#I want this outfit. just gotta find a turtleneck with that fit and I’ll be golden

[emry-stars-art]

(Op of the text post is no longer in the fandom/no longer wishes to be so I didn’t tag, and I’m hesitant to say to flood their notifs! Let’s be respectful but I wanted to give this its dues lol)

I literally have been thinking about this text post for a full year and it’s FINALLY TIME. Happy Halloween 🎃

[problemsandsituations]

Out

The next morning I wake up to the sound of Amina’s phone ringing. She apologizes then rolls over to answer it.

“Hey Farren! You’re right, I did forget to call you, I’m sorry. Yeah we talked, we’re fine. I’ll update you later, okay? Alright, bye.” Amina hangs up the phone and falls back onto her pillow with a sigh.

“You told Farren about yesterday?” I ask.

“Yeah. When I left I called her. She calmed me down and talked some sense into me,” she tells me. She apologizes to me again, but I don’t mind Farren knowing. She seems trustworthy.

Amina tells me that she and Farren are meeting up to hang out later. That works out perfectly since I already planned to make good on my promise to Rasul. I go back to sleep and when I wake up, Amina is gone.

I spend the rest of the morning relaxing alone in the living room. I’m still a little paranoid from last night, so I keep looking out the window to see if there are any suspicious vehicles sitting outside. I don’t see anything besides the neighbor’s cars. Around 2:00 I give Rasul a call. Instead of inviting me to his place, he asks me to meet him at the mall. Shopping with a fine man by my side? Sign me up!

Rasul and I go from store to store trying to find him an outfit for a show he has coming up. He says he’s not looking for anything fancy, but everything he picks up says otherwise. While I’m looking through the purse section just outside the fitting room, Rasul asks me to come look at his outfit.

“I really like this. I think Imma go with it,” he tells me. He spins around so I can see the entire outfit. He’s picked a pair of black slacks, a black turtleneck, a brown jacket and a black fedora. I’ve gotta give it to him, he’s got good taste in clothes. I’m staring at him so hard that I don’t even hear him asking me if I like the outfit.

“Hm? Yeah! Yeah, I like it. It looks great,” I tell him, trying to play it cool. Judging by the way he laughs at me, I know I failed. While the cashier is ringing up Rasul’s things, he walks away from the register and comes back with one of the purses I was looking at.

“You like this one?” he asks me.

“Yes, but-” Before I can say another thing, Rasul asks the cashier to add the purse to his purchase. The cashier looks at us then tells me, “you better keep him close honey”. If they only knew...

The two of us get lunch at a burger spot in the mall. While we wait for the waiter to show up, we talk for a bit.

“You know, you didn’t have to buy me that purse,” I tell Rasul.

“I know I didn’t have to; I wanted to,” he replies with a shrug. “You been dealin’ with a lot lately. You deserve it.”

“Well, thank you. That was…nice of you,” I respond with a smile. Our waiter arrives to take our drink order. I ask for a Shirley Temple; Rasul asks for a lemonade. Once the waiter leaves, we continue our conversation.

“So this is different. Being out in public together,” I tell Rasul.

“What you mean?” he asks.

“I mean, normally we’re alone and private. Hanging out with you like this is new,” I explain.

“What about the fundraiser? That was public. Everybody saw us, even your mans Jeff,” he jokingly reminds me.

“Ooh, he was so mad!” I reply with a laugh. The look on Jeff’s face when he saw me with Rasul was priceless! The waiter brings our drinks to the table then takes our food order. We talk some more while we wait for our food.

“So after this, you wanna come to my place?” Rasul asks.

“I should have known,” I respond, shaking my head.

“Wait, no, that’s not why. I wanna show you something I been workin’ on,” he explains. I would never pass on the chance to spend more time with Rasul, so I agree. We finish our meal, pay our tab, then head to his place.

Rasul takes me to a room I’ve never been to before. Inside is an entire music studio.

“You built this yourself?” I ask him.

“The whole thing,” he answers. I’m amazed at what Rasul put together. It’s impressive! He tells me to have a seat while he searches for something on his computer. I sit in an empty swivel chair and patiently wait.

“I put this song together for the show. I want you to listen to it and tell me what you think,” he explains. I’m flattered that Rasul wants me to hear his music. I listen to the whole song carefully. The beat is catchy. The lyrics talk about how he wants to stop fighting with his girl and make love instead. I wonder who he’s talking about. Probably his ex.

“I like it. It’s really nice,” I tell him once the song ends.

“Just nice?” he repeats nervously. I think he was expecting a bigger reaction out of me.

“It’s great! I really mean that. I love it and everyone else will too,” I assure him, placing my hand on his arm. We lock eyes and next thing you know, we’re locking lips. Our kissing intensifies; Rasul’s hands start to travel across my body. I pull away and tell him, “we don’t have to.”

“But do you want to?” he asks. Everything in me wants to, and he knows it. But I didn’t come here to have sex. The power of the P won’t get me today! I tell Rasul I have to get home to cook dinner. It’s a lie, but he doesn’t have to know that. I don’t need ot be out much longer anyway. There’s still someone out there watching me; I don’t want them watching Rasul too.

As I’m turning the key in my front door, I hear giggling inside. I walk in and find Amina and Farren sitting on the couch together. The giggling is coming from them.

“Hey now!” I happily greet them.

“Hey girl! I hope you don’t mind me bringing Farren over,” Amina says.

“Not at all, as long as y’all don’t throw a party,” I joke.

“Aw man, we gotta cancel the rave!” Farren jokes back. “I should be heading out anyway. Gotta rest up for tomorrow. Amina don’t you worry, everything is gonna be just fine. I’ll see y’all later.” Farren grabs her bag, gives Amina a hug then leaves.

“What’s goin’ on tomorrow?” I ask Amina. She hands me a piece of paper. It’s an eviction notice from her landlord.

“Oh my god, Mina…” I sit the letter down and give her a hug.

“I went by my apartment this mornin’ and found it on the door. I knew this might happen; I just didn’t think it would be this soon,” she sadly admits.

“Well you already know you have a home here, and you don’t have to be in a rush to leave,” I assure her. Amina thanks me and lays her head in my lap. She always does this when she’s sad or stressed. Right now she’s both.

“I only have 48 hours to get all my stuff out. Luckily Farren knows somebody who owns a storage unit. They’re gonna let me keep my stuff there for free and they’re gonna let us use one of their moving trucks,” Amina informs me. She tells me Farren convinced her brothers to do the heavy lifting.

“What can I do to help?” I ask.

“I’ll need you for moral support if nothing else,” she answers. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than by her side.

The next morning Amina and I get up early, put on some comfy clothes and leave to meet Farren at Amina’s apartment. As we pull into the complex, we see three large men standing around the moving truck with Farren. There’s no doubt these men are her brothers. All three of them look like male versions of Farren: light-skinned with brown hair. Farren is the only one with freckles. Once Amina and I approach them, Farren introduces her brothers to us. She introduces Franklin & Frederick first. They’re the oldest. They’re identical twins, but their hairstyles make it easy to tell them apart. Franklin’s hair is long & curly like Farren’s. Frederick’s hair is cut into a low fade. Ralph is introduced to us next. He’s the youngest of the bunch. He’s not as muscular as his brothers, but he could still easily intimidate the average-sized man. His long locs are pulled back into a ponytail. The gentlemen say hello to us, then we start the moving process. Between the six of us, it doesn’t take long at all. The guys carry the heavy furniture while we carry the lighter things. On my last trip to the truck, I notice my shoe is untied. I’m bent over tying my shoelace when Ralph strikes up a conversation with me.

“So are you the girl Farren’s been goin’ on & on about?” he asks, sitting next to me on the curb. He has a country accent. It’s cute.

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.

“For weeks she hasn’t shut up about Amina. How she’s so nice, so strong, so beautiful. Is that you?” he asks.

“Oh. No, I’m not Amina. I’m her best friend,” I inform him.

“Well in that case, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, pretty lady,” Ralph says with a sly smile. I have to admit, Ralph is very handsome. As far as appearance goes, he’s got everything I like. But I’m not interested. “I do wish Farren would just go ‘head and make a move already though. Maybe then she’d stop actin’ like a lil’ schoolgirl.” I ask Ralph to explain what he means by Farren “making a move” on Amina. “Farren likes women. You ain’t know that?” he asks.

“No, I had no idea,” I reply.

“Yup, and she’s got a thing for your friend,” he explains.

“Yo Ralph! Stop spittin’ game and come help us wit’ this couch mayne!” Frederick yells from the window of Amina’s apartment.

“Duty calls,” Ralph whispers to me with a wink. As soon as he jogs away, Amina finds me. She wastes no time teasing me.

“Out here tryin’ to bag you a brotha, huh?” she asks with a laugh.

“You talkin’ bout Ralph? No. He came out here talkin’ to me. He actually told me something about Farren that I think you should know,” I respond with concern.

“Lemme guess, he told you Farren’s gay,” Amina says. “For whatever reason, Ralph still thinks it’s a secret, but Farren’s been out for like, two years now.”

“Okay, but there’s something else you should know-” I begin. I’m cut off by the guys asking us to step aside so they can put the couch in the truck.

“Welp, that’s the last of it,” Franklin says, rubbing his hands together.

“Yup, we’ll just take this to the storage then bring ya the key,” Frederick adds. Farren and her brothers head to the storage space while Amina and I head to my place to get her settled in.

“You were about to tell me something back at the apartment, what was it?” Amina asks me as we walk through the door. I’m a little nervous. I don’t know how she’s gonna take this.

“Ralph told me that Farren has a...thing for you,” I tell her cautiously.

“I know,” Amina replies, plopping down on the couch. She’s not even bothered.

“And you’re okay with that?” I ask.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” she asks in return. “I know what they taught us growing up, but it’s the 21st century. To be honest, I think I might feel the same way…,” Amina admits.

“How do you know?” I ask, sitting next to her.

“I really like Farren. And it’s not just a friendly type of thing. I really like her. She makes me feel happy...and safe...and comfortable. All I wanna do is be around her, and when I’m not, all I do is think about her.”

“That’s definitely a crush,” I reply. “So what are you gonna do?”

“I think I’m gonna tell her how I feel,” Amina replies. She couldn’t have decided at a better time either; Farren and her brothers just arrived. I invite all of them in and tell them to make themselves at home. Amina takes Farren outside to talk, leaving me alone with the guys.

“Y’all want something to drink or a snack?” I ask them.

“We’re fine Miss Lady. We don’t wanna impose,” Franklin says.

“Yeah, we don’t plan on bein’ here long. We’ll be outta your hair before your man gets home,” Frederick jokes.

“Very funny,” I reply sarcastically. “This here is a bachelorette pad.”

“So you’re single? Good to know,” Ralph says, nodding his head and smiling. The twins playfully nudge their brother. They find his flirting amusing; I don’t. Amina and Farren come back inside. They’re both smiling, so I’m assuming their talk went well. Farren tells her brothers she’s ready to go. The twins give me a normal farewell, but Ralph grabs my hand, kisses it, and tells me he’ll be seeing me soon. I pull my hand away and tell him I doubt it. I’m glad he’s leaving.

[scuttling]

(You Want To) Make a Memory

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina Original Female Character Word Count: 19,858 Chapters: 5 of 5 Complete Tags: 18+, NSFW, Amnesia, Anxiety attacks, Sex dreams, Dom/sub, Daddy kink, Praise kink, Unprotected sex, Vaginal fingering, Dirty talk, Choking, Biting, Hickies, Oral sex, Making love, Angst and feels, Shower sex, Size kink Summary: Sophie gets amnesia while working a case and forgets everything from the last two years: her friends, her job at the BAU, and her boyfriend, Aaron. Note: This is a reformatted, previously published work. :)

Link to AO3 or read Chapter 1 below!

The thing Sophie finds most complicated about her work at the BAU is that it’s their job to predict the unpredictable. Yes, they are all highly educated, knowledgeable profilers, with decades of experience between them, and human behavior typically follows patterns that are easily discernible if you have the right training. But even armed with all the information, all the statistics, all the data, there’s one thing they can never really know for certain: what a desperate person will do in the heat of the moment.

The unsub they are looking for is a white male, aged 25-35, who lives alone, has a steady daylight job, drives a red pickup truck, and has a problem with older female authority figures. Sophie could go on and on about this particular type of unsub—she could tell you where he shops, how he spends his evenings, his favorite sport/team/player, probably even what he’ll eat for dinner tonight—but there’s no way she can know how he’ll react to the FBI at his door, or the consequences his actions will have.

The team is canvassing the neighborhood they believe the unsub resides in, and she and Spencer were assigned the four hundred block; they each take a separate side of the street, and work their way down house by house trying to find someone who fits the profile, or knows someone who does.

“Any luck?” Sophie asks Spencer when they meet back up at the end of the the block. He grimaces, uncertain.

“There was one guy, but…” She gestures toward the SUV and they walk toward it together.

“What happened? Profile didn’t fit?”

“He was the right demographic, the vehicle fit, but he wasn’t disorganized. In fact, his home looked like it belonged in a catalog: photos on the walls, decorative items, nothing out of place.” She frowns a little, because it’s clear this guy has raised some red flags for her partner, and she trusts his intuition when it comes to stuff like this.

“And he lives alone?” she asks, confirming. That’s a pretty big part of the profile, considering what he does to the victims. He nods.

“Yes, no indication of a girlfriend or wife living there.” Sophie blows out a breath, leans against the side of the SUV.

“Okay, let’s brainstorm. Maybe... he hires a housekeeper.” Spencer shrugs.

“He didn’t seem like the type, but I guess it’s possible.”

“Alright, well… Okay, so our profile is of a man who kills older women because he has an issue with an older woman who is an authority figure in his life. We thought maybe his boss, but what if it’s his mother?” she asks, face lighting up a little. This theory makes more sense, actually. “What if she comes over while he’s at work, cleans the place up, redecorates, just takes complete control of his life, even his private space, and he loses it?” He nods enthusiastically.

“That is extremely more likely. Now that I think of it, all the photos were of him and an older woman who could be his mother.” Sophie pulls out her phone, gestures over her shoulder with her thumb.

“Let’s head back there; Hotch and JJ are just around the corner, I’ll let them know we might need backup. 412?”

“Yeah—hey, that’s the truck. That’s the truck,” he says with more urgency, pointing down the street at a rapidly approaching red pickup truck that matches the description of the unsub’s. Shit.

