it out for you once you’re finished with or without your knowledge

butterfly kisses

taehyung:

no matter how long he been sleep if you join him he’s gonna latch onto you he could be sleep for five hours been hugging a pillow the whole time but as soon as he feel that bed dip from you getting in his arm will be wrapped around your waist

he makes you playlists

always makes sure he looks good for you like if it’s a scheduled date there’s a 90% chance he’s showing up in a suit regardless of the activity planned even if it’s just like a random trip to the grocery store he’s at least slicking his hair back before picking you up; he never expects you to follow suit tho always tells you to wear whatever you want whatever is comfortable so there’s definitely photos somewhere in your gallery of him in slacks and a blazer with padded elbows while you’re in jeans and an oversized sweatshirt

midnight drives with no destination in mind just the open road windows down if the weather’s nice and good vibes

whenever there’s a couple days that he’s not filming anything he’ll let his facial hair grow out with the sole purpose of rubbing his stubbly cheeks across your face simply bc he knows it irritates you

massages your feet after a long day

prides himself on being a gentleman so he always has to open the car door for you when you ride together; if you open it yourself to get out he’s gonna hit you with the 😐👉🚗 and make you go back in so he can do it for you

complains that he’s tired of takeout and begs and begs until you agree to meal prep for him so he won’t starve when he’s left alone also your leftover fairy <333 whenever you cook he get a plate or two

sulks if he doesn’t have your undivided attention

definitely for special occasions but also just randomly gifts you flowers like he’ll pull up to the crib just to deliver flowers to you simply bc he felt like it; you’ll ask him what the flowers are for he’ll shrug and say just because ask if you like them and when you smile and say yeah he’ll kiss you on your cheek then turn to leave at which point you have to pull him back and convince him to either come in or take you with him bc he can’t just make you fall in love with him all over again and leave

jungkook:

he plays with your hair like if you have type 1/2 hair i can see him mindlessly twirling the ends around his finger and if you have type 3/4 hair he pulls at the strands and watches them bounce back into place

stares at you dreamily when you’re not looking (and blushes when you do catch him)

never asks for kisses just crowds your space and puckers his lips and waits for you to close the gap no matter how long it takes except for when he really wants one then he’ll squeeze your cheeks with one of his hands and bring your lips to his

plays in your hair and makeup when he’s bored like you’ve definitely come home and seen him chilling in one of your wigs sporting a cherry red lip and blue eyeshadow it’s not even surprising anymore you’re just helping him work on his color combos and blending technique at this point

he be stealing 😭 like you’ll be in the middle of making spaghetti or sumn and you look on your spice rack and the oregano rosemary and thyme nowhere to be found lo and behold he done took it for whatever he was cooking last week and never brought it back

your butt is actually just a resting pad for his hands he pats it every time he walks past you and if you’re ever laying on top of him his hands may start wrapped around your back but in due time they’re at your butt just rubbing bc he likes the feel of it it’s comforting to him

develops a “what’s yours is mine” mentality for some reason like you’ll have a water bottle and before you even can sit it down he’s taking it and gulping some down or you’ll be watching tv together and you’ll get up and get your pint of ice cream and sit back down and next thing you know he getting up and coming back with a spoon of his own as if you extended an invitation to your snack

when you get restless at night he sings you to sleep 🥺

self designated dj of the relationship like super obsessed with setting the mood you gotta fight to get a song in edgewise

will do your skin care routine for you when you feel lazy all you gotta do is remove your makeup and wash your face and he’ll take care of the rest spends a good 10 minutes gently and thoroughly rubbing in your toner and all your serums and moisturizers

[i8jisoo]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader

felix x reader | part six of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff

↬ warnings; pregnancy, slight relation to sex, birth

↬ notes; this took so long lmfao i just had it sitting but i’m finishing up seungmin rnnn 🤓 i’ve been doing requests whew i just have EVERYTHING coming at once

u guys r really surprised 

u two had been in a relationship for four years now so this was inevitable as u two were putting off the pressure of marriage for awhile now

“woah, i’m gonna be a dad!! does this mean u have to call me daddy now?”

0_0

u r s e n s i t i v e

felix first notices this when he gives u a kiss in the morning n ur crying like two seconds after

:((

“why are you crying??!”

“you just leave so early and i miss you!!”

felix skips the day, not rly caring he just wants to cuddle u 🥺

speaking of cuddling u two r so cuddly together now

u guys just cant get enough of each other

ur at practice less often just bc of media and he thinks the house is safer for u

so the boys come over a ton more to the dorm just bc they wanna see u and spend time with u

he is so cute, whenever he sees you he’ll instantly be on his knees to kiss your baby bump and leave u with a light kiss on ur lips

u guys go to ur scan at the beginning of the second trimester

its hush hush and ofc felix has u with the best doctor hes heard of 

his hands are clammy asf, hes smiling and so dazed while he stares at the ultrasound

“look at that!! baby a and baby b!!”

felix is like, 

“oh im gonna pass out”

now he gets these corny ass JOKES like

“wow lix has really GOOD swimmers!!!”

“felix knows his way around the bedroom!!!!!!!!”

poor baby jeongin :( they are POLLUTING HIS MIND

he doesnt but this boy is scared shitless now, two babies?? thats a lot to handle

he likes to shop, a lot. 

for some reason everything is dog themed, puppies on everything and he’ll come home with bags of baby stuff everyday

lix is just so in love with your body

sweaters, t-shirts, hoodies, anything he owns, he 100% wants you to wear it

he might be a little excited at the thought of u in his clothes, it was usual but now u pregnant, he was a little MORE excited

abnormally this guy worships your body 100% 

he loves how easily you can just unravel, to the point of tears and have u begging for him to stop

ok lemme not ill start writing shit type smut anyways chile yes lix loves u A LOT in and out of the bedroom

mmm he’ll always be brainstorming names

aeygo for the babies 🥺

tons of kisses he has plenty to go around

he acquires a new skill called cooking 😣

ur his new favorite taste tester

he’ll read books for them both

tons of research on expecting twins and what to do

“hey, okay.. so i bought a pregnancy pillow, and like, i wanna use it?”

felix has this smirk, holding the huge pillow that is supposed to be a maternity one, but he much prefers himself using it as a regular pillow

he actually goes public with this, knowing that the fans adored u after being his girlfriend for so long nd u soon became a favorite for them

some shit like ‘stays meet your new members’ 😣

this guy has a knack for painting, his newest canvas is your large baby bump, doodling little flowers n hearts or animals on it, sometimes painting characters on it or whatever it may be

u two have this rly cute vlive together which consists of him painting ur baby bump, plenty of fun while he asked stays to tell him what to draw on ur bump :v

“ooh!! a ladybug!!”

he posts the finished project in nice high quality on their official instagram, showing off the many things he had painted

the dreaded bed rest comes into play

u are now nearing seven months, which meant that u should be experiencing labor or maybe labor pains soon

he takes his paternal leave, now indulging in ice-cream and gummy bears with u, rather than working out and drinking nasty smoothies

guess who has that sympathy weight 

(jk he just uses it as an excuse so he can just give up on his diet)

sleep all day

sleep all night

u two are honestly so tired for WHATEVER reason

lix is there to be a cuddle bug, pulling ur back close to his body, ur legs entwined and his hand on top of ur own that was on ur bump

its rly cute just try and picture it for a moment

u guys r trying everything to hurry and get to the end of this seemingly forever pregnancy

he’ll def buy two yoga balls instead of just one for u and he’ll bounce on them with u

who cares ab trying to hurry up y’all are having so much fun regardless of the fact u have to pee every ten minutes

u both forget the thought of it and just go with the flow

making a deal to go with the names for whomever u claimed aka baby a or baby b

i see ur guys timing to be during the summer so its miserable in ur house

its hot n stuffy

u two r just lounging n u both have popsicles, then ur just like

“oh! oh.”

it was a steady gush of fluid between ur legs and that was when the nervousness set in

u two just look at each-other in shock

“oh! we’re having a baby- um.. wow!”

he is abnormally good at keeping calm, helping u keep ur breathing steady and getting everything together 

felix is a pro.

u guys r kinda chilling in the parking lot just quiet and sort of nervous that the next time ur walking out of there you both will have not one, but two babies

“i don’t know if i’m ready yet.”

felix groans, grabbing ur hand

“ur right, ur more than ready. look at us!! parents of two in at least the next twenty-four hours!!” 

his hands r around u in a second to help u up and there to help u walk in

u two honestly decide to play games on ur phone to kill time

felix crawls into ur bed, seeing as how u looked extremely lonely, letting his arms and legs wrap around u n he’s just playing with ur hair

its honestly adorable

u two are really tired for whatever reason, falling asleep like this before u would be consumed in the late nights of being parents

these nurses wake u both up and are just like

“let’s see if we’re ready to meet ur babies!!”

felix is kinda scared but nonetheless he’ll grab ur hand and hold onto it with a smile

10cm woo!

if he wasn’t hyping u up before he is hyping u up right now

ur somewhat laughing and crying while in pain

yall r so weird

felix is there to wipe ur face with the wet cloth, or to give u a sip of water, rly whatever u need he is on it

poor baby just wants to be of help

“here’s baby a! it’s a girl!”

u two have at least a moment with her, taking in her small appearance, felix holding her out for u to see

abruptly cut off by baby b needing to make an appearance

“i don’t wanna do this again.”

“it’s alright, shh. we’re going to have two babies, two perfect ones. we have one little girl, let’s get ready for the next one, yeah? our two babies, you’re doing so good.”

they take away ur little girl while felix does what he already did beforehand

“here’s your second one!! we have a pair of sisters!”

u and felix are so overjoyed at this news, literally sobbing, u two r a mess

both r brought over to u, felix taking in the fact he’s a father of two girls, such small girls

ur both smiley while u kiss them n cuddle them, getting the nurse to take a picture of u two

ur obviously tired, felix emotionally worn out but having the brightest smiles on ur faces while u hold onto ur pair of newborn girls

he’s so proud, he’s the definition of a proud father

lix is holding onto one and he comes over to you, the other one cooing

“that’s it, my three girls.”

©️ maysdiors 2020 :: all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[belovedbangtan]

Simple Things | jjk

🅁🄴🅀🅄🄴🅂🅃🄴🄳

||| Masterlist |||

𝙿𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶: Boyfriend!Jungkook x Reader

𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃: 3.5k

𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈: Based on the song Simple Things by Miguel! Highly recommend listening to the song before reading! (song fic request are my FAV, give me more please!?)

𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂: Weed Smoking, Language, Sexual Content: grinding, teasing, nipple play, choking, unprotected sex (be safe!), Dom!jk, Sub!Reader if you squint, After care?  Its also really fucking cute and fluffy. 

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

A cloud of smoke hung in the air, as you press the joint to your lips. Inhaling deeply, feeling the familiar burn in your throat. Some new r&b track playing softly in the background. Jungkook’s long legs resting comfortably over your lap, you pass him the joint. He sets his phone to the side to sit up and take it from you. As mundane as it sounds, this had become somewhat comfortable for the two of you. He blows the smoke out, passing it back for you to finish. Placing the remainder in the ashtray as Jungkook starts laughing hysterically, his infamous cackle bouncing off the walls; easily one of your favorite sounds.

“This video was from last year, watch this…” He sits up bringing the phone close to your face. You watch an extremely drunk Jimin dancing chaotically in the middle of a crowded club. The phone pans to the VIP section, and Taehyung hyping him up. You don’t miss the obnoxiously attractive women that crowd the same area. Your eyes widen and you start to laugh too. It reminded you of when you and Jungkook had first started dating. For the first few months, every weekend was spent with your friends in overcrowded clubs. Fun times, no doubt, but you were happy with your new normal.

Jungkook dismisses himself to the kitchen, mumbling something about having the munchies. You giggle at your predictable boyfriend, extending your legs into the spot where he was laying. Pulling up Snap Chat on your phone, not surprised to see Jimin and Taehyung’s stories. Almost as if they were trying to replicate the memory Jungkook just showed you from a year ago. Drunk as hell, beautiful women, VIP section, it was something to envy from the outside looking in.

You laugh to yourself, thinking back on your own memories. At the start of your relationship, seven months ago, it was much different. Frequently bar hopping with friends whenever we were able to. Once we discovered that we preferred just being in each other’s company, the partying slowly came to an end. You were happy with that though. You loved smoking and hanging out with your best friend, who also happened to be your boyfriend. You find yourself replaying Jimin and Taehyungs story, until you click on Jungkook’s; nothing. Peaking behind you to see him finishing off an apple, you start to think.

You were comfortable with spending your nights like this. Having moved in with each other a month ago, you loved being able to spend your free nights together. Watching a movie, cuddled up on the couch, listening to music, experimenting with food. Whatever you did, it made you happy. This was the first time you wondered if maybe he felt different than you. What if he wants to go out but doesn’t say anything because he knows how much you love staying home?

You get up from your spot on the couch, a stolen pair of Jungkook’s sweatpants hanging around your hips, while his t-shirt hides all your curves. He’s singing to the soft sounds coming from the speaker, and he looks so ethereal. His long bouncy waves, floating back and forth over his eyes; always made you want to brush his hair back. His outfit matching yours since you were wearing his clothes. The grey sweatpants looking sexier on him than on you, although he would argue that statement.

You hop onto the countertop letting your legs hang over, “Do you want to go out?” you blurt out, attempting to sound nonchalant.

He pauses, quickly turning to look at you. His face screwing up with confusion, “What? Like… tonight?”

You press your lips into a hard line nodding at him, which only makes him look more confused.

“Right now? You want to go out?” He asks you again to confirm as he slots himself in between your legs. He wraps his arms around your waist, letting his thumbs slide against the inside of your waist band.

“I mean, if you want to. I’m good with whatever,” You murmur, still attempting to be nonchalant.

“Well… if you don’t want to go out… why would I?” He giggles softly before pressing his lips to your nose.

“I thought maybe you’d want to party with Jimin and Tae, it’s been awhile since we’ve been out,” you try explaining simply.

He tilts his head to the side, seeing straight through your bullshit.

“Actually, I do wanna go somewhere,” He starts, pulling back and walking over to where our shoes are laying, “walk to the grocery store with me, we have like no food.”

You roll your eyes but you follow his lead slipping your shoes on. The grocery store was in walking distance, which was quite dangerous when you both had the munchies.

The wind is harsh but overall, the night is beautiful. The street is on the quieter side since its late into the night. Jungkook pulls your hand out of your hoodie and laces his fingers with yours before putting both into his hoodie. You look up to see him already smiling down at you.

“Baby, why did you ask me to go out tonight, honestly?” his voice is soft and laced with curiosity.

You sigh. You try not to feel insecure, but it was hard with him. He was perfect in your eyes, and you were… well, you weren’t perfect by any means. You constantly wondered if he would want something more, something that you couldn’t offer him. What if he needed more adventure or someone that was in his league? The bottom line was, you knew there was someone out there that could give him that; and it intimidated you.

“I don’t know, it’s just been awhile since we’ve gone out.” You tell him, although its true you know you’re lying to him.

“But you didn’t want to go out, so what would you have done if I had said yes?” He chuckles raising his brows to you.

“I would have gone, I just want to make you happy,” You look up to him and smile.

“I am happy. Right here, with you,” He leans down and kisses your cheek, ”You know that right?”

You force a smile and nod, and he seems to pick up on your hesitation, but he lets it go for now.

Your cloudy eyes scan over the chip section, while Jungkook goes to a different isle to pick out ice cream. Decision making wasn’t your strong suit, so he found you in the same isle 5 minutes later still debating.

“Okay, like spicy or cheesy? You know I hate making decisions!” You pout holding up the two bags.

He chuckles coming closer to see what the options are, “For you, my lady,” He says taking both bags from your hands and putting them in the cart. You start to giggle, reaching out to hug him.

You walk through a few more isles deciding you want to get some noodles for an actual meal. You’re debating on what kind to get, when he freezes in the middle of the conversation. Instantly you stop talking wondering what the hell has your boyfriend’s attention.

Within a few seconds you know, “Oh, if that’s what it takes to learn that sweet heart of yours,” Jungkook starts singing to you in the middle of the isle. His newfound love for the song 10,000 hours was intense, he was constantly singing it to you. Your eyes widen and you start to giggle, taking his hand when he holds it out to you. He spins you into him still singing incredibly loud for a grocery store. His pulls you in and you sway to the music, still unable to control your laughing. You back away from him and you start doing ‘tik-tok’ dance moves to the pop song, Jungkook’s voice cracks as he starts to laugh at you. Within seconds he’s right there with you mimicking your dance moves, you’re both dying from laughter.

You jump when you turn around to see an old couple watching you and giggling.

“Oh my gosh, we’re so sorry!” You start laughing moving the cart out of the way while Jungkook quickly picks up the noodles and throws them into the cart.

“Please don’t apologize, you remind us of when we were younger,” The old man starts, looking at this wife adoringly, “It’s something special, to be in love with your best friend!”

You and Jungkook’s cheeks are burning red, as you hear the sweet compliment.

“It really is,” Jungkook agrees softly before looking at you, eyes filled with the same adoration as the old man.

You finally check out and begin your trek home, Jungkook insisting on carrying all the bags if you feed him some gummy bears. His left arm hangs around your shoulder while you alternate giving him a gummy bear, then yourself.

“Those were some pretty sweet moves back there,” he giggles

You start to laugh again shrugging your shoulders, “Yeah… yours were alright,” you mock. Jungkook gasps sarcastically.

“If I didn’t have this bag of food, I would dance battle you right here!”

“You mean… you would lose a dance battle right here?” You say confidently, before your start to giggle. You slowly look up at him only to see him glaring down at you jokingly, you reach up pressing a red gummy to his lips. You can’t help the belly laugh when he quickly nips the gummy out of your fingers nearly biting you.

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Finally, back home, he made the noodles as soon as you stepped into the house. Both of you singing loud to the music that plays in the background. You switch back and forth between both bags of chips, doing a happy dance when the flavors hit your tongue. His giggle pulls you from your food daze.

“Why are you laughing at me!” You push your lips out pouting as you crunch.

“Your little food dance, it’s one of my favorite things you do,” He imitates you with your little butt wiggle you do while he brings his noodles to his mouth.

“That’s not it,” you giggle showing him what you actually do, “you have to move your shoulders too!” You demonstrate taking a bite of your own noodles.

“Why are you so cute?” He giggles. You shrug cutely before poking your cheeks with your fingers. When you finish eating, he takes your bowls to the sink, and you decide to make your way over to his side of the counter. He turns around after washing the two dishes. You lean into his chest and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, leaning forward to take in the clean smell of your hair before kissing the top of your head multiple times.

He tugs at your chin so you’re looking up at him. He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, lightly pushing your hair behind your ear, “You seem more like yourself now,” He presses his lips to yours lightly.

“What do you mean?” You ask, pushing yourself up so you can steal another kiss.

“Earlier, you asking to go out. I’m still confused about that…” He grazes his thumb over your bottom lip before looking into your eyes. You could tell that a part of him was worried. You sigh, knowing that it was out of character for you.

“So… maybe I thought that you wanted to be out partying,“ you try to pull back but his arms are around you tight, “Like Tae and Jimin are, with all of those beautiful women.”

His brows nit together as he processes your words, “Why did you think that?”

You take a deep breath deciding to tell him about your frequent insecurities. All of your fears and doubts about your perfect relationship, you told him all of them. He listened closely with his arms secure around you the whole time, his grip never faltering.

“Just… you know, I want to make sure you’re happy with me, so you don’t want to find someone who can make you happier,” you mumble, his face melts with the last sentence.

“Baby,” Its all he says, shaking his head slightly, “You make me, so happy. So happy sometimes that I wonder if this is real.”

“You’re so perfect for me. You know, a free-spirit, with a wild heart,” He sighs deeply cupping your cheeks in his hands, “I just want someone real, someone true.” He murmurs pressing his lips to yours again. He pulls back slightly before leaning in to hover just above your ear, “I need you to smoke with me baby.”

You smile, letting him pull you to the couch. He sits in the corner of the couch pulling you close to him, while he lights the joint that sits on his lips. Inhaling deeply before passing it to you. You both finish it off, and before you know it you’re laughing about who knows what. He pulls you onto his lap, you set your legs on both sides of his. Your body feels warm, maybe it’s because of high, or maybe its because of how much you love him.

His eyes are heavy as he stares up at you his fingers finding their way beneath the loose t-shirt on your body, “Are you happy with me?” He asks out of nowhere, “is there anything I could do to make you happier?”

You take a deep breath, the THC making it hard for you to think too deeply about the answer. You didn’t need to think hard because it was simple, you were happy.

“I just want the simple things,” You say quietly leaning forward to capture his lips in yours, “Someone to smoke with me, laugh with me, lay with me,” You kiss him between each phrase, you pull back to make sure he has your attention, “I just want you.”

He smiles big, taking his hand and wrapping it around the back of your neck to pull you close to him. You brace yourself against his chest, noticing the way his heart feels like it might beat out of his chest. His lips attach to yours but this time it’s needy. He presses into them letting his tongue dance along your lower lip. You feel him start to harden beneath you, and you can’t stop yourself from grinding down onto him. The moan that finds its way from his mouth to yours makes your body weak.

He pulls you closer to him, bringing himself forward on the couch. You wrap your legs around his waist, as he gently pulls his t-shirt from your body. Palming at your tits as soon as his eyes hit them. You throw your head back and he leans forward to leave love bites on the column of your throat. You reach forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, running your fingers through his hair; tugging softly. He pulls you impossibly closer, your clothed heat pressed against his hard on. You moan into his mouth when he starts to kiss you again. Bucking your hips into him, he pulls back and brings his lips to your sensitive nipples. Massaging your left while his tongue teases the right, then switching. His hand slides up to your throat and your eyes finally meet his blown-out pupils, full of lust and love. His fingers tighten around your throat while he holds you close to his body with his other arm. He turns you both, leaning you back until your laying flat on the couch. His hand still firm around your throat, he leans forward to kiss you again; pressing his hard on into your groin making you whine.

He smiles before nipping at your neck, still pressing himself into where you need him the most. The friction is making you crazy and he knows it, “Baby…” you whimper and he lets out a quiet laugh into your skin. He moves down your body slowly, leaving hickeys in his path, “What baby? What do you need?” He coos, instantly snapping his hips into yours. You throw your head back whining again, “Come on princess, use your words,” He laughs again before sucking the skin of your thigh into his mouth. The purple mark is fresh compared to the dull ones from the nights previous. It’s like it’s his own private masterpiece, he runs his thumb over it before sitting up between your legs. He looks down at you and cocks his head, your bottom lip comfortably in-between your teeth. His fingers slide under the band of your sweatpants and he starts to pull them from your legs antagonizing slow. You wiggle your legs trying to speed up the process, only making him slow down even more.

“Mm no panties?” He licks his lips as notices how wet you are, ”Tell me what you want baby,” He says again, pulling the sweatpants from his own legs.

“I want you to fuck me, Kookie.” You lean forward reaching out for his hard cock, but he wraps his hands around your wrist. Pushing them into the couch, as he hovers over your body. He looks down at you, as the tip of his cock teases your clit. Your eyes are drawn to the way the veins in his biceps are popping out, then to the way his abs flex each time he thrust forward, “Please.” You beg finally meeting his eyes, and they seem to soften at your magic word.

Reaching down he lines himself up then slides inside of you torturously slow. Both of you inhaling deeply when he bottoms out and stops. Something you both loved the feeling of in general, but when you were high it was comparable to euphoria.

“You feel so fucking tight for me princess,” He moans pulling back, dragging his cock against your walls. You want to respond but the words hang on your lips, all you can formulate is whimper. Leaning forward on his forearms on each side of your head, he nudges your face to the side. Letting his teeth graze the shell of your ear. The sound of his moans and whimpers was enough to through you over the edge. He feels it when you start to tighten around him, his teeth finding the juncture of your shoulder and neck. Pressing his lips delicately before he starts to suck hard.

“I-Im so close, please,” You start to beg, you don’t know what you’re begging for exactly, but you have a feeling that he does. He quickens his pace, leaning up and pressing your thighs further apart. He takes his thumb to his mouth, collecting his spit before rubbing it into your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. Your hips start to buck up into his thrust, having a mind of their own. He takes it upon himself to pull your hips up to his, the new position making your body react instantly.

“Right there! Oh fuck, right there Kookie!” You yell out, warmth spreading through your body from your toes to your fingertips. The familiar tight feeling in your abdomen tells you that your close.

“Fuck princess, cum with me!” he moans and just like that your body starts to shake. An orgasm hitting you like a semi, the warmth that was running through your veins turns into something new. He holds your legs still, spilling himself inside of you. The feeling alone makes you feel like you could cum again. He thrust inside you a few more times, each time your body spasming.

He pulls out admiring the way his cum drips from you, taking his fingers and pushing it back inside of you. You spasm at the action, making him giggle, “You came so hard, didn’t you princess?” He asks you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before he starts to get up to find something to clean you with. You nod, grabbing his hand quickly before he gets too far. He looks down at you, “Lay with me, baby.”

He pauses and smiles down at you before squeezing himself onto the couch next to you, “You’re still messy,” he says.

“I don’t care, I need you close right now,” You explain before burying your head into his chest. You feel his chest rock as he laughs at how fucked out you are. It didn’t happen every time but, sometimes he fucked you so good that you felt emotional afterwards. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, and you just wanted him to hold you. He wraps his arms around you, massaging your scalp with his fingertips.

“I love you so much, baby.” He says softly.

You hum into his chest, “Love you too.”

After about an hour of naked cuddling, you ask him if he wants to take a shower. He instantly perks up, wrapping you in his arms carrying you to the shower.

“If you think I would ever choose a night out over a night like this, you’re insane.”