“Okay, get in the car, call Hotch,” she instructs, and they both barely make it in before the truck rear-ends the SUV on the driver's side; Sophie’s head hits off the steering wheel hard, and the car rocks, and she looks over at Spencer, a little disoriented, to make sure he’s okay. He’s holding his wrist, like maybe he hurt it bracing himself.

When she gets her bearings, she starts the car, throws it into reverse, ready to apply a little force and potentially keep him from striking again, but he backs up, speeds up, and cuts the wheel to go around them, striking her door and driving past. It’s then that another SUV cuts him off, and Hotch and JJ jump out, guns drawn; the unsub raises his hands, surrenders, and it’s over as quickly as it began.

“Sophie?” She can hear her name, but her head is swimming. She touches the cut above her temple, pulls back a hand covered in blood, but she knows head injuries bleed heavily, so she’s not worried. She’s more worried that she can’t tell where that voice is coming from. It’s like she’s in a fun house, sounds echoing from all sides. “Sophie, can you hear me?” She hums in response.

Kind hands are on her face, turning it toward the sun, and she scrunches her eyes at the brightness. She knows the hands are trying to help, but her head already hurts, and the light isn’t doing her any favors.

“Gotta… get up,” she mumbles, and the hands hold her waist, help her out of the car. Her left foot hurts when she puts her weight down on it, and she almost folds, but the hands hold her up, and she thinks she smiles.

“Reid—is she okay?” That voice is a voice that makes her want to answer immediately, even if her brain hasn’t quite caught up. She stumbles over her words.

“‘M okay. Just my… head.” A different pair of hands hold her up, and her brain is working enough to recognize that she loves the smell of the person attached to the hands. They are serious hands, and one of them sweeps gently over her face.

“Can you open your eyes for me, baby, please?” that good voice asks, and she wants to do anything the voice asks, but her eyes really hurt. She must say that out loud, because the voice says softly, “That’s alright, don’t strain yourself. Medics on the way. You’re going to be fine.”

“Tell him…” She is placed back in the car, can feel the softness of the seat against her back, and it’s nice. “Tell him that was mean… and not to do it again.” She feels lips on her face, turns toward them, sighs when they brush over hers. “Mmm. Or I’m going to… tell his mother.”  When Sophie wakes up, she feels like she’s been repeatedly punched in the head, thrown down a flight of stairs, and then run over by a truck, so, naturally, she groans. She doesn’t dare open her eyes at first, can already see the fluorescents flickering through her eyelids, but her mouth is dry, and since she knows she must be in a hospital, she knows that there’s a little plastic pitcher of water somewhere within her reach.

Cautiously, she cracks one eye, finds the pitcher and a kind looking woman with fair skin and dark bangs staring back at her.

“You’re awake!” she whispers excitedly, and she leans forward for a hug, which Sophie does not return, because she doesn’t know the woman. The woman must feel the tension in Sophie’s body as she sits, arms at her sides, and waits for the hug to end, because she pulls back, concerned. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she begins, unsure of how to put this politely. Her voice is dry, rough, and the woman pours her a glass of water, which she takes gratefully. “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t… Do I know you?” Her face falls, and she looks confused, and then abruptly worried.

“My name is Emily. Prentiss. Does that ring a bell?” Sophie thinks back, tries to navigate around the pounding in her temples, and ultimately shakes her head.

“No, I’m sorry. And I mean no disrespect—I meet a lot of people for work, so sometimes it’s hard to keep track.”

“Where do you work?”

“I work for the FBI. Intelligence.” Sophie takes in the woman’s outfit—black turtleneck, gray pants, boots, government issued handgun—and tilts her head curiously. “And you?”

“FBI. Behavioral Analysis Unit.” She pulls her bag closer on the seat beside her, pulls out her credentials, lets Sophie hold them. “Have you heard of it?”

“Sure, of course. I have an interview there next week, actually.” She hands back the badge with a smile. “Small world. Uh, do you think that what happened to me occurred because of a crime, or something? Is that why you’re here?"

Agent Prentiss gives her a sad smile, then stands, pulling out her cell phone. “You know, we’re really not sure what’s going on. Excuse me for one moment, I need to make a call. I’ll get your doctor while I’m out there.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Sophie calls as she heads out of the room, and she pours another glass of water.

When the agent returns with the doctor, she looks tenser, but the doctor just shoots her a kind smile. “Hello, Sophie. I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

“Thank you; I’m glad to be awake. How long have I been out?”

“About two days. You were in a car accident, do you remember that?” She’d catalogued her injuries while alone—laceration to the head, some pain and swelling there; aching wrist, sore but unbroken; bruised ankle, tender but okay to put pressure on—and they are consistent with a car accident, but she shakes her head.

“No, ma’am, I don’t remember.” The doctor frowns, an expression the agent behind her mirrors.

“What’s the last thing you do remember?”

“Um.” She closes her eyes, thinks hard for a moment, but it hurts her eyes. “I was driving home from work, I think? Or about to leave for the day. It’s kind of blurry.”

“That’s alright, don’t press too hard. It should come back to you in no time.” She steps around the bed to pull her chart off the wall, skims it briefly. “We’re going to have to run some scans; I’ll give you a moment with Agent Prentiss, and then I’ll send someone in to take you down to the lab, okay?”

“Sure. Thank you, doctor.” The woman smiles and walks out of the room, leaving her with the clearly unhappy agent. “Is everything okay, Agent Prentiss? You look about as bad as I feel.” The woman sighs, drops back down into her seat, folds her hands in her lap.

“The doctor believes you’re suffering from retrograde amnesia. You don’t remember some things you should remember. Quite a bit of time.” Her throat goes dry again, her heart beats rapidly in her chest.

“That’s not possible. I remember driving home from work… or, getting in the car to drive home from work, just the other day.” She shakes her head like she’s not sure what to say.

“I know, Sophie, but that’s not a recent memory. You don’t work at the Grant building anymore.”

“What do you mean? I’m the Intelligence liaison. I mean, I applied for the BAU job…” She’s wanted to work there since she found out about it, to put her degrees to good use; to get an interview is almost unheard of, everyone told her, but she made the cut, even bought a new suit to wear. It’s still hanging in her closet.

“And you got it,” Prentiss says gently, reaching forward to take her hand. “You and I have been working together at the BAU for almost two years.”

Sophie can’t be blamed, she doesn’t think, when she leans over, reaches for the wastebasket, and promptly vomits.  “So I’m a profiler, and I’ve been one for two years. I work with you and we’re friends,” Sophie repeats as a bit of a recap. Prentiss nods.

“Yep. Those who profile serial killers together, stick together.” She says it with a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.

“Wow. Okay. I’m really sorry I don’t remember you.” She shrugs it off, and Sophie sighs. “Any other major life events I should know about? Did I get a cat, go vegan?”

“You don’t have time for a pet, and you like cheese too much,” Prentiss jokes, but that does sound like something she’d say. Her face gets serious after that, and she even looks nervous. It makes Sophie nervous, too. “You have a boyfriend.”

That raises her eyebrows.

“I have a boyfriend.” She smiles softly, nods.

“Yes. He’s… it’s funny, because he’s actually... our boss.” Sophie blanches. Talk about a close-knit group.

“I’m sleeping with my boss? That is not like me.” She barely sleeps with anyone, too busy focusing on her career and not that into one-night-stands, but her boss of all people? That’s just plain stupid.

“It’s really not like that, trust me. You two are in love.” Okay, she’s heard enough. Maybe Prentiss is a prankster, playing some wildly hilarious joke on her amnesiac pal.

“I’m in love. Did I actually say that?” She knows herself pretty well, flaws and all, and she’s been a vehement skeptic when it comes to love for… god, as long as she can remember—no pun intended. Prentiss nods, looks very serious.

“Yes, I’ve heard you say it many, many times. You two live together.”

“We live together? For how long?” This can’t be right; one of the things she values most is her privacy, her solitude. She lives a quiet, simple life, aside from being an FBI agent, and she likes it that way.

“About six months,” she answers carefully.

“We’ve lived together for six months? How long have we been dating?” Her voice sounds a little shrill even to her own ears. Prentiss is being very cool about it all, doesn’t so much as blink.

“It’s a year next week, actually. He’s been trying to come up with a surprise for your anniversary.” Sophie feels a little lightheaded.

“Anniversary. Fuck.” She squeezes her eyes shut, which hurts, opens them only so the pain will go away. She knows they’re teary, can’t help it, but she doesn’t want Prentiss to see her like this. She hates being vulnerable, always has. “I can’t remember two years of my life. I can’t remember my own boyfriend, my own job. My friends.”

“I can tell you about them, if you want,” she offers cautiously. “The doctor said it could help, but if you feel like it’s too much, let me know.”

Sophie nods carefully. She wants to know, she needs to know.

Prentiss—Emily—is so genuinely kind. She sits there for an hour, tells Sophie about work, and their team—their friends, because the group is very tight, gets together for dinner and drinks, and they all support each other’s non-bureau endeavors, and she feels so sad that she can’t remember them, can’t recall anything Emily is rattling off so easily it’s like she doesn’t even have to think about it.

She talks about some tough cases they’ve worked on, and how they always end with a cookout or a family dinner so they can remember why they do the hard things, why they keep fighting. She talks about people they’ve helped, saved, brought comfort to. She talks about flights home on the jet, how sometimes they sit in quiet, companionable silence and other times it’s all teasing and laughter and the good things in life.

Then she starts talking about Aaron—the boss/boyfriend—and Sophie does cry, a couple of tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. She’d never imagined in her life that she would be as loved as she is, if Emily’s stories are true, and the fact that she can’t remember any of it is like a knife to the gut. She wants to scream, to make someone pay for what she’s missing, but she knows none of that will bring her memory back, so she dials back the rage as quickly as it came—huh, that’s new.

Usually, her particular brand of anxiety attack would happen right about now, always worse when she’s afraid or angry. She anticipates tightening in her chest, shortness of breath, ringing in her ears that takes forever to go away, but it doesn’t come. She’s able to calm herself with a deep breath, and despite the fact that the rest of her life is a dumpster fire right now, this feels kind of good. It feels like progress, not a story told through someone else’s eyes, but a tangible feeling she can hold onto and think, I am a different version of Sophie than I was two years ago. A better version, maybe. But at least different. That, above everything else, makes it real.

A nurse walks in to take Sophie down for scans, and Emily just smiles, a bit sadly, and tells her she’ll be there waiting when she returns.

It’s a small comfort, something she holds onto as she’s taken down to the lab. When Sophie makes it back to her room, Emily is waiting there as promised, and she has a duffle bag sitting on the bed. “The doctor says you can go home while they wait for the scans,” she says with a smile; she probably thinks it will make Sophie happy, and it does, but the idea of going to a home she’s never been to is a little unsettling. Still, it’s nice to know there are people who care about her who will help her through it, that she’s not alone. That’s not something Sophie of two years ago would have been able to count on.

She smiles back, and Emily helps her change into clothes that somehow still smell like the hospital, but it feels better to be dressed and not stuck in the flimsy hospital gown that always makes you feel weaker and sicker, more injured than you really are.

She hears a voice from out in the hall, a voice that catches her attention immediately, and she walks over to the door, peeks her head out to see if she can find the man it belongs to.

She does, and he is almost too good-looking to be real. Somehow, she both instinctively knows that this man is Aaron, and can’t see how that could possibly be true.

“Emily. Is that Aaron?” she asks to confirm, pointing to the tall, serious-looking, frankly smoldering hot man having a conversation with her doctor at the end of the hall. She peeks her head out the door too, looks toward him with a smile.

“Yeah, that’s him. Do you remember him?” Her tone is guarded but hopeful, and Sophie sighs.

Remember him, no, not in the way she means, but every cell in her body feels alive and on fire just from catching a glimpse of his face, so she’s pretty sure Emily is right and she’s crazy in love with him. And his suit. Who looks that good in a suit?

Her boyfriend, apparently. Who she lives with. Who she’s been with for a year. Her mind is still a little blown.

“I don’t recall any memories of him,” she whispers, as if he can hear her from down the hall, “but, uh. I think my body remembers him.” Emily looks at her, eyebrow quirked, and she blushes. “Or, you know. Parts of it.”

Realization dawns, and Emily grins. “Okay yeah, that tracks. You two are kind of all over each other. It’s an intense vibe.” Sophie takes a moment to imagine that, what it would be like to be in a relationship with this man.

He looks intense, which can be good or bad, with the kind of mouth you could kiss forever, smile against. He’s taller than her by about a foot, which thrills her, and broad, as evidenced by the jacket stretched across his shoulders, which really thrills her. He’s older, maybe early forties, which she doesn’t feel particularly strongly about one way or another, with gorgeous dark hair and eyes, and when he shakes hands with the doctor, silver wrist watch gleaming under the fluorescent lights, her mouth practically waters.

“Earth to Sophie. You’ve got a little drool, there,” Emily teases, pointing to her own mouth, and Sophie groans.

“You didn’t prepare me. You didn't tell me he was hot.” Aaron turns away from the doctor, starts walking down the hall toward her room, and she ducks out of the doorframe, Emily following suit. She puts a hand to her forehead, not in physical pain, but mental pain for sure. “God, this is going to be so awkward. I’ve got a total lady boner for the guy I’m in love with that I can’t even remember.”

“It might be a little awkward at first, but you guys are sweet together. He’s going to be so caring and understanding, give you all the time you need.” She puts her hands on Sophie’s arms, grounding her. “We’re going to focus on trying to get your memories back, but the doctor said you shouldn’t stress.”

“That’s easy for her to say,” she mutters, crossing her arms, “she didn’t forget her big sexy boyfriend.” She hears a soft chuckle from behind her and instantly flushes, which makes Emily grin.

“Sophie, this is Aaron.” She physically turns her, and Aaron is smiling gently, which makes him look even better than when he was serious and expressionless. Her heart thrums in her chest.

“Hi. I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I want to.” She sticks out her hand for a shake, feels dumb instantly, but he takes it anyway, holds it for a moment. His hand is rough, so much bigger than hers, and part of her hopes he never lets go.

“That’s alright. Dr. Bracken is confident you’ll recover all of your memories in time. She’s given me some instruction on ways we can try to jog your memory, but no stress, like Emily said.”

“I guess we’re not considering the fact that losing two years of your life is a little stressful,” she counters, and he laughs again.

“You haven’t lost anything. Just misplaced them for a while.” He steps toward her, like he wants to touch her, comfort her maybe, but freezes, thinks better of it. She’s torn between wanting to get to know him better first and wanting to jump into his arms immediately, so she decides to let him set the pace. “So… Do you want to come home with me?” His voice is soft, hopeful, matching his eyes. “Garcia—our friend, another coworker of ours—has offered to put you up at her place if you’re not comfortable with that, so no worries either way. You have a place to go.”

Her stomach sinks a little at the thought of being anywhere but home, even though she has no idea where that is, and she looks back at Emily, who smiles encouragingly.

“I think I want to go home,” she decides after a moment, and she turns back to look at Aaron. “Is that okay with you?” He nods seriously.

“Yes, of course. I want you home with me. I just wanted you to know you had other options.” Emily slips past her, a hand on her elbow, and finishes gathering up her belongings while they talk. “The rest of the team is going to come over for a little bit, if you’re okay with that. The doctor said it would be a good idea, since you spend most of your time with them, but if at any point it gets overwhelming, let me know. No hard feelings if we send everyone home.”

“Okay,” she breathes, her head already swimming a bit just from talking to Aaron, and he does step forward, then, giving her her space but indicating that he wants to come closer, if she’ll let him.

“May I put this on you?” he murmurs, and opens his palm to display her rose necklace, the one she wears, must still wear, everyday. At least that hasn’t changed. “The EMTs gave it to me when they brought you in. I’ve been holding onto it for safekeeping.” She nods, turns around, and he slips it around her throat, clasps it, brushes a careful hand over her neck to move her hair out of the way. “That’s better,” he says, his breath ghosting over her skin, and she sighs, wants to sink back against the heat of his body; she just knows how comforting it would be, how safe she would feel. Instead, she turns and smiles softly.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” They hold eye contact for a moment, and then Emily appears at her side, making a face like she knows she’s interrupting something.

“Ready to get going?” she asks, handing Sophie’s duffle bag over to Aaron. “I’m going to stop at home and then I’ll head to your place.”

“Absolutely. Thank you, Emily,” Sophie says sincerely, stepping forward to pull her into a tight hug. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I hope I remember more about you soon.”

“I’m happy I could be here, and I know you will. Just give it some time.” She pats her on the back, and then leaves the room.

Aaron carries her bag and leads her out to the parking garage, toward a standard federal issued SUV, and he opens the door for her, closes it behind her with a gentle smile.

Time to go home.

Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal

[unsteadygalaxy]

all is soft inside chapter 12

a miragehound multichapter fanfiction

Also posted on Ao3, my username is the same there!

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12. give me a piece of your heart

A quick note: I have the Pathfinder's Quest book and I finished it today (Feb 2nd 2021)! It was mind-blowing and amazing and SO, SO GOOD. Unfortunately, this fic can no longer fit into canon because of what we find out about Bloodhound. Don't worry, I won't be spoiling! I had a story set up for them before I read the lore book, and that's the story I'll be sticking to. Maybe one day I'll write some canon things, but for now, this story is no longer canon-compliant. Part of me is sad to have all the answers, but hey! That's what makes canon-divergent fics so fun :)

Elliott practically flies down the street towards the Legends’ apartment complex, bursting with nervousness and energy as he goes. The torrential downpour of rain doesn’t even manage to dampen his mood; he’s got a heavy-duty umbrella and an upbeat attitude that could make the skies clear up in moments. Bloodhound’s proposition hangs in his head, and he clings to it with an embarrassing neediness. ‘Would you like to visit me in my apartment later this evening?’ they had asked, and he thought his heart would burst out of his chest. He feels like a dumbass for the way he had reacted- god, he was so lame. Falling over his words, making the simplest mistakes… What fourteen year old in the area had reached out and possessed him? Whoever it was, he’d have to have a strong talk with them later.

After arriving back to his apartment above the bar, he’d scrubbed himself clean and very meticulously arranged his hair. He’d eventually chosen a deep purple sweater over a light blue button down, a pair of his nicer dark jeans, a black belt, and sneakers to wear for the evening. He’d hemmed and hawed in front of the mirror for at least twenty minutes, rolling and unrolling his sleeves, second guessing each outfit choice he made until he settled. He had decided to keep the sleeves rolled up, but the easy confidence he usually has in himself has chosen to take a pointed leave of absence.

Elliott really does feel like a teenager obsessing over their first date all over again, but he has to remind himself it’s not a date, it’s just a talk. A nice evening in. A nice evening alone with Bloodhound. His cheeks blaze, and the enormity of his crush on them plummets onto his head all at once. 

Ahh, shit.

He finally lets his thoughts race and wander while thinking about them. For the first time in days, he lets himself linger on his memories of their face, though the quick glimpse he had gotten had not left him with much to remember. Their gorgeous red hair, their piercing green eyes, the striking contours of their face… They are so beautiful, and he would do anything to see their face again.

A giddy smile crosses his face when he thinks of all the times they’ve touched him on the arm or on the shoulder, or held his hands so softly. They had exuded kindness and compassion in those moments, the genuineness of which Elliott has not truly felt in a while. Bloodhound’s quiet vulnerability in the bar the other night had struck him as both odd and humbling; their increasing trust in him is something he definitely doesn’t want to take for granted. 

The complex comes into view and Elliott’s heart starts to pound harder in his chest. It takes a great deal of effort to not run all the way to their door… until he realizes he doesn’t know which floor is theirs, much less which door.

Bzzt! His phone vibrates in his back pocket, and he jumps a little before retrieving it. A message from an unknown number is emblazoned across the lock screen:

Second floor, number 14.

-BH

Excitement and happiness surges through his veins, and he immediately saves their contact information. God, is he really that pumped about having their number? A big stupid smile stretches across his face, and he wants to smack himself. Chill, Elliott, chill. You’ve gotta get ahold of yourself before you get up there. He takes a deep breath and sends a quick reply to Bloodhound as he continues down the sidewalk, valiantly avoiding the puddles. 

Nearly there! How’d you get my number?

A reply flashes through faster than he thought it would.

Renee owed me a favor. I hope it is all right that I asked her.

Oh, yeah, that’s fine! No problem :)

He has to physically restrain himself from adding a little heart; Renee or Octavio or Makoa were used to his nonsense, but he figures Bloodhound would only find it strange for him to be adding those things to his texts right off the bat. He’s busy smiling off into space when his phone vibrates again.

I am looking forward to seeing you.

Elliott’s heart practically explodes in his chest, and he steps right into a puddle.

------

Bloodhound can’t stay still.

Ever since those traitorous words had fallen from their mouth, they’d been on red alert, their brain and body a hopeless torrent of conflicting emotions that hadn’t quite settled. They think it’s fitting that it is raining; it seems the Allfather is showing his sympathies in the smallest of ways. The rain patters against the windows in a steady rhythm, and under any other circumstance it would have been very calming. They would have shed the mask and goggles and snuggled into the couch with a book and a cup of tea, but tonight, that isn’t an option. Instead, they’re wandering aimlessly around their apartment- cleaning corners that don’t really need to be cleaned, tending to Artur, and sipping at a glass of water every time they walk by the kitchen.

They’d hopped into the shower immediately after arriving home and cleaned every inch of their skin with an annoying attention to detail. Their anxiety had mounted in their chest until they had had to sit on the cold tiles of the shower with their head between their legs. Everything is going to be fine, they’d repeated to themself over and over again. Elliott would never hurt you.

The thought is ironic because of the stubborn headache at the base of their skull- Boone’s pain medicine had done little to abate the throbbing in their neck. As they think back on their day, they feel a surge of pride for Elliott. It seems that he is finally allowing himself to succeed, instead of limiting himself like he had before. He had truly surprised them today. Where they had once seen hesitation and worry, it had been replaced with deadly precision and focus, and Bloodhound would not change the outcome of the match even if they could. Elliott had been a wonderful sight to behold.

The frantic fear is nearly gone, but it lingers just enough to make them a little self-conscious. Opting not to wear their Games attire, they’ve picked a thick turtleneck, fitted cargo pants, woolen socks, and a slimmer pair of gloves that will hide their hands but not hinder any movement. The mask is laid on the table, ready to be put on at a moment’s notice. They’re already wearing the helmet, their goggles, and the leather cap. They’ve always hated having to pile wet hair under the hood, but their plans left them no choice. Bloodhound hasn’t cared much about their physical appearance in years, but for some reason, the idea of being alone with Elliott again makes them want to hide away in embarrassment.

An eager knock at the door startles Bloodhound, and they very nearly knock over their glass.

Their heart starts pumping in their chest, and their fingers fumble a little as they clip the respirator to the cap. Immediately, their breathing comes easier, and they scold themself for going so long without it this evening. Bloodhound makes their way to the door and opens it, revealing an absolutely drenched Elliott holding a broken umbrella in one hand and a pair of sopping wet sneakers in the other. 

“Hey! I, uh, definitely stepped in a ton of puddles on the way here. I usually watch where I’m going but these ones were sac- ski- scattered everywhere, so I couldn’t see them at all, and then of course the wind picked up and shredded my umbrella, so I’m totally soaked.” He shrugs helplessly and shakes the bent umbrella off a little, showering Bloodhound’s feet with droplets of water. “Ah, shit. Sorry!”

They shake their head at him and sigh, and a shiver goes through their body as they think about being drenched in this weather. “It is of no consequence, Elliott, I can very easily change socks. Please, come in,” they say, and they lead him into their apartment.

They try not to look at him as he takes in their apartment, suddenly insecure about how simple and bare it looks. The apartment had come furnished, but it is not quite to their tastes. Bloodhound prefers a more homey and warm feel, not the modern, sleek look that is so popular these days. The windows in the living room are quite large. Bloodhound had had a tinted effect added to them immediately- for their anonymity and so the light coming in would not be quite so harsh on their sensitive eyes. The furnishings are a combination of aesthetically pleasing colors and fabrics, all tones of white or grey or brown. A couple of plush blankets are draped over the back of the couch, and minimalistic frames are hung on the walls, great white voids containing typeface quotes and old cliches. The fireplace is an inordinate monolith of dark stone, and if Bloodhound had thought of it, they would have started a fire to make it seem less dull and boring. The thought occurs to them that they should have made this place more welcoming, but they are not vain enough to care in the long run. After all, will Elliott even want to return after he receives the answers to his questions? Bloodhound thinks not.

“Wow,” Elliott remarks, leaning his umbrella against the wall by the door. “It’s so clean.” He strips off his socks and rolls up his pants a little so the soggy ends aren’t rubbing around his ankles. The cuffs fit tightly around his very sculpted calves, and Bloodhound blushes before looking away pointedly.

“This space is not to my tastes,” they reply, watching him walk around. “My real home is much more notalegt- cozy- and warm. Not cold and unfeeling like this place is.” 

“Your real home?” he asks, glancing at them. “You don’t live in the Legends complexes full time?”

“I stay in the buildings during the on season, but during the off season, I retreat to a modest cabin in the woods,” they explain, and they realize they’ve made their first confession of the night. That... wasn’t so bad. “There are bookshelves from floor to ceiling, a large fireplace, plenty of furs to keep warm, and a view that would take your breath away. I quite enjoy it.” 

“That sounds amazing,” he grins. That smile… Bloodhound has to take a deep breath.

“Maybe I will show you one day,” they say, surprising themself with how easily they offer. “It is a beautiful place, and I think you would like it.” 

“Really?” he asks, surprised. “You’d, uh… you’d let me go with you?”

“Perhaps,” they murmur, and their heart starts to beat hard in their chest again. They notice he’s still carrying his wet shoes and socks, and they move to take them from him. “Here. Let me start a fire. Your shoes and socks will be dry in no time.” 

“Oh, thank you!” he replies cheerily, and the smile he gives them makes their heart skip a beat. They take the soggy items from him, cringing a bit at the questionable texture, and set them on the mantle for a moment. Overly aware of how closely he’s watching them, they kneel down, turn the gas knob, and light the fire quickly. In moments, a rosy glow emanates from the fireplace and Bloodhound pulls the screens over to eliminate any chance of Elliott’s things going up in flames. They reach up and place the shoes and socks on a small rack in front of the fire, and then they stand and retreat to their room for a moment.

Before long, they return to the living room wearing a fresh pair of socks and carrying a pair for Elliott. “Here,” they say, holding them out to him. “So your feet are not cold. It can be drafty in here when it rains.”

A pink tinge comes to his cheeks, and he accepts them hesitantly. “You’re way too nice,” he grumbles quietly as he sinks down onto the couch. He puts them on and then pushes his floppy wet hair out of his face. “Hey, can I borrow your hair dryer?” he asks, giving them a questioning glance.

“I… do not own one,” they reply, face burning. “Mine gave out a few weeks ago and I have not yet had time to buy another.”

To their surprise, he grins widely and looks away, suddenly very focused on the fire. “That’s all right,” he says, and his voice is curiously flustered. “I can just sit in front of the fireplace for a bit. You’re about to see the fluffiest hair the Outlands has to offer.” He laughs and rolls his eyes, raking his hands through his messy mop. 

The thought of Elliott with an untamed mess of curly hair makes them smile like a lovesick teenager, and they’re so, so glad they’re still wearing the mask. “So your hair is not perfect all the time?” they tease, sitting down on the couch next to him. They leave a respectable distance between them, but the distance is smaller than it would have been two or three weeks ago. “Ah, so he does have a flaw. Artur, can you believe it?”

They look to Artur’s perch where the bird has been sleeping peacefully throughout all of this. The bird shakes his beak and gives a soft caw before shuffling along his branch, completely ignoring Bloodhound. They shake their head at him. Unhelpful creature, they think affectionately.

Elliott scoffs and says, “Psh, no! I’m absolutely fal- flo- fu- perfect. My hair just has a life of its own sometimes.” He flips his hair to the opposite side and gives Bloodhound a ridiculously goofy expression. It takes everything in them to not burst out laughing, and they would have given him a deadpan expression if they could.

“Like your aim with an R-99, then,” they reply, keeping their voice as even as possible.

His mouth drops open, but he’s smiling. “Wh-What? Was that a joke? Did you actually just tell a joke?” A huge, incredulous laugh escapes his throat and he grabs his chest, and Bloodhound almost loses it. “That’s a little unfair though, considering how I absolutely lasered you today.”