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𝙰/𝙽: 𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔! 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎!

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[likefacesaretohearts]

Knocked Up

Pablo and reader grow in their relationship and possibly their family.

Listen to this Kings of Leon song while you readdd

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex, some slightly graphic language, mentions of unprotected sex, pregnancy

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The last few weeks you spent in Canada with Pablo and his two boys had been amazing. At first you were apprehensive about going on a trip with just him and his kids because you hadn't spent much time with them. Plus, you didn't want to be the stereotypical younger girlfriend that tags along and makes family trips awkward.

"The boys think you're cool. It'll be fun for all of us to spend time together. Trust me, babydoll," Pablo had told you while you were laying in bed the night before you left California.

Thankfully he was right. You got a chance to be with Pablo without all the distractions that were in LA and a chance to really get to know his kids. When you had first started dating Pablo, neither of you were sure if it was gonna be a lasting relationship or just a brief fling, so you agreed that you wouldn't meet his children until you got serious. Without expecting it, you fell quickly and deeply in love within 10 months of being together.

You were on an early morning hike with Pablo on a beautiful trail in the hills when you both decided to take a break and sit on the grass, looking out at a gorgeous wooded area. He had taken his shirt off and beads of sweat glistened off his back, chest and arms. You found his love of nature and being active so sexy— you laid your head on his damp shoulder and let out a contented sigh. "I'm so glad we came here," you said. "I feel like this is the life I wanna live."

"Me too," he said. "It's weird...I never thought someone could just fit in our family, but you do, y/n."

The sun was getting hotter as it got later in the morning, so the two of you decided to head back to the cabin you were staying in because the kids would be awake soon. You made a beeline for the shower because, well, you were in dire need of one after that hike. Peeling off your leggings and tank top and then feeling the cool water against your skin was an unmatched feeling. After a few minutes you heard a light knock on the bathroom door and Pablo asking "Ok if I come in?"

"Yeah, babe," you shouted so he could hear you. You figured that maybe he had to pee or wanted to brush his teeth or something. Instead, he opened the shower curtain and soon he was in the shower right behind you, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder. He grabbed the bottle of body wash that was nearby and said "Can I get under the water baby?" You switched spots with him so he could rinse himself off too.

"Rose hip oil? What the hell does that do?" He was reading the bottle of body wash in confusion.

"I don't know, but it smells good, right?" You replied.

He stepped closer to you so that his chest was touching yours and said "You smell good" with a very sly smile. "Ah so that's why you came in here," you said with a laugh. "You sneaky bastard." Pablo grabbed you and started kissing you as if he were in need of air and you were the only supply of it. His hand traveled down to your ass, then wandered between your legs. His dick was hard against your thigh and he whispered lustfully on your ear "You're so beautiful, honey. Let me show you how beautiful you are." Between heavy kisses you managed to say "Oh, baby I want to but I can't right now." You and Pablo both had very high sex drives and there was rarely a time when the two of you didn't feel like having sex...except for when you were ovulating. That was a time when the two of you were very careful and refrained from being together during that window of time because you weren't on birth control and you hadn't had a conversation about having children together yet. Hell, you were just now becoming comfortable with the two children that he had.

A look of understanding spread across his face, and he grabbed your face in his hands then kissed your forehead then your lips. "Alright sweetheart. How about I make you breakfast instead? What do you want, we got just about everything in the kitchen..."

"Surprise me," you said with a smile. He jumped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, leaving you to relax some more and exfoliate.

Fresh out of the shower and dressed in a pair of shorts and a comfy sweatshirt, you went into the kitchen to see what Pablo was cooking. "Blueberry or pecan?" He asked. Waffles. "Hmm...both!" The boys were at the other end of the house in the living room playing video games, but even though they weren't close by he lowered his voice when he said "So about earlier...would it be so bad?" Pablo did this sometimes, speaking as if you already knew what he was talking about without actually explaining first and you'd have to reel him in. "Babe, did you have the first part of this conversation without me?"

He put some freshly made waffles on a plate and started making more. "Remember in the shower earlier? When you said you couldn't..." he raised his eyebrows at the risk of the kids somehow hearing his say the word 'sex'. "Would it be so bad if we did... had a baby?"

You almost choked on the coffee you had been sipping. Of course you loved him and you wanted kids, you always had, but you had no idea he had even thought about having more. After taking a second to gather you thoughts, you said "You want another baby?"

"I mean, yeah. I never really put a time or intention on it because I haven't been in a serious relationship in a while, but it's something that's always been in the back of my mind. I don't wanna freak you out if it's too soon for you to think about...but I can see that for us. What if we had alittle girl that looks just like you?"

Hearing him talk like that made you emotional for some reason. It was the thing everyone who wants a family wants to hear their partner say. You got up and hugged him from behind as he continued to cook and kissed his shoulder.

"So you're open to it?" He asked sheepishly.

"Mhm," you said, smiling. He turned around and planted a sweet kiss on your lips.

"Boys, breakfast is ready. Come & get it!"

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To put it simply, you felt like shit. You had notoriously bad periods and you could definitely feel it coming on. It was a about a week late but along with being generally awful, your periods were also unpredictable. The strange part was that you didn't have cramps, but we're extremely nauseous and overall weak. You and Pablo were still in Canada and it'd been about two weeks since you had agreed that a baby was in the cards for y'all. He joked that the two of you should start "trying" but you'd been feeling so terrible lately that you barely had the energy to do the day to day activities you guys usually did with the kids, like hiking, riding dirt bikes and watching movies, let alone have the kind of energetic sex you and Pablo usually have.

Pablo and the kids were about to head to the store to stock up on some more food and supplies for the cabin. He came into the room you shared where you'd been laying down and watching 13 Going on 30 on TV to distract you from how gross you felt. He crouched down next to the bed and rubbed your head.

"Is there anything you want me to grab for you at the store? I hate seein you like this, honey."

Somehow in that moment, it all clicked. You felt dumb for not realizing what the cause of your sickness probably was. Without even really thinking it through, you blurted out, "I think I need a pregnancy test...kind of...I think!"

"You think you could be pregnant?" He asked with innocent excitement growing in his voice.

"I mean, I wouldn't quite rule it out."

About an hour later the three of them had returned and after making the boys a quick snack to hold them over before dinner, he brought a plastic bag into your room and sat on the bed. "Alright, my lovely," he said, pulling out a ginger ale, some sour gummy worms for your nausea and...the pregnancy test. Two of them, as a matter of fact. "I have an idea, but let me know if you're not up for it: you take both the tests, leave them in the bathroom, then me and you go for a walk outside and when we come back we can look at it together."

"Let's do it," you said, pulling on some shoes and a hoodie to protect you from the brisk night air.

The sky was a gorgeous orange, yellow and faded purple, the perfect backdrop for a sunset. You and Pablo walked hand in hand through the nearby wooded area, taking about the possibility of you carrying your first child together and how thrilled his boys would be. As you walked and talked, time got away from you and nearly an hour had passed when you decided it would be best to head back. You sent Pablo to the bathroom to go get the tests and bring them to out to the front porch where you'd both decided to sit to look out at the stars.

"You ready?" He asked, reaching out for your hand. You grabbed it and rubbed his hand with your thumb. You turned over one test and he turned over the other at the same time.

Pregnant and pregnant.

Your eyes welled up with tears immediately and you covered your mouth with your hands. He reached over and grabbed you into a bear hug, kissing the top of your head and peppering your face with kisses.

"Baby, how do you feel?" You asked him, your voice muffled by the jacket he was wearing.

"Let's do it, sweetheart."

He grabbed you and lifted you up, carrying you into the house bridal style. The love in both of your eyes was enough to last a lifetime. You couldn't wait to grow your family with him and give the boys a little sibling

[homebody-nobody]

you’re a part of me

(WHAT?? Jax wrote ANOTHER fic?? THREE FICS?? in TWO WEEKS?? I know, I’m shocked too. We’re gettin closer and closer to bein a Real Fic Writer lads.) How many juke first kiss fics will you write, Jax? all of them. as many as I want. I dunno. you're an adult obsessed with a tweeny-bopper show. shut up. who even has the patience for 5 +1s in this house it's 3 +1 and only barely bc I don't know how structured fic works so it's not even separate like it's supposed to be. anyway enjoy some dumb teenagers falling in love if the dialogue is cringe sorry lol I was trying to stay in the tone of the show and may have gone a little bit too disney channel (Also if you see typos/the same adjective used twice in one sentence/paragraph, no you didn't I don't edit it makes me nervous)  ------------------------------- (ao3) ------------------------------ '... Luke has thrown out any semblance of personal space. He orbits around her just as closely as the others, no longer threatened by or hyper-aware of the consequences of his proximity. Basically, he’s getting entirely too comfortable.'

(3 times Julie and Luke almost kissed and 1 time they did) ------------------------------------ Luke is overly physical. Theoretically, Julie already knew this. She’s seen him with the boys, the way he lives in other people’s space, hanging off Reggie and lurking next to Alex, not caring where his lanky limbs or knees or elbows end up, even if it’s in other people’s ribs. He was never like that with her, too afraid of the crushing disappointment that came when she phased through his hands. But now, there isn’t the strange, tingles-up-her neck way-weird, way-wrong sensation that came when she accidentally brushed through him. So even though Julie’s used to keeping a respectful distance, Luke has thrown out any semblance of personal space. He orbits around her just as closely as the others, no longer threatened by or hyper-aware of the consequences of his proximity.  Basically, he’s getting entirely too comfortable. 

She notices it the first time during rehearsal, when they’re hashing out the particulars of a melody -- Luke wants it to go down, and Julie thinks it should go up. She plunks herself down at the grand piano to prove that her idea will sound better, fanning the half-finished sheet music out across the top, pointing out the measure they’re arguing over, smudged and crinkled from repeated erasings. 

Luke narrows his eyes at her from across the room, his face set in his trademark (adorable) grumpy expression. “It just sounds better!” she argues. “Listen.” She puts her hands on the keys, left hand hitting the chord, right dancing over her proposed melody. “So please, keep chasing me…” she sings, building to the last word and sliding her voice over an intricate run ending in a step up. Looking up, she tilts her head, her wild hair piled into a tenuous bun, curly tendrils framing her face. Luke’s stomach does an interesting flip. “See?” 

He stands up, swinging his guitar strap down across his chest before walking around her, putting his right hand over where hers had just been on the paper. He stands just behind her shoulder, sending goosebumps down her spine. “It should go down,” he insists. “It’ll flow better with the next line and then the break before the chorus makes more sense. Listen.” He puts his foot up on the bench and swings his guitar back up like it's an extension of him, playing a riff and singing the line they’re arguing about before dipping in to the next. “So please keep chasing me,” he sings, his voice gracefully stepping up and then back down, “Cause even though I’m runnin’, I know you’re the one I need.” 

“You’re making it too simple!” she cries, slamming her hands down in her lap and turning to face him. She opens her mouth to continue the argument, but when she looks at him, she starts, finally realizing just how close he is. The toe of his sneaker brushes her leg, and he leans over the sheet music, closing her in against the piano. His dark eyebrows pull together, mouth slightly pinched as he concentrates, solid and strong and very much in her space. “Um --” she says. 

He shrugs, shaking his head a little bit. “What,” he says, not understanding what she’s having a problem with. Julie’s eyes drop to his mouth, close and stupid kissable, and he notices the motion. The air crackles as both of them unconsciously draw closer, song forgotten, focused only on each other. Luke leans in, half an inch, and Julie’s breath hitches in her chest. This is stupid. She knows this is stupid. Luke is dead. Full ghost. Not real. Well, real, but not a viable option. He might have a physical presence now -- a very strong, very warm, very attractive physical presence -- but that doesn’t make him any more possible. And yet, here she is, pulled into him like he has his own gravitational field and she’s helpless to it. Luke licks his lips, and Julie tilts her chin up, fractional motion tiptoeing toward something irreversible and dangerous. 

Just as she’s about to step over that uncrossable line, there’s an almighty crash. Both of their heads whip up in time to see Alex topple off his stool -- he’d fallen asleep as they were arguing. The noise wakes Reggie, whose head was lolling against his amp. “I didn’t do it!” he yells, flailing into sitting up straight. 

Julie clears her throat and turns back to the keyboard, stretching her hands over the keys. “You’re, uh --” she says, glancing at Luke out of the corner of her eye to find him smirking in an infuriatingly adorable manner. “You’re right. It should go down.” He stands up straight, mildly surprised at his easy victory, and backs off from the piano to show Reggie the chords. They sketch out the verse and Alex adds a backing beat, the moment forgotten. 

That is, until Carlos comes in to nag her to eat. Alex poofs out and Reggie dives behind his amp. Since the whole discovering-corporeality thing, they’re not totally sure if Julie’s the only one who can see them still, and they’d rather not have to explain to Julie’s dad what three teenage ‘holograms’ are doing living in his garage. Carlos delivers his message and then darts back inside, eager for dinner, and Julie stands up from the piano, gathering the half-finished song and tucking it into the folder she keeps her in-progress projects in. 

Reggie emerges in a comic mess of limbs and grins at her, Alex poofing back on to his stool. “I’ll be back after dinner to finish this,” she says, hoping they don't notice the shake in her hands as she tucks the folder away. Luke pops his chin over the edge of the couch, behind which he’d taken cover. 

“Hey Julie!” he calls, and she turns back to look at him. “Just remember; KISS.” 

Her brain short-circuits, heart tripping over itself as she remembers his eyes on her, his shoulders and his hands and his stupid concentration face. “I, uh -- What are you --” she sputters.

A shit-eating grin spreads across Luke’s face as he puts his elbows on top of the couch and pushes himself up. “Keep it simple, stupid.” 

Julie practically runs out of the garage. Alex raises an eyebrow, his gaze arcing from the door to land on Luke. “That was uh…” Luke schools his expression into one of false innocence. “Bold.” Luke rolls his eyes and brushes him off, but Reggie gives Alex a knowing look. Their friends are idiots. 

It happens again one afternoon when Carlos has a baseball game and Julie has the house to herself. Or, so she thinks. She’s lazing around on the couch, avoiding her history homework spread out on the coffee table, Adventure Time babbling on the television. She’s slowly working her way through a bag of gummy bears and m&ms (her favorite candy combination),  wearing an enormous hoodie that used to be her mom’s, home alone; life is fantastic. Until -- 

“Oh, sweet, cartoons!” Luke poofs into existence directly next to her on the couch, and she starts violently enough to shake candy into the couch cushions. Some of it lands on his chest, and he holds up a green gummy bear with a wistful expression. Julie just stares at him, still mildly in shock, definitely still annoyed, and really not in the mood to endure his moping about food when she was having a perfectly nice time by herself. 

“Hey,” he says, either ignoring or unaware of what he’s just done to her heart rate and her peaceful afternoon. “You think now that I’m corporeal --” (he over-pronounces the word, having just learned it from Flynn days before) “I can eat like, regular human food?” It isn’t until he looks to her for an answer that he realizes what he’s just done. “Oh, sorry,” he says, that same stupid-ass grin settling on his face, not sorry even a little bit. “Did I spook ya?” 

His glee at the pun, which he definitely stole from Reggie, sparkles in his gray-green eyes, and Julie’s heart, which had just started to recover from his sudden appearance, trips over itself one more time. Emerging from the shaken-up snowglobe of her brain, she blurts out her first thought. “You’re the worst,” she says, even while thinking the opposite. 

He looks genuinely hurt for about half a second before turning the gummy bear towards her, too, and speaking for it. “You should be nice to Luke,” he says in an absurd voice. “He’s so handsome and talented!” He laughs at his own joke and pitches his voice up to continue with the bit, but she snatches the candy out of his hand and pops into her mouth, grinning. He feigns shock. “That bear could have had a family, Julie.” 

“If they did, they’ll all be happy together in my stomach,” she says, eating another one to punctuate the statement. Luke laughs, and the sound has a heart-stopping melody of its own. It’s comfortable, the relationship that they’ve developed with each other. He always laughs at her jokes and is the first to offer her a compliment after rehearsal, and she loves his dorky sense of humor, even when she gives him a hard time about it. They write music and goof around, and even with the (very strong) undercurrent of romantic (she hopes) tension between them, a friendship sits comfortably on top. He’s only been in her life for a short time,  but she can’t imagine it without him. Her feelings for him endanger that, so she does her best not to let it show. He asks her what she’s watching, and she explains the basic premise of the episode so that he can understand what’s going on. 

She’s hyper-aware of him as they watch the show, and  she envies the ease with which he occupies her space, his shoulder brushing hers, their knees occasionally bumping. He slouches all the way down on the couch, one foot kicked up on the table, turning the remote in his hands and messing with the battery cover, completely at home. (He’s always fiddling with something -- a pen, his necklace -- or bouncing his leg, or clicking a guitar pick between his teeth. It’s a habit that’s mostly adorable and only sometimes annoying.) If he notices her staring at him, he doesn’t say anything. 

It takes a couple more episodes, but she finally relaxes, and the distance between them -- already spare -- vanishes, her shoulder tucked under his, her head angled toward him, their feet bumping on the table. Half her attention is on Finn and the land of Ooo, and half on the boy beside her, who doesn’t seem to give any indication that he’s thinking about this as much as she is. Luke has a way of pulling her in until she’s closer than she ever planned to be, like she can’t help but touch him. Ever since the night they played the Orpheum, he’s become magnetic, his presence a force she can’t resist. If she tilted her head down, just a fraction, it would be resting on his shoulder. What would he do? Would he shrug her off, or rest his head on hers? She watches his hands play with the remote, imagining what his strong, slender fingers would feel like laced with hers. She’s had crushes before, of course -- she liked Nick all the way from seventh grade up to this year -- but nothing so real and powerful as this. 

“Don’t you think Finn sounds just like Reggie?” Luke asks, pulling her from her thoughts. She looks up at him, and he looks down at her, and -- oh. 

He’s very close. 

His eyes always remind her of an overcast sky, swirling with unknown depth, and they widen when they meet hers, filled with awe. Blood rushes in her ears, muting the TV, tuning out anything that isn’t him. Her heart is beating so hard and so fast she wonders peripherally if he can hear it, and then that thought fizzles out with the rest of any kind of logic when his gaze drops to her mouth. He’s going to kiss her. He’s going to kiss her!! Panic and elation and anticipation all scramble in her chest. She’s never kissed anyone before, and even though she’s never asked, she knows he probably has. What if she’s bad at it? She’s half freaking out and half telling herself to shut the hell up as he turns his entire body towards her, his hand reaching up to hold her face and -- 

The front door slams open, announcing Carlos and Ray. “Mija!!” her dad calls. Luke jerks back from her like he’s been burned, eyes filled with absolute terror, before he disappears. 

“JULIEEEEE!!” Carlos hollers, launching himself across the living room at her and landing on her stomach, knocking the air out of her. Her arms come up around him automatically, despite all the sweat and the diamond dirt sticking to it. Feeling mildly shell shocked and like she’s been hit by a hell of a lot more than her little brother, she barely listens as Carlos and their dad babble over each other in an attempt at telling the story of Carlos’ game-winning home-base slide. She’ll be happy for him once her heart rate slows down. 

Luke stays away for almost a full twenty-four hours after that particular mishap, long enough she almost asks Reggie and Alex if he talked to them about it. There’s about a thousand reasons not to, but mostly, she doesn’t know if she can even explain just what happened. She does tell Flynn, who launches into a very confusing monologue that starts with her admonishing Julie for thinking anything good can come from involving herself with a literal ghost and ends with her gushing about how many cute love songs they could write together, zero percent of which makes her feel better. 

The only reason he doesn’t continue avoiding her is rehearsal, which, of course, he would never miss. She’s hoping to talk to him before they get started, but then the bus gets stuck in traffic and all of her boys are already set up with their instruments and having an impromptu jam session by the time she gets home.  “What --” she hisses as she heaves the doors shut behind her. “Did I tell you guys about playing in here without me?” Alex shrugs and apologizes, and she can’t really be mad at Reggie, at least not for long. 

But Luke -- he barely looks at her, nervous fingers dancing across a complicated riff even as the other boys stop playing. It takes a second of silence before he looks up to see the rest of his band staring at him. “Oh,” he says, the phrase ending in the discordant sound of fingernails on steel strings. “Yeah, right. Sorry.” 

They get started, but nothing sounds right. Luke rushes the tempo and refuses to make eye contact with anyone, spinning off into fancy riffs that have no place in the song they’re working on. Reggie keeps trying to keep up with him, tripping up Alex and frustrating Julie, and when the song grinds to a cacophonous halt for the fourth time, she stands up from the piano. Reggie takes a step back. 

“What is your problem?” she practically yells, stomping over to Luke. He’s been surly and unusually stubborn, and the shift from his usual cheerful, passionate demeanor builds her own stewing anxieties to a dangerous head.

“It’s not my problem you can’t keep up,” he says, and then, after watching the words register in Julie’s expression, immediately regrets it. Alex’s eyebrows shoot up and Reggie makes a very soft ‘ooooohhh’ noise under his breath.

“It’s not keeping up if you can’t hold a steady tempo,” she says, too upset over his refusal to cooperate to catch the reaction from her bandmates.

“Okay, so maybe I was rushing,” he admits, trying to walk it back. But Julie’s on a roll, and once she gets started laying into him, she very rarely lets up.

“Thank you!” she yells, the sarcasm clear in her tone. She’d been especially fond of the product so far, a song she thought embodied the perfect blend of Luke’s harder edge and her singer-songwriter roots. His sudden, uncharacteristic left turn is as much an interruption in their rehearsal as a knock to the tenuous pride she’d been building in the piece.  “And what are all those riffs you’re tossing in? You have to hear how they don’t fit.” 

“Oh come on,” he says, proud in his ability and therefore less willing to step down. He rolls his shoulders back and moves toward her, the challenge set in his spine. “I was shredding and you know it.” Luke is sweet and kind and silly and compassionate, but he’s also a musician, and a lead guitarist at that. His ego, though it rarely becomes an issue, is far from insubstantial. 

“If you want a solo, fine!” she cries with exasperation, her hands flying through the air like they always do when she’s upset. “But you have to say something so we can give you room for it!” Her annoyance has turned down the sensitivity on her Luke-nonsense monitor, caught up enough in the trouble that she can’t see that he’s riling her up on purpose.

“What, you afraid of a little improvisation?” He’s smiling now, and his obvious glee, such a stark flip from where she thought this was going, throws off her tirade. He starts walking toward her, and his newfound physicality gives him an ability to fluster her to a much greater degree than before.

“No --” she stammers, stumbling backwards, distracted out of anger by his sparkling eyes and the power in the body approaching rapidly. “That’s not what I --” There it is again, that power he has to turn the rest of the world into radio static, her vision blurring and her hearing dulling until it’s just Luke filling up the world in front of her. 

“C’mon Julie,” he says, and right now she hates his stupid smirk and the stupid way he rolls her name around in his mouth before letting it out. “you have to take risks once in a while.” She’s backed up against the piano now, her hands wrapped tight around the lid, and he’s still pushing it, strong and warm and undeniably, frustratingly male in her space. 

But Julie isn’t one to let him intimidate her into silence, no matter how cute and well-muscled he may be. She takes a breath and looks him in his ridiculous sparkly eyes, poking him in his absurdly firm chest.“I am not afraid of taking risks, mister,” she says, “Let’s not forget who performed in front of her entire school to get back into the music program --” 

“My idea,” he scoffs, not backing up. Why isn’t he backing up.

“Or who fronts a band of actual ghosts!” she continues, her voice increasing in volume again, and the speed of her heart tripping over itself could be from the argument or the boy who’s collarbones are less than a foot from her face. Both are entirely possible. 

“Less ghost now,” he reminds her, tilting his head, his weight leaned one one leg, his hand resting on the head of his guitar, relaxed when they’re supposed to be arguing. 

“You just get to poof out after we perform!” she says, only about two-thirds of her mind still focused on the fight itself, the other third completely wrapped up in the feeling of Luke in front of her. “I’m the one who has to stick around and ask questions!” 

“So you’re saying you take chances,” he says, diabolically diplomatic instead of challenging. He leans forward, putting his hands on the piano behind her, caging her in with his arms. She refuses to back down again, even though his face is now inches from hers. “You’d take a leap of faith?” 

“Yeah,” she says, only half-certain, because she’s not totally sure they’re still talking about music, and her heart is in the base of her throat and her stomach is somewhere around her shoes, and suddenly her hands are sweating when they definitely weren’t a minute ago. This definitely isn’t an argument about the song anymore. 

“Oh yeah?” he says, and there’s the challenge again, except this one sounds more like a dare, and he’s definitely looking at her lips this time, not even trying to be subtle about it, and her hands are braced on his forearms and when did they get there? And Luke is warm and when she looks up, his eyes are on hers, and despite all that bravado and provocation there’s still a question there, and all she would have to do to answer is lift up on her toes and finally, finally press her lips against his, and -- 

Alex coughs. The oxygen goes out of the room like someone opened an airlock, and Julie feels herself sink, just barely, back down on her heels. The world fills back in, colors and sounds suddenly too bright, too abrasive. Tearing her eyes off Luke, she glances over his shoulder to where Reggie and Alex are, still with their instruments, watching them intently. Alex looks politely put out, his eyebrows tilted up with incredulity, like he's asking if they seriously just made him watch that. Reggie, on the other hand, hides nothing in his expression, shock and amusement there in equal parts as he glances between Alex and the two of them still tucked close against the piano, jaw askance in a surprised smile. 

"Are you done?" Alex asks, in a tone that sounds less like a question. "It’s not that I mind…" he gestures between the two of them with a drumstick. "This, but like, time and place, dude." He's not talking to Julie. Luke clears his throat, appropriately chastised, but still looking smug as shit. 

"Um, sorry," she mutters as he returns to his spot next to his amp. 

Alex shrugs. "Not your fault," he says, "from the top?" 

"Uh," she says, frozen for a moment in embarrassment and confusion. She looks to Alex, and he gives her one of his soft, kind smiles, the sort that makes her feel like everything is going to be okay. “Right, okay,” she finishes, as her hands twitch and she settles back into her body. Rushing back around to the bench, she flexes her hands over the keys, curling them into fists and then back out again when they tremble. “From the top.” 

The rehearsal goes -- okay, after that. The magic is missing; therefore, while she usually feels inspired and courageous and empowered walking out of the garage, she just feels exhausted and drained. She eats dinner with her family, and her dad definitely notices that she’s uncharacteristically quiet, but saves asking about it until after Carlos is safely sequestered with his iPad. “How ya doin, kiddo?” he asks as she helps him clear up the dishes. “Everything okay?” 

Julie looks at her dad with mild alarm, wondering what exactly he knows. He does his best, he really does, but it took him a while to even notice she was in a band. Not to mention, he still believes they’re holograms. “Um,” she says convincingly. “Yeah?” 

He smiles kindly, in the way that means he’s very politely calling bullshit. “Alright, mija. What’s going on?” 

Heaving a sigh, Julie keeps her eyes on the dishwasher she’s loading, trying her best to plan an escape route out of this conversation. “I promise, Dad,” she says, “It’s nothing.” and then, what she thinks are the magic words. “Boy stuff.” 

But Ray’s been prepping for this, had conversations with Rose about it before she passed, while the cancer slowly ate her alive. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to be there for her daughter through the time in her life a girl needs her mother the most, and she wasn’t about to let him hide behind toxic masculinity and leave Julie to figure it out on her own. “Okay,” Ray says, trepidation clear in his voice but also not unwilling to approach the topic. “What’s his name?” 

Julie almost drops the pot she’s scrubbing. “Does it matter?” she asks, her voice crawling up several octaves. 

“Just trying to learn who is in my daughter’s life,” he answers diplomatically, sitting down at the counter to make it clear he’s not letting her out of this one easily. 

“I promise, Dad,” she says, doing her best to frantically dodge the interrogation she knows is coming, regretting she brought it up at all, cursing herself for being so obvious. “It’s dumb. You don’t even know him.” 

Ray nods slowly, pretending to believe her. Julie goes after the pot a little harder, because maybe if she just finishes the dishes she can go upstairs and bury herself in her bed and not have to have this conversation anymore. “It’s not that guitarist, is it?” he asks, and her spine goes stiff as a ramrod. Ray’s her dad, but he’s not blind. He’s seen the way they look at each other when they perform, the way the boy follows her around the stage like a puppy, desperate for her attention, disappointed when she jams with the other members of their band and not him. He’s an excellent musician, but Ray knows too many stories of near-legends gone sour with misdirected young love. 

“No!” Julie cries immediately in an obvious lie. “Of course not!” She turns, half-laughing, explanations falling out of her mouth “We’re just friends,” she insists, lacing her fingers in front of her and nodding exaggeratedly. “Just friends. Only friends. Uh-huh. Friends. And!” she continues, gesturing widely, “he doesn’t even live here! So that… wouldn’t even make sense!” she laughs awkwardly. “So no way. That it’s him. No way it’s him.” 

Ray sighs out a laugh that Julie’s too panicked to hear and leans forward on his elbows. “Alright, nina. Just be careful, okay?” She’s nodding along, edging her way towards the stairs. “You and your band…” She looks like Rose, in that hoodie that practically swallows her, hair piled messily on top of her head. Her mom was also a terrible liar, he remembers fondly. “You have something special. Don’t throw that away for a boy.” 

Julie nods rapidly and then bolts, thundering up the stairs before throwing her bedroom door closed behind her and diving headfirst onto her bed, burying herself in decorative pillows. How does everyone  know?? First Flynn and then Reggie and Alex and now her dad? Is she that obvious? (Um, yes.) She flops onto her back, staring up at the colorful tapestries slung across her ceiling, the string lights and posters and art. Usually, she loves her room, the feeling of her creative mind as a space she can inhabit, exploring her heart and the things she loves without having to shut out the outside world. But tonight, she feels trapped in her own head, so she grabs her notebook and squeezes out the window, perched on the roof outside her room. 

The evening air is cool and crisp, the gentlest bite warning the oncoming winter, as much as there is a winter in LA. She spends a while scribbling down half-baked lyric ideas and doodling angry black scribbles around the edges of the pages when nothing comes out right. It’s harder to write on her own, now, without the steady pulse of Luke’s genius behind her, the electricity that flows between them as they create impeccable harmonies. Sometimes, it feels like music belongs to the both of them together, a joined force, like they’ve given up their individual melodies for something greater. It’s thrilling and terrifying all at once. 

Eventually, she just ends up holding the notebook open to ‘Perfect Harmony’ with one hand, the other arm wrapped around her legs, her chin propped on her knees. She still hasn’t shown it to Luke, afraid of how real it feels, how clear it makes her feelings for him. Also, it’s a ballad, which they haven’t even approached yet, and she has no idea how Reggie and Alex will feel about such an explicitly romantic duet. She’s thinking that maybe she might be able to vague it up, maybe even make it a solo piece, when Luke appears next to her, like thinking about him draws him to her. (Which might actually be true -- she hasn’t examined that very closely.) 

“Hey!” he says cheerfully, all awkwardness from the evening’s rehearsal ostensibly disappeared. He plucks the notebook out of her hand, using the other arm to hold back her immediate demands for its return. “New stuff?” he asks. This is not normally such a grievous invasion of privacy. Ever since they started writing together, their songwriting journals have become common property, and half the pages in hers are marked up with his handwriting and vice versa. 

“It’s not ready yet!” she cries, pushing against the (stupidly strong) arm he has across her collarbone, willing to climb bodily over him to snatch the notebook back. Luke’s face very slowly falls as he reads it, the lyrics sinking in, and her protests trail off as she stops scrambling to grab it out of his hands. 

He stands suddenly, pacing across the roof. “Did you --” he starts, breathing shallowly, his tongue tucking his teeth between his lips, nostrils flaring before he speaks again. “Why did you copy this out of my songbook?” It’s not accusatory, only a question, born of true confusion. 

“I didn’t,” Julie replies without skipping a beat, equally baffled. 

“I wrote this after the garage party,” he says. “How is it in your notebook?” 

“I wrote it at school before the garage party,” she replies, doing her best to keep down the memory of the Luke in her imagination and the song coming to her fully formed in the form of a Patrick Swayze-esque daydream. She didn’t even tell Flynn about that part. 

“At school…” Luke repeats, studying the lyrics with a furrow between his eyebrows, and as much as Julie is also reeling from shock at the mystery, it’s kind of adorable to watch him try and solve it. “This doesn’t make sense,” he says, looking up at her, signature grumpy expression in place. He tilts the notebook flat, like he’s presenting it to her, hoping she has the next steps. Like he’s reached his conclusion, and it’s that he’s confused. 

“It doesn’t,” she says, and it comes out as half a laugh unintentionally, just looking at his ridiculous, adorable face. 

“Why are you laughing?” he demands with exasperated urgency. “This is super weird!” He rushes over and collapses next to her, a mess of flannel and limbs and beautiful dumbass. He shoves the notebook back into her hands as she folds her legs underneath her, relinquishing her grip on her knees. 

“Yeah,” she sighs, unable to wipe the grin from her face. “Yeah, it is.” Luke looks like he wants to ask her what she’s smiling at, but then he starts smiling, too, because her happiness is his happiness. Julie’s already past the strange coincidence, lost in the joy of his gray-green eyes and the feeling of him next to her. She’s too used to strange, to the ever-changing rules of the afterlife and the constant uncertainty that Luke and her boys bring to her life. Yes, it’s strange, but she’s in a ghost band and her crush is dead and still manages to look at her like that so she has a certain level of perspective when it comes to things like this. 

“What are you --” Luke tries to say, but her eyes are on his and they’re warm and brown and kind and he’s finding it a little hard to form sentences. 

“This is ridiculous,” she says, and he’s nodding without knowing what he’s agreeing to. “We wrote the same song on the same day,” she laughs, and he nods again, half-listening, half lost in her. She’s excited now, about the possibility brought on by magic and her connection -- their  connection -- souls tied together with passion and music and love. “That’s impossible!” It cements something for her, the feeling of coming together, of sliding into place. They’re so solid, tight, together, on the same wavelength… musicians have put it a thousand ways throughout the years, to communicate the feeling of a co-writer, a bandmate, a partner, reading your mind, singing the next line, playing the next riff that was just in your head. Julie and Luke get the added bonus of being inexplicably spiritually linked. Nothing can break that, or replace it. She’s not scared of it, anymore. 

“Impossible,” he echoes. He always feels a little bit stronger, a little more alive whenever he’s with Julie like this, just the two of them, hanging out or writing music, and he’s in her immediate proximity, soaking in the warmth of her brown skin and brown eyes and the chaotic energy of her wild, incredible hair. She pulls him in, without knowing the power she holds or the light that she emits, casting a golden glow over everything around her. 

“Luke,” she says, and he tunes back in, realizing that he’s steadily leaning toward her as they sit on the roof, Julie cross-legged, Luke angled toward her, one leg stretched out, his elbow propped on his other knee. “Are you listening?” 

“Um,” he swallows, “Yeah?” but he’s looking at her lips, not her eyes, and he’s thinking about kissing her, just once, just to see what she tastes like, remembering the smell of gummies and m&ms, hoping she’ll be just as sweet. She doesn’t say anything, mostly because she forgot what she was going to say in the first place, watching his eyes watch her mouth, breathing him in. He’s too close again, closer than any friend or bandmate should be, and there’s no mic between them, and the door to her room is closed, and there’s no bandmates or brothers or dads, and her heart pounds in her chest. 

When she tilts her chin towards him, she feels ready, finally, knowing what he means to her. Only a breath separates them, but they both stop, waiting for the inevitable interruption, the door slamming open, or someone calling up from the yard below, but it doesn’t come. Realizing what they’re both waiting for, they breathe out a simultaneous laugh, their foreheads dropping together. The tension fades, and Julie’s smile feels uncontainable, demanding every inch of her face as this beautiful, goofy, genus, talented boy adores her while she sits there, falling in love with him. 

It’s easier, this moment, than the one before, because it feels less laden with the weight of someone pulling away, unsure or unwanting. This moment is comfortable, joyful, the two of them acknowledging every minute of want and disappointment and hilarious misfortune over the past few days, acknowledging what they would have asked for instead. And when Luke finally reaches up, pulling her in gently with his hand on her neck, his thumb sliding over her jaw, it’s with confidence and tenderness, reassured that she wants this, too. Julie leans easily into the touch, and when their lips meet, the spark and rush is better than any performance, any screaming crowd drowning in lights. They kiss each other, moving together, leaning in as one, harmony made in the movement of mouths and the press of lips, and this moment -- it’s perfect. 

[queenied]

La La Lu💕☁️

Babysitting? Simple, that was one of the most easiest tasks Sora had ever been given. He amongst Axel, Riku, Ven, Roxas and Terra were to babysit an infant baby for Aqua's sweet friend, Darling Dear.

"Never hung around a baby before." Riku admitted, he rubbed the back of his neck as the boys dismounted from their Gummi Ship with Aqua and into the World of New Orleans. A bayou city bustling with horse and carriage and people itching to arrive on time to work. Because they would not want to cause any sort of tension within this world, the magic within Yen Sid allowed the boys plus Aqua to adjust to this world's customs and styles so the order ensured their attire was appropriate for the sign of the times.

"Relax Riku, it's a baby! What's the worst that could happen?" Sora grinned, nudging his best friend. They followed behind Aqua towards a very gated neighborhood, the houses were large and neatly in rows from one another. Even the trees on the sidewalk were gated and many of the neighbors had a dog right beside them, walking in rows.

"Sheesh, even the trash cans have gates around them. What sort of High-maintenance dungeon are we in anyways..." Axel rolled his eyes, Roxas snickering a little at his friend's remark. Before Aqua whipped around and faces towards the guys.

"Alright boys, in the house we're about to enter, there's a newborn baby. Who you will be looking after. I expect the five of you to be on your best behavior. Darling Dear and her husband Jim are going away for a bit and it's impossible to bring their baby with them." Aqua stated.

"Why didn't you ask Xion and the girls to look after the kid instead?"  Roxas suggested.

"Because the girls are already dispatched to a mission to Atlantica. Anyways, Darling reached out to me and Yen Sid suggested I brought you boys since I'm unable to tend to this mission because I have Keyblade master business to worry about."

Ventus smiled brightly at Aqua, grabbing her hand he looked up at his older companion. "You can count on us Aqua!"

"Now that's what I wanna hear." she smiled tiredly and approached a tall but large house. The windows were tightly shut but beautiful ivory laced curtains adorned them, and the stairs were white as well. A single doggy-door was implanted onto the front of the house which gave everyone the impression that there was a dog about the house—almost everyone in this preppy neighborhood had one.

Aqua knocked on the door, almost instantly a barking dog could be heard. She chuckled happily as she was greeted at the door by a Cocker Spaniel who happily barked and jumped around Aqua's feet.

"Well, hello there Lady!" Aqua giggled and petted Lady's brown fur that laid upon the top of her head. Then she was greeted by a tall, slender man  with a red mustache. He looked very much 'about business.' He stood at the door and nodded his head kindly at Aqua.

"Hello Jim! Long time no see." Aqua greeted the man of the house. He rubbed his pointed chin. "Good to see you again Aqua. Sorry to trouble you at such short notice but Darling and I appreciate your help. She and the baby are upstairs. We trust that little Jim jr doesn't give you a hard time. He's a very polite little baby...that he is."

Lady zoomed past Jim Dear's feet and scampered outside to the five boys, she barked and jumped upon Sora's legs. Her energetic pounces nearly causing the brunette boy to fall onto the grassy terrain below him and the others just laughed.

"Oh, Jim Dear, these are the babysitters. They're trusted friends and I promise they'll protect baby Junior with all their heart. That's Sora, Axel, Riku, Ventus and Terra." Aqua introduced the five of them as they made their way towards the door. Jim Dear sneered a little bit, his fatherly instincts kicking is as five unknown males show up to care for his baby.

"You can trust us Mr Dear!" Sora said proudly. Riku nodded. "We're sort of a group of overachievers. We're super trustworthy too.

Jim's eyes scanned over each of them until he turned to Aqua. "And where will you be going?"

"I'm far too busy, which is why I trusted them with this task. I know things will be fine Jim." Aqua pleaded, Jim soon obliged, allowing the group to entire their beautiful home. Lady continuously barked behind them. Excited that a fresh group of faces were inside her house.

"Darling is just upstairs." Jim called out before he began to pack the rest of his belongings along with Darling Dear's for their long trip.

Roxas and Axel raced up the long curving staircase and the rest followed behind.

A beautiful and low singing voice ringed out the baby's nursery. An angelic looking woman who sort of resembled a princess sat upon a rocking chair, frills covering the curtains which shone a nice set of sunrays. Her voice was just so dreamy, it could put anyone to sleep or even calm them down.

La la lu, la la lu

Oh, my little star sweeper

I'll sweep the stardust for you

La la lu, la la lu

Little soft fluffy sleeper

Here comes a pink cloud for you

La la lu, la la lu

Little wandering angel

Fold up your wings, close your eyes

La la lu, la la lu

And may love be your keeper

La la lu, la la lu, la la lu

Aqua walked into the room slowly to not awaken baby Junior, greeting Darling quietly. The boys followed behind Aqua, each of the hiding behind Darling Dear, staring down at the sweet little baby. His eyes closed but in a relaxed manner and his rosy little cheeks bright pink. He was so tiny...Sora could just die from the cuteness overload.

"Thank you for coming, Aqua." Darling whispered kindly. "Baby Junior has been quite fussy lately, but only that song seems to keep him at bay." She chuckled softly. Aqua grinned, taking a quick glance at the baby.

"This is Sora, Riku, Terra, Ventus and Roxas. They'll be babysitting little Junior." Aqua introduced each boy, however they seemed to be far too enchanted by the sweet little Starsweeper who'd lain in his crib sleeping his little heart away.

"Thank you so much for helping us boys, I'll pay the five of you as soon as our trip is over. And thank you Aqua for bringing them here. So sorry for the trouble! I just hate leaving my little baby so early." Darling sighed before she gave Junior a quick kiss on his soft little face and dashed down the stairs.

"You sure you guys can handle this?" Aqua asked nervously. "If anything happens to Junior I dunno what'll happen."

Terra approached Aqua, resting a hand on her shoulder. "We've got it under control. We're keyblade heroes...and this is just a baby."

💕☁️10 minutes later...

"OH MY WORLDS! THIS CHILD WILL NOT STOP CRYING!" Riku panicked as he was covered in baby powder and was scrambling on the floor to quickly pick up all of the diapers that he dropped when he was attempting to change the stinky diaper that Junior was using.

Sora held the baby in his arms, his ears ringing from the loud cries and wails that the baby mustered. "Make it stop!"

"Quick someone grab the pacifier!" Ventus yelled as he and Terra were hurrying to the kitchen to prepare the baby bottle. Roxas was trying to cheer baby Junior up by casting a few waterga spells to put on a little water show, but that only made the little child cry louder.

Meanwhile, Axel was knocked out cold on one of the beds in the nursery. Sleeping soundly like a baby, not helping at all.

"Hush little Junior!" Sora whined, the baby only screamed louder. Roxas reached down within the baby's toy bin to grab different rattles and stuffed bears for him to become occupied with. Junior would be quiet for a total of ten seconds before he starts to cry once more.

Just then, Lady returned from her little doggy walks with her fellow dog friends Jock and Trusty. She dashed up the stairs but immediately winced as Junior continued to cry.

"Ah, there you are Lady! Can you help!?" Riku gathered the diapers and grabbed Junior from Sora's hand and continued to attempt at changing the loaded diaper.

"Where the heck is Axel!?" Ventus yelled out, unable to hear his own self think as he and Terra heated up the bottle upon the bottle heating station. Axel only snored, he seemed unfazed by the wails and cries of baby Junior.

"I'm making sure he doesn't get paid when Darling Dear returns." Terra grumbled, he attempted to pick the bottle up from the heating station but burned his own-self and gasped, throwing the bottle in the air. Ventus scurried to grab the bottle before it breaks onto the ground.

"Remind me to never have kids when I get married! Okay Riku?" Sora massaged the temple of his head, trying to relieve the headache he had from the cries.

Lady barked and jumped up and down as if she was trying to tell the boys something. She ran to the baby's crib and pushed it over to Riku with her own head. She started howling Darling Dear's lullaby.

"What's she trying to say?" Roxas groaned as he handed Riku the clips to keep the diaper together. Then Sora handed Riku an adorable pastel blue onesie to allow baby Junior to wear.

"Lady, what are you trying to tell us?" Sora lifted Lady from the ground and brushed his tired fingers through her brown fur. His head pounding like a drum from the headache the baby gave him. The cries continued as Terra and Ven ran upstairs to the room from the kitchen.

"Here's the baby milk!" Terra handed the bottle to Roxas who gently inserted the bottle into Junior's little mouth. He seized crying for a total of 2 minutes.

"Two minutes of silence was all we got." Ventus collapsed onto the floor, surrounded by baby items and the smell of baby milk formula all over his hands and  a little bit of powder on his cheek.

Axel slowly woke up, scratching his back and walking towards the rest of the guys. He chuckled lowly. "Woah, calm down youngster." He grabbed baby Junior who was crying endlessly. "So milk didn't calm you down? No biggie..." he groaned before rocking the tiny baby.

The boys stared at Axel in awe, he was amazing with babies for some reason. Junior was quiet while Axel held him and rocked him around the room. Axel reclined on the beautifully painted rocking chair and rocked back and forth as Junior stared up curiously at Axel's fire red mane of hair. 

"How are you doing that?" Roxas asked, he walked over to the rocking chair and Sora and the others later did. "Yeah what are you doing?" Riku questioned.

"Shush." Axel silenced the guys before he started to hum lowly. Secretly, Axel had a beautiful singing voice. As in, he could sing lovely ballads as if he were a Disney prince. Those emerald green eyes staring directly at baby Junior as he began to sing the beautiful lullaby that Darling would sing.

Lady smiled and curled onto Sora's lap listening to Axel sing. That was what she was trying to tell the boys.

This red human knows what he's doing. Lady thought to herself as she watched Axel sing.

La la lu, la la lu

Oh, my little star sweeper

I'll sweep the stardust for you

La la lu, la la lu

Little soft fluffy sleeper

Here comes a pink cloud for you

La la lu, la la lu

Little wandering angel

Fold up your wings, close your eyes

La la lu, la la lu

And may love be your keeper

La la lu, la la lu, la la lu

Terra stared confusedly at Axel until the song was finished, the baby slowly closed his little eyes, cooing cutely until he was fast asleep in his own little baby world.

Axel stood up slowly from the rocking chair and lowered baby Junior into the crib. Covering his little stomach with a swaddle blanket made of beautiful pink silk.

The boys stared at Axel until the ex-organization member raised an eyebrow. "Speak nothing of my singing." Before he yawned and collapsed on the floor next to the crib to fall asleep. Lady jumped down from Sora's lap and curled up next to the crib in a protective manner before falling fast asleep.

"Roxas, you've known Axel for a while. How come you didn't know he was good with babies?" Riku asked confusedly as he dusted the baby powder off of his black shorts.

Roxas blinked twice and shrugged. "Beats me, he never spoke about his hidden talent for singing either." Roxas stated before laying back on one of the beds in the nursery. Everyone slowly falling asleep after that long time of caring for a tiny child. Who knew nursing a Little Star Sweeper could be so difficult.

💕☁️ 2 hours later

Sora was greeted with Lady's licking all over his face, he groaned and then laughed a tiny bit, waking up, he heard the door unlock and he stretched.

Jim and Darling Dear were home. He happily walked downstairs to greet the couple and help them with their bags.

"How was your trip?" Sora yawned. Darling smiled and removed her winter's coat. "Oh Sora, it was tiring. Nothing but adult business really. How was our sweet little star?" She asked, placing the umbrella into it's rightful spot before being greeted to Lady who ran happily towards her owners. She barked and licked all over Darling and Jim's cheeks.

"Junior? Oh he was such an angel." Sora chuckled and lead them upstairs to the nursery, where the boys were awake. They all stood over baby Junior's little crib, where the small baby was fast asleep.

"My sweet baby..." Darling walked up to the crib, she sighed in content, glad to have trusted the boys with her son.

"Thank you for caring for my baby. As I promised you boys, I'm paying you all for your hardwork. Did Junior give you a hardtime?" Darling asked as she dug into her purse to pay each boy.

"He was a bit fussy but nothing a little singing cant handle." Terra grinned and looked at Axel who was staring down at baby Junior. He loved that baby even for the short amount of time he got to know him.

"Well that's wonderful! Thank you again for watching after him. I'll be sure to tell Aqua all about you boys. Maybe you should consider your own babysitting service." Darling Dear chuckled before lifting her baby boy out of the crib and into her arms.

💕☁️back at Mysterious Tower

"So you're telling me Axel was able to sing a baby to sleep?" Xion whispered to Roxas as he told his best friend all about what happened.

"Yeah, he's apparently good with babies...I wonder where this trait came from." Roxas laughed before hearing someone behind him clearing his throat. The room suddenly felt warm and he knew exactly who it was.

☁️💕

thank you all for reading !

[lilacmoon83]

Mysterious Fathoms Below

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 10: Peril in Portland

Their cross country trip so far was a rousing success. They had hit many lakes and beaches along the way and the morning after they arrived in Portland, Snow and David took them to a secluded beach they had found a couple hours from the city. It was their first time seeing the Pacific ocean and they were all very excited. After spending the day together as a family, they headed back to Portland and to a park that was near the office David would be working.

Snow kissed him tenderly, as they prepared to say goodbye for a while.

"Go on...we'll be fine, but we'll miss you," Snow assured him.

"I'll miss you too," he said, as he hugged the kids and headed for the office. Snow sat back down with her book, while the kids ran around the park and Emma joined her.

"Hey Mom...can I go get some snacks for me and the squirts?" Emma asked. Snow noticed that there was a convenience store down the block and nodded.

"Okay...but be careful and try to get more than just sugar laden stuff," Snow said, as she handed her some money and shifted the baby in her lap. Emma smiled and headed down the block, while her brothers and sisters continued to play. Jackson whimpered a little and she dug his teething ring out of his back.

"Oh that tooth is giving you trouble, isn't it baby," she cooed, as he watched onto the teething ring.

"Hey Mom...shouldn't Emmy be back by now?" Ben asked. He was right and she started to get concerned.

"Go round up the twins and Astrid. We can all walk down there together," she said. Ben did as she asked and she put Jackson and Astrid in the double stroller, as they left the park together.

Emma browsed the snack aisle and put a few things in her basket. She smiled, as she picked out some gummy bears. Astrid loved gummy bears. She looked ahead and noticed a boy stuffing a box of pop-tarts in his jacket. He turned and saw that she saw what he was doing, but they were both stunned.

"Bae?" she asked in disbelief.

"Emma...how are you here?" he asked.

"Nevermind that...I'll get that for you," she replied, as she grabbed the box from him.

"You don't have to do that," he insisted.

"Do you have any idea how long me and my family have been looking for you?" she asked.

"Why?" he asked, as she picked up a few other things and waited, as she paid for them. Once she took the sack, they exited the store and she handed him the box. He tore open a package and started eating hungrily.

"Because...we thought of you as family and wanted to help you," Emma replied.