It’s Bloodhound’s turn to laugh, and their face hurts from how much they’ve smiled lately. “You are correct, Elliott,” they admit, holding their hands up in a placating gesture. “I was very impressed with your skill this morning. Your precision and focus made you a formidable opponent, and I was honored to fight with you.”

Instead of the cocky, arrogant response they have come to expect from him, Elliott actually blushes. It is a welcome change; his cheeks turn a lovely shade of red and he looks away, biting his lip. “Thanks,” he says simply, and his voice is… bashful? 

Bloodhound does not quite know what to make of that.

------

His face burns fiercely and he can’t meet their eyes. He loves getting praise from his fans and from his friends, but getting praised by Bloodhound somehow means so much more. Maybe it’s because they’re so skilled, or maybe it’s because he respects them the most out of any other Legend, but such high compliments coming from them renders him a little speechless. 

“Hey, I know this is dumb since we’re paid to kill each other, but, um… Sorry about today,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Taking an entire clip of ammo to the head always gives you a nasty headache.”

Bloodhound huffs quietly, and Elliott takes that to be a soft laugh. “Do not worry, vinur minn. I am perfectly fine. It was simply the Allfather’s will for me to lose today, and I am not offended.”

Elliott lets out a small chuckle, relieved. “Well, that’s good to know. I was worried I might have broken your mask.”

They tap their mask firmly, and it makes a solid thunk sound. “You see? Perfectly fine,” they reply, and Elliott can hear the smile in their voice. “It is quite solid and substantial. Unlike much of your humor.”

Elliott stares at them open mouthed. “I’m wounded, Bloodhound, truly!” he rebutts, scandalized. He flops back against the couch dramatically, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. Bloodhound, making multiple jokes in one night? The world must be ending, he thinks, and he doesn’t even care that the jokes are coming at his expense.

Bloodhound laughs, and God, he’s missed that sound. The gentle lilt, the soft breathiness of their voice… Elliott blushes even as he giggles, and he treasures the noise they’re making. 

“I have been known to be humorous now and again,” they say, still chuckling. 

Elliott can only smile and shake his head in wonder as the two of them laugh, and soon, he’s wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “Wow. Okay, out of all the things I expected tonight it definitely wasn’t that.”

“And what have you expected for this evening, Elliott?” Bloodhound cocks their head and leans back into the couch, folding their arms.

A thrill of joy runs its course throughout his body when they say his name, and he finds it strange. Bloodhound has surely said his name hundreds of times, but this feels different. Elliott is sure he’s overthinking it, but the way they had said it feels like they were humming a song. 

His entire body glows with warmth. “You promised me answers,” he says carefully as the giddiness starts to drain away. “You don’t have to go into specifics but… still, you promised answers.”

Bloodhound is silent for a moment, and their hands fidget lightly in their lap. Then they nod. “Yes. I do owe you answers, so please, ask whatever you would like.” Their voice is guarded and serious, and the shift in attitude is sobering. 

Elliott notices how discomfort begins to creep into their posture, and so he resolves to not push them any further than they are willing to be pushed. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, the air hissing between his teeth as he leans back and begins to think. “Okay, um… Well, I was worried about your mask breaking because I don’t know how it works or how it helps. Can I ask why you need it?”

The question only makes Bloodhound’s body language tighten up more. They are silent for several long moments, seeming to ponder and consider his question. Was that too much right out of the gate? he thinks frantically, and he’s about to redact his question when they let out a big breath and begin to speak.

“When I was a child, I was… in an accident,” they say, but something about their admission feels shallow, as if they have more to tell. “No. I made a grave mistake.”

Elliott takes a deep breath and readjusts himself on the couch. He can tell this story will be a long one, and he intends to listen to every word.

“In my culture, young warriors must endure a rite of passage that shows our strength and our transition into adulthood,” Bloodhound explains. “My test was to slátra a prowler beast. I was afraid, but... I knew the Allfather would guide me.” They pause for a moment, and Elliott hangs on to their every word. “I followed its tracks to an abandoned IMC facility deep in the woods, but what I found there was far more hryllilegur. Horrible,” they add when Elliott raises an eyebrow. 

“A jötunn had made its home there. It is a terrifying beast, all horns and teeth and claws. It is as large as some of the buildings in Slum Lakes, if you can recall. I began to run away, but I found a prototype Charge Rifle and shot the beast. I thought it was dead. I collected its horn to present to my uncle, but he was... disappointed in me.” They sigh deeply as dread begins to pool in Elliott’s stomach. “I had rejected the sacred laws of the Hunt by using a gun in order to defeat this beast. Artur was steadfast, immovable in his convictions, and no matter how hard I tried to convince him of my victory, he would not validate it.

“I left in anger. I was a child, only fourteen years old, but if the other village elders knew what I had done, they would have exiled me. I was... so ashamed.” Bloodhound swallows, and it sounds like it takes a lot of effort. “I retreated to the forest to be alone, as I often did, and… the jötunn was there. It was not dead, as I had hoped. It sought revenge.

“I tried my best to fight it off. My uncle was alerted to my cries, and came to help, along with many other villagers. They fought, and…” Their voice tightens, and Elliott’s heart breaks. “Many died. Including my uncle.”

Their voice has become achingly vulnerable and soft the longer they’ve spoken, and Elliott wants nothing more than to reach out and take their hands again. He shifts closer to them on the couch, closing the gap ever so slightly. His eyes stay glued to their mask, and the lenses of their goggles reflect the flickering light of the fireplace. He’s always found the mask to be either intimidating or expressionless, but Bloodhound’s sadness speaks for them, and the mask seems to be considerably more morose than usual. 

“I sought the beast out,” they continue, and Elliott is surprised by how quietly angry and low their voice is. “It had returned to the abandoned facility. The halls had been equipped with coolant lines in case of an explosion or other emergency, and I broke them in order to immobilize the beast. But I breathed too much of it in, and… it dehydrated and froze my skin and lungs, leaving me scarred. Fortunately, I was able to find an oxygen mask just before I succumbed to the cold. Once the beast was frozen, I killed it with my uncle’s axe, fulfilling my test.”

Bloodhound is quiet for some time, and it takes Elliott a moment to realize they’re done talking. He knows he’s staring, and he knows he looks like he’s pitying them, and he fights to find an adequate response. “I’m so sorry, Bloodhound,” he murmurs, and he reaches out to them hesitantly. He takes their hands ever so softly, giving them every opportunity to pull away. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with such horrible things when you were younger. That sounds really tra- tor- traumatizing.” He’s struck by an incredible urge to pull them into his arms and hold them close, and a wave of embarrassment runs through his body as he presses that urge down.

Bloodhound’s hands begin to tremble in his, and he’s alerted to their discomfort immediately. Their breathing comes quicker and shallower even through the mask, and he holds onto them tighter. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, worried.

“I-” Their voice breaks and Elliott’s heart clenches in his chest. “I- I am sorry, Elliott, you do not want to see me like this-” Bloodhound makes an attempt to pull away and stand, but Elliott holds on tight, keeping them right where they are.

“Hey, hey,” he soothes. “It’s okay! It’s all right. I’m not bothered by you being emotional. It’s actually pretty refreshing, honestly. Makes you feel more normal, like the rest of us.”

They laugh weakly, and Elliott sighs in relief. “T-Thank you, vinur minn. I just- I am prone to anxiety attacks, and…” They suck in a huge lungful of air, but they’re still shaking. “That is why I left the other night. When you asked me about Artur, I was overcome and needed to leave as quickly as possible. Please do not take any offense- it was not your fault.”

Elliott’s chest fills with a strange sense of compassion and guilt, and he squeezes their hands comfortingly. “It’s okay, Bloodhound,” he reassures them. “I’m not mad. Just… worried.” The admission makes him feel exposed and overbearing all at once, and he really hopes he’s not making them uncomfortable.

An idea comes to his mind. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Breathe with me.” 

Bloodhound stiffens, and Elliott hopes to God he hasn’t somehow offended them. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, and after a moment, he hears Bloodhound inhale greatly as well. He finds himself rubbing his thumbs back and forth across their rough gloves, just like they had done to him a few nights ago. He lets the air calm him and settle his racing heart. He still doesn’t really know what he’s doing, or if he’s even doing this right, but to his delight, Bloodhound’s breathing begins to slow and even out. They gradually stop shaking, and he smiles. 

Elliott opens his eyes. “Better?” he asks, and he gives their hands a quick squeeze. 

They are quiet for a moment. “Nearly,” they murmur, and they pull their hands away. Elliott’s face falls, and rejection begins to rise in him, but they take off their gloves and reach for him once more. He eagerly closes the gap between his shaking fingers and theirs. The place where they make first contact with his skin- a small place near his thumb- tingles pleasantly, and the warmth of their hand settles in his. He inhales sharply, and beams as their fingers curl into his own. 

“Better.” They are so quiet and soft as they speak, and Elliott almost misses what they say. “Your kindness is a blessing to me, kæri vinur. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiles, trying to find their eyes beyond the lenses of their goggles. Despite his happiness, he finds himself wishing that he could search their face for meaning, for emotion, for clarity. He knows why they need and wear the mask. He knows why he will likely never see their face again. But, damn, does he desperately want to gaze upon them just one more time. He doesn’t know what kæri vinur means, but he can’t help but notice the similarities between it and what they usually call him. 

He doesn’t dare to hope it means anything.

...does he?

“Do you… do you want to talk about it, or…?” he trails, attempting to do what they had done a few nights ago. 

“No, Elliott,” they reply, but their voice is not unkind. Their grip on his hands tightens for a moment, then they loosen, and it sends a thrill down Elliott’s spine. “Your help was more than enough to calm me.”

He adjusts himself on the couch, and his knee brushes against theirs. The only light in the room comes from the quietly crackling fire, and it highlights Bloodhound’s features with a silhouette of warmth. His heart starts to pound in his chest once more, and every sense heightens. Elliott suddenly becomes aware of how intimate and vulnerable this little bubble of space is, and his shoulders tense in anticipation of something he knows will never come. He wants to pull them close. He wants to lace his fingers in theirs. He wants to…

“Can I trust you, Elliott?”

They sound so… exposed. So afraid. His breath catches in his throat for a moment. “O-Of course, Bloodhound. You can trust me with anything,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumbs across their knuckles reassuringly. He’s surprised by how rough their hands are, and it’s only then that he remembers the silvery spider web scars stretching across their skin. 

“Then… there is something I wish to share with you,” they reply, and their hands begin to tremble in his again. They let go of him, and to his utter shock, their hands go to their helmet, edging towards the many clasps that fasten it to their goggles and respirator.

“W-Wait, hold on,” he stutters, and he reaches for their hands again. “A-Are you- hey, you really don’t have to do that if you don’t want to, I mean- I mean, are you absolutely sure?” He stares at them in confusion and worry, and his stomach is an unintelligible knot of emotion. Elliott searches their mask and their body language, trying desperately to figure out what the hell they’re thinking.

“If I was not sure I would not be doing this,” they chide gently, and they remove their hands from his grip. “Please, just let me do this. Ég er svo- I am so tired of hiding.”

Elliott can’t argue with that. 

“Okay,” he says, still very unsure. His hands fall back into his lap.

------

The child inside them shakes and trembles horribly as they raise their hands to their head. Part of them screams and begs for them to stop, and it’s only in this moment that they realize that part is the terrified twenty-five year old that had had their mask shattered in front of all those people so long ago. That crowd had been so cruel, but Elliott could never share their vitriol, their hatred. Bloodhound has seen into the man’s heart more than they ever thought they would, and no trace of cruelty exists inside him.

How long has it been since they willingly showed someone else their face? Five years? Ten? Ajay seeing them had been a complete and total accident- one that they had learned not to mind. Boone had grown up with them, of course, so he does not count. But Elliott… At the beginning of this night, they never would have dreamed of doing what they’re about to do. But Elliott is so kind, so thoughtful and accepting that their heart yearns for him greatly, and they can ignore that fact no longer.

Their fingers fumble with the straps of their helmet, but something drives them forward. It drives them to be vulnerable- to be open and take a risk. Elliott has seen their face already, so why are they so nervous? He has seen the scars they bear- why are they trembling like the young one they used to be? They do not know, but they hope that the price of them being so vulnerable is a price he’s willing to pay. 

There is no turning back now, they think. 

With trembling hands, they remove the helmet, cap, goggles, and finally, the mask. 

[askmyboys]

I’d call these more, my own interpretations instead of just OCs

I’ll tell you how this happened tho, i was literally just comin back from a l o n g ass road trip listenin to the musical and my tired lil brain started thinkin bout these boys and i was like ...what if i just,, made my o w n versions of em? What if I just,, and then boom, out popped well, this-

| Names: Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde

| Nicknames: Jekyll doesn’t much care for nicknames but Hyde calls him Jek, Hen or Hen-Hen, or Henny which he REALLY hates. For the other, it’s either Ed or just simply Hyde ...Jekyll has given him many ‘nicknames’ mostly they are hateful ones tbh.

| Genders: Henry goes by he/him and Hyde goes by he/him and it/its

| Ages: Unknown but they are both adults

| Heights: Jekyll is 5’7” and Hyde is like 6’6” for sure (even tho they inhabit the same body, fuck it, im makin the rules ..andchangingthemfromtheogthing but i say height changes when Hyde’s in control)

| Species/Races: Henry’s a human ofc and Hyde? Honestly, idk what this thing is, all i can tell you is he’s stinky

| Eye Colors: Jekyll’s eyes are a Baby Blue color and Hyde’s eyes are Blood Red (ooh e d g y man)

| Hair Colors: Jekyll’s hair is honestly a messy curly undercut and the color of it is a dark brown and he has gray on the sides meanwhile Hyde’s hair is Black and in a spiked quiff style and he also has gray on the sides

| Skin Colors/Body Types: Jek’s a BIT pale but Hyde’s a much more- his skin is definitely more so a Whitish Gray kinda color so it’s definitely more noticeable than Jek’s skin if you look close enough at that (things do have to change when a certain one is in control of the body, can’t be EXACTLY the same or else it might give away that their the same person hehe) and their body types don’t really change- Jek’s body type is skinny (nothing TOO bad ofc, just a tad bit) if Hyde had his own body he’d definitely be a more average kinda bulkier build.

| Appearances: Okay first things first- they both have circle beards EXCEPT Hyde’s is a LOT more scruffier (he also has thicker sideburns btw!) and a BIT more grown out than Jek’s which is trimmed a bit more and groomed perfectly.