"No...you want me to go back to Storybrooke with you and to my Dad!" he cried.

"Would that be so bad?" she asked.

"Yes! Do you know what he did?" he asked.

"Yes...we have the book, remember?" she replied.

"He abandoned me!" Neal insisted.

"And then made sure the curse happened so he could find you," Emma replied.

"And ruined a bunch of people's lives in the process!" he cried.

"But he told my parents that he knew he made a mistake! I mean, doesn't he deserve a second chance?" Emma asked. He was about to retort when two men approached them.

"Not a peep there lass and start moving," the man said, as he showed her a gun in his coat.

"You too, young man," the other man said, as he also showed his weapon.

"Who the hell are you two?" Neal asked.

"Keep walking, boy...or you'll get lead poisoning," Jasper hissed.

"Emma!" Snow called, as she approached with the kids. Horace smirked.

"Well...you've made this really easy for us," he said, as he grabbed Ben by the arm and held a firm hand on him.

"You'll follow along with all the brats, beautiful or I'll pick a few of them off," he threatened.

"Excuse me?" Snow asked dangerously.

"Do it...or I rip that necklace off your pretty neck and all of Portland will know your secret," he warned. She gasped, wondering how he could know, so she followed them, afraid they would make good on their threat or hurt one of her children.

Once they arrived at an abandoned dock, they were all tied up, except for the little ones, who were frightened by now.

"Shut that brat up!" Jasper snapped, as she did her best to soothe him, even with tied hands.

"He's frightened...lower your voice!" Snow snapped, as Horace looked through her phone.

"Okay...we're going to call the hubby now and then the Madam will be along to meet her catch," Horace said.

"Who is the Madam?" Neal asked.

"Nevermind kid...you're not a part of the plan, but since you seem important to blondie here, you're still alive. But that can change," Horace threatened, as he dialed David and put the phone to Snow's ear.

~*~

David looked through the documents that Cleo had collected.

"So...Neal Cassidy. He jumped a huge bail in Phoenix and now he's been spotted here in Portland?" he asked. Cleo nodded.

"Both the Phoenix PD and Portland PD are clamoring over who gets him. Phoenix wants him for stealing twenty grand in pricey watches. Here in Portland, it's petty stuff mostly, so Phoenix hired us. Either way, we get the payday and their district attorneys can fight over who gets to prosecute," she answered. David squinted, as he looked at the grainy photo of the culprit.

"This is the best photo they have?" he asked. She nodded.

"He's young...but he's good. Knows where all the cameras are and how to avoid them," she replied.

"Okay...well, if he's sticking to petty stuff, we should canvas the convenience stores and the grocery stores," he said.

"Agreed," she replied, as they prepared to head out when he got a call on his cell phone.

"David!" Snow cried, before someone else was speaking.

"She's a lovely lass...a spitfire too," a man said in what sounded like a British accent.

"Who the hell are you and where is my wife?" he demanded to know.

"My name isn't important, mate...but I am enjoying the company of your lovely woman and your noisy brats. Six is quite a brood...but then I guess I wouldn't be able to control myself with a fetch like her," the man said.

"If you touch one hair on her head or any of my children…" he growled.

"You're not in the position to make threats...Mr. Nolan and you'd do yourself well to hold your tongue. I know your secrets, mate. I've seen the...tails and I have the proof," he said. David went pale at that and swallowed thickly.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"Come to the Highland Docks tonight at nine pm...it's an old defunct dock on the east side of the city. No cops...or me and my partner will have some fun with your gorgeous wife, if you get my drift," he said.

"I'll be there...but touch them and I'll be your worst nightmare," David warned, as he hung up the phone.

"What's going on?" Cleo asked.

"Someone has S...Margaret and the kids. They want me to come to the Highland docks tonight. No cops or they're going to hurt them," David replied.

"For what? Why would they take your family?" she asked. David didn't know who they were, but he knew that they had somehow seen them in their other form.

"I don't know...but I have to go," he replied.

"I'm going with you," she insisted. He was about to protest, but she put her hands up.

"David...I know you and your wife have secrets. I've been an investigator for a long time. Whatever it is...it's safe with me," she assured him. He sighed.

"Okay...but you'll have to believe it to see it," he said, as he put his jacket on. She got hers and they headed out. Their search for Neal Cassidy would have to wait...or so they thought.

~*~

Snow had finally gotten the little ones to quiet down and she glared at their captors, before turning her attention to Emma and Baelfire.

"We've been looking for you for a long time, Bae," she whispered.

"So Emma told me...but you shouldn't have," he replied.

"We care about you, sweetheart...and I know that your father did some really terrible things. But he does love you," Snow said. He opened his mouth to retort, but she put her hand up to stop him.

"Hear me out," she requested and he remained silent.

"Before David and I had kids, I wouldn't have understood what he had done, because I would have sworn that I wouldn't have done anything remotely close to the things he had done, even for a child," she said, pausing for a moment.

"But then I became a mother and David became a father and that completely changed. I would do anything for my children...and I mean anything if I had to, even bad things, I'm afraid. When it comes to our kids, we would act in the moment and think about our actions later. It's just what a parent does and it makes us very imperfect," she continued.

"And someday, you'll understand that. And maybe, just maybe you'll be ready to give him a second chance then," Snow said, giving him something to think about.

"Right this way, Madam," Horace said and she stiffened at that, as she could hear the clicking of high heels on the floor.

"Well, well...long time no see, Snow White," the woman said and the raven haired beauty was shocked to see the woman before them.

"Mom...do you know her?" Ben asked.

"Mummy huh? My, my, that gorgeous husband of yours has been busy," she purred.

"Cruella De Vil…" Snow said, spitting the name in disgust.

"In the flesh...or fur, rather," she said, as she ran her hands over the monstrosity she was wearing.

"Do you like it? It's my newest purchase," she said, referring to the black and white mink coat she was wearing.

"Why...or how are you here?" Snow demanded to know.

"I could ask you the same thing...though I think I'm about to find out," she said, as she looked at Horace.

"Show me," she requested, as the man advanced on her. She shied away, but he ripped her necklace off.

"No!" she cried, as there was a poof and her legs became a brilliant white mermaid tale.

"So...that's how you and chisel chin escaped the curse," she realized, as she admired her tale.

"A curse?" she asked. Snow glared at her.

"At first…" she answered.

"Ah...then you saw the value in this magic. Tell me though, how did you get your hubby cursed with this?" she asked.

"Our story is none of your business, but if you must know, Charming found me even though I was cursed and had no voice," Snow replied indignantly.

"Yeah and Daddy gave Mommy true love's kiss!" Rose added and then got shy, as the woman's eyes raked toward her.

"Then why do you still have a tail?" Cruella asked.

"Because the Pink fairy told us that we could use true love's kiss to restore me to my human form...or she could use the reverse and make Charming like me...make us both this way. I thought by doing that and escaping that Regina would give up on her revenge," Snow replied. Cruella snorted.

"Well, she didn't," she said.

"I know...how did you escape the curse?" Snow asked curiously. Cruella smirked.

"I have my ways," she said, as Jasper suddenly hit the ground, unconscious.

"Oh good...it's about to get interesting. Come out, dahling...and careful with your movements. I have everything important to you in grave peril," she called. David emerged from the shadows.

"Ooohhh...you are certainly a treat for the eyes," she gushed.

"Cruella?" he asked in disbelief.

"The one and only," she replied.

"What do you want?" he demanded to know.

"Well...as someone who has found a family of mermaids, I could make a fortune, while the lot of you would end up in some circus somewhere," she replied.

"You're going to sell us?" Emma asked in horror. Cruella cackled, as Cleo emerged beside David, her eyes wide at what she was seeing.

"Your wife…" she uttered.

"Yeah…" David said. While he knew it was overwhelming information for Cleo, he had a feeling he could still trust her.

"Just let my family go! You're not making any money off us," he said.

"No...actually that's not why I need you anyway. But if you'd like to keep them breathing, you will all board this yacht with me and take me to Storybrooke," Cruella replied.

"You want to go to Storybrooke?" Snow asked.

"Yes...mummy is in a bit of trouble, you see. The man I married in this land is dripping with money, but he was just indicted by the Feds for fraud and if I don't escape, I'll be going to prison too. But in Storybrooke...I'll be safe," she replied.

"You're worse than Regina...why would we lead you right to Storybrooke?" David asked. Cruella smirked and Horace cocked the gun in his hand.

"Because if you don't...my associate is going to make a terrible mess out of your beloved wife," Cruella threatened. David put his hands up and Cleo did as well. Jasper, who was coming around, frisked them both and confiscated their handguns.

"Now...shall we be on our way? It's a smooth ride on my husband's yacht and it has all the amenities," Cruella said.

"I can't walk without my necklace," Snow replied. Cruella motioned to David.

"No funny business or bullets fly," she said. He picked her and the baby up in his arms and they shared a torn look. He carried them onto the ship, while their children, Baelfire, and Cleo were taken hostage as well. It would be a long trip to Maine and there was no telling what havoc Cruella would unleash on a cursed, unsuspecting Storybrooke...

[bumblebeereus]

Wordless Ways to Say “I love you” Serie.

Word Count: 1164 A/N: So…this is new for me. I’m currently writing a 50 blurb/os series based on exactly that “Wordless ways to say I love you”. I’ll try to update this hopefully a few times each month but I’m not sure if I’ll manage to do this. English is not my first language so sorry if there’s any typo. Sorry for the spacing if you’re reading this from your phone. Hope you like it. Feedback is always welcomed, thanks for reading this. –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Wearing their favourite colour – Julian Brandt. Not everyone can say that they have their crush wrapped around their fingers but she’s one of those lucky ones. Julian is head over heels in love with her, but who could resist a five-year-old girl as adorable as sunshine? Reus’s little girl is the cutest thing he has ever seen and when he found out that she had a crush on him, he was even more in love with her. They share gummy bears when the training sessions end, they share their favourite animal and he even bought her a little stuffed penguin that she called Brandt. He is, along with Roman, the first option when it comes to babysitting her. She loves playing with him at football and he’s always there for her when she wants to play with someone. Today, for example, they’re having a date. Yes, a date. He promised to her that he’d take her to eat some pancakes and walk around the park after school. And of course for Marco and his wife it was more than okay for them to go on a date after school. She asked him one thing, they needed to wear clothes of their favourite colour, apparently, that was the theme of their date. Marco has sent him a picture of his little girl getting ready for him, saying that she was excited it’s an understatement. Her mommy spent half an hour making her hair as she wanted it, two braids tangled in the back of her head, looking like a crown, simply adorable. She wanted to put make-up on but Marco said that she doesn't need it to look perfect like mommy so she passed on the make-up. “He’ll be here in fifteen minutes, sunshine.” Marco lets her know, resting on the doorframe of the bathroom looking at his daughter “You’re too cute to handle.” He leans to kiss her in the head making her chuckle. “Do I look cute, daddy?” She asks twirling around for her daddy to see the whole outfit perfectly. “This is a secret between you and me but…you look cuter than mommy.” She makes a pinky promise with her daddy and she smiles looking at him when the doorbell rings. “Oh, looks like your date is here.” The little girl runs downstairs to meet her date for going out and have a nice afternoon in the park and most importantly eating pancakes. She’s wearing a denim dungaree dress along with a bright yellow jersey, she knows it’s his favourite colour and it’s also hers so it was meant to be. She’s the one opening the front door and the little one throwing herself into his arms as he kisses her cheek. “We’re matching!” She says clearly excited when she sees him wearing a yellow sweatshirt and a pair of denim. Because not only they share their favourite animal but now they have the same favourite colour. “We’re matching!” He mimics her standing up with her between his arms, his index finger brushing her nose “But it looks better on you. Are you ready to have some pancakes?” “Yes!” She throws her arms in the air “Can I have them with a lot of chocolate?” She says in his ear sharing a secret with him. “Of course, and we’re not gonna say a thing because it’s our afternoon and we make the rules.” He winks at her making her smile and blush. For her, he was the best, along with of course uncle Roman. “Ready to go?” “Let’s go!” Her little legs swing as she sits herself waiting for the treat she was promised a few days ago when Julian said that he was taking her to a date. He’s looking at her in awe, he simply adores her with all he has. She has him wrapped around her little finger and he couldn’t care less. He’s used to be around kids but she’s something else. “Do you need help with that, sunshine?” He smirks raising an eyebrow looking at her plate with three pancakes perfectly places with chocolate syrup and whipped cream that she was trying to get rid of. “I don’t want this near my pancakes, but you can eat it, Ju.” Yes, she calls him Ju and not uncle Ju because he’s her crush and of course, her uncle can’t be her crush so he’s the only one in the team that’s not in the “uncle” category. “That’s why I’m here for.” He smiles using her spoon to get rid of it putting the whipped cream in his coffee making it now, even more appealing. “You look like a Disney prince.” She says eating a mouthful of pancakes and he chuckles when she says that “My friends said you look like one and it’s true.” Way too adorable for his own health. “I’m a Disney prince if you’re my Disney princess.”She blushes immediately drinking from her cup too shy to look at him. “Daddy says that princesses aren’t cool.” She shrugs and he cracks because that’s too Marco even for him. “But you’d be the coolest princess ever because you play football better than all of us.” They’re feeding the ducks, squealing when the little ducks swim near her to eat the little piece of bread that she’s throwing to the water. “Ju, look.” She tugs his sweatshirt pointing at a family of ducks swimming together: mommy daddy, and two little ducks “Daddy, mommy, Nico and me.” She says happily for making that comparison. “And you’re there, you do that in training a lot.” She points at a duck swimming in circles. “Ooookay, enough ducks for the day.” He says holding her walking away from the lake but she’s making a sad face and giving him her best puppy eyes “What’s wrong?” “We need to take a picture because we’re matching and wearing our favourite colours and I wanna have it in my room, please.” She pouts and he can’t help but laugh because she’s too adorable. “Then let’s take that photo.” He asks politely to a couple that’s walking near them and they smile nodding holding his photo ready to take the picture, not every day Julian Brandt himself asks you to take a picture of him with the captain’s daughter, both of them looking adorable together. He’s smiling as she kisses his cheek while he’s still holding her but kneeling on the floor with the lake in the background of the photo. Cute to say the least. He thanks the couple for taking the picture and looks at it, and he can’t help but smile because it’s actually pretty cute. Basically, because she’s in there. “We look good in yellow.” “That’s because it’s the best colour in the world because it’s the colour of Borussia Dortmund.” She says proudly as she holds his hand starting to walk again, well more like jumping “Can we repeat this more often, Ju?” She asks looking up at him beaming. “Whenever you want, sunshine.”  –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– tag list: @avsensio

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: Atonement, chapter 3

Ansem always had a penchant for strays, so it's not at all surprising when he takes in the orphaned child Ienzo. The boy's presence changes everything, far more than Even is willing to admit. Ienzo's brilliance seems promising, but the arrival of a young Xehanort pushes the apprentices onto a dark, cruel, inhumane path which will affect the future of the World. And even once it's all over with--once Xehanort is dead--they still must pick up the pieces, forgive one another, find a way to atone for their atrocities, and struggle to accept the humanity which has been thrust upon them.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

It takes three days for the young man to wake from his slumber--Even doesn’t know what to call it. It doesn’t qualify as a true coma, according to his tests; and when he pokes into one of the tomes the mouse king left behind, he finds an abstractly worded passage regarding darkness and sleep, that it can threaten the mind. It’s more puzzling than anything.

It seems he divides his attention between Ansem’s two strays--Ienzo, reticent, not quite himself since the night in the lab, and Xehanort. He and Aeleus try to figure out what happened, asking questions as gently as they can, but now the boy’s insisting he can’t remember. Even isn’t so sure, but he’s also afraid to push, less it destabilize him more.

Aeleus and Dilan examine the molten lump of the gummi block. It still hasn’t hardened after all these hours, and its temperature isn’t even high. From the lead-encased fume hood they watch the tendrils of darkness swirl against the display. They placed a mouse inside, to see how it reacted; it panicked, squealing for hours, trying to outrun the tendrils before--and Dilan recounts this with horror--the darkness ate it whole, leaving behind nothing but one stump of a leg.

They aren’t sure if the block is doing it on its own, or if it’s due to the darkness, but it produces small amounts of electricity, enough to light a ten watt bulb for a few seconds. Even itches to see what it does to cells--if it truly does eat away at them, or if it has a transmutative property as well--but rather than pursue this, he must tend to the young man.

Ansem is with him, much like he was with Ienzo in those early days; Even has a feeling he knows where this is going. At least if Ansem takes in this stray too, this one is old enough to feed and clothe and educate himself.

Xehanort wakes with a gasp. “Who--?” he asks.

“Easy, young man,” Ansem says kindly. “You’ve suffered a trauma.”

He blinks, his strange gold eyes taking everything in. “Where am I?”

“A city called Radiant Garden. We found you by the castle gates, during a horrible storm.”

“A… storm?” he echoes. His voice, while hoarse, is very deep for a boy that age.

“Do you remember what it is that led you here?” Ansem asks kindly. Even pulls the IV from the young man’s hand, bandages it.

“No, I…” He tries to focus, squinting. “It’s all… a blur.”

“It may come back to you,” Ansem says. “No need to worry. Where did you come from?”

The young man stares blankly. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t--” Ansem’s thrown. “Is there anything you do remember?”

“I’m Xehanort.”

“Other than that.”

The boy seems horrorstruck. “It’s all--I can’t--” He touches his forehead.

Even’s mind spins back to his reading. “...Retrograde amnesia,” he says gently. “Possibly as a response to an injury. But every test I ran showed no injuries…”

“We needn’t worry our guest,” Ansem says. His voice is polite, but Even senses the warning. “Not while he is recovering.”

The young man meets Even’s eyes. “No,” he says. “Tell me.”

Very quickly he finds that Xehanort is insatiably curious--about them, their work, this world he’s ended up in. He wants answers. As he’s physically well, he’s soon moved into an empty room on their floor. Ansem presents him with the clothing and armor they’d found with him. “Very strange,” Xehanort mutters, running his fingers over the material. “Nobody around here wears anything like this.” He’s gone out on his own, to explore the city and get his bearings. He’s an adult; Even has no real interest in what he decides to pursue. “You say I arrived with the storm… Is that more than just poetic? Could I have possibly been brought here by darkness?”

Even wishes not to care about him, but the curiosity nags, itching, almost more than the darkness. It’s clear the two are tied.

“How? And… why?” Xehanort presses a hand to his brow. “It’s so strange, what I do and don’t remember. I can’t remember my hometown, but I know to read, to tie my shoes. This loss of memory can’t be merely neurological.”

He has a point; all of the boy’s tests were normal. “Then what do you believe it is?” Even asks.

He thinks. “Perhaps… my heart?” He lays a hand on his chest. “If I were truly exposed to darkness, and my body wasn’t impacted, that’s all that could be left. Right?”

Even has to hide his shocked expression. It’s beginning to click, the pieces coming together. The darkness--Ienzo’s claim to have lost memory. “Your… heart,” he repeats slowly. “Xehanort… perhaps you were a scientist in your previous life.”

The boy smiles. “Well. Anything’s possible.”

This just emphasizes their need to be able to test and examine’s people’s hearts, and Ansem agrees. It isn’t just feeling, or bonds, it can clearly be so much more. Memory! He’s almost dizzy thinking about it.

Though Ienzo is temporarily banned from their research, Xehanort quickly assists; in some ways, it feels like he’s always been there. It’s clear he doesn’t have the education, but he picks up the studies with an unnatural speed, faster even that precocious Ienzo. “It could be my memories,” he says, returning a medical text to Even. “Maybe they’re coming back. It just feels… right.”

“You certainly are extremely bright,” Even says, with a smile. “Who knows--perhaps it is fate, that brought you here.”

“Perhaps…” He smiles, but then it fades. “But… then how did I get here? If I’ve learned anything, it’s that it takes so much power and effort to harness the darkness. And why would I have done it in the first place?”

“I can’t answer those questions,” Even says.

He nods. “Might I examine that block?”

“If you like. Please be exceedingly careful. You don’t want it to injure you… not like those poor mice.” He knows they are just lab rats, lesser beings, but they still feel physical pain.

“I will, sir. Thank you.”

It’s the politeness, more than anything, that makes him smile. “My pleasure.”

---

In all this, something in Ienzo begins to change. He’s still learning as much, as quickly, still occasionally nightmares aloud. But he becomes again reticent--not mute, but speaking as little as possible. He withdraws from the others, often spends his time hiding in the library (according to Braig). Even doesn’t pretend to understand it.

Xehanort chuckles. “Is it not obvious?”

Even looks up from the diagrams spread in front of him. “Say what you mean,” he says, a bit snappishly.

“He’s jealous ,” Xehanort says. He shakes his head. “We’re all down here, making these exciting discoveries--and then talking about them in and around him, over dinner, what have you.” Ansem has recently formalized Xehanort’s apprenticeship--not point not to. The young man is their inciting incident. “And he’s smart enough that not being involved must hurt. How would you feel, Even, if someone was working on your passion project instead of you?”

He looks up. “You are… right. But it’s not safe for him here.”

Xehanort considers this. “I’ll talk to him,” he says. “Let’s see if we can’t ease the tension.”

---

The good news comes in a pair. Seeing the cataclysmic storm the night of Xehanort’s arrival made the board of ethics more amenable to studying the heart. They approve Even’s plan to speak with human subjects and examine their hearts. This requires the construction of tiny conference rooms, to protect the privacy of their volunteers; it goes fairly quickly. Secondly, Ienzo is allowed to be present in the room again--on one condition.

“It could be worse,” Braig says. “Babysitting duty? Hell of a lot easier than trying to keep kids out of the castle.”

“I’ve no idea what you said to Master Ansem to allow him back,” Dilan says, with a shake of his head.

“I’m his pet project,” Xehanort says simply. “Ienzo’s his son. Together, we’re unstoppable.”

The boy certainly does seem a lot happier; it helps that Xehanort puts the fear of god in him when it came to safety procedures. This makes Ienzo’s seventh birthday a happy one, as they do have a lot to be thankful for.

They put notices in the papers, in community spaces, to find subjects for their study involving hearts. Initially, there’s not much response; a few people, here and there. They take scrupulous amounts of notes on these people--their lives, if they’ve suffered traumas, their physical makeups. Ienzo believes that the balance within the hearts is tied to the bonds of people; so they interview friends, married couples, siblings, parents and children.

“Ienzo’s right,” Ansem says. “It makes a difference in the samples.”

But how to truly determine light and darkness, all without hurting their subjects? It’s a sticky situation. The pods Dilan built all those weeks ago can still divine the difference in matter, with some few tweaks by Xehanort. He can’t deny that the machines look terrifying to step into, especially to an outsider. So while all the others bicker and waffle over the best way to do this, Even experiments again with his cells, his embryos. Things that are alive, but unfeeling. He holds the petri dish over the raw darkness extracted from the gummi block. Ienzo, bored of the arguing, watches as well from the other side of the glass. It gives Even a thrill, to only have gloves and some glass separating him from the darkness. Once exposed, he takes the cells back to his microscope. The darkness seems to have caused spontaneous division. This must’ve been what was missing all along, this power. Breathing a bit hard, he places the cells in an incubator, to see how it affects their functioning.

Xehanort is displeased with what they’ve done so far, momentous as it is. On one of the days Ansem isn’t there, he says, “We need to go farther.”

Aeleus squints. “How so?”

“Aeleus, we’re so close. We… we’ve discovered so much, but we still haven’t gotten close to how it all affects memory.” He smooths a flyaway hair. “I’ve been doing some… reading. Master Ansem lent me some of the books that King Mickey brought and I…” His hands are trembling. Ienzo stares up at him. “I’ve managed to create darkness. It’s great we still have that gummi block, but who knows how long it will be until it degrades?”

Even nearly spits out his coffee. “You created darkness? How is that even possible?”

“It’s magic too, not just science.” He closes his eyes, focusing hard; they see something like smoke in his palm. “Look,” he says with difficulty. “I… tried it on the mice… it causes a sort of frisson, in their balances. I’m afraid I have no samples left.” The darkness disappears. “If we could do it in people, maybe we can feel their bonds, see what it has to do with memory--”

“How do you propose doing this without killing people?” Dilan asks.

“I mean, I… I can try my best--” He swallows. “I would like to speak with Master Ansem. To see if we can get greater permission. We can… inform, the people. That way they know what they might risk. The people here love science, sirs. Some of them must be willing to make sacrifices.”

In his chair in the corner, Braig is smirking just the slightest.

---

Another amnesiac ends up on their radar, though she does not appear during a storm. She’s younger than Xehanort, about fifteen; unlike him, she doesn’t even remember her name.

“She’s the perfect opportunity,” Xehanort says. “With this darkness, maybe I can help her. Heal her. Let her remember.”

Even’s seen him practicing, in the courtyards. He can manifest it with ease, now. “I don’t know how Master Ansem will approve that.” Apparently, Xehanort’s idea made him fly into a rage. Even has no idea how that happened; he’s seen Ansem angry, but not like this. He’s ordered them to put a stop to the human side of the experiments, and so far they’ve listened.

Xehanort’s gold eyes bear into his. “He doesn’t need to know.”

“But Xeha--”

“Aren’t you curious?” he asks in a low voice. “Sir, I know you’ve been thinking about it. And I wasn’t going to say anything, but I know what you’re trying to achieve, with those embryos. I think that’s amazing--it could change the world. Maybe the worlds! I know the darkness is the only way you’ve made progress, the only way you’ve been able to start giving them their own hearts.” A pause. “Not to mention… if I can control memory… don’t you all have a thing or two you wouldn’t mind letting go of?”

He feels like he can’t breathe. “How did you find out about that?”

Xehanort doesn’t answer. “And Ienzo,” he says. “I know how hard things have been for him, how much pain he’s in, how little help there is--I can purify his mind of those memories. He can have the strength to be a fantastic researcher, instead of a sufferer.”

“I am not sure,” he says, reeling. “I--”

“Besides,” he says. “If no one knows the girl’s here, and there’s… an accident, nobody will ever know. No ethics board. No Master Ansem.” He stands back up, smoothing down his ascot. “Think about it,” he adds, at a normal volume. “Sir, don’t you deserve to be more than Master Ansem’s errand boy, his babysitter? Wouldn’t you rather this be your legacy, rather than a… a meaningless title?”

Even can feel his heart racing. “You won’t hurt her?”

Xehanort squeezes his hand. “I shall try my very best.”

---

They make one of the small rooms into a makeshift bedroom for the girl. They’ve already had subjects A through W, so it seems natural to label her as the next in line. She doesn’t seem quite as lucid as Xehanort was, like her mind is half in a dream. Xehanort soon loops in the others, and while they too are hesitant, they are only doing this for the greater good. And who knows? Maybe they can give this girl her life back.

They begin with a psychological assessment, of sorts; most surprising is that Ienzo wants to be the one to do it. “I’m little,” he says with a shrug. “I’m non-threatening.” He gets her to talk about dreams. Most of the dreams are not interesting, or of note--teeth falling out, realizing one is naked in public--but there are a few Ienzo suspects are memories “because mine hide in my dreams too.” She mentions something about a desert, about hoards of people; after she admits this, she falls into a deep sleep for nearly a week.

“Ienzo, this is excellent,” Xehanort says. “Her heart must be damaged--making her mind remember those dreams made her body shut it down.”

Ienzo doesn’t smile, the way he normally does receiving such a compliment. “Then why doesn’t mine?” he asks.

Xehanort kneels to his level. “Because your heart is strong,” he says. “So is your mind. You can handle the stress; she can’t.”

“So I’m special,” he says dryly.

There’s a gleam in Xehanort’s eye--curious. “Yes,” he says. “You are.”

---

When they come back the next morning the place has been ransacked. There are papers everywhere; one of Aeleus’s plant pots has been smashed, leaving dirt all over the white floor.

“Braig,” Dilan hisses. “Isn’t this your purview?”

“Dude! I can’t be here twenty-four hours a day. You forget I’m union?” He shrugs. “It must’ve been the night guy who let in our little friend--or maybe one of you forgot to lock the door.”

They padlocked it recently, in case Ansem were to try and get in. Even maintains they are merely working with the darkness, with the gummi block; this airtight door was a precaution should it get out. It should be harder to lie to him after all these years.

Braig walks over to the girl’s room. They don’t lock it--she never goes anywhere either way, almost catatonic--and she sits on the mattress, on her hands. He snaps. “You, girl. You see anything?”

She shrugs, her long dark hair falling over one shoulder.

“You messing around in here?”

She shakes her head.

“Well then, who was it?”

“I must’ve been asleep,” she says.

“There’s some fishy business going on,” Braig says. “Better keep a tighter lock in here, in case something falls into unsavory hands.”

That night they lock the door of the girl’s room for the first time. She doesn’t react at all. They are ransacked two more times over the following month; they begin locking their papers in file cabinets in the offices. Xehanort is convinced that they’ve done all they can with the girl without further intervention. He goes to her one cold winter morning, to examine her heart; the rest of them, including Braig, watch. Ienzo, in particular, seems fascinated; Even has to put a hand on his shoulder to hold him back.

Even feels his own pulse hammering as he watches the boy hold his hands over the girl’s chest, probing gently with the grayish strings of darkness. “I can feel her heart beating,” he says. Her eyes are wide, staring, darting back and forth in fear. “Does that hurt, friend?”

“No,” she says, with difficulty.

“I’m trying to find your memory. Your heart’s strong, I can feel it. You should be proud of that.” He probes more; she flinches.

“Careful,” Even says without meaning to.

There’s a faraway look in Xehanort’s eyes. “I can feel it,” he says. “The memory… it’s like chains, like a heart’s DNA--”

Dilan scribbles eager notes.

“There’s darkness inside of her, too, already. And light. So much light. So beautiful.”

“Do you see anything?” Aeleus asks.

“I can feel it. The memories are… severed. Choppy. I wonder if I can--”

She screams, a blood-curdling sound that causes Ienzo to cover his ears.

“Xehanort, that’s enough for now,” Even says.

---

They try it several more times on the girl. She complies, never fights, never asks questions; but it’s more of a sort of exhaustion, Even figures, than a lack of will. He wonders if it’s the darkness tiring her out, or else she’s sick.

So they know memories are in chains, and they’re in the heart; and that within the heart exists darkness as well as light. Stuff their studies all implied; now there’s proof. Even’s checking the girl when he sees it; a slight, almost imperceptible curl of darkness, mistakable for her dark hair. The fogginess and vacancy are gone from her eyes. He almost wonders if Xehanort’s been able to heal her. “You don’t know what you’re messing with,” she says urgently. “You have to stop this now.”

“Did you remember something?” he asks gently.

She screams and clutches at her chest. The room smells like smoke. “You can’t--you can’t--”

He isn’t sure how he knows; he jumps back and slams the door. She’s still wailing, pounding on the window, the sound barely muffled by Plexiglas.

“What’s going on?” Dilan asks. Ienzo’s eyes are wide, and Aeleus is frozen in horror.

“I was merely checking her vitals,” Even says breathlessly. “I don’t know what--”

“Oh,” Xehanort says softly, almost as if in a trance. He walks slowly towards them, pushing past Even and Ienzo numbly. He rests his palm on the window, his gold eyes vacant. “I--”

“Boy, what did you do?” Even asks.

“I thought the darkness was making her stronger, but it’s…” He covers his mouth. “It’s devouring her--”

Aside from the keening, the room is deathly silent until they hear Braig’s “...The hell ?”

Xehanort’s head snaps up, and for a long, long moment the two held eye contact. Braig approaches slowly, tentatively, and reaches for the crossbow at his waist.

“No,” Xehanort says. “We must study this.”

“Really? Cause I’m not sure I want to find out what that’s becoming.”

In an instant, “she” became a “that.”

“It won’t last long,” Xehanort says. “This is for… we have to know. Can’t you see what this is saying about human nature?”

It isn’t quick, in fact; she screams for hours, wordless, agonized shrieks. At first, Ienzo sits with his hands over his ears, but once it becomes clear the screaming isn’t going to end, he lets go. There’s something cold in his eyes, something Even hasn’t noticed before. If the boy truly is sensitive to darkness, he must be feeling something.

The screaming stops. They all approach the door warily, sure the girl’s dead; but this is not what’s facing them. She no longer looks human; her body is the color of ink, her hands and feet elongated into claws, her eyes a glowing sort of gold.

Wordlessly, Ienzo presses his forehead against the girl’s door. “...Heartless,” he whispers. “It’s gone.”

“He’s right,” Xehanort mutters. “The darkness has taken her heart.” And so it begins.

---

They spend most of their days in that lab, examining the new being, the Heartless; though Even is not here always. Two new pupils are accepted as Ansem’s junior apprentices. It’s not an uncommon process--the king has done it several times over the years--but Even figured with both Ienzo and Xehanort, there would be no need. It’s not like either of these boys join them, anyway; they have a bit of ladder-climbing to do. As he is still technically the one in charge of their training (though it feels increasingly ersatz), Even spends time with the boys. The quieter one, Isa, does have quite a bit of promise; intelligent, ingenious, and creative. As for the other, he can make the grade, but Even can’t figure out what on earth the boy is here for. He’s obnoxious; he interrupts constantly; he’s found poking around where he shouldn’t (perilously close to their lab); he’s often out of uniform and refers to Even by his first name.

Though he has hoped Ienzo would perhaps take with them, particularly Isa, the boy has no interest in socializing. He’s focused instead wholly on the Heartless, the girl, studying it (her?). They try to take samples from the Heartless, but it has no matter, and feels strangely intangible to the touch.

Between caring for Ienzo and educating the new apprentices, Even, again, finds himself increasingly pulled away from the lab. When he finally returns, he notes with horror that the divided cells he placed aside have died, becoming nothing more than black smoke in a petri dish. A heart is more than darkness. But how do they harness light? Is it the same?

There are also more subjects; volunteers, ones without amnesia. They are being quietly interviewed by Ienzo and Aeleus. The boy seems to have a natural aptitude for guiding the conversation, something Even’s never witnessed; women, in particular, tend to be tickled by this. “Aren’t you adorable?” more than one asks. At first, this seems to make Ienzo bristle, but soon, Even observes (and it makes him feel something cold and hard, something upsetting), the boy leans into this angle; using his stature as a way to get the answers he wants.

He never thought Ienzo could be manipulative.

Some of them are kept overnight, for “extended testing” and “sleep studies”, but Even sees Xehanort disappear inside each roomette, with any of the others (even Braig?). This goes on for several days; one woman asks to see her daughters (a set of twins) in the next room, wants to go home.

“I’m sorry,” Xehanort says. “But not quite yet.”

Even can feel this is getting out of hand. Once was enough, the one creature horrifying. Yes, all people have darkness, did they really need more Heartless? Yet, the scientist in him, growing louder than the rest of him, is intrigued, almost intoxicated; after all, one is not a decent sample size. Nothing can be proven with one. They’d need at least a hundred, if not more, to come to a universal conclusion--what is wrong with him?

“Sir?” It’s Isa speaking to him now, in the classroom space where he meets the two juniors twice a week. He hands him the test Even gave them. “Are you okay?”

He forces a smile. “Kind of you to ask. I’m merely tired, that’s all.”

The boy draws his hands behind his back, but doesn’t return to his desk. The other, Lea, seems to be hard at work, one hand in his hair, his eyes full of confusion. “Do you… smell that?” Isa asks.

Even cants his head slightly. “What?”

“It smells like something’s burning,” Isa says gently. “Lea thinks so too.”

“It stinks,” the redhead agrees.

Even sniffs; try as he might, he has no idea what they speak of. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“Might be electrical,” Isa remarks. “Thank you for the lesson. I’m going to go to the library for a little while.”

---

He tries clearing his nose with coffee beans, rubbing alcohol; he smells nothing other than the scents of the two substances. For about an hour he wanders around like a lunatic, sniffing various hallways. It all just smells normal; dust, food preparation, old books, laundry.

Odd. Perhaps the two were playing a prank on him. He won’t put it past Lea. And the two are awfully buddy-buddy. No matter.

When he returns to the lab, he can tell immediately that something’s changed. The lights seem dim; it’s almost gloomy. He notes, with something approaching horror (and, oddly, jubilation, a sensation only getting stronger the longer he stands here), that all of the doors are closed. Occupied.

“...That’s twenty-six,” Dilan murmurs, scribbling something on a clipboard.

“Twenty-seven,” Ienzo corrects. “The one in 4-B just went up.”

Even approaches them, perturbed. “Twenty-seven?” he asks.

Dilan raises an eyebrow. “Heartless,” he says, as though it’s obvious. “We had to release the Miller twins and their mother, but don’t worry, I doubt they’ll say anything unseemly. Xehanort made sure of that.”

“Twenty- seven ?” He hasn’t been gone that long; before there was just the one.

Xehanort emerges from one of the rooms, slamming shut its pocket door. The occupant screams, the sound muffled quickly. “We’ve made some changes, since you’ve been gone. We appreciate you continuing to give us a good face, Even. It’s very valuable.”

Even notes the absence of the “sir.” He turns slowly. The doors are different, heavier; the windows have a reinforced inlay.

Xehanort smiles pleasantly. Ienzo’s next to him, holding a clipboard. “Shall I catch you up on what’s happened?” They do not need to tell him, not really. Xehanort’s seeking to replicate what happened with the girl, with X-- “Oh, we’re using numbers now”--in order to prove the universality of darkness in the heart. “My thoughts next are to look into a scale of age. Are we born pure? Are children pure, as thought in the myths?” (At this, Ienzo’s head snaps up, and Even’s heart gives a weird twitch.) “Are we at some point changed, transformed?”

“Biting from the apple of knowledge?” Even asks sourly.

Xehanort shrugs. “Perhaps.” Braig just so happens to be toying with an apple. Cheekily, he takes a bite. “But my biggest discovery--perhaps the most important--is that we’ve found the realm of darkness.”

“You found it,” he repeats. “Just like that.”

“Not quite.” He stands up. “It’s easy for me to find the darkness now. I know wizards and magicians use their magic to teleport--I figured, the theory might be the same.” He holds out his palm. An oblong of darkness appears with a faint hiss and, Even realizes, the smell of smoke. “I’ve gone into it myself. There’s a whole world in there, one not bound by physics! And there are more, so many more, Heartless. I think--I think we can use it to travel. To leave this world behind.”

“...That so.” He feels numb.

“You don’t seem very pleased, Even.”

He forces a smile. “On the contrary. It’s merely a lot to wrap one’s head around.”

He bobs his head once. “Of course. Just think--we can apply what we learn here to whoever-- whatever --is out there. This is--the building blocks of the very universe.”

“Yes…” He feels it now, the pull of the thrill, his mind racing with the possibilities, a pull that makes him feel the most himself since-- And of course, if they can understand life itself , that would make his creation all the easier to realize. “Yes.”

Xehanort smiles. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

---

It feels like a million years since his last touchpoint with Ansem. So much has changed. Fifty-one brand new beings--his own brief, overwhelmed journey into the realm of darkness with Xehanort--the fact that his newest attempt with the embryos is still alive in its incubator. In reality it’s only been a few weeks.

“Don’t you look awfully pleased with yourself,” Ansem says. Even isn’t sure what to read into the tone, but Ansem smiles. “I take it things are going well?”

“Oh, extremely,” he admits. “Both Ienzo and Xehanort are invaluable assets.” Ienzo is technically too young to be considered a true apprentice, but it's all just paperwork at this point. The boy has thrown himself wholeheartedly into the project, is just as productive as the rest of them.

“I do wish I had more time to spend with you, but I’m afraid things are… intensely complicated at the moment. Between the city… Ienzo… the new junior apprentices… Well, you know I’d rather prioritize their learning than my personal pursuits. But I would like to see it.”

His heart about stops. “You would?”

Ansem raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I? I was there in the beginning. I should at the very least like to be a witness.”

Even nods, his heart pounding. “Of course, Master. We’d be very pleased to have you.”

“Excellent. I’ll make sure to set aside the time… say next week?”

“We’ll be ready.” He swallows. “I should go. It’s nearly dinnertime. It helps to keep Ienzo on a schedule.”

“Certainly.” He’s tapping the tips of his fingers together, an anxious gesture. Is this calculated? Does he feel Even’s paranoia? Or is he simply preoccupied with other matters? “Even?”

He turns. “Yes, Master?”

“There is one small thing.” His grin becomes more affable. “I’m positive it’s just a rumor--every now and again some hooligan or another will circulate them--but they say they can hear screaming, at night.”

He forces his expression into one of bored contempt; but yet, haven’t Braig and Dilan been saying the same thing? “A silly ghost story,” he asserts.

“Yes,” Ansem says, though something’s closed off in his eyes. “I’m sure. And I’m certain this has nothing to do with those missing persons cases?”

Even blinks; this is news to him, so he knows his surprise is genuine. “The what?”

“There are over seventy-five people missing. Once the number grows high enough, the authorities are required to report it to me. Funnily, it started shortly after I forbade young Xehanort from carrying out his manic experiments.”

Even truly feels the creep of panic now.

All affability has drained out of Ansem’s face now. He leans forward, across the desk. “Even, do you know anything about this?”

“You know I don’t.” He tries to make his indignation obvious. “As if I would ever do such an ugly, despicable thing. I took an oath, Master.”

He settles back in his chair, but the glint in his eye is still there. “You know I trust you,” he says. “But it never hurts to be too careful.”

Even nods. “Of course. I can only imagine how much infighting you must deal with. Now I must go.”

He nods, once. “...Be well.”

He leaves the office with his mask in tact, but he can feel the panic taking over. Ansem knows. He knows . Once he comprehends it all, Even would no doubt be taken in--all of them--worse, he can’t even remember what the consequences for something like this would be. He all but runs downstairs to the others. He feels faint, numb.

“Even?” Aeleus asks. “You look--”

“He knows,” he says through his teeth. “Ansem. He’s figured it out. You idiots. Did you think nobody would notice the people missing?”

Dilan guides him gently over to a chair. He’s gasping for breath now. Ienzo approaches Even. “What will happen to us?” he asks softly.

“Nothing will happen to you, child. I promise.”

Xehanort’s eyes are closed. “I know what we can do.” Over Ienzo’s shoulder, he mouths, “Let’s meet after dark.”

---

Once the boy is in bed, they reconvene.

“I’m afraid you won’t be happy with what I have to say,” Xehanort says. “But I’ve been weighing the options--our work is so much more important than the small fry. So to speak.” He’s asked them to meet in a courtyard, of all places, and his back is to them. The spring wind is cold. “Ansem will never allow us to do this work. It does not matter to him that the subjects have consented. He’s up on his moral high horse--despite the fact that this was basically his idea in the first place. After all, nobody’s died . They’re just… different. Why is our progress being stopped by a bunch of silly laws?”

Dilan squints at him. “So what do you propose? A coup? What then? You know nothing about how this city functions.”

“No, no, not a coup. Rather… Ansem’s going to go on a trip.”

Even feels shaky, nauseous now. “Is that a euphemism?”

Xehanort smiles. “Not at all. I think he’d find the realm of darkness fascinating. He’ll learn--he’ll understand why we’re doing all this. And he can no doubt learn to return whenever he so wishes.”

Even’s heart beats heavily. “What will we tell Ienzo?”

He thinks. “...That he’s gone mad,” he says softly. “Isn’t it true? Drunk on silly, bureaucratic power? He thinks he can control what we can and cannot learn? The boy’s better off without his mind blunted by such… petty matters.”

Again Even feels himself acting. “That’s fairly well reasoned, I suppose,” he says.

“So next week, when he comes… that’s what we’ll do. And Ienzo will conveniently be away. You can be with him, if you so wish.”

A plan comes to mind. “He may find that a comfort.”

Xehanort smiles. “Does that work for everyone?”

Aeleus’s face is unreadable; Dilan looks shaken, but it’s quickly replaced with steely resolve. “Of course,” he says. “Whatever you say is best.”

“...Quite. Well. I hope you have a good night, gentlemen. Sleep well.”

Even bobs his head and turns to leave the corridor.

“Wait,” he hears Xehanort says.

Blast. “What is it?” he asks, politely.

“Even.” He comes a bit closer. “I know you and Ansem have been affiliated for so many years. Doing this will not be difficult for you, will it?”

He shakes his head. Ienzo is way more important than Ansem; and much more vulnerable. The choice, he notes, is almost effortless. “We’ve been at odds for some time, as I’m sure you well know.”

“I just… want to make sure.”

“As you said. He will find it… enlightening. He may very well thank us.”

In the dim light, his eyes almost seem to glow. “I’m sure. As long as you’re on the right side. After all, considering you’re legally in charge of research and development, should you not be able to go through with it, this will all be on you. You know I don’t want that, right?”

It’s a threat if Even’s ever heard one. “Of course, Xehanort. You’re always so considerate.”

He holds out his hand. “I’m looking forward to our continued partnership.”

Even takes it, noting how cold, how papery, it feels. “...The feeling is mutual.”

---

Even bides his time.

He’s shocked, but relieved, when Ansem doesn’t show sooner. He isn’t sure why the king is allowing them this much time. Maybe to dispose of the evidence? Maybe he’s building a case against them, pooling resources? Either way, Even’s strung out and anxious.

It’s time to go.

Maybe it’s a cowardly, foolhardy move, but he’s taking Ienzo and leaving. Xehanort is obviously twisted, the darkness no doubt only helping. They’ll go into hiding, leave this city.

And go where?

Another world? Even has no power over darkness like Xehanort does; he doesn’t know if he wants to expose himself any more, or Ienzo, for that matter. But beyond the city limits there’s just stone, and crystal, and empty barren wilderness. He’s positive if they try to hide somewhere in this city they’ll be found.

He has to try something. This clearly isn’t going to end well. What if they should fall to darkness themselves? (But, the clinical part of his mind, growing louder and stronger, wouldn’t that be fascinating? To cast aside what it means to be human, to rise above ?) No, he’s becoming a lunatic.

He packs some things for them, hides them among the frippery in his closet. He tries to be pleasant, subservient, towards Xehanort, putting up just enough of a fight so that he seems himself. But truly Even feels as if he’s been backed into a corner; because he has been.

I’m such a fool.

He no longer cares if punishment befalls him; it’s Ienzo he’s worried about. Should Ansem disappear, should he himself become… compromised, what should stop Xehanort from molding the small genius into another sharp tool for him to use? Breaking down the boy’s conscience before it’s even fully formed, allowing him to do--goodness knows what?

What if that’s what he’s wanted all along?

He considers telling Ansem. Confessing, baring his soul, taking whatever came his way. Maybe so long as it all stopped, should Xehanort and his colleagues be contained. But Xehanort has the power of darkness. He can merely escape, and try again, elsewhere.

The night before their plan is meant to be enacted, he waits until the others are asleep, until it’s so late as to be early. He dresses and approaches Ienzo’s bedroom door slowly.

The door’s already open. And Even knows what’s about to meet him.

The boy’s nowhere to be found. On his bed, reading the storybook Ienzo must have left behind, is Xehanort. “Oh, hello,” he says pleasantly, setting the book aside.

“Where’s the boy?” He keeps his tone neutral.

“No need to worry. He’s quite safe. Sound asleep." He crosses his legs. "You weren't about to do something reckless, were you?"

Even takes a quick breath; caught. He tries to remain composed.

"See, I need him," Xehanort explains slowly. "Your boy is not as innocent or as purehearted as you think, Even. He likes this work. He's good at it. He knows exactly the right ways to break a person down, how to make the darkness spread faster. He's incredible. I will not have you waste him."

"He's only doing this to please you. Because he's a child. "

"Are you certain? Even, not everyone's born good. Some people have more darkness than others." He sighs. "But I digress. I didn't realize how soft you were… how weak. I thought you cared."

He says nothing.

"I believe in your replicas, Even. They can change the world… light a path to immortality. Place a heart in a new body… one can live infinitely."

"I see you went through my things."

"It was too tempting. You truly are a brilliant researcher."

"Where's the boy?"

"What's it matter? He's not yours. " A pause. “He's being freed. And you could be too, Even. Why do you hold so priggishly to such ties? All it's done is hurt you. Ansem's used you, manipulated you. He wants you all for himself. You could have the world."

He inhales shakily.

"...Besides. I'd hate for your record to be two for two, you know?"

Even blinks. "You'd joss him to keep me in line?"

Xehanort shrugs. "The choice is yours, Even. Or you could just leave. But either way the boy stays."

Even laughs; he can't help it. "You're so green, Xehanort," he says. "You understand nothing, you know nothing. A little power and you lose your head. No. That will not do."

"I've seen more than you know."

He's shaken the boy. Good. "You're so paranoid. You believe I'd leave now, when things are just getting exciting?"

Xehanort frowns. "I thought--"

"You thought what? Ienzo is prone to night terrors, and you remove him from his bed because you believe I'll--what? Take him? Disappear into the wilderness?" He clucks his tongue. “Only to die of starvation, or worse?”

"Why were you coming for him?"

"I check on him every night. Ask the others if you don't believe me."

"And the packs in your closet?"

"Supplies for a bad storm--they've gotten worse since you're arrived." He's infinitely glad he did not add clothing to them. "Xehanort. So quickly you feel so threatened. I'm on your side." Even can see him wavering. "Do you realize how long I've waited for an opportunity like this? As if Ansem would ever let me. I'm his babysitter--little more."

Xehanort grins. An intelligent child--but a naive one. "I must admit I'm relieved, Even."

"As long as I can assure you." He squeezes his hand, gently, trying not to shudder at the feel of it. "Now if you would please put Ienzo back in his bed."

"...Of course."

He turns to leave, his heart hammering. "So, is all in place for Ansem's… trip?"

He nods. On his way out, his shoulder brushes Even's. "Not to worry. It's already been done."

It feels like getting stabbed. "...Even better. Get some rest, Xehanort. You've earned it." He doesn't breathe until Braig brings the boy back. He's unharmed, deeply asleep; Even is sure they've sedated him. He smiles at Braig, and once they're in the hall, "I pray things went well?"

He chuckles darkly. "Put up a hell of a fight, the old codger. But he’s an academic. Soft.” He smirks. “No offense.”

Even tries to return the smirk. It takes all the rest of his energy. “None taken. I’m stronger than you think. Well. I will see you tomorrow, Braig.”

He goes over to the door. “Nighty-night.”

Even waits until Braig’s footsteps retreat; he can’t be entirely sure, the man has such a soft tread. He checks Ienzo’s arms for the pinprick of a hypodermic needle. He finds none, but they could have slipped it into a glass of juice, a snack. His breathing is much too deep and even; Ienzo hardly ever sleeps like this. “Oh, little one,” he says softly. “What have we ever gotten into?”

His heart is racing, nausea and dread pumping through his body, making him shake. He settles into the chair at Ienzo’s bedside, trying to compose himself.

Ansem in the realm of darkness.

There’s no way to stop Xehanort now. Not without risking Ienzo's life, or his own.

My old friend. I’m so sorry.

---

Ienzo doesn’t rouse until mid-morning; normally he’s up at dawn. He stumbles into the kitchen blearily, rubbing his eyes. He flops into a chair.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Even says. “You seemed exhausted last night, so I didn’t wake you.” He places a bowl of warm cereal in front of him. “Perhaps today you should work on your studies? It’s been a little while.”