Jekyll usually has the typical lab coat on and a baby blue turtleneck underneath it, he also has blue pants that he wears with it as well and some oxford shoes that match the outfit, he also wears circle glasses as well (they help him see a lot better p much whereas when Hyde’s in control he doesn't really need em actually) Henry has a GOOD amount of scars all over his body, whether it be by accident, inflicted on purpose, or something more… It’s partially why he keeps his turtleneck on mostly and the lab coat helps as well- he’s ashamed of the scars and he tries to hide them especially so no one will worry about him, also for some more minor details- he wears a black watch on his wrist as well (he has no piercings or nothin like that) that’s p much it for Jek tbh, his features are p much 100% human so uh yeye

Now onto Hyde’s outfit- And yes, keep in mind- he’s still kinda,, an entity or whatever the fuck he is inside Henry’s body essentially but he DOES change his clothes when going out- his main one for going out is usually a black cloak he wears around himself (the outfit underneath is a black suit vest with a long dark red tie (his shirt underneath the suit vest is a dark red long sleeved shirt), he also wears black pants, and dark red oxford shoes, and of course he’s got a black top hat on (the band on it is red, definitely keeping a black n red themed appearance here aint he?) (his other outfits, hm I can leave up to the imagination tbh this is just for when he’s travelling around and so other people don’t spot him nearly as easily, especially when it’s n i g h t t i m e…) he’ll wear whatever the fuck he wants, and it doesn’t have to be fancy in the s l i g h t e s t- he has a variety of options.

He also has pointed ears, razor sharp teeth (got them bear trap teeth but not only that, he’s got a lot more s e c r e t teefs than that ;) he’s a lot more monstrous on the inside than the outside i’ll say that much, Jek’s n Hyde’s anatomy does change and transform depending on who gains control ...honestly it probs hurt to have your body transform and shift like that ouchie) he also has multiple tongues, he has claws that he painted black and red for the a e s t h e t i c s ya know- and hell at this point he might as well have tentacles ...He might- but I mean if you really wanna know, fuck around and find out for yourself and fuck it- he also has a dark red devil style tail since he wanna act like fuckin Satan himself smh

...I made him a lot more monstrous than originally planned but eh its fitting- bc this is Jek’s body even with a LOT of changes in these regards, he’s got the same scars n such as that, he also wears black and red spiral gauges in his ears (I should also say, he can technically hide these features to make himself appear more human, i didnt originally intend on giving him any actual monstrous features except maybe sharp teeth, claws, n the pointed ears but here we are, he still gotta not arouse suspicion around him too much tho) also his eyes have dark circles around them, not because he’s a tired man he’s just a fucking- hellish bastard who loves to look intimidating.

| Personalities: Let’s uhh start off with Jekyll because he’s better and nicer and not nasty and gross n smelly looking- He’s kind, sweet, compassionate, caring, honestly wouldn’t hurt a fly himself- could never willingly hurt someone! A sweet babey man! He’s very intelligent- I mean,, he IS a Doctor after all, he takes pride in his work but it’s not that overbearing narcissistic type pride, he’s just proud of the breakthroughs he’s made ...Granted, there is one “breakthrough” he wished he could take back .. -glancing slowly at Hyde in the reflection of the mirror- ahem- but he’s always been pretty outgoing but a lot has changed since, that abomination came into his life, sure he still tries his best to be a good person, he tries his very damnedest to find some sorta way to separate or better yet a way to destroy this evil vile beast that plagues his and everyone else’s lives! He’d rather destroy Hyde than separate from him because even then, it's still back to square one only with worse damage since he’d be of his own free will now.

He shuts himself away in his Lab a LOT, as much as he can anyways to avoid going out and risking something more happening to anyone else, of course…

There is no avoiding the outside world forever, he needs things to eat and drink, he needs things to keep his body functioning and not to mention not going outside could drive him, well, more insane than he already feels he is- He just tries to be as quick as he can about it before the other takes control or tries to, Jek definitely has a lotta anxieties and fears, and ya know at this point I mean,, hell- the man’s got trauma- Sometimes he wonders if any of this is actually real, if he had just gone insane and was just imagining all this, sometimes his head hurt because of all the thoughts and potential scenarios along with their outcomes plagued his mind, he feels a lot of things he never thought he’d feel towards anyone, he feels anger and hatred toward Hyde but in a way aside from feeling so negatively toward the other, he can’t help but admire the way Hyde wishes to just simply l i v e, and even before this beast became apart of him… He was always anxious deep down and almost scared to take that jump when needed.

But Hyde? Hyde doesn’t seem to even c a r e! That thing lives it’s life without any care whatsoever, he doesn’t have any anxieties or fears at all it seems! In a way, Henry might even be a lil envious toward the other’s carefree attitude and that he’s free of anxieties and fears ...H-He still doesn’t want the other around, he still wishes to destroy Hyde of course, even with the envy and maybe a slight bit of admiration he has his morals and principals, and if Hyde continues to exist or w o r s e gets his own body it could prove v e r y perilous.

Now onto… Eugh, Hyde- The bastard man himself- He’s stinky- an evil bastard who really needs just a good punch in the face (god don't do it yourself tho, he’ll probs eat ur entire arm) Hyde’s absolutely disgusting, will do ANYTHING to get what he desires, he can be narcissistic in some regards, VERY prideful and greedy in many ways, he isn’t above committing murder like really, was he EVER above it? If he wanted, he’d literally murder you not even for a bag of corn chips but literally just one, psh- selling you to satan for one? Bah that’s amateur’s work! He’s somehow a minor inconvenience who can commit REALLY nasty and horrible atrocities at the same time if he feels like it, if he finds out something annoys you or REALLY pisses you off he’s going to keep doing it, he will literally try driving you insane just for the fun of it, really at this point it doesn’t seem like he HAS much of a goal but to just l i v e and cause chaos, destruction, and mayhem wherever he goes, he despises Jekyll in many ways, one being for trying to destroy him first and foremost but also Henny is just s o fucking weak, such a weak man with far too many anxieties, fears, etc- He’d be SO much better of a man if he’d simply let Hyde take control and STAY in control!

It’d make everything a lot easier, then Jek wouldn’t have to worry about ANYTHING ever again! No more of that pathetic nonsense! If it were possible, Hyde would absolutely l o v e to have his own body, separate from Jekyll, that way he could have his own life separate from that pathetic weakling’s! But… Even then, Jekyll and Hyde are one, in many ways they are absolutely apart of one another, two sides of the same coin, even with their MAJOR differences in personality and Hyde almost seeming like an entirely different entity just merely possessing Jekyll, after all, Hyde will admit it himself, he spawned from deep within Jekyll’s mind, he’s tried to get the other to see time and time again that he’s always been apart of the other deep down, Jek’s always had a more mad and evil side to him! Even if the other will deny this and take the denial to his grave, Hyde always persists in trying to get the other to see the truth in front of his eyes!

Aside from that tho, Hyde is just generally a dick and loves to mess with Jek and terrify him sometimes for literally no reason, hell he could be bored one day and decide “Hey Henny, fuck you, you suck” he loves to start drama, he loves to cause problems on purpose- Both of them would give anything to separate from each other, even if Hyde knows the truth deep down bout the both of them, even if he were always originally a part of Jekyll, it didn’t matter, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to get his own body, away from that pathetic coward of a man!

| Side Facts: Jekyll rarely ever gets to relax or any free time, he’s too worried to give himself that in fear he’ll lose control, he’s almost CONSTANTLY fighting to keep control over the other, even though he knows it's physically impossible to do so, after all, he can’t stay awake forever, sure that doesn’t stop him from trying to stay awake as long as he can before his body practically forces him to pass out and he’s MUCH weaker than he used to be, I mean hell, given how long Jekyll seems to have been around, fighting SO much and almost EVERY single day has practically worn his body down but whenever there is an opportunity for any “free” time he usually spends it trying to figure out an antidote or a way to get rid of Hyde (I will say, before Hyde REALLY started doing bastardous n horrendous things, Jek would still get annoyed with him bc he was always that way but he actually, I’d say tolerated him more so than he does by now) and Hyde even- well, he still disliked Henry IMMENSELY so, but he definitely wasn’t as bad or as awful as he is to the other now, it was more so I tolerate you and we dont have to seriously fight or struggle with each other for control and back then Jek would even sometimes let Hyde have control.

But then… A serious incident (I wont name what exactly) but a serious incident that happened caused the two to absolutely despise each other (i didnt say up there, yes, Hyde absolutely despises Jekyll but there is some heavily hidden admiration in regards to the other’s determination, his persistence, and even somewhat of his creativity, Jekyll despite being an annoying nuisance in Hyde’s way, he does have some admirable things about him) but anyway- ever since that incident occurred, Jek has tried almost EVERYTHING he knew of to get rid of Hyde, even if separation from his body would still be bad bc that could mean Hyde would obtain his own body honestly? I believe Jekyll would still take that opportunity if he were given it, if he needed, he’d try and find someway to stop Hyde’s evil, maybe it’d be easier even if the other had his own body, he didn’t know, he just wishes he could be free from all this torment and agony like gosh damn give this man a b r e a k. Give him some fruit gummies and an appy juice carton and leave him be!

When Hyde is in control he wastes little time in finding things to do, being able to be out, to see the world, the world ripe for chaos and destruction, he wastes little time in getting straight to work with whatever his devious lil mind wants to think of- also for more monstrous purposes, back up there, I was p vague with the mention of teeth on his insides- p much teeth going down his throat and hell who knows, the bastard probably has teeth on the inside of his stomach at this rate- Another not so fun fact, this man can unhinge his jaw! Yaaay so u can see sharp teefs! ...He does have to kinda set his jaw back in place though bc god forbid Jek takes control then.

Smh imagine taking back control of your body only to have a fucking dislocated j a w wouldn’t that be hellish?

Hyde rarely ever does this for a few reasons- he only does it if he’s in the mood for just takin a big chomp outta someone (big chompy) just, just please- lock this thing away- or kill it, it's a menace to society and deserves nothing good- two more things btw, tbh I genuinely wasnt even considering inhuman features at first but ya know, I compromised- he has them he just chooses to hide them more often and speaking of, while Hyde says he’s always been apart of Jekyll (well this version I made anyway) that deep down their two sides of the same coin, can you really believe him? I mean, I’m not going to spoil it and tell ya anything in that regard, but who knows, who knows what Hyde REALLY is, whether or not he’s always been apart deep down inside of Jek or just some form of entity that spawned via that wonderful little formula.

And the final thing is, their voices are p much based on the musical ones' voices- Hyde’s is that deeper n raspier kinda voice while Jek’s is much softer and ya know POLITE sounding.

[the-fixation-zone]

and here it is...chapter 2 of The Boys Crack Open a Cold One, the fic I’m writing with @queenspinoodle​! art by my co-writer will be included in this one, as it was in the last. comments appreciated :)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The next day, Zucchini is inscribing fresh runes on his hands when Sock enters his tent.

“Knock, knock!” Sock says cheerfully. Zucchini grunts back. “Not a morning person, huh? Well, luckily for you it’s just past noon. Busy?”

“Little bit,” Zucchini says, finishing up the rune over his left hand. The last part’s always the trickiest, and he needs his full concentration. Almost got it…

“I think we should get to know each other a little better.”

Shit! Sock’s statement surprised Zucchini enough that his brush slid sideways, ruining the entire picture. He sighs, getting up to wash the ink off his hands. He’ll have to try again later. 

“Yeah? What makes you say that?”

“Well, we’ll be working together, right? So we probably shouldn’t be at each other’s throats in front of a bad guy. It’s not a good look.”

Zucchini hums, dipping his hands in the cool water of the basin in the corner of his room. “Sure, makes sense. What did you have in mind?”

What Sock had in mind was a trip into town. Sock loves the circus and the people in it, but he loves being out and about more. The sights and smells of the city always warm his heart. A glance over at Zucchini and he quickly realizes that this is not a universal feeling.  His companion has a wary look in his eyes, as if he’s expecting to be robbed at any moment. Zucchini walks stiffly, careful not to touch anyone he passes. Sock tries his best not to roll his eyes. They walk in silence and, after a few minutes, the silence turns...awkward. Sock twiddles his thumbs, suddenly unsure what to do with his arms. 

Zucchini, feeling the change, grows more uncomfortable. It’s not his fault he doesn’t get out much! It’s just easier to stay home reading or practicing his rune work. And, besides, it’s not like he has any friends he’d go into town with. Sock is the popular one. The longer they walk, the more both men feel as though going out may have been a mistake. However, still determined to salvage this outing, Sock finally speaks.

"Um, so do you like… food?" Not the most original conversation starter, but anything is better than the vacuum they’re traveling in.

Zucchini seems to agree. “Yeah! Uh, I mean yes, I like food. I’ll eat anything. Well, not anything with coconut. Or too much sugar. But, yeah, I, uh, eat.” 

"Oh. Do you want to get food?" 

“Sure, that sounds good. Do you have somewhere in mind?” 

Sock, not expecting to get this far, immediately blanks on every place he’s ever eaten. Food? What is food? 

“Uh, Sock? Earth to Sock, you good?”

Sock quickly looks around and notices a vendor selling kabobs. "How about kabobs?" He smiles and tries to seem like he knows what he's doing. He thinks he does pretty good.

“A kabob would be nice, yeah. Which one should I get? I don’t think I’ve had one before.” 

He's never had a kabob? Does this guy do anything outside of practice? Sock gives him a weird look out of the side of his eye and says, "I think the beef ones are the best."

Zucchini doesn’t notice, already walking towards the vendor. “I’ll take your word for it.” To the vendor he says, “One beef kabob, please.” Then he turns back to Sock. “And you? What’ll you have?”

"I'll take a beef one, too." He takes his from the vendor and searches his pockets for enough change to pay for both. Surprised, Zucchini gives Sock a grateful smile. Sock shrugs, the vendor thanks them, and they head off again.

Zucchini takes a bite of his kabob and finds it’s pretty good. Not what he expected, but nice. He realizes Sock made the last attempt at conversation and decides the ball’s in his court. “So…” Zucchini starts, “how did you get into trapeze work?”

Sock pulls a piece of meat off his kabob with his teeth, chewing for a bit as he thinks of his answer. "I learned many of the basics at a young age while being taught to hunt. It wasn't that hard to put it all together for the trapeze." He remembers times when he was learning to hunt, climbing trees to get a vantage point with his father behind him, whispering guidance. It was a happy memory, once.  "Sometimes the best way to catch an animal is to hide where it least expects you. Usually that’s up a tree. What about you?" 

“Well, back when I was living with my dad, I used to like to get away. More like escape, if I’m being honest.” He gives a little laugh. It doesn’t sound happy. “I’d go up to the roof just to be alone and I realized if I crawled across clotheslines, I could get to the roof next door. It was terrifying at first but, like, kind of liberating? I could go anywhere on those clotheslines and no one could stop me. The juggling was different, though. My mom and I used to play catch with things in the kitchen, eggs, butter, just to have some fun while we were cooking together. I liked to show off for her, show her how many things I could catch at once. It sort of spiraled from there.” He smiles thinking about it. “Kind of silly, huh?”

"Nah, it's neat. When did you learn fire manipulation?"

“Oh. You could say it’s a... family tradition. My dad’s really good and he taught me.” Zucchini’s tone turns unquestionably sour.

Sock picks up on the mood change and decides to drop the topic. He looks around for something new to talk about when he notices they're passing by a street lined with clothing stores. He loves shopping for clothes and other material things, though he'd rarely admit it. It isn’t the most masculine thing to be into, and he doesn’t want to face any more ridicule than he has in the past. Besides, he’s already spent most of his money on those kabobs. He does slow down a bit to see if Zucchini is interested, though.

Zucchini notices Sock slowing down and turns to look down the street. “Oh, hey, you wanna go clothes shopping? I think I need some new outfits for my act. And…” he looks around subtly, “maybe we can think about costumes? You know, for crime fighting?”

"Oh, sure! Right, right, costumes." Sock heads to the first shop that doesn’t seem overly feminine.

Zucchini follows him in, looking around. “So, uh, weapons shop huh? Not exactly what I had in mind, but I guess we need something other than nets, don’t we?”

"Yeah, uh, we don't know what kind of people are out there, you know? Gotta keep ourselves safe."

“Right, right,” Zucchini replies, nodding.

Sock examines the various types of weapons they have. He used to have weapons of his own, but he had sold them a few years ago to afford food for himself and his sister. Now that they're in the circus, they no longer need to worry about their next meal. Not that that stopped him. 

Trying to shake the memory, Sock wanders the store. They have many large weapons, like axes and swords and maces, but Sock isn't a big fan of heavy weaponry, nor is he trained to use them. They do have a decent selection of knives and daggers, though. He gravitates towards them, thinking of the knife he has already. It’s old and in bad shape. Really, it’s a wonder it had even cut through that rope the night before.

Zucchini wanders around as well, thinking about what weapon he might like to use. He’d learned sword fighting when he was a kid, but it’s been a while since he’s touched one. Looking around, he finds a pair of swords that look exactly like the ones his dad had in the house. He walks over, staring at them but not picking them up. As he views them, the shopkeeper comes by.

“Ah, I see we have a gentleman with discerning taste! These are my finest swords, handcrafted by the famous Yoshi Hoshi two years ago. Visitors come by often to admire them, but it seems few people have the skill to use them properly!”

“Huh. They do look nice.”

The shopkeeper gives him a conspiratorial look. “Would you like to try them?”

“Oh! I, uh, I couldn’t, I’m just--”

“Go on! No harm in holding them, young man, go right ahead!” The shopkeeper gives him a hearty slap on the back, causing Zucchini to stagger. He quickly rights his balance, hoping he wasn’t too obvious. He takes another moment to look at the swords before he brings them down from their mount.

As soon as they’re in his hands, he knows these are the ones. He holds them together then separates them, taking a step back before giving them each a swing. Marvelous. They fit in his hands like they were meant for him, and the weight of each is perfect. He can feel the shopkeeper’s excitement next to him and is regretful when he puts them back. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t pay for them right now...but I’ll be back. I’ll definitely be back.” Zucchini walks over to where Sock is, his mind still on the swords. “Any luck? Or should we move on?” 

Sock really wants to get at least one of the knives, but after buying the kabobs he only has a few copper pieces left. Too embarrassed to tell Zucchini that, he says, "they have a lot out of stock right now. Maybe I'll check back later."

“Alright. When you come back, I’ll join you. Let’s look for some costumes for now.” Zucchini walks out of the shop and looks around for a clothes vendor. Seeing something suitable, he walks in, Sock following right behind him. 

The moment Sock walks in, he’s overwhelmed by the store’s selection of clothes from all over. Before he can get carried away, he reminds himself that he's only here to find an outfit to fight in. Hopefully a cheap one. He browses the racks, finding many dark clothing articles, perfect for sneaking around at night. He picks some at random, pulling out a black sleeveless shirt and a pair of fairly loose pants. They are low quality and flimsily made, but they’re extremely cheap and he can easily mend the seams back at his tent. 

Zucchini isn’t sure what he wants yet, so he looks around waiting for something to jump out at him. He touches the fabric, thinking about what might feel good when running around after criminals (or, possibly, saving people at the 11th hour…). Finally, he finds a turtleneck in black and some lightweight cotton pants that look like they’d just about fit. “Hey, Sock? Should we get something to cover our faces, too?”

Sock thinks about that for a moment. "I think I already have something we can use."

“You do?” Zucchini is surprised, but not that surprised. He’s always pegged Sock as a theatrical person.

The shopkeeper, who is hovering nearby to assist, starts giving them weird looks. Sock notices and makes a face at Zucchini. "I'll show you when we get back." He approaches the shopkeeper with a smile, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“Oh, right. Got it.” Zucchini follows Sock to pay for his choices as well.

After paying, Sock leaves the store feeling good about having something to fight in other than civilian clothes or circus garb. He has a pair of boots at home he can wear with his new outfit, and a few masks stashed under his cot to hide their identities. It may not be the best costume, but he figures it’s alright for just starting out. 

Zucchini is also pleased with what he bought but isn’t quite ready to go home. “So, uh. You wanna look around some more? We don’t have to buy anything but, well, the day’s still young, right?” 

"Uh, yeah, sure." Sock starts off in the direction of the next store when something catches his eye. Plastered to the wall of one of the shops is a picture. He peels it off the wall to read it.

“Whatcha got there?” Zucchini asks, trying to look over Socks’ shoulder

Sock grins. "Wanted poster. Looks like we've found our first job."

[monochromemedic]

Funhouse Murder Party Part 1

Dom stood outside the mansion, staring at his watch before sighing shakily, shifting his weight from heel to heel. His nerves were on end, but maybe that was because this was something new. He’d never been to a .... a what the hell was this even. He pulled his phone out and checked the website page again. ‘Murder Mystery Dinner Experience.’ Fallon was really up in arms about it, saying how excited he was about doing one of these, but wanted friends to come with him. Said it was a real life Clue experience where you ran around trying to solve the fake murder that happened and ate some food.  It wasn’t his usual cup of tea, he’d never thought about doing one of these but well, Fallon said he’d cover the expenses which meant Silas’ which meant he’d be coming as well.  The entire gang of idiots in a weird... role play murder mystery. What could possibly go wrong. Horrible accents, terrible costumes, bad affects, someone getting drunk and throwing up int he corner, really the possibilities were endless. As Dom was lost in his own thoughts, starting to check his twitter timeline he felt a hand clamp down on the shoulder of his ironed plum colored suit. Dom raised his head slightly, looking up at Silas’s bright face hovering over him. At least he was dressed decently. It wasn’t a suit but a nice black turtleneck and slacks. Simple but effective.  Even if it did look like he’d bust out of the fabric at a sudden gesture. “You excited buddy? I always wanted to be in a real life board game.” He laughed, his deep voice ringing out in the cold air. “...Like in general? Or just Clue because if you tell me you wanted to some how be in a real life version of Connect Four I will lose it.”  This only made Silas laugh more, crossing his arms as he too faced the mansion. “No of course not. I can’t be a a little disc. I meant stuff like this, Clue... or Cluedo. Whatever. Not many games back then were... so dark.  And who hasn’t wanted to be an old time-y detective solving the mystery of who stabbed who? It’s fun.” Dom gave a short noise of acknowledgement as he put his phone away, waving his hand a bit to let him know to quiet down. “Where’s the man of the hour?” “The... host? I mean... You are standing outside alone I-” “No Fallon.”  He corrected. “Did he not come with you? Does he even have a car?” Silas thought for a moment before shaking his head and beginning to walk casually towards the large door, a hand written sign for the event plastered on the front. “I can’t tell you. Never saw him in a car or with... keys.  But I do know he always manages to get to wherever he needs to go so I don’t think we need to worry much. Let’s get inside you’re gonna freeze.” Dom gave a final look around before following behind, saying something about how Silas wasn’t his father and that he was older then the man. When the doors opened the cream colored walls and warmly lit inside welcomed the two men further inside, where they were met with old music, the sound of soft yet excited conversations, and the sights of people dressed just as dramatically as the two of them. Dom thanked god for that that he wasn’t the only one that seemed fit for a classy party.  “Dominooooo, Stylus how’s it going? You look uh... well Dom you just look the same as always. Sy your KILLING IT. No pun intended. Waiting to break those out later tonight.” A familiar, cracking voice rang out among the small crowd. He wasn’t hard to miss the way he was dressed. A pair of rose tinted sunglasses, hair done up in a still messy but more... functional style, and a pink floral suit that would be more fitting on a man that was at the Oscars and not a man with no job. Silas smiled wide, unintentionally crouching a bit as he took in his friends outfit. “Dude you look KILLER. Where did you find this? You look like a movie star.” He gawked, hands grabbing at the sides of Fallon’s jacket to show the satin inside. “Oh you’d be surprised what you can find lying around town. I actually had this for a while but never had a chance to use it. Might as well show up with style instead of a hoodie but it’s a bit tight around the crotch.”  His hand went down to adjust his package, earning a grunt of displeasure from Dominic.  “Fallon, how long have you exactly been here.” “Oh like two hours, way before people showed up. I walked and thought ‘oh i’ll get there a little bit early but haha, made it a record pace here. So I spent alot of time in the bathroom wiping the pit stains out.” “You are.. disgusting.” “Yeah love you too; you Triscuit flavored personality of a man. Why don’t you loosen your belt so the stick in your ass can have some breathing room and get a drink, come on they’re on the house.” Fallon teased as he nudged his head towards the counter where a bartender gave a drink to a woman in a beautiful but simple red gown. Silas patted Fallon’s shoulder and headed over there without another word, raising a finger and ordering a coke and rum while the two men stood, glaring each other down. “Yeah and before you say a word, I had a few drinks, I wanna actually remember this night. Spent the money might as well-” “Sy’s money.” “HE.... wanted to do this so yes. Sy’s money, and I intend to use SY’S money wisely and not forget this night. And don’t worry i’ve already been casing the place.  Met the guy in charge of the place our host for the night, he’s defiantly gonna die I mean, guy walks around in a suit looking like Jake Gyllenhaal, perfect bait. No one that handsome lasts for long unless they’re a psycho or gonna be a corpse by the second act. Been chatting up the others, seeing that no one else but me, the bartender and Brokeback, there’s gotta be a secret actor or two in this group of guests. My money? Black dress temptress over there.”  Fallon pointed to a woman chatting up another person, her hair put up in a short but beautiful bun, the black dress complementing her dark completion and black lipstick. “Look she even has heavy black mascara. She starts CRYING when the guy dies, ‘oh i can’t do this, it’s so tragic’, we stare feeling SORRY. Later we learn it’s a black widow kinda situation. It’ll be great.” Dom only caught half of what he was saying in all honesty, taking in the sight of the mansion, the nice furniture, what other people looked like. Fallon was probably right but he only barely understood the other half that he caught so he just gave a little nod, going to grab a drink at the bar. Just as Dom grabbed a glass of whiskey, a man stepped out  in the middle of everyone, tapping the side of his champagne class with a pen that he put back in his pocket as the music began to lower. He really did look like a Jake Gyllenhaal type. “Well from my counting, all of the guest have arrived for the evening. Welcome, to my dinner party my fellow associates. In case you’ve forgotten and by the look of some of your dazed faces, drunken stupor, I am your host for the evening, Damien White. Millionaire, world class lover...” He turned to look at the woman in the red dress at the bar and gave her a wink, to which the woman began to grow pink and look back down at her drink. “And recent constructor of the orphanage down town. And because of that great feat of my kindness upon the community, I have decided to hold a banquet with some of the good townfolk to show... I too am humble beneath the glamour and glitz, I too am one of you. Dinner has been prepared, and if you will all indulge me in coming to the dinning room we can begin this nights events.”  Damien turned around and began to walk farther back into the mansions depths, followed by the guests and the bartender who began to softly speak to each other.  Fallon looked to Silas and Dom, grabbing their attention before  dragging a thumb across his throat and giving a little gagging sound. Silas nodded, looking at Damien and how he would occasionally wave a hand towards a piece of art, generally giving off a ‘i’m better then you’ attitude, despite his kind words. Yeah no he was going to die.

[aka-willow]

One More Time

gif

Words: 1058

Characters: Willow Wren, Marty Fields, Annabel Carson

Prompt/Tag:

10. “Please don’t make me socialize.”

28. “I didn’t lose it, I just misplaced it.”

Summary: Willow deals with third-wheeling with Marty and Annabel before the dance

Timeline: December 2015

Song: Hammer to Fall - Queen

A/N: adfaadsklf this is bringing back way too many memories for comfort

—————————————————————————–

I sat with Annabel on the bleachers as we watched Marty’s playoff game before the winter dance that night, both of us freezing our butts off as we shivered on the metal seats. I took another look at the clock; there were ten minutes left in the game. Okay. I can do that. I clapped my gloved hands together. “Let’s go Marty!” They were down by three, but Marty had been killing it in midfield.

Annabel checked her phone and I saw her clicking through Snapchat. “Oh, the gymnasium looks really cool,” she said, showing me a picture.

“Oh, neat,” I said, catching a glimpse of the blue and white decorations.

“You’re going, right? Marty said you’re coming with us?”

“Yeah,” I said. “But me and a few others are sneaking out early to see The Force Awakens.”

“Why though?” asked Annabel. “Didn’t it just come out?”