He turns a bit green around the gills. “I’m not hungry,” he mumbles.

“You need to eat. Keep your blood sugar up.”

He shakes his head.

“Well, then at least have some juice.”

“I don’t feel well.” He admits this painfully. “I feel sick…”

What on earth have they given him?

“Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll bring you something to settle your stomach. Must’ve caught a bug, that’s all. No wonder you were so tired.”

He groans a little, but complies.

Even barely slept at all last night, full of knots. He thought he would feel worse; he feels not much of anything. Which may be for the best, if he has to deal with this. He gives Ienzo some medication, a wastebasket to be sick into.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” he says weakly. “You should go… work in the--”

“That’s quite alright.”

“I want you to. Please. They need you.”

“I think they’ll be fine for one day.”

“Where’s Master? Is he still going to come today?”

Even freezes. He hopes his face is placid. “He was called away, I’m afraid. He should be back soon.”

“Is that… good?”

“For the time being. Until we can convince him of what we’re doing.”

Ienzo heaves weakly, but nothing comes up. Even pats him on the back. “I can hear them,” he says softly. “Screaming. It has to stop--” Even’s blood runs cold. But yet, it is something of a relief to know Ienzo is not as callous as he acts around Xehanort. “All right. All right.”

“We’re hurting them.” He agrees, but struggles to console the boy. “They’re doing this for science, Ienzo. For the greater good.” “Make it stop!” He actually is sick this time, and Even holds the hair away from his eyes.

Once Ienzo’s through, Even wipes his face with a damp cloth. “When you’re down there,” he begins. “Do you do it because they asked you to? Or because you want to?”

“I…” He sniffles, trying not to cry. “The… it makes me feel… when I’m there…”

“Think about what you need to say. Take your time.”

He nods. After a moment, the boy seems to compose himself. “When I’m there it feels… good ,” he admits. “Making them this way… feels like we’re… changing the world. But when I’m away… I start to hear it. Even, am I… crazy?”

“Not at all, little one.” He’s starting to feel numb again. “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll check on you in a little while.” He pats the boy on the head, tucks the covers around him a little more closely. He tries to smile, but he’s shaking a--not a good sign for his own physical condition. The stress he’s under is no doubt bad for him. But what is he to do? Even tightens his ponytail, slips on his lab coat.

It must be darkness, making them feel this way--Even has felt it too, that sense of euphoria, of power, of discovery--because they truly are discovering so much . It certainly must not be good to expose oneself to it for so long. They’ve been treating it like radiation, with all the same precautions, but he has a feeling something so simple as lead will not stop darkness. They need something else, if this is to continue.

If this is to continue…

Must it?

He needs to speak with Aeleus and Dilan--away from Xehanort’s prying eyes. He’s the most senior apprentice. In Ansem’s absence, he should have the most power, the most control. He tries to smooth his expression into one of indifference as he punches in the numbers.

The smell down here is stronger now, acrid and smoky, darkness rising from the cells (that’s what they are at this point) like vapor. He gags a little, but quickly straightens. “Good morning,” he says. “I hope all is well?”

“Where’s Ienzo?” Aeleus asks. There’s something like guilt in his stoic face--with his knowledge of botanicals, Even doesn’t doubt for a moment that he was the one to drug the boy. Such trust Ienzo has for him--and how quickly this gentle man abuses it. The darkness is changing him. Dare he voice his concerns?

“Oh, poor thing seems to have caught a stomach bug,” he says breezily. “He’s resting now. The vomiting tired him out.” He notes, with pleasure, Aeleus and Dilan both wince and won’t make eye contact. So they were both in on it. Very well.

“He is rather fragile, isn’t he?” Xehanort asks, with a shake of his head. “No matter. Perhaps we can find a way to make him stronger.”

“...Quite.” Something breaks through his numbness, an indignation. “Has anything changed?”

“We’re at something of a standstill,” Dilan admits, keeping his eyes stubbornly on the report in front of him. “The numbers seem to have stabilized. The initial levels of darkness in the subjects seems to vary, but within it there are standard deviations. It’s only a correlation at this point, but look--” He pushes a spreadsheet across the table towards Even. He sits and takes it.

Even takes it all in. Gender, occupation, age--he notes that men at or near their prime, in positions in or adjacent to authority, seem to be the most vulnerable to it all. “How funny,” he says. “According to this, we’re the most susceptible.”

“Indeed,” Xehanort says, with a smile.

“I figured we needed to devise more ways to protect ourselves--I don’t think the lead is cutting it.” He gestures to the cells in the hallway, the darkness curling from below. “Very well. I will work on it. The rest of you may proceed as you wish.”

And he does work on it; but something like this serves as a perfect excuse to examine their behaviors, how they were reacting. They are different. The subjects are less human beings and more numbers. Even notes with a strange distance how easily Dilan shrugs off a woman begging for mercy. Should he intervene?

(Should he intervene, would Xehanort make good on that threat?)

He weaves together several different metal alloys, finds that darkness seems repelled by them; he weaves them into a scrap of fabric, one he covers a mouse with. When exposed to darkness, the mouse survives.

This is a process that takes several weeks; in the meantime they have other things to worry about. The city is abuzz with news of Ansem’s disappearance; nobody seems to buy the “trip” route, especially since if Ansem wants vacation, the time needs to be approved. The city officials are concerned; they interview all of them, but return to Even several times. Each and every single time he pretends to be dumbfounded and as confused as they are; after all, why would he leave without saying something to any of them?

Even knows this is his chance to ask for help, to turn himself in, to stop them. And perhaps it’s the thrall of darkness, or Xehanort’s threat on Ienzo’s life, but he denies everything.

On the matter of Ienzo…

The boy’s not stupid. He’s no longer buying their excuses that Ansem is merely on a trip. He’s become surly, distrustful. Finally, they agree to sit him down and tell him Xehanort’s truth (really, wouldn’t the actual truth be far more damaging to the poor boy? Even can’t have him falling apart with the darkness so close, it’ll claim his heart--).

He approaches them, his teal eyes making him appear much older than merely eight. “Where’s Master Ansem?” he asks.

Even reaches out towards him, but Braig places a hand on his shoulder. Xehanort crouches down to Ienzo’s level. “He had to go away,” he says.

“Go… away?” He raises his eyebrow.

This breaks through Even’s numbness; he turns away and retreats to the window, unable to watch this play out.

“He wasn’t well,” Xehanort continues. “He’s… he’s gone mad. He’s abandoned us.”

Ienzo inhales; it’s a painful sound. Even shuts his eyes.

“You poor child,” he says. “You’ve already lost so much--but we couldn’t stand to lie to you.”

He gasps again, a sound on the verge of a sob; Even recognizes it immediately. He turns, his own heart racing. “He’s panicking.” He crosses over to the boy, seeing him tremble and struggle for breath. He draws him gently into his arms. “Deep breaths, little one. Count with me.”

It takes him a long time to calm down, far longer than any of his nightmares. Even finally agrees to give him a tranquilizer. After this, Even too must lie down for a while, guilt washing around the ache in his heart.

It’s too late to get out of this; maybe the best option is to go through?  Give Xehanort what he wants? What does he want?

Ienzo is never quite the same afterwards. Like the beginning of his stay, he’s next to numb; there’s nothing behind his eyes. He does what he’s told no matter what it is--chores he hates, calculations the others have no time for. And anything Xehanort asks, up to and including speaking to their subjects. He’s gone cold.

If Even can perfect this protective fabric--if he, too, can learn to use darkness--they’ll go far away from here. He holds himself to this grimly, even as the darkness tempts him, calls to him, makes him want to push their subjects farther, past the threshold of inhumanity, even as he does so. This will end. Go through, not out.  

It says a lot about the state of Radiant Garden’s affairs, that the officials never seem to connect them to the missing people the way Ansem did. Or perhaps they’re too terrified--not that Even can blame them. Braig, Aeleus, and Dilan take rounds, experimentally; they confirm that no one comes near the castle gates, when before visitors would come in and out for all sorts of different reasons. The staff, too, seem to be disappearing. It takes Even too long to realize this is where their remaining subjects are coming from.

A bastion of darkness settles over them all.

---

“I’m afraid it’s inelegant,” Even says at one of their roundtables; Ienzo sits with his eyes focused on the middle distance. “But it’s something.” He lays the bolt of fabric onto the table. It feels odd, not quite like any fabric he’s encountered, but like anything else it’s synthetic. It originally was white, but the chemicals seem to have reacted, and now it’s black.

Xehanort runs his hands along the fabric, a small smile lighting up his face. “Oh, yes. This will do perfectly.”

They fashion lab coats with it, clothing and shoes. Even hoped that the layer of protection would help with the thrall, especially with the rest of them, but he still feels it, pulling him deeper into a place he swore he’d never go, a place below ethics, below morals. He barely bats an eye when Xehanort suggests they examine children’s hearts. He wonders--hopes--that whatever Xehanort discovers can help Ienzo.

Which is why he shouldn’t be surprised when it actually begins happening with those kids, when-- “Dilan, I will not stand for this. He is too young to consent.” He’s trembling. The man’s violet eyes are cold, empty. “We’ve treated Ienzo with respect. I think he deserves a say. It’s only fair. He is different than the average child. I think it would make the data quite fascinating.” “I will not allow it.” He tries to hold to this feeling, to use it to dig himself out of the pull of darkness. He used to despise this paternal instinct, and now it’s all he has left. “...You’ve grown too soft for the boy.” Dilan sneers.

Even lowers his voice, all too certain that little pitchers have big ears; Ienzo, in the corner, gives no indication that he’s heard them, but that’s about meaningless. “It’s shocking that you have no respect for his wellbeing,” he spits. “After all this time.”

“Of course I respect it. That’s why we would get his consent. ”

Even shakes his head. “I will do everything in my power to prevent this.”

“I figured you of all people understand the work we’re doing,” he replies, with equal venom. “We must let go of such paltry bonds, to rise above. To do the work we’re meant to. Whatever tenderness you have for him is useless. I suggest you get rid of it.” He scoffs and leaves the room, the lab door sliding shut behind him.

They make another discovery, perhaps the most disturbing yet. (Is any of this disturbing anymore?) For the first time, one of the Heartless leaves behind a body. But instead of being wreathed in darkness, it’s wreathed in grayness, in silver, a sort of matter that’s physically difficult for the eye to perceive.

Braig shakes his head. “That’s no body,” he says.

And Xehanort laughs. “No. Indeed it isn’t.”

---

There are fewer Nobodies (Xehanort fancies himself a real poet) than Heartless; they soon come to the conclusion that one must be rather stronghearted for the body and will to exist after death. The others refuse to use that word, referring instead to it as “transformation,” but in the purest medical sense it’s true. None of these “Nobodies” have beating hearts, organs, or blood; like the Heartless, it’s impossible to take samples. They vary slightly in shape, some appearing more human than others, but all looking a bit off, a bit alien, all lacking lucidity. Without asking the rest of them, Xehanort has Braig calmly exterminate them. If there was any doubt before, now there’s none. They’ve out and out committed murder.

Even’s surprised he doesn’t feel anything. Then again, he feels so little these days other than anger and exhaustion, with pinpricks of concern for Ienzo now and again. Murder seems the least harmful thing they’ve done.

Something seems to be rising, to be changing. He isn’t sure what.

Xehanort again gathers them in the courtyard; minus, he notices, Braig and Ienzo. “The fresh air is so lovely, isn’t it,” he says. “It does get rather stale down there.” Even’s no longer accustomed to seeing him in his normal apprentice clothing after all the black. “I have a proposition for the three of you; one a touch more radical than my last.”

“It would take little to shock me anymore,” Dilan says tiredly. Aeleus just blinks.

“We know now it is possible to separate the heart from the body,” he says. “That our stronger subjects had stronger Nobodies… ones more human. We’re men of science, of reason; we’ve resisted the pull of darkness this long, so we’re strong. But if we’re to continue to work with it… it may make sense, to let go of such things. For our own wellbeing.”

“Our hearts,” Dilan says incredulously. “That is radical.”

Xehanort faces them. He looks, for the first time, utterly exhausted. “I don’t feel much of anything anymore anyway,” he admits. “And I’m not sure any of us do. What else do we need hearts for, anyway? They are merely things of pain… suffering… they hold us back from what we’re capable of.” He locks eyes with Even. “I’ve… figured out a way to do it. One which will not be nearly so painful or prolonged as those of our subjects. Without our hearts… we would be free to travel the realm of darkness safely. We could go anywhere… discover anything. There’s a whole World out there, waiting, that nobody knows about.”

“Do you believe this will help you with your memory?” Even asks. “Or did you forget this is where that all came from?”

The man smiles. “I no longer care about my memory. This is larger than me. Than us.” He pauses, to compose himself. “What do you think?”

Shocking Even, Aeleus murmurs, “I will volunteer myself.”

“I will too. I am also feeling numb,” Dilan says. “This may very well be… useful, regardless of the consequences.”

Xehanort turns to Even, a small smile on his face. “And you?”

“I…” He takes a breath. It would be good, to shed these chains; but is it natural? And how does he know it won’t kill him?

If he dies, who will look after the boy?

“What of Ienzo? He's a child, he's too young to make such a decision.”

Xehanort shakes his head. “We will not take Ienzo’s heart. If he decides, the boy can give it up in the future.”

Very well. “Yes… I shall…”

“Excellent.” His voice has gotten deeper as he’s gotten older. It’s almost like gravel. “I look forward to this new chapter in our lives.”

---

But nothing happens as expected.

The majority of that day is a blur to Even. They are examining their subjects’ hearts, pulled clean from their bodies and trapped in pods; Even watches Dilan’s fingers work across the keyboard in the computer room. Ienzo is next to him, standing on a chair, observing, along with Aeleus. Braig is polishing his crossbow, a look of boredom on his face.

All of a sudden there’s footsteps. “Were you expecting guests?” Even asks Xehanort.

The man’s gold eyes are deadly. “No.”

Two teenagers burst into the room; Isa and Lea, the neglected junior apprentices. “We know what you’re doing,” Lea yells. “We saw the lab, those people. We told the police. They’re going to get you.” Isa’s silent as he meets Even’s eyes, his green eyes positively smug.

Xehanort cocks his head. “That so. Very well.”

He sounds awfully calm. Too calm. He approaches the boys slowly.

Quickly, faster than Even can perceive, Xehanort moves, and all of a sudden the boys are on the ground, darkness slowly encroaching them. He grabs Ienzo’s hand, he’s not sure why. “That was not necessary,” he says slowly. “They’re apprentices, they could’ve seen reason.”

“They only became apprentices to expose us,” Xehanort says.

“They’re the ones who ransacked the lab,” Dilan says, with realization.

Braig looks up a moment from his polishing, sees the bodies, and resumes, numbly.

“Now is as good a time as any,” Xehanort says. “Don’t you agree?”

Dilan sighs, powers down the computer. “Quite.”

Even feels something for the first time in weeks; panic, and a deep, instinctual sensation that this isn’t right. He takes Ienzo’s hand; Ienzo’s gone still with fear, seeing Isa and Lea convulse in an odd silence. “The boy…” He says. “He shouldn’t have seen--” And then there’s a cold knowledge.

Xehanort has lied to him.

He draws Ienzo into his arms, tightly. The traumatized boy doesn’t fight him. Xehanort, so deftly, pierces Aeleus's chest with a Keyblade-- when did he get that? “You fools,” he says, and his voice is trembling. “What are you doing?”

Xehanort sneers. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

He’s not sure why, but he tries to run; Ienzo’s gotten heavier over the years, making it more difficult than it used to be. Dilan trips him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Even throws his body over the boy’s, like a shield; the boy’s gasping in shock. “Take me,” he yells. “But don’t hurt the boy!”

The three of them close in on him. Even braces himself, clinging to Ienzo.

Xehanort’s gaze is pitiless. “The boy should’ve known better than to play in darkness.”

The tendrils descend upon him, upon them . It’s not painless as he's said, but perhaps the most agonizing thing Even’s experienced, his cells changing on a molecular level, everything coming undone. He’s still somehow awake, somehow able to meet Ienzo’s horrified eyes; he can see the darkness crawling over the boy as well. If anything, trying to protect him made him Xehanort’s victim all the faster.

Ah.

In his last moments of consciousness, he feels the tears in his eyes, cold as ice.

[leakirazine]

Pillow Fort

(@katealot)

One and a half years. One and a half years ago, the Hignue had invaded and unleashed hell on the world. Hordes of extraterrestrial electronic life overwhelmed humanity and in 6 months, that flame of human life was all but quashed.

Three months. Three months ago a team of four survivors set out on their mission to follow the whispers rumors of the Resistance, a supposed group of surviving anarchists with connections to an un-infested safe haven.

28 days. It had been 28 days since the last time they’d heard from Heirloom. After two months of weekly correspondence, the radio silence was more than unusual.

Pana sat on a pile of pillows in their corner of the room, a laptop on their lap, and a radio scanner next to them. Their brow was furrowed in concentration as they typed furiously. Their last communication had been on the 27th of last month. Pana glanced at the beat up calendar tacked to the wall. Today was the 24th. They let out a sigh through their nose and focused back on the scanner, picking up the radio that was attached and pushing the ‘TALK’ button. They played a recording of the S.O.S. tone into the receiver before speaking.

“If there is anyone who reads me, please come in. We need help. Again, if there is anyone out there who reads me, please respond. The city has been overrun. We are survivors who need help. Please respond.” They strapped a rubber band to the com so that the talk button would stay on and kept the S.O.S. on repeat, as it would stay for the next hour.

Then, through the front entrance came a voice and then another following suit.

“I just don’t understand why we have to go now. We haven’t had time to talk this through.”

“That’s not your choice, Leo! He’s my brother. Not to mention his husband and the others. Why can’t you get on board with this?!”

The first to come into sight was Akira, who stepped over the tripwire and disabled the intruder alarm up front. Then came Leandro, whose face was twisted in some sort of emotion that resembled either anger or sadness or maybe concern? Pana couldn’t tell.

“Well excuse me for being a little uncomfortable with up-and abandoning the only thing we know for certain is safe!” He shot in Akira’s direction.

Akira approached Pana’s corner, paying notice to when they pointed toward the lit ‘On Air’ sign and keeping his voice quiet.

“Any interference?” Pana shook their head. “Have you heard from Heirloom?” He tried to keep any twinge of hopefulness out of his voice, but shit, he needed good news. Pana’s frown deepened just so and then another shake of the head. Akira sighed and closed his eyes. A month was too long. They had to do something.

Leandro appeared behind Akira and put his hands on either side of his arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion.

“Look,” he said next to his ear, “I just don’t like the idea of taking you and Pana to chase after silence. If we don’t know what happened to them-”

Akira turned on a dime.

“Don’t go there.” He hissed in a whisper. And he stormed away.

Leandro looked at Pana and huffed. He reached into on of his jacket pockets and pulled out a package of gummy bears, tossing it to the ginger.

“Anything?” Head shake. “Damn. Guess I better go talk to him.”

“Probably.” Pana throws a green gummy bear at him.

“Hey,” he smirked, pointing at them “don’t waste those, they’re hard to find.” Pana cracked a smile and threw another gummy.

“Go console Akira.”

“Yeah, yeah…” And so he left Pana to their tech and headed toward the second story ladder.

                                             - - - - - - -

Leandro peeked his head above the landing. Akira was sitting with his back to him, knees folded to his chest with arm around them, looking at the lilac evening sky through the gaping hole that made it less of a room and more of a balcony.

He climbed up and walked over, plopping himself down next to him and draping his arm over his shoulder. Akira laid his head against him without saying a word. They stayed quiet, just watching the sky, droids zipping through the air and collecting data on the conditions to report back to their homebase. Leandro spoke first, softly and with care dripping from every word.

“You understand, everything I say comes from a place of love right? I need you to understand that.”

Leandro felt Akira take a deep breath against his body.

“I know.” He said. Another moment of quiet. “It’s just,” he sighed “I don’t know where he is. Dashi, a-and Dante and Sansa and Henrae… they could be lost or captured or… dead for all I know. And I… I just need to know.” He finally turned to look Leandro in the eyes. He looked so deflated. Softly he added, “Wouldn’t you want the same the for your family?”

It still hurt., but it was duller now. The topic didn’t knock the wind out of him like it used to. It didn’t cause him to double over and hyperventilate. And the ache he felt now wasn’t the same ache he got after hours of sobs racking his chest. Now it was more muted. He’d almost come to terms with it. His family had all been at home when the invasion started. Cuba was hit so fast and so brutally, the damage and death toll was devastating. What few phone lines weren’t destroyed were jammed and nobody could seem to get ahold of anyone. Rescue teams that had been sent didn’t come back and eventually the world diverted their attentions to… to places that stood a chance.

The only family that could have evaded it was his sister Vera, who’d been stationed in Canada during the attack. But even the military suffered. Wearing itself thin until corruption and panic all but tore it apart. Leandro stopped hoping. He made the very realistic assumption that everyone he cared about was gone. He’s lucky Tadashi, Henare and Akira had found him when they did. That kind of mindset doesn’t bode so well in a place where death wasn’t that hard to achieve.

“You guys are my family. All I want is to keep you safe.” He nudged against him so they swayed together for just a moment.

“We can only live in safety for so long.”  Hearing a catch in Akira’s words, Leandro realized with a start that he was crying. Akira wasn’t a crier. He was more of a punch-holes-in-the-wall kind of emoter. He stared at his downturned face while he continued. “The Hignue are closing in, they’ll have the city clean soon, we’d be lucky to get 3 more months here. Pana’s driving themself crazy looking for any shred of evidence Morgan and their family is okay and now Tadashi-” His shoulders shuddered and his words caught in his throat. Leandro’s brows knit together, and he looked on, heartbroken, at a boy who was so used to pushing his fear aside it ate him alive.

He turned and pulled Akira into his body and rubbed his back as he cried quietly into his jacket. He rested his head atop his and shushed him sweetly, looking out toward the edge of the city that used to taper off into a nice suburban area. Thing’s still smoked. Buildings lay crumbled against the skyline. Akira was right, of course. They didn’t have much longer here. They had hoped that Heirloom would make it to the Resistance base and give them the greenlight to follow by now. But when they stopped receiving telecommunications, shit hit the fan.

Leandro took a breath.

“We’re going to go after them.”

Akira met his eyes, puffy and but wide with emotion.

“But… we take time to properly prepare.” He took one last over the fading color of the sky. “We don’t go tonight, or tomorrow. We get our shit together. Then we’ll go.” He turned back to meet Akira’s gaze.

He doesn’t say anything. Just studies Leandro’s face before nodding. That’s all Leandro needed. He pressed a long, gentle kiss to his forehead.

They watched the darker hues takeover the sky and the moon grow brighter until it illuminated the sky in a soft pale yellow glow from behind a passing cloud. Akira retired downstairs to prep tomorrow, leaving Leandro gazing at the sky deep in thought, legs dangling. He thought about everything they were about to get into. About how the second they stepped foot beyond city boundaries they were completely at the hands of fate, who thus far, had appeared to be nothing but cruel. But the thought that kept making its way to the front of his mind demanded him to know what the future held. And he didn’t know how to answer that thought. Not even when he pulled the little box out of his pocket to look at the ring he held on to. Especially then.

One of the featured fics! Zine coming out soon! Keep your notifications on!

[augujerdeer]

🍎👠🎃🌆👂😱💬!!! Feel free to not answer any of them!

IM CRYING BECAUSE YOU ACTUALLY SENT INE THANK YOU jnsjshdjhsdjh

🍎what are yall’s favourite foods?

I think this is gonna be a long post now that I think about it, but i’m asking everyone what their favourite food would be if they could only pick one or two (not everyone answered or can but >:0)

Mine (Jamie) would be pancakes! or grilled salmon! OR SPICY TUNA SASHIMI!!!!

Kris, Chara and Matthew immediately just have chocolate as their answer dicenksfvjk but kris says “anything” and he lives up to it sometimes

Jaiden says gummy bears and gummy worms (all he eats is CANDY)

Kobe says flowers,,,,

Sal is picking between pizza and cheesecake smoothies

Peter says he doesn’t have one yet ;;

👠how difficult is it for y'all to agree on one cohesive outfit?

So this kind of depends on how many people are out, but I usually follow whoever wants to wear something if only one person is requesting something (Like when Kris would screech and ask for me/us to wear the pink hoodie or his sequins sneakers)

But if there’s multiple people, (usually Kris, Chara, or Matthew) it might take a while ksjskjskjs but generally everyone would go rock-paper-scissors or let the other person have us wear what they want! Usually because they deserve this turn or we take turns :0

🎃how many head mates could be considered scary?

HMM,,, I guess I would say Severous first. He’s a 8+ foot werewolf man, he is a BEAR

his fur is PITCH BLACK especially at night and his eyes and drool glow white (so he has no pupils, that’s his entire eyes), so if you’re in the forest in Providence in the middle of the night, you’ll just see a scary OwO face in the dark

HE DOESNT DO THE OWO FACE BUT ITS NOT LIKE I CAN COPY IT IN TEXT FORM

he always stands on two legs unless he’s SPRINTING , but honestly??? HES BABY and we all love him, Kobe calls him ��PUPPY” and even drew him a few times while fronting ;;;;;;;; He’s actually a dad to one of our littles Penny and is gay and dates someone from one of my partners’ system

Also he doesn’t speak very well? He used to speak fluently but overtime and he was recovering from being a persecutor, his ability to speak was kind of, disintegrating? So he only speaks in SUPER SHORT and almost broken english sentences. if you visit him you can catch him reading children’s books and practicing to read and speak again,,, he’s baby,,,,

Chara (from undertale) could be considered scary inspace becaus ethey can go goopy- they’re not a scary person but if they want to scare you, (especially if you don’t know who they are i mean), they will be intimidating and stuff ;; when i first met them, they did spook me, and their eyes are very bright red

Sal (from Sally Face) I guess could be considered spooky because i was drawing him in class one time (prosthetic ON of course) and my friend said he looked scary ;;;? poor sal;;; he’s not scary at all

🌆what does your headspace look like?