“Well, we don’t want to see spoilers,” I explained. “I’ve had to be offline all day just to avoid them, which is really hard, harder than you’d think because people try to hide spoilers in memes…” I trailed off as I realized she wasn’t listening. There were now five minutes left on the clock and the coach subbed Marty out, who waved to us once he got to the sidelines.

“Oh my God,” said Annabel, suddenly, back on Snapchat. “Did you see that dashcam video of the guy throwing that cop?  Here? In NYC?”

Jessica had mentioned it to me, apparently, she knew the guy, but I hadn’t seen that the video hit mainstream social media. “Good for him,” I said. “Stick it to the man.”

“Seriously?” Annabel asked. “He threw a policeman. At his own police car.”

What… is her dad a cop or something? I always got that vibe. “Oh… I mean… it’s just cool. You know? Like… dude’s strong.”

Annabel shook her head. “My dad catches people like him,” she said, and my head jerked up to look at her. “He doesn’t tell me much since it’s like government business or whatever, but they’re dangerous.”

“Okay,” I said, just hoping to shut down the conversation. Marty, you really know how to pick ‘em. I wondered if he knew.

“I mean, don’t you agree?” Annabel asked me. “Especially after that thing with Sokovia—”

The final buzzer rang, and the game ended, Marty’s team gathering on the sidelines to celebrate even making the playoffs, and I climbed down off the bleachers to greet them. “Yes, let’s go Midtown Tigers!” I was determined to ignore Annabel, not wanting it to sour my mood. Yeah, so she hates mutants. Who doesn’t, honestly? We suck.

Marty greeted us as soon as his team disbanded, running over to us on the opposite sideline, practically leaping across the field. “That was the furthest we’ve made it in years!” he exclaimed. Annabel linked hands with him as we walked to catch the subway, and Marty replayed the game for us all the way to the platform, even though we had been there to watch it. As we boarded the train, Annabel put us on a schedule.

“Okay, so it’s four now, and the dance starts at seven, so we have three hours to get ready.” She had dropped her stuff off at our apartment last night and some people from the soccer team and Marty’s other friend group were coming over to the apartment to get ready. “And then everyone is coming at five!”

“Please don’t make me socialize,” I whispered to Marty, and he smirked.

“Oh, come on,” he whispered back. “You’ll have fun.”

We got back to the apartment late after the train was delayed. I barely had time to clean up in the bathroom and change my outfit for the dance— a long sleeve, black turtlenecked dress that hid the wings—before people started arriving. I stared at myself in the mirror before changing, trying to hype myself up. Look, you did that musical last month. Now try this. Plus, you, Peter, Ned, and Kate are leaving early, so it won’t even be that long. Still, I found myself hiding in the bathroom for a long time before finally emerging to a full living room.

“Ooh, Willow, I love your dress!” one of the girls chirped. “It’s really cute!”

“Thanks,” I managed. “Yours is really nice too. Really… blue. Fits the theme.”

I was mostly quiet as the others talked over pizza (not Dominos) and discussed drama that occurred that week at school. I texted the group chat I had with the others and counted down the minutes until we were leaving. Just think about Star Wars later. That’ll be fun.

“Has anyone seen my eyeliner pen?” Annabel called from the bathroom as she did her makeup in the mirror. “I can’t find it.”

“Lose it?” Marty asked. “Guys, has anyone seen an eyeliner pen?”

“I didn’t lose it, I just misplaced it.”

“I have one,” I offered. “Want to borrow it?”

“That would be amazing.”

I sighed and got up, opening my drawer in the bathroom to rummage through the mess and find one of my eyeliner pens, one of the cheap ones. God, it’s in here somewhere. I pulled out a hairbrush and extra toothpaste, setting those on the counter, growing self-conscious as Annabel stared down into the messy drawer. My finger grasped something metal and when Annabel looked away, I fumbled for the object and found a small flash drive nestled among my hair ties. Jesus. I gotta get more organized. I slipped the flashdrive into the one pocket on my dress and finally found the eyeliner.

“Here,” I said, holding it up. “Sorry it took so long.”

“We ready to go?” one of the guys called from the other room. “Should we start calling Ubers?”

“I’ll be right out,” Annabel yelled, and I forced myself to not cover my ears when she did so. “I’ll give this right back,” she told me. “If you wanna grab your jacket and things.”

Getting Marty’s friends all out of the door on time was almost impossible, as the one guy who wore a tie kept asking for help to fix it, and one girl’s eyeliner just wasn’t even as she kept trying to fix it. But finally, finally, we were on our way, and I texted the others to let them know.

[sandyferal]

The Vacation part 5

A short part that was supposed to be an intro and then just turned into a few pages so I decided to just post it.

Don’t commit any major crimes. Don’t be recognized. That was the objective. At least for the first few days. Of course that objective was much easier in a town where the police weren’t called every time a citizen saw them outside of their hideouts.

After about an hour of bickering, and after they recruited the two mutants in their mission to swipe a decent amount of money without drawing too much attention, Quackerjack and Megavolt decided on a hotel room to stay in, which would become their base of operations.

“Are we all going to be staying here though?” Megavolt asked once they arrived at the room. “This place only has two beds.”

The group all looked at each other. After a moment Quackerjack finally cracked, letting out a snicker, and they all burst out into laughter.

“Right!” Quackerjack said, cackling with laughter. “As if any of us care about that!”

“Aside from Megavolt’s aquaphobia, eight times out of ten the fearsome four has no problem invading each other’s privacy or personal space!” Liquidator said, still chuckling.

“Not as if any of us have something to hide right?” Bushroot said, though he had a nervous edge to his laughter.

“The Liquidator has nothing to hide! Even if I tried to hide something, in this close proximity you could see right through me!” At this a grinning Liquidator gestured to his clear body and elbowed Bushroot lightly, causing the plant to grimace at the pun.

“Well, enough about where we’re going to sleep, what are we going to do first?” Quackerjack asked, rubbing his hands together.

“Well remember,” Bushroot began. “We can’t-”

“Yeah, yeah, no big crimes, no wearing my costume, I get it! You don’t have to tell me a million times.” Quackerjack pouted. “What do you think I am, insane?”

Bushroot shot a glance at Liquidator who gave a small shrug in response.

“Ok, we all know he is, but I think he gets the idea,” Megavolt said.

“Yeah, there’s gotta be some fun we can have in this place. At there very least I’m going off to get some new clothes, the stuff I nabbed off that tourist is so boring,” Quackerjack said, tugging at his shirt and sticking out his tongue.

“I’d love to go out, just to do anything.” Bushroot sighed. “Unfortunately I don’t think it’d go over very well without a good disguise.”

“I have to side with Reggie here!” Liquidator said. “Only half of our group is able to blend in with the average citizens of this city! And though the Liquidator can easily navigate undetected, the walking plant may be a little harder to miss.”

“That’s fine!” Quackerjack, said, jumping up. “You two can wait here while I grab us all some new outfits! Never a bad time for a shopping spree!” He grabbed Megavolt by the arm and dragged him to the door. “C’mon Sparky!”

“Why do I have to come?” Megavolt protested

“Do you want me to pick out all your clothes for you all on my own?”

“Oh. Good point,” Megavolt conceded as he was dragged out the door.

“Uh, are we just going to let a jester, and the guy who straps a battery to his bad pick out our clothing?” Bushroot asked once the pair were gone.

“Actually, I can get around in nothing but a water bottle if I need to,” Liquidator said. “I think you’re the one who’s going to have to rely on those two to dress you.”

Bushroot sighed. “Great. So much for people not staring at me.”

…

It was almost three and a half hours later when Megavolt and Quackerjack walked back into the hotel room.

Bushroot was lying on the floor in a patch of sun from the open window, but immediately sat up when the two returned. “What took you two so long?”

“He got distracted,” Megavolt said. He paused before amending his statement. “We both got distracted.”

“How distracted?” Bushroot asked, his eyes darting to one of the bags.

“Don’t worry Petalhead, I said we’d get you clothes, we got you some clothes.” Quackerjack tossed one of the bags in Bushroot’s direction and let out a giggle when it smacked into the unsuspecting plant in the face. “I tried my best but it might not fit, I’m not sure most stores carry clothes in twig size.”

“Harhar,” Bushroot said dryly as he opened the bag.

“Hey where’s Liquidator?” Megavolt asked.

“Trying to map out his way through the plumbing,” Bushroot replied. “Turn on the sink and he should be back soon.”

Megavolt glanced at Bushroot, then at a nearby sink. Reaching over very cautiously, Megavolt pushed one of the sink’s handles, then scampered a few steps back as the water started flowing. Sure enough, the water soon began to form the Liquidator’s familiar shape.

“The Liquidator can work well in most conditions,” Liquidator said and he turned off the water and stepped out of the sink. “Which is why I didn’t feel the need to input any requirements when we were choosing a place to spend our time away from home.” The watery dog shook himself slightly, causing Megavolt to flinch. “In retrospect a place with a cleaner plumbing system would have been nice.”

“Yuck! I can imagine.” Quackerjack’s face scrunched up at the idea.

“So is there a reason that trip took so long or…?” Liquidator gestured to Quackerjack.

“While we were out we thought we’d get a few other things,” Megavolt said.

At this, Quackerjack pulled out another back and dumped it on the floor. About a dozen toys spilled out.

“Oh of course,” Liquidator said.

“We’ll all my own toys are still in Saint Canard,” Quackerjack said. “I’ve gotta entertain myself somehow.”

“I thought you only liked your own toys,” Bushroot said.

“Yeah for the most part.” Quackerjack picked up one of the toys on the floor and violently ripped its head off so he could peer inside. “But without the proper tools it’s better to use parts from these than start from scratch.”

Bushroot gulped. “Right. And I assume you’ll be buying knives and gunpowder next.”

“That’d be ideal, but if I can’t get those I know how to improvise.”

Bushroot had no idea what that meant and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Trying to distract himself from those confusing thoughts, Bushroot opened the bag to inspect the clothes Quackerjack had bought for him.

There were actually a decent variety of tops and bottoms in there, and to Bushroot’s surprise, most of them didn’t look too bad. When he looked at them all, he actually found himself thinking that he might actually have picked out some of this himself. There was the standard trench coat and hat, a turtleneck sweater, a jacket with a flower pattern on it, a couple of hats, and even a lab coat.

“Wow, you actually brought back some wearable stuff,” Bushroot mused, more to himself than to Quackerjack.

“Yeah. What’d you think I’d bring you?” Quackerjack asked.

“I don’t know. I-I guess I just didn’t think you’d get me stuff I might wear. I didn’t think you’d actually know what I liked.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Quackerjack said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “For your information, I can guess what you like. You’re not exactly the closed off type, and I pay attention a little. I don’t know why you’re surprised that I actually tried to get you stuff you’d like.”

Bushroot smiled, mostly just relieved that he wouldn’t look like-well- like a clown. “Th-thanks for-”

“Besides I’ve had to buy stuff for Sparky before, I know a little bit about shopping for a huge nerd!” Quackerjack said.

Bushroot’s smile disappeared. “Gee, thanks.”

“I also got you this!”

Quackerjack plopped down a large brown pot in front of him, causing the plant to flinch.

“You got me a flower pot?” Bushroot asked.

“Yeah, so you could plant yourself,” Quackerjack said. “Y’know, for when you sleep.”

“I don’t sleep in a flower pot...” Bushroot said. “But, uh, thanks. I’m sure I’ll find some use for it.”

“You’re welcome Bushbrain,” Quackerjack responded with a smirk.

Even the insulting nickname and the smug look of Quackerjack’s face couldn’t get rid of the small bit of happiness that lingered in Bushroot’s mind afterwards at the thought that the insane duck seemed to actually cared about him, at least a tiny bit.

[jouska-the-deer]

A Short Quiz

Chapter 24: A Thoughtful Gift

Glass doors gently shut behind Amy as she slowly stepped forward, making her way further into the community center she received directions to a week ago. In her hands was a small box covered in shiny red wrapping paper that was neatly tied together with a yellow ribbon. On the top, there was a tiny label reading “to Sonic, from Amy.” The ‘to’ and ‘from’ were already printed on the label, while the names were written in easy-to-read cursive with a red pen. Above the “i” in Sonic’s name was a little heart instead of a dot.

In stark contrast to the near emptiness in the lobby, the liveliness of a party could be heard through a set of doors to her right, so Amy made her way over. Just before she pressed on the metal bar that would allow the door to open, Amy took a deep breath, noticing that her heart was racing. “It’ll be fine,” she quietly assured herself. “I’m sure he’ll love it, even if it’s nothing fancy…” Her arm gently nudged the bar, her feet refusing to push further. “Maybe I should also get him another gift. He is my boyfriend now, so-” Suddenly, a jumble of thoughts raced through her mind.

‘Wait, he never actually said he was my boyfriend now. It kind of sounded like it, but I don’t think he made it anything official. Would he even be comfortable if I brought it up around people? I can’t exactly ask him now, though. But what if-’

Suddenly, the door swung open, a burst of noise flooding through.

“There you are! I was wondering when you were gonna show up!”

Amy’s heart pounded, taken by surprise not only by the onslaught of movement and noise, but the sight of Sonic happily smiling as he looked down at the gift in her hands.

“Cool, you got me something. Well, I guess that’s kind of expected at my birthday party, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

“Uh, huh.”

Sonic gave her a confused look.

“Well uh, anyway, there’s a gift table over by the corner. You can set it down there while you go chat with everyone. Manic and Sonia are opening their gifts first, then I’ll open mine- Oh!” Sonic smiled widely. “I’ll have to introduce you to them! And my mom. But first, how about I show you where the table is?”

“...Okay.”

Another confused look, then Sonic was by Amy’s side with an arm on her back gently nudging her forward.

“It’s over here,” he said, both of them making their way through a bunch of familiar and unfamiliar faces. Cheeks growing redder, Amy couldn’t stop thinking about Sonic’s hand on her back, or the whole boyfriend/girlfriend situation. Since the middle of a birthday party wasn’t exactly the best time or place to talk about it, she tried pushing the subject out of her mind.

Once the gift table was in sight, Amy felt a small amount of relief, mostly from Sonic no longer holding his hand on her back. As nice as it was, it still made her heart race faster than she could handle at the moment.

Knuckles was leaning on the wall to the left of the gifts, glancing at them occasionally while chatting to Espio.