*clasps hands together* goodness it’s a good thing i made this map. it’s VERY OLD but it’s still the same except imagine everything is WAAAAAY more spaced Out!

honestly i need to move the teleporters and mansion higher up (and the main tree closer to them) but this is it!!!

The most common places people go to is The Mansion, The Bunker, The Farmhouse, and The Picnic Ground! People when going for walks in the forest usually stick around the Picnic Grounds-Cave Pool-Farmhouse Triangle but usually can go anywhere- the forest is SO big though (alven took me flying once and it stretches to the horizon)

The Mansion is where most of us live! Here you can find Jaiden and the kids (Kobe, Aco, and Penny– and Carla (Carla is an NPC [who is aware of the outside?] but we don’t care she is family). Alven is also here with his lab, so is Joseph and Louise!! (and their dog, Troy). On the outside, you can’t see the mansion, only two giant doors (nobody ever uses kdndckdocsl we honestly just use the teleporters to go anywhere– Also, everything you see INSIDE the meadow excluding the bunker was what our headspace FIRST looked like!!! it was the start of everything ;; Jaiden made the mansion. The mansion has two main rooms- The Main Hall, and The Tall Corridor. There’s a looooot of history here

The Farmhouse is where I (Jamie) live! But i’m not inspace a lot so it’s honestly empty until i meditate there ;;

The bunker existed and is a place some people permanently moved to because we started having some Bad Refuses To Do Good Persecutors, or just bad people. They were VERY violent so half of us went to hide- and eventually the entire system actually moved to the bunker for almost a year and a half before moving out- and then some people stayed- mainly Matthew. People who live in the bunker are Matthew, Kris, Peter, Jade, Chara, Liam, and Sal! Icari should be here somewhere but i think she’s still hiding ;;

Most of the time if we have a new person, they move to the bunker right away. There’s a teleport system almost all over the frequent spots in the headspace so they can easily leave and enter! Matthew lives one the second ground below the 1st ground below because of some bad things that happened- he never leave the bunker because being outside scares him a lot- especially with the entire headspace being a forest :( you need special access to get down there

The Picnic grounds isn’t very special to me personally but Jaiden made it so people can have picnics!! It’s honestly SUPER pretty oh goodness, and no matter what time of day (unless it’s night) the sun is always shining nicely and it’s so pretty there, and people actually go there!!

The only people that don’t go there are Joseph and Louise because we had one bad person hurt them badly in that area,

Also the Ruined City i didn’t mention because– no one goes there- but we all know it exists. Basically it’s a purely grey/monotone/greyscale land? Like the moment you enter, the world transitions to black and white (not your body but the environment) and the only things that have colour are the miss and greenery in the background (mostly grass and parks, not a lot of trees). all the buildings are collapsed or destroyed in some way- so imagine a big area with degree and rubble and standing building but there’s so many destroyed parts like one building is missing an entire second floor and another has a giant gaping hole not eh side, etc.

we also don’t go there because it’s dangerous- there are giant SPIDER robots that patrol the area- we still don’t know why, but they shook lasers! (come back to this post later because I WILL add a picture of what i’m talking about!! i just don’t have my phone on me)

ANYWAY THERES MORE BUT ITS TOO MUCH TO PUT HERE

WE ALSO HAVE ANOTHER PLANET

👂What kind of music do y'all like?

Jamie - what do you mean people have favourite music? i’m just kidding uksdeijfdkj i like indie and broadway!!! pop is pretty cool but it’s not my first choice at all ;;; rock and metal hurts my ears

Chara - they have 4 playlists on spotify! One playlist is called Soft Knives for calm music (it’s usually happy but there could be some sad ones there- but no angst songs- imagine songs you can sleep to or calm down with). Blunt Knives is for angsty or apathetic moods- and Angry Knives is for ANGRY LOUD music. The have a 4th playlist called Chara’s Classical Collection. Chara can range from Classical music to indie music death metal and rock. They usually hate pop

Kris - he loves rap and r&b! though he loves a lot of music besides those! He loves tally hall and kid bloom :0 mostly chill or music that makes you go aW YEAH (his words) he also has Classic Songs in his playlist. So if you have it one shuffle, you’re listening to some sick bops and then all of a sudden Rockefeller Street Nightcore comes on and you get whiplash. doesn’t like metal or rock. He has a second playlist called “it’s Saturday Morning” for stuff like heo soul or “music you can dissociate to but not in a bad way” (Listen to Sugarcoat by Kid Bloom or Different State of Mind (some artist) for a general idea)

Matthew - rock and stuff similar to chemical romance and panic! at the disco. they like metal and rock but he says Sal’s and Chara’s are too aggressive for his taste- and hen you find out he sometimes listens to screamo

Sal - honestly i find his playlist super weird ? Some music sounds weird to me but otherwise his playlist is full over a lot of genres ! It’s kind of wack and funky- not the genre- but the amount of variety he has. And in his 2nd playlist is death/metal and rock- a bunch of loud music that can be fast sometimes too- is not afraid to head bang in public and do air guitar

Peter - We’re not sure yet but he likes music from his time- plus old music- specifically New Wave for now!his playlist is super new and he hasn’t been here a while so we’re not sure o>o

Jade - Soft calm or upbeat and happy music

Kobe and Aco - they are babies- Kobe still sings the ABC’s everyday so

😱do your headmates have any phobias?

i don’t think any of us has phobias- because it’s defined as “irrational fear” actually wikipedia says it can be CAUSED so nevermind dkjjkfd

Honestly these feel like triggers more than phobias butnit first thendescription of a phobia so;; i’m putting POSSIBLE because we’re not sure

Chara - Possible Nyctophobia (fear of the dark, but specifically extreme pitch blackness for Chara), Possible Ecclesiophobia (fear of the church -either building or what it represents])

Matthew - Agoraphobia most probably (fear of going outdoors/leaving the house, some say wide open spaces)

Sal - somewhat Cynophobia but wants to overcome it (fear of dogs) ((likes dogs but is afraid of them honestly))

Kris - Monophobia/Autophobia (Fear of isolation and abandonment) ((this is a big one))

That’s all i can think of for now

💬free space! one cool fact!

uuHHH,,,,,, i can’t think of any, but i know one thing: i love our system and i can see everyone’s trying really hard to take care of each other or are doing a lot to process their own memories and feelings ;;;

[thewritingstar]

98 that’s a lot of questions I wonder if you could answer them all 🤔🙃

*Deep sigh and putting my hands together* BOI IF YOU DON’T THINK I CAN ANSWER ALL THESE BITCHES!! YOU COME INTO MY ASK BOX AND TELL ME “i WONDER” HOE DON’T WONDER ANYMORE. 

don’t come for me like this anon.....here ya go. 

smh

i answered all of these and it took forever so yall better read this shit

enjoy bitch

--

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

-Mugs

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

-both im a sugar addict

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

-bubblegum

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

-prob either really quiet or really loud

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

-I hate soda

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

-I really like pastel and goth styles

7. earbuds or headphones?

-earbuds

8. movies or tv shows?

-Both

9. favorite smell in the summer?

-Vanilla

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

-Flag Football (stealing the flags) and badminton

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

-dont really eat in the mornings but prob granola bar or left overs

12. name of your favorite playlist?

-Shower lol

13. lanyard or key ring?

-lanyard

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

-Sour gummi worms..that shit is CRACK

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

-Great Gatsby

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

-apple sauce or on one leg

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

-all black converse

18. ideal weather?

-warm and sunny

19. sleeping position?

-stomach, side, in a ball

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

-Laptop or phone

21. obsession from childhood?

-My little pony, littlest pet shop, Disney, elephants, Chinese food

22. role model?

-Tara Strong, Walt Disney, Francis Dominic 

23. strange habits?

-tugging my hair, biting my nails, wiggling on my heels like a penguin and going up stairs on all fours (when im home)

24. favorite crystal?

-answered

25. first song you remember hearing?

-American idiot- Green Day

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

-Eat 

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

-Eat

28. five songs to describe you?

-idk Cartoon theme songs lol

29. best way to bond with you?

-make me laugh or talk about disney

30. places that you find sacred?

-Flower gardens

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

-anything with my high heel boots

32. top five favorite vines?

-Road Work Ahead, Oh my god he on X Game mode, What the Fuck Richard, This house is fucking nightmare!, Happy one year babe! Im 27. 

33. most used phrase in your phone?

-YEET, Yall and bitch

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

-Stanley Steamer, The First5California.com song 

35. average time you fall asleep?

-now its 12 am -1 am... use to be like 10pm

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

-oh god that was so long ago i dont even know but it was one of the first ones like pepe or some some

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

-suitcase

38. lemonade or tea?

-raspberry ice tea

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

-dont like lemon in my desserts 

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

-A condom was thrown on my desk in french class (it was unopened thank god)

41. last person you texted?

-my mom

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

-Jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

-HOODIE

44. favorite scent for soap?

-Vanilla or tropical

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

-Superhero

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

-Big shirt and no shorts (underwear obvi)

47. favorite type of cheese?

-I fucking hate cheese

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

-Strawberry or Lemon

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

-Its always fun to do the impossible- Walt Disney

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

-For my birthday my friend got my a “Sorry for your loss” card and i cried for 30 mins

51. current stresses?

-um everything..college and being the only snacc in my household

52. favorite font?

-comic sans

53. what is the current state of your hands?

-Still have both of them

54. what did you learn from your first job?

-That people are assholes 

55. favorite fairy tale?

-Disneys Rapunzel 

56. favorite tradition?

- My grandma got all the grandkids pjs on Christmas eve every year and we would wear them to sleep 

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

-Anxiety, Depression (sorta), Dropping my churro on the ground at Disneyland

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

-Quick Wit, Art abilities?, Standing on my head and making weird ass noises

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

-Already answered

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

-A really cool and cute magical one!!

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

-From Once Upon A Time, honestly they ave the best quotes. “So when I win your heart, Emma- and i will win it-it will not be because of any trickery, but because you want me”- Killian orrrrrrr He smells like forest”- Regina

62. seven characters you relate to?

-Juvia (FairyTail), Star (SVTFOE), Mabel (Gravity Falls), Maybec (Kingdom Keepers, sassy and artistic), Bubbles and Blossom (PPG) and Belle (beauty and the beast)

63. five songs that would play in your club?

-Boyfriend: BTR, Dancings not a crime: Panic!, Bang bang: Jessie, Ari and Nicki, Read you, wrote you: Drag race lol and Busted from Phineas and Ferb because I can

64. favorite website from your childhood?

-Webkinz, PetPetPark (STILL SALTY ABOUT IT) Club Penguin, Build a bear, Poptropica, i played every game yall

65. any permanent scars?

-only emotionally 

66. favorite flower(s)?

-Roses and water lilies..and every flower cause they pretty.. oh Dahlias too

67. good luck charms?

-petting my dogs. 

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

-Mango anything or Cherry. I hate cherry flavoring. 

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

-I have a great memory so i usually remember how i learned it, but.. Did you know that the water on the Jungle Cruise in Disneyland is 3 feet deep and dyed brown? Plus the water in all the parks is a special mix that doesn't contain chlorine because alot of people are allergic so its safe to touch? (learn from a disney doc)

70. left or right handed?

-right

71. least favorite pattern?

-those ugly ones on leggings.

72. worst subject?

-Math or english (haha and i like to write)

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

-Grapes and teriyaki sauce. if they on the plate. ill just dip them in. I have an addiction to teriyaki sauce. 

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

-I dont take any unless I have my period and my cramps are usually at a 10 so i try and take it when they at a 5

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

-when i was young 

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

-I LOVE potatos: Fries and mash are best plus baked. I HATE chips thou

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

-Any bright flower or ivy

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

-coffee, dont like sushi

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

-AHHHH my license is soooooo bad. I had strips of red in my hair (got it when i was 15-16) and i didnt know they took your pic at your permit test. Its awful. School is def better and my senior photo pops. 

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

-Jewel

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

-Fireflys (arent they the same?)

82. pc or console?

-Console 

83. writing or drawing?

-Both but im better at writing

84. podcasts or talk radio?

-Podcasts but I dont listen to alot. 

84. barbie or polly pocket?

-I played more with Littlest Pet Shop and My Little Pony lol (i have 400) prob Barbie thou

85. fairy tales or mythology?

-oooooooofffff cant decide

86. cookies or cupcakes?

-oooooff i love both but cupcakes

87. your greatest fear?

-wasting my life away.....or heights...certain bugs

88. your greatest wish?

-to be happy and have all my dreams (life, job, romance,etc) happen. Plus going to every Disney Park in the world.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

-Depends on the situation but sometimes you need to take care of yourself before others. If you arent doing good, how the hell you suppose to take care of others. 

90. luckiest mistake?

-hmmm idk being born

91. boxes or bags?

-depends on what im carrying but prob bags

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

-I love fairy lights

93. nicknames?

-any mispronunciation of my name, Dean, Big D (yes people call me this), Star, Sassafras and some more that yall dont get to know :) You can give me a nickname if ya want

94. favorite season?

-Spring and Summer

95. favorite app on your phone?

-Tumblr, Snapchat, Tsum Tsum 

96. desktop background?

- Its items from super mario and mario kart

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

- Eight

98. favorite historical era?

-oof im a history buff but I do love Greek and Roman because I love mythology...Maybe even 1800s.

hi if you got to the end of this then I love you and for proof leave me a 🐰

[sablelab]

Santa Baby - Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: This nine part story is a Sam and Caitriona fanfic. This is a complete work of fiction and as such is an entirely fabricated tale created in my imagination.  I do not know the people in my story, nor do I proclaim to know anything about them whatsoever about their status or their life in general.  This is a complete fantasy story concocted from the Christmas song “Santa Baby” which was used as a prompt for my writing.

SYNOPSIS : Sam returns home after a whirlwind Outlander promotional tour to Australia and Japan and catches Caitriona singing in the shower.  She has visions of Sam dressing up as her “Santa Baby” for Christmas and everything that that might entail.   Based on the Christmas song “Santa Baby.” ENJOY!!!

Chapter 1  /  Chapter 2  /  Chapter 3 (S)  /  Chapter 4 (S)  /  

Chapter 5 (NSFW)   /  Chapter 6 (S)  /  Chapter 7 (S)

THANK YOU for reading my Christmas tale of the Heughan family. Please ENJOY the next chapter.

  CHAPTER 8

 12 months later…

A lot had happened in the Heughan household over the past year.  Not only had they settled down in their home in the highlands but they had finished the fourth year of Outlander set on Fraser’s Ridge. In many ways the story paralleled their own. They had been so happy in their home and now that they had their baby daughter life was blissful. Their little ray of sunshine, Isla Claire Heughan was born after a trouble free pregnancy for Caitriona. The birth of their child was the most wonderful thing that had happened to them. They both felt so much overwhelming love for this child conceived in love that they were over the moon that their baby was a girl. She had the most beautiful little chubby face and her hair was a gorgeous auburn colour. There were so many, many parallels in their life to the characters that they were playing in Outlander that it was only right that her middle name be Claire after Caitriona’s alter ego. 

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Wrapped up snugly in a woollen blanket Sam sat by the fire nursing his baby girl in his arms while Eddie rested on the couch purring happily in the warmth from the flames that created a cozy atmosphere in the lounge room. Caitriona was upstairs having some much needed rest and he was doing the night feed for their adorable offspring. Baby Isla had finished her bath and bottle and was now drunk on the taste of her mother’s breast milk. She had a euphoric look on her face that always made Sam smile … she was milk punch drunk.  Her little pudgy face contorted in a blissful milk stupor feeling as she nestled happily in her father’s arms.

Sam loved these bonding times with his daughter so much and relished the chance to talk to his baby girl and kiss her chubby cheeks, to hug her and gently squeeze their little one in his powerful arms. She was the most precious person in his life next to her stunning mother and the love he had for her knew no bounds.

Isla Heughan cooed happily as her father lovingly rubbed her sweet baby cheeks.  At a couple of months old she was just at that stage where she was observant of whom her parents were as she smiled at the man who held her so tenderly. Her little legs pushed against his chest as she rested in his arms gurgling and babbling happily on her full tummy.  Several little bubbles formed on her rosebud lips as she looked lovingly into her father’s mesmerizing eyes while he held her hand and softly spoke to her. She knew her daddy’s voice and her eyes fixated on his face as he spoke to her. She seemed captivated by Sam’s facial expressions while unconsciously learning about emotions and communication with those who loved her. Her father’s voice was soothing but when he blew raspberries on her tummy it made her giggle out loud and Sam laughed when he saw Isla’s adorable gummy grin bow her lips.

“I love you baby girl … so much that my heart swells. I will never let anyone hurt you or make you sad. Your daddy will protect you from all harm and make sure that no one makes you cry. We will go Munro climbing together and mamma can come too and we will show you the world. Your mummy and I love you to the moon and back and then into the universe and beyond.”

Sam tenderly placed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead then picked up the photo album that was lying on his lap to show her pictures taken since she had been born.  Nestling baby Isla so that she could see, he opened up the first page where there were several pictures of their little family.

“This is you Bubba … Daddy is taking you for a walk to the park while mummy had a long, long rest. You love going to the park and seeing all the children playing. Remember when we heard that little sparrow whistling and you laughed and laughed? Oh and we also took you to the SIDS marathon. Daddy pushed your pram with lots of other mummies and daddies there too. Do you like the photo mummy took? “

He looked at his baby adoringly and continued.  “And there’s mummy watching you play with the ball Granny Chrissie gave you and there you are in mummy’s arms. That was soon after you were born. You were the cutest little baby in the hospital… but I’m not biased one little bit … no I’m not.”

Sam dotingly stroked Isla’s chubby little cheek and she in turn answered with a smile that melted his heart all over again.

Turning the page over in the photo album once more he showed Isla photos taken in her Christmas hat and the family photos taken when they took her to meet Santa for the first time.

“Look at you Bubba.  So cute in the little red hat Granda Balfe got for you to wear at Christmas.  We couldn’t wait to see you in it.  Look how pretty you are.  Mummy is wearing a hat and so am I too. That was when we went to see Santa. You were such a good girl, you didn’t even cry.”

Sam held her sleepy eyes with his and showed her another photo. 

“Mummy bought you that Santa Baby T-shirt. She saw it on line and had to get it for you.  Don’t let your mother get you interested in the internet Isla. She spends all her money on line. Naughty mummy, but it has a special meaning for your mumma and me you see.  I knew you would look adorable in it and you are our special little Santa baby, because we love you so, so much. That is Eddie and Lion too. You love little Tiger the lion, he’s very special just like you are Bubba. He’ll keep all of those nasty monsters under your bed away from scaring you.”

Closing the album, Sam tenderly kissed his baby daughter on the cheek but her little eyes had closed and her cupid bowed mouth was smiling as she slept. Leaning down he inhaled the special smell that little babies had and his heart filled with immense unconditional love for their precious little angel.

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

Caitriona had been blissfully observing her husband for a little while conversing with their baby daughter. Very quietly she approached where he was sitting on the couch and gently rested her hands on his shoulders kissing her love on the top of his head. 

“What are you doing honey?” she asked.

Sam looked up and saw that Cait was standing behind him in her night robe. He was surprised to see her but since having risen from their bed it was only natural that she had come downstairs to join him and baby Isla. 

“I’m talking to our baby girl darling and showing her the family album.”

Peering over his shoulder at their beautiful daughter she asked, “Did she like the pictures in the album?”

“Aye she did Cait. Isla remembers all of those being taken.”

“How do you know that Sam?”

“She was smiling and cooing and talking to me … that’s how I know.”

“Talking was she? And did she answer you?”

“Of course. She is quite fluent already in baby talk. ”

“Well that makes sense to me hon.”

Her husband was too adorable for words. He was besotted with their baby girl and she smiled at the answers he gave. Caitriona knew that Sam would be a wonderful, hands on father and having watched their interaction she was proven right. He was a fierce Papa Bear and their child meant everything to him. It was also evident that their precious baby was indeed a clever little possum. Cait kissed her husband, then their sleepy daughter in his arms before asking tongue in cheek.

“Does she have a dodgy accent?”

Sam laughed hearing this question on her lips. “Ah, yes. I remember saying that. Her accent is just right … isn’t it Bubba?” he cooed looking into his child’s innocent little face as she slept soundly in his arms   “She can speak Gaelic already and her Scottish accent with a touch of Irish is magnificent. She is the cleverest baby that ever was born.”

“Oh honey … I love you … so much. I totally agree. Our daughter is adorable. Anyone can see that.”

A proud father smiled at Isla and caressed her cheek gently with the pads of his fingers, “We’re not in any way biased are we Cait?”

“No Sam … not at all.  We are no different from any other first time parents; we are enamoured with our child. She is perfect in every way. She is the best of you and the best of me. We created the most perfect human being and we love her with all our hearts.”

“I just told her that babe … I told her how we would protect her, care for her and love her in all the ways that matter.“

Caitriona leaned forward wrapping her arms around her husband’s head and leaning over his shoulder looked at their baby snuggled in her father’s arms. Kissing the side of his cheek, Cait’s next question had a touch of mirth in it. 

“And did you tell her she would go Munro bagging with you.”

“Ahhh … I may have said something along those lines,” he replied a little sheepishly.

“Sam honey, you are incorrigible. I don’t think you will be able to climb those seven mountains in a weekend like you used to with little Isla and return Sunday night … no way will that be possible.”

“There’s no reason why we can’t all go Cait. There are special baby harnesses for climbing and we can do little mountains together.  The fresh air will be good for her.”

“Oh Sam… I do love you. Never change. If you want to go MIA for a weekend Munro climbing, then I will be left holding the baby … but I don’t mind really.“

"I won’t.”

“So are you saying that you are going to be the good cop to my bad cop?”

“You’re a wonderful disciplinarian Caitriona … you know I’m a softie. Isla will be able to wrap me around her little finger, just like she already has her tiny hand wrapped around my heart.”

“Oh, the power of tiny, baby girls over their daddies!”

Sam pulled Cait’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, “Yep … I’m a sucker for this little girl who looks just like her beautiful mother.”

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

Isla was the cutest, most adorable little cherub and the most placid baby ever to be born. Sam was not stating anything that was not true but she was the most stunning baby there ever was. No bias on his behalf … everyone said so and her mother was the most wonderful mother that she was always meant to be.  He adored Caitriona so much and every time he looked at Isla he saw only a miniature version of her mother. Cait had taken to motherhood like a duck to water like it was second nature to her. His wife was a natural. Having friends with babies the same age they would exchange dialogue about their offspring and the conversations between Laura and Cait were interesting to say the least and Ron had needed to set up a small crèche on set as Cait was still breast feeding and nurturing with their child. He loved watching her feed their baby. It was the most natural and wonderful thing to behold. At times he was a bit jealous of their connection but if Cait expressed her milk he was able to do the night feed and bath and those times were magical and were special bonding times with her daddy.

They had chosen the name Isla because they had found peace and seclusion on the Isle of Islay when they attended the Laphroaig 200 year’s celebrations last year. Their magical night on the island had resonated and the fact that Cait had gone incognito and they managed to have the most wonderful time there, it seemed a beautiful name for their child. They had returned there many times since those celebrations and Caitriona was convinced that Isla was conceived the last time they were there for the weekend and who could argue with their other half. Certainly not he. If Cait said that was where it happened then that is where it happened.

Their last night on Islay had been magical that’s for sure and as he held their daughter on his lap Sam couldn’t help but reflect on Caitriona musings as to Isla’s conception.

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

"Penny for your thoughts honey?”

“I was just thinking how wonderful last Christmas was finding out that you were expecting our baby. Caitriona my heart swelled with a joy I couldn’t describe. The feeling was an all encompassing happiness and I was totally in love with this little bean the very moment you said the words.”

“I know Sam, I just couldn’t wait to tell you but I couldn’t over the phone when you were in Australia, I needed to see your reaction. I was so overjoyed and happy it was hard to hold it in. We certainly made everyone happy on Christmas Day with our news.”

“Aye that we did and now we have our gorgeous little cherub.  It is going to be a wonderful first Christmas this year.”

“Why don’t you put Isla back down in her crib honey?  I’ll be up in a moment. I’ll tidy up here first and then join you.”

Okay,” he smiled back placing a kiss to her lips.  It’s been a long day and Isla threw up on me so I need to wash off the baby vomit smell before I join you in bed.”

“Have a quick shower then, that should do the trick.”

Sam leaned into her space capturing Caitriona’s chin in his palm and staring into her eyes softly stroked his wife’s face with the backs of his fingers, “I think I will. Don’t be too long honey … you still need to rest.”

Cupping her hand over her husband’s and pressing it firmly to her face, Cait replied, “No … No you go on up. I’ll be there shortly.”

Sam’s eyebrow lifted as he gave his wife a little teasing smirk, “I’ll be … in the shower then, after I put Isla down.”

His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, unashamedly communicating that he didn’t expect to be alone for long. “You’ll know where I am if you decide to join me.”

He rose from the couch with their baby daughter cradled gently in his arms and made his way towards the staircase.  As he neared the stairs, Sam looked up and saw the mistletoe and signs that Caitriona had promised to put up this year. He smiled knowing what happened every time they were near those signs. 

“Cait … I’m under those mistletoe signs. Come over here and I’ll give you a wee kiss.”

“You know it won’t be a wee kiss Sam. It never is.”

“Yes it will … I’m holding Isla, what mischief could I possibly get up to?”

“Hmmm? … A lot.”

“Come over here then darling and we’ll put that to the test … or are you too chicken Balfe?”

“Never let it be said that I ignored a challenge Heughan,” Caitriona replied walking over to where her husband stood grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Their lips gently met and Cait felt her knees begin to buckle as Sam systematically deepened the kiss. Her response was to automatically wrap her arms around her husband’s waist as they kissed passionately while both cocooning their child in an embrace close to their hearts.

A little breathless, when they severed the kiss, Caitriona rested her forehead on Sam’s as she gazed into his sparkling eyes. “See … I knew that would happen.”

“Bite me then … I confess, I’m a liar.”

“I just might do that …”

Sam merely smiled enigmatically as he broke away and reluctantly headed towards the stairs. “I’ll be eagerly waiting for that payback. Don’t be too long, honey,” he called to his love as he retreated up the stairs with a sleeping baby daughter in his arms.

“I won’t. That’s a promise.”

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

A little flustered Caitriona sat back down on the couch and waited a short while until she could hear sounds coming from their bathroom. The noise of an electric shaver echoed down the stairs and then she heard the sound of running water from the shower. The next sound she heard was Sam singing off tune to Michael Buble’s version of Santa Baby.  This made her chuckle as she thought of what had happened last year round about the same time, when Sam had come home and found her singing that very same song.

Santa baby, slip a Rolex under the tree For me I’ve been an awful good guy Santa buddy, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Knowing she had a small window of opportunity, Cait got up from the couch and hurriedly went up after him her eyes luminous with mischievous intent and biting her bottom lip in excitement.  She had planned to do something special for her husband to remember what had happened last Christmas Eve when Sam had pretended to be Santa Baby and she’d bought the CD for him as an early Christmas present.  He’d laughed when he saw what the song was that she had given him, but there was also an underlying eroticism in the eyes that were remembering what had occurred last year.  She had waited her moment over the past few days and given that it was Christmas Eve, it was her turn to turn the tables on her husband. The fact that Sam was singing the same song made Caitriona think he knew exactly what her motives were and was indulging her fantasies once more.

Having finished his quick shower, Sam was whistling along to the words of the song.  Steam had, as usual, fogged up the bathroom somewhat and he had playfully written his and Cait’s initials in a heart shape on to the mirror as he took another towel to dry his wet hair.

Santa buddy, a sixty five convertible too Steel blue I’ll wait up for you, dude Santa buddy, and hurry down the chimney tonight

On entering the bathroom Caitriona saw Sam wrapped in a large bath towel tucked into his waist that clung to his hips.  The sight of him left her quite breathless and transfixed to the spot where she stood. Her man was gloriously half naked standing there in his towel. The room was steamy but the sight of her husband draped in the towel with his dampened hair in riotous curls had her all in a tizz. Cait watched as some droplets of water trickled down his magnificent muscular back. She couldn’t take her eyes from watching the path of the rivulets as they disappeared into the rim of the towel caressing Sam’s hips. She watched as his back muscles flexed, and the sight of his chiselled torso and toned arms had her in a flabbergasted flummox.

Caitriona found it difficult to breathe.

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

Think of all the fun I’ve missed Think of all the hotties that I haven’t kissed Next year I could be just as good If you check off my Christmas list

Sam immediately sensed that his wife had entered the bathroom even though he had not heard Caitriona’s soft footfalls on the tiles. He knew she was there but he hadn’t bothered to look her way and had kept humming along to Michael Buble. Feeling her presence in the bathroom was good enough so he decided to clandestinely play along pretending he was oblivious to her existence.  Lifting up his arms Sam ran his hands through his damp locks trying to tame them a little, but not with much success. As he did so the muscles of his back contracted and Caitriona was mesmerised by the magnificent torso of her hot, semi naked husband.

He’d felt her gaze as surely as if his beloved had touched him with her hands.

Cait’s eyes, washed over the man she adored, taking in the sight of him possessively. Trembling, she inched forward until she was practically standing behind her husband, then reaching out her hand she lazily traced her fingertips down his spine. She felt the ripples of his muscles contracting in reaction to her touch and she was thrilled knowing that this small gesture always caused the same effect. 

“What took you so long honey?”  Sam inquired huskily as ever so slowly; he turned around piercing his wife’s gaze with a look that had her nearly expiring on the spot.

Capturing Caitriona’s hand, he placed it to his chest right over his heart.  As he did so Sam was gobsmacked at the vision that was standing in front of him. His eyes roamed over her from head to toe for his beautiful wife was dressed in her Christmas version of Mrs Claus. She looked smoking hot with a shimmering body suit corset that clung to all her womanly curves and laced all the way down her back, just begging to be taken off slowly and meticulously. The Santa hat atop her head was the piece de resistance. His Cait looked sultry, sexy as hell and so delectable she made him salivate.

With seductive glances Caitriona’s eyes looked down and then back up to see her husband’s sparkling eyes examining her with a smirk on his lips. Sam was very pleased with himself. However, as their eyes reconnected his look suddenly changed. He captured her gaze with eyes blazing with arousal and burning desire in such a profound look that her insides melted. She could see that he was already somewhat aroused under that towel as his eyes glided over her body in her provocative outfit.

For her … time stood still with that look, and memories of last year’s Santa performance by her love suddenly came flashing back to her.  Cait wondered if she could possibly emulate his routine, for her insides were churning both with excitement and trepidation.

“I like your outfit babe … Did you have that on under your robe downstairs?”

“I did.”

“Oh, my god Caitriona!  If I had known that I would have put Isla in her downstairs bassinette and made love to you in front of the fire.”

“I was afraid of that … so…”

Sam finished her sentence, “You sent me up here to clean up knowing you intended to have your wicked way with me.”

“Well?  Maybe?”

“God I adore you woman. Come here.”

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ end Chapter 8/9 Only one more to go!!!

[mizbrianna]

A New Year's Kiss

Words: 750

Brianna and Aquaria sneak off during their own New Year's Eve party.

It's New Year's Eve, and Brianna and Aquaria are throwing a party with their closest friends. They have fun decorations and noise makers and little photo booth props and a big banner claiming that the upcoming year will be the best yet, and it's a great time. They made cute prosecco drinks and champagne gummy bears and everything is perfect.

The bubbles have gone straight to Aquaria's head and all she wants is to sneak off to the bedroom with Brianna for a quickie, but she knows Brianna takes hosting parties too seriously to abandon her guests, even in favor of sex. She sighs, lamenting her horny condition until she throws caution to the wind and sidles up to Brianna.

"Bri," she whispers, tugging the older woman's sleeve. She turns away from the conversation she's having, giving Aquaria a questioning look. Suddenly, Aquaria feels embarassed, though she's not sure why. "I, uh, would you - can we -"

"Spit it out, Aquaria," Brianna interrupts expectantly.

Aquaria's expression grows desperate and she looks at Brianna with pleading eyes. "Mommy," she begs. Brianna smiles. "I thought you'd never ask, babygirl."

It's unclear who pulls who to the bedroom, giggling like schoolgirls as they fall back onto their king sized bed together, their comforter billowing around them. Aquaria straddles Brianna, grinding down on her hips, leaning over so their lips meet in a sweet champagne kiss. Brianna groans and flips them over so she's on top, growling "trying to take my spot?" They undress each other hastily, the zipper on Aquaria's sparkly silver dress gets stuck and they slide the whole thing over her head. Panties are discarded and flung; Aquaria isn't wearing a bra and Brianna clicks her tongue in mock scolding. Her own lingerie is left on, except for her panties, and Aquaria chuckles at how her girlfriend is the only woman in the world to wear a garter belt on a regular day.  

"God, you're so beautiful, babygirl," Brianna says, holding all the power where she kneels over Aquaria. Her voice is slightly raspy and it makes the younger woman's breath quicken. Brianna shoves her knee up to Aquaria's cunt and she grinds down on it without thinking. A smile spreads across Brianna's face as she removes her knee, leaning forward to kiss the brunette again, hand moving down to rub her clit in circles. Aquaria moans into the kiss and Brianna laughs.

"Sit on my face," Aquaria breathes heavily when Brianna releases her from the kiss. "Yeah?" Brianna asks. Aquaria nods hard, grabbing at the blonde's thighs. "Wanna taste you," she whines. "You wanna eat mommy's pussy, baby? Is that what you want, kitten?" Brianna can't wipe the wolfish grin off her face as Aquaria begs to lick her cunt and chants "thank you thank you thank you" when she places her knees to either side of Aquaria's head.

"Oh princess, your mouth feels so good on me baby, you're doing so well," Brianna groans. She's talking herself off as much as she's praising Aquaria. When she cums, she rolls off with a sigh. The younger woman squeals as she's pulled back on top of Brianna and they laugh as they kiss again, Brianna tasting herself on Aquaria's lips, teeth clashing ever so slightly. Bri raises her thigh to meet Aquaria's cunt once more and Aquaria grinds against it with abandon, throwing her head back in an open mouthed silent smile or scream when she reaches her orgasm, cum sliding down Brianna's thigh. Aquaria collapses on top of her and they lay there, breathing hard. She touches a finger to the cum on Brianna's leg and brings it to the blonde's mouth, begging with her eyes until Brianna opens her mouth just enough for Aquaria to slide the finger in and for Bri to swirl her tongue around it. When Aquaria removes her finger with a soft pop she lays her head on Brianna's chest, content. Their friends begin the new years countdown from 10 and they listen quietly as the "happy new year!" shout erupts. They hear it resound from neighboring apartments and lights across the city fill their dark bedroom.

"happy new year, my love," Brianna whispers. "happy new year, Bri."

They kiss once more before Aquaria starts to get up, but Brianna grabs her wrist. "wha -" "Stay. They can trash the place for all I care. I just want you," Brianna says before pulling her back down. They laugh as Brianna swings a leg over to straddle Aquaria again.

[serpentqueenz]

As One (but out of sync) |

Bughead Drabble

Warnings: Nothing but angst and semi Dark!Juggie

Author’s Note: Just show us some sugar in the form of likes and reviews and that kinda jazz. 

The paper feels so heavy in his hands. Too heavy, in fact, for a Sunday morning. Jughead holds some kind of irony in his heart because Sunday is a day dedicated to those who worship something a little bigger than Sweetwater River. And all he has sitting in the throne of worship within himself is a whole lot of dedication to the Serpent that he wears proudly on his back. Everyone worships something around here. And often he finds himself on metaphorical hands and knees to get some sort of guidance.

Her perfect writing almost hums his name as he reads the note that she had folded and left on his dining room table. He had told her - sworn an oath of sorts - that he’d be back at the trailer by 9 the night before, but, as always, that didn’t work out. He met eleven with a fist against a jaw of a new Ghoulie that he held no love for. He met the trailer at 3, empty, no Betty in sight. “Don’t be late,” she had written on a piece of paper being the backside of a Pop’s receipt. No X’s and O’s. Just a venomous echo of her madness directed at him.

He screws up the receipt, he never did like reminders of letting down those that he loves. Why would he want to hang on to the piece of paper that practically screamed at him, “I’m starting to fucking despise you.” And that was something that he could understand wholeheartedly. He could feel it growing in him; he was starting to despise himself.

“Don’t be late,” he mimics as he slings his legs out his bed. The trailer floor is old and peeling and is too close to how he’s feeling with the weight of Southside on his soul.

His phone vibrates on the bedside table and he holds back every single ounce of him that is more focused on using the force in him in the form of his phone against the wall. Archie is the shining light. He’s Jughead’s best friend. He’s his brother. A part of his world.

He’s the reminder that everything Jughead does is just a black mark on Betty’s heavy heart. That sometimes you can’t live off love.

That sometimes love just isn’t enough. Not when you’re washing somebody’s son’s blood off your fists the next morning.

At some point, he made it to the bathroom. It still smells like vanilla and some sort of sick echo of Betty’s shampoo. He knows she must have showered waiting for him, just like how his bed still had damp pillows from her washed hair.

Or her tears; he’s not so sure at this point.

The shower hasn’t even run for ten seconds when he decides to hop in. Sometimes he feels like the cold shower is kind of like the punishment he deserves. Because at least he feels something.

The water is daggers, it’s burning fire.

It screams Betty’s name on him.

He washes off last night. The Ghoulie. The pain.

The splits on his fists that he knows Betty will cry against when he faces her again.

His phone dings again and he looks at the glowing screen on the bathroom counter.

“Please,” his phone reads. “Jug, come on. I don’t want to see Betty cry.” Archie pleads.

His sniggers to himself, “Neither do I.”

He can still hear his fist meeting the Ghoulie’s jaw. The slapping of skin against bone. In that moment, he was free. And the look of all the Serpents around him in that moment proved that the one thing they worshiped, yeah, maybe it was him.

He tore down every fucking wall he ever built when he unleashed on that poor kid.

Sometimes, Toni’s hugs are the only ones that mean anything since Betty left.

Betty never left though. She never left his side but he felt her slipping from his wavelength.

And most of the time, Jughead feels pathetic for even asking Toni for hugs, but she had an understanding and sometimes all he needed was someone with an understanding on how hard everything fell around him. But she had Cheryl and sometimes, he felt intrusive.

Toledo and his dad are so far away when Jughead feels like there’s nothing left in Riverdale for him. But Sweet Pea would tell him he’s being stupid, and he doesn’t even want to imagine the look on Fangs’ face if he told them he was leaving. But he knows they’re not the reason why he stays. He clings on to anything that still has Betty’s aura in it, and unfortunately, that was Riverdale.

“You seem a little…” Toni starts. Jughead can hear her mind ticking with what to say next, he lies with his head in her lap and smiles to himself. He feels a little free here in her room.

“What?” he asks as he listens to Sloth scream on The Goonies - Toni’s favourite, not his.

“You seem a little better,” she says with a shrug. “It’s good, I’m liking this new and improved Jughead.”

Jughead closes his eyes while he listens to the TV, Toni chewing obnoxiously on gummy bears. “New and improved?” he asks.

“Well, yeah?” she agrees. “You don’t think so?”  

He waits a moment, wondering if she would add anything. “I’m trying,” he tells her.

“To what?”

“Change for the better, improve my soul.”

Toni giggles. “Soul?” she laughs. “What soul?”

She carries on with the movie, but Jughead can’t seem to get back in. Soul? What soul? He repeats over and over. What soul? I don’t have one… he thinks. No one thinks I have one.

He knows why he’s feeling better.

Betty was letting him back in.

Even the thought of her talking to him made everything have a little more sense.

He would count down the hours until she would let him on her frequency again.

Southside wasn’t supposed to be like this anymore. Whatever family dynamic they had tried to create left as quickly as it came. Jughead knew he was their King but it wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. He was in control of something that sunk venom into everything he touched. And everything he touched seemed to wilt and wither a little more. It was hard to hold pride for something that was as toxic and draining as their leader. The darkness that clung onto Jughead so tightly with it’s fangs and pointed tails seeps into the very gang that he was leading and he wasn’t blinded to the fact that they were bad people.

Betty was sugary sweet and that was something that he would forever taste on the back of his tongue. How could the entirety of Riverdale’s being be so dull and dark when the likes of Betty Cooper ran through its waterways. She’s pastel pink in his memory. That’s all he seems to have these days. Memories.

The old Mustang he drives - a gift from Sweetpea - pulls up to Fred Andrew’s place and shuts down with a roar. Curtains fly open. Jughead wants to kick into reverse and get the fuck out. Something he’s too scared to do, not because of the disappointment that Archie is going to throw hard at him. There’s a chance that Fred would be there, and that’s a kind of disappointment he cannot face.

Archie’s bedroom window flies open on the side of the house, “Wrong house, Jug!” he yells out. “Go and see Betty!”

Jughead rolls his eyes to himself and quickly runs to Archie’s front door, letting himself inside and shrugging Southside off his shoulders and onto the floor. Taking his first proper breath in a length of time that he doesn’t care to acknowledge. In here, he’s just Jughead and most of the time he can’t see past sixteen and sharing the room with Archie.

It’s the look in Archie’s eyes when he gets to the room that makes Jughead want to turn away. Lectures don’t seem to sink in even though he knows what needs to be done.

Cut ties. Let loose. Get out of Southside.

“Betty turned up at Veronica’s last night, because, well, I guess you already know why.”

Archie’s hands tense and Jughead notices the uneasiness in Archie between trying to look in his eyes and trying to not hurt Jughead in the process.

Jughead falls on Archie’s bed and holds his face in his hands, inhaling deeply. Trying to shake guilt off in the process. “I was out late, Arch, I was tied up -”

“You said you’d stop this shit, Jug. It’s hurting Betty. You’re always coming home beaten up. I don’t even know what kind of shit the Serpents are into now. You’re in way too deep bro and look at you!” Archie almost yells. “You’re scratched up, your eyes are black! One day you might not even come home!”

Jughead blurs out the rest, staring at the mismatched pillows laying in the floor in front of him. Buzzing out the lecture. Keeping pastel pink in his mind. Archie’s arms fly in the air, his voice cracks at least three times. The room seems a hell of a lot smaller than it did when they were 16, now that they are 18. “Archie…” he says quietly.

“No, you’ve got to hear it! This is not you, Jug. This isn’t the real you. You’re more than this shit! I don’t know what the hell you got up to last night! Betty was worried sick and i’m sick and tired of trying to tell her that you’ll be okay when you wont!”

Jughead’s heart takes a beating when it starts to skip beats. Betty was the harmony in his fucked up world. The staggered breaths of air that are knocked out of him when he’s fighting. The reason why he wakes up. His knuckles crack inside his skin as Archie continues. He forgets all together how to breathe when he hears Betty’s name on Archie’s lips for the tenth time in a row.

Archie pauses when he notices tears on Jughead’s cheeks. Jughead doesn’t wipe them away but his best friend reaches out for him before pulling back again. Maybe he’s scared of me, he thinks. “I can’t find an escape,” he mutters under his breath, cracking his bloodied knuckles against his leg, faking a small smile for his best friend. “I can’t fucking cut loose. The more I move, the tighter the noose gets, Arch.”

“You need to find a way -” Archie is cut off by Jughead’s low laugh.

“Every time I find a way, I get pulled back,” he murmurs, heart racing too fast. Blood pumping too slowly in his hands.

Archie isn’t sold. Jughead can tell by the way he paces his own room and refuses to look at Jughead. “You shouldn’t have to find a way. It should just be Betty.”

Jughead stops listening when vanilla envelopes him.

All he wanted was a moment with his best friend. Someone who knew the real him.

All he got in return was too many home truths and a reminder that people miss the Jughead who didn’t come with poison attached to his very being.

He has a panic pulsing through him. It’s that so-fucked-up high that’s worse than anything else he’s ever tried. The metallic smell that’s hanging in the air that follows him and the dried up cracking of someone else’s blood on his hands creates the beating in his chest that’s splitting ribs. His breaths are short and shallow. The sound of pounding flesh and his knuckles pushing back is all he can hear right now.

The panic never stops. Two blunts later and a twenty minute lay down only increased his paranoia. Drop offs don’t get any easier. Not when the reason why Betty left his side was because she couldn’t handle any more of Southside. Not when he couldn’t tell the difference between his blood and the blood of the Ghoulie he beat up.

Not when his heart was beating so hard, it was coming out of his chest.

Inhale, exhale. It was his mantra. The guilt in his mind was a cruel reminder that that soul he was searching for, maybe he found it.

He sniggers to himself. I always feel like shit, he reminds himself.

Jughead hears a constant, static buzz in his ears. The ringing doesn’t stop and he doesn’t know if it was from the sheer amount of hits he took or a desperation in his soul to find Betty.

It’s almost as though he could smell the vanilla from down the street, or maybe it was just something that his mind was telling him he needed but the walk up to her room was fast when the floor seemed to move with him.

Her room was dark and carried an air of emptiness in it. Most of her things stil sat in the trailer though it had been weeks since she had really stayed. Her room here, at her mom’s, didn’t really feel like hers anymore. Home to her now, in Jughead’s eyes, was with him in the trailer. But it didn’t feel like home enough for her to come back.

The drawers seemed empty, the dresser bare, but the shape of Betty’s body called to from under the blankets and he could see she was sleeping peacefully. He wants to run.

He wants to stay with her.

His pulse slows though, his blood feels thicker in his veins and a pulse of relief echoes through when he realises his blunt was kicking in. “Juggie?” a voice that seems so smooth and silky, it was like instant ease.

Betty.

His body betrays him. Betty in his zone right now just made him feel a little right. It’s that familiarity he’s searching for, something she’s been giving him a lot more of and he’s grateful for it. Archie might hold a hate for him, his dad might be in Toledo when he needs him most but the universe can’t take all of Riverdale, no matter how hard it’s trying to strip Jughead bare.

He’s bare feet on silk sheets when he climbs in next to her. Breathing pauses again when  he’s trying to steady his soul. Steady soul, all wrapped up in the body next to him.

He wraps arms around her and dots kisses on her neck and drowns a little, letting it take him deeper into the water that she gives him. Ease.

Ease.

Easier than breathing.

She doesn’t ease up, though. He feels the shift in her body that replicates the stiffness in his own being. He made her this way. Tough. Concrete. She was right at the bottom and he knows it.

“Jughead?” she whispers, half asleep and slightly erratic. Finally she gives up, in his arms, and moves closer to him. “I was so worried.”

The words ring in his ears and replace the static in his mind. For the first time in a long time, he hears clearly.

“Betty,” he mumbles. “I came back for you.”

She smiles gently against his lips. If he could pinpoint every emotion in that one kiss, he would first read sadness. It lingers on him, in his skin, his hair. He feels it emitting from her. The sadness that he brings.

The sadness lingers above them, sitting in the room as they lay on the bed, “I wish you would stay with me,” she tells him. “Don’t go.”

“I want to stay, Betty, trust me,” he tells her. “I want to be locked up here with you.”

She sighs against his collarbone and it chills him to the core. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

He smiles to himself, eating up the sadness, drowning the madness in Sweetwater River. She never did want to talk about it, but neither did he. If he could keep it buried forever, then he’d leave it there. “I don’t want to either.”

“Then stay with me,” she begs with closed eyes, “For once let’s not let Southside come between us. Just you and I, Jug. Like we’re kids again.”

“Like we’re kids again,” he repeats against her soft hair. “Got it.”

She breathes in his air. She breathes life back into him, washing away guilt, taking in his pain. Making him feel human again. “I love you Jug. No matter what. No matter how fucking hard.”

He struggles to repeat the words when his bones feel like they’re snapping, cartilage spreading through his hands. His mind isn’t his when Betty Cooper is around. “I’m sorry I do this to you, baby.”

“I know.”

The silence seems louder when it’s just them two in the room. The silence is a welcomed change. Jughead knows that silence in the world of the Serpents is like a spreading disease that holds no peace in it. “You’re too good for me.”

Betty doesn’t arguing. All Jughead feels is a tightening grip on his body, as if she was trying to hold him down. Keep him with her at all times. He knows she holds a fear in her heart. “There’s no me without you though, Jug,” she whispers. “As much as you can’t find a way to get out, I can’t either.”

He feels the venom pooling again. This time is sinks deeper into the one person he loves.

He loves her deeper than deep.

He’s fucked this lifetime over deeper than deep.

She’s all glittery eyes and soft touched words when she’s in his arms and all of her promises seem to sound so pretty when it just him and her in the room. He’s almost convinced that he could be anything he wants to be when he’s laying in her silk.

“I didn’t sign up for things to be so hard, you know that right?” he asks her.

Her weak smile tells him that she knows. “When is there going to be time for me next to Southside?”

“You’re my Queen,” he promises. “There’s always time for you.”

Her laugh makes him uneasy, “it’s almost as though we can’t coexist.”

“What happened to not talking about Southside? 16 again, remember?”

Her breathing hitches. “Right.”

Jughead’s hands smooth over her hips and finally his hands feel like they’re home on her skin. “I just need to get through this part and then I’ll get out, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she says sternly.

“I promised I’d be here,” he tries. “And I’m on time.”

“Only because I had to remind you.”

It hurts him more than it should.

He tries to shift but she won’t give up his body that still has Southside sitting on his shoulders. “Where do you see us in the future?” he questions, instantly regretting it, not wanting to hear the answers for fear of hurting himself.

Betty pauses almost abruptly and again the dynamic switches. Now he’s the one drowning at the bottom. Anything for her, though.

Betty’s nails dance on the gap between Jughead’s jeans and flannel. “Life with you.”

“Are we happy?”

She smiles again. “Always.”

“Good.”

“Maybe we’re just normal Jughead and Betty again. Maybe there’s no danger. Maybe we’re just two people in love who had a past.”

“A bad past,” he corrects.

“No,” Betty shakes against the pillow. “It’s not bad. People go through things, you know.”

“People go through some shitty things.”

Betty chuckles and hits Jughead lightly on the chest. “Please keep optimistic. We’re alive aren’t we?”

Jughead’s throat starts to close in the closer he pulls Betty to him. His trachea contracts, he squeezes his eyes shut so tightly to block everything out. “I’m only ever alive when you’re with me, Betts.”

She hums softly with the same weak smile on her face. He holds her closer than close, wanting them to be the same person and believes that maybe, if they lay there long enough, everything would wash away, sinking further into the depths of Sweetwater River.

“We can get past this, right?” she says, sleep hanging onto her.

“As long as you don’t ever leave me,” he replies.

“I might just run away to California. Never come back.”

Jughead laughs as he rubs his own eyes, letting sleep take him too. “And leave me here?”

“You’d come with me of course,” Betty shrugs,

“And leave everything behind? I don’t think so!” He jokes back, earning an elbow in the ribs.

Betty’s sigh of relief runs through them both. “There’s things bigger than Southside and Riverdale out there, you know Jug?”

“I know,” he murmurs. “Things like you.”