“Just set it with the rest.” Sonic gestured to the stack of presents on the right side of the table, and Amy promptly set his gift down with the others. To the left, Amy could see another stack of presents mostly covered in elegant wrapping paper and ribbon, and past that a smaller stack of gifts that looked more cheaply decorated, but equally wrapped with care. In both piles were a couple odd gifts out that looked wrapped in more moderately priced looking decorations. Amy hummed with curiosity, the party drowning out the sound.

“Alright! Stay right here for a sec. I’ve gotta find everyone before I can introduce you to them. I’ll be right back.” Instantly, Sonic was out of sight.

With a glance back to the left wall, Amy noticed that Espio walked away, leaving Knuckles alone while he continued looking at the gift table. She walked over.

“Hi, Knuckles.”

“Hey, Amy! It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you.”

“It has. Anything new happen on Angel Island?”

“Not really. Well, Rouge has been trying to take the chaos emerald I hid, but she’s definitely not finding it anytime soon. Other than that, it’s been peaceful as always.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Amy couldn’t help but notice that Knuckles was continuing to glance at the presents every so often.

“So, what are you doing?”

“Guarding the gift table.”

“...Why?”

“Uh…” Knuckles scratched his head, looking down in thought for a second. “Well, I’m not sure if I should be telling you this, but there is someone here that could steal them.”

“Rouge?” Amy asked.

“Maybe. Sonia’s gifts do look like something she’d like, but I don’t think even she would sink low enough to steal somebody’s birthday presents for fun.”

That was the only thief Amy could think of that would be at the party.

“Then… who?”

Again, Knuckles looked down in thought, an uneasy expression on his face.

“Well, don’t go telling everyone this, but it’s mostly Manic that I have to worry about.”

“Manic? Isn’t he Sonic’s brother? Why would he want to steal the presents?”

“Sonic said he’s kind of got a problem where he feels like he needs to steal stuff. But he also said not to worry about it too much because he’d probably return everything if he was caught. His friends don’t have very clean records either, but Sonic said he knows they wouldn’t do anything.”

“If he said you don’t have to worry about it, then why are you here?”

“It would sorta sour the mood if people heard about someone trying to steal presents, and I’m just here to make sure nothing messes up the party.”

“But, don’t you find it boring?”

“I’m doing fine. Plus, everyone keeps coming over to me to talk. I’m still having a great time.”

“Well, okay…”

Knuckles began to look concerned.

“...Uh, just ignore what I said about Manic and his friends. I’ve met Manic, and he means well, even if he looks pretty shady. I’m sure his friends are nice too. Sonic probably wouldn’t have helped organize this whole thing if that wasn’t the case.”

“Um, alright.”

Amy suddenly felt a quick tap on her shoulder. Her heart raced again as she turned around.

“Sorry that it took so long. I can’t exactly rush through the crowd without running into someone. I know where Sonia, Manic, and my mom are now.”

“Okay.”

Sonic’s ears lowered a bit.

“Are you, doing alright? You’re kinda not saying much…”

Putting on a smile, Amy nodded her head.

“Sorry. I’m just, spacing out a bit. I’m fine, though.”

“Alright... Say something if you need anything, okay?”

Amy nodded again.

“Cool. Now, follow me. You’ve gotta meet everyone.”

After Amy waved ‘goodbye’ to Knuckles, they both began to make their way through the crowd. Every few seconds, Sonic would look behind him to make sure Amy was still there.

“Just a little further. They said they’d stay over by the snack tables for a bit.”

Sure enough, as the tables came into view, so did a group of three hedgehogs that fit the vague descriptions Sonic gave Amy a while before the party. Sonic walked ahead.

“Hey guys! This is- Amy.”

Sonic’s sentence dropped awkwardly in the middle like he was about to say something but didn’t. He quickly gestured in her direction as she walked closer. Amy waved.

“I’m Sonic’s sister, Sonia. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The dark pink hedgehog stepped forward, extending her hand. As she shook it, Amy immediately noticed her firm handshake, along with her long, lavish, purple gloves. Her whole outfit was fancy. She appeared to be wearing a short dress divided into two colors. The red top half was sleeveless and open backed to accommodate her quills, while the bottom was purple and ended around her mid thighs. Dividing the two halves was a golden belt with a small oval-shaped white gemstone in the center.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Amy replied. Sonia had the same green eyes that Sonic had, and a similarly shaped but slightly shorter nose too. Some of her quills appeared to be pulled forward to form bangs, similar to Amy’s, though they were longer and fuller.

As Sonia stepped back, the light green hedgehog that was standing next to her pointed to himself with his thumb.

“I’m Manic,” he said with a grin, “Sonic’s brother.”

He was similar to Sonic in appearance, in that he had a bare peach chest and long head quills, though the similarities ended there. Like Sonia, he had some of his quills sticking out to form bangs, but they were very messy. His eyes were gold in color, similar to the two piercings in his left ear. For attire, he wore a loose red vest, white gloves with black spiked wristbands, and red shoes with white tips and laces. Amy briefly thought to herself that Manic looked like someone you’d see in a punk rock band.

“Hi,” she said, waving to him cheerfully.

Suddenly, a familiar voice could be heard through the crowd.

“Sonic!”

He looked up, seeing Tails flying above everybody while trying to get his attention.

“Uh, keep talking,” Sonic said quickly, “I’ll probably be back soon.”

With that, he disappeared again.

When Amy returned her focus to Sonic’s siblings and mother, she noticed the remaining lavender colored hedgehog calmly stepping forward.

“Hello. My name is Aleena. I’m Sonic’s mom.”

Like Sonia, she too had bangs, but they were longer and kept out of her face with a gold-colored headband. Aleena’s quills were noticeably long, their length reaching well below her waist. Her eyes were golden like Manic’s and her nose was the same shape as Sonia’s.

“Hi. It’s great to finally meet you.”

When it came to Aleena’s outfit, it stood out against Manic and Sonia’s in that, it didn’t really stand out. While Sonia’s clothes looked very regal and Manic’s very punk, Aleena’s looked more plain and unassuming. An off-white long-sleeved turtleneck shirt and a long white skirt. Her outfit did have some nice looking accessories though. Along with her gold headband, was a gold necklace, bracelets, and a yellow belt.

“So, how long have you known Sonic?” Aleena asked.

“I’ll place a bet on eight years,” Manic commented.

“Nobody would be foolish enough to bet against you on that,” Sonia replied.

Amy stood in surprise for a moment. “How’d you know?”

“Easy,” Manic said. “Pretty much everyone we’ve asked said they’ve met him around seven or eight years ago, and since Sonic talks about you like you’re one of his oldest friends, it’s obvious it’s been eight.”

“Oh.” Amy looked back to Aleena. “Why did you want to know?”

“Well, to be honest, none of us have any idea what his life was like before he became famous, and he won’t tell us.”

“Really? That’s kind of strange…”

“I’m assuming you know nothing either?”

“No. I’ve never really thought about it. All I know about is that he didn’t meet you guys until a few years ago. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure he’ll tell us one day.”

Manic crossed his arms. “Or he’ll just keep trying to be all mysterious while leaving us in the dark.”

“Stop being so pessimistic,” Sonia scolded.

“I’m just saying, it’s kinda freaky how nobody knows what happened to him between eight and fifteen. Not even his best friend. It’s like he’s trying to hide something.”

“Wait. ‘Eight and fifteen’?” Amy said. “What happened when he was eight?”

“He ran from our foster home after Manic was adopted,” Sonia answered. “He was still too fast to chase after, even when he was young, so it’s not like anyone could stop him from leaving. We know he took flying lessons at fourteen, but before then, nothing.”

Aleena sighed. “I shouldn’t be asking you about his life anyway. There’s probably a good reason why he won’t say anything, and I really should respect that. It’s just… it would be nice to know how he was all those years. I may not have been there most of his life, but I still want to know if he was okay.”

Amy stood in thought for a moment, trying to think of something meaningful to say.

“Well… I’m sure he’ll talk about it someday. It may take a little time, but he’ll open up to you if you’re patient with him. He doesn’t like sharing personal stuff too much, so he’ll only talk if he’s comfortable.”

Sonia chuckled. “It sounds to me like you have personal experience with that.”

Cheeks becoming bright red, Amy tried coming up with a response. “W-Well- you know- I’ve been his friend for a while, so- so um…”

“I’m back!”

Sonic slipped out of the crowd back into the sight of Amy and his family. “Did I miss anything good?”

“Not really, but I think we have,” Manic said with a smirk. “It seems like you and Amy are a lot closer than you made it sound.”

“Uh… what?”

“D-Don’t worry about it!” Amy blurted out. “I-It’s not like what he’s making it sound like! He- he’s taking stuff out of- out of context! I- I mean unless- I mean- u-uh…” With her breaths heavy and cheeks red, Amy’s physical state wasn’t helping her with whatever argument she was trying to make.

“You alright, Amy?” Sonic asked, paying no attention to his siblings.

“Huh? Um, yes. Yes. I’m fine. I just… I need something to drink. Like, water.”

“We’ve only got sugary stuff in here, I can help you to the water fountain in the hall if you want.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay, just, follow me.”

Amy turned to Sonia, Manic, and Aleena and waved ‘bye’ as Sonic led her back through the crowd.

Once they were at the set of double doors leading into the hallway, Sonic opened a door for her.

“You should be able to see it from here,” Sonic said as he pointed down the hall.

Sure enough, Amy was able to see the water fountain as she stepped into the hallway.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“Hey! Sonic!” another voice called from the crowd.

Sonic glanced behind him for a second, then back at Amy.

“I could just ignore him for now, and just wait until you’re back.”

With a gentle smile, Amy nudged him back into the party.

“Go. It’s your birthday party, your friends are going to want to talk to you.”

“You sure? I wouldn’t mind waiting here for you.”

“Sonic! Over here!” the voice called again.

“I’m sure.”

“Alright…”

Sonic stepped back into the party as Amy began moving closer to the water fountain. Once the door closed and Sonic was out of sight, she leaned back against the wall with a relieved sigh.

The confusion behind how Sonic saw their relationship loomed above her at all times, and his family bringing the subject up didn’t help to ease her mind. What also didn't help is that they had to bring it up while Sonic was around, possibly making him uncomfortable. Now she wasn't even sure if it would be a good idea to be near him with other people around, considering there was always the risk of someone figuring out that something was up and trying to get them to talk about it. She knew she had to talk to Sonic regarding everything soon, but for now, she’d just have to remain in the dark.

With a deep breath, Amy opened the doors and walked into the party again. Instead of walking back into the crowd, she stayed beside the walls as she looked for somebody more familiar to talk to. Hopefully, someone that wouldn’t question her and Sonic’s relationship.

“Amy! Long time no see.”

She looked up, noticing Vector hanging out in the corner with a can of soda.

“Hi, Vector. It has been a while, huh?”

“Yeah. How have you been?”

“Great! How about you, and the detective agency?”

“Good and good. Great for the second one, actually.” Vector began to pull something out of his hammerspace. “Look, we’ve got new business cards!” He held up the card to Amy, which had a phone number neatly typed on it along with other forms of contact.

“Cool.”

“You can keep it if you want, I’ve got plenty.”

“Oh, thanks,” she said as she took the card from him. “So, you’ve been getting more cases then?”

“Yep! Cards aren’t the only things we’ve got letting everyone know we exist. Espio set up a website, and now we’ve got people from all over asking for help! Sometimes the police will even give us a call when they’re stumped on something.”

“That’s impressive.”

“What’s more impressive is all the money we’ve been getting from all these cases! I’ve been getting enough to get my landlord to stop complaining and then some!”

“Vector,” Espio said to get his attention, appearing out of nowhere and surprising Amy. Vector didn’t seem fazed whatsoever.

“What’s up?”

“Charmy is about to drink ten cans of soda and he won’t listen when I tell him he shouldn’t.”

“What?! Why does he want to do that?!”

“I’m not sure, but I think someone may have dared him.”

“Ugh. I’ll get to the bottom of this.” Vector turned to Amy. “I’ve gotta go. Give me a call if you need something!”

“Okay. Bye.”

Quickly, Vector and Espio stormed off to put an end to whatever Charmy got into. Amy was about to continue walking along the wall, but curiosity got the best of her and she began toward the snack area to see what was going on.

Sure enough, Charmy was there chugging a can of soda, with Vector trying and failing to take it away from him. His ability to fly definitely made Vector’s efforts more difficult, but thankfully, Tails was able to fly up and take it from him.

“Well, his behavior sure hasn’t seemed to have changed at all,” Amy commented to herself. “But he definitely looks a lot older than when I last saw him…”

“You sound a lot older when you say that,” Cream abruptly commented closeby. Amy jumped in surprise.

“Cream?! When did you get here?”

“I’ve been at the party the whole time.” She chuckled. “I’ve been standing here longer than you too.”

“Huh. I must not have noticed.” Then, Amy crossed her arms. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘I sound older’?”

“I’m just saying. Usually, it’s somebody’s grandparents that talk about how big kids have gotten.”

Amy was silent for a moment. “Still, I haven’t seen him for years, so I’m allowed to say that.”

“I know. I just think it’s funny.”

They both watched as Charmy flew down with crossed arms and a pout, getting an earful of Vector telling him how sick he could have gotten if he drank any more.

“I wonder why he did it,” Amy pondered.

“I’m sure Vector will find out eventually. Maybe you could ask him once he does.”

“Yeah.”

Cream turned her attention to Amy.

“So, has Sonic figured out his feelings yet, or are you guys still awkwardly saying nothing about what happened.”

Amy stood frozen for a moment, not expecting that question so abruptly. Since she still wasn’t even sure if Sonic considered her his girlfriend, she didn’t have a good answer. “Um, well, I um…” Plus, they technically resolved the whole kissing thing, but again, nothing was official, and Amy had no clue if Sonic wanted anyone knowing about what happened the night before. “Um…”

“Amy?”

“Um, the noise… it’s… making it hard to think.”

Cream crossed her arms and smirked. “Sure it is,” she remarked sarcastically. “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or will I have to guess?”

“I… don’t know.”

“Alright everyone!” Tails called from above. The room became slightly quieter. “Sonic, Manic, and Sonia will be opening their gifts now. Walk over to the gift table if you want to watch. Make sure to leave them some space though.”

Amy tried to slip away but was caught by Cream immediately.

“Where are you going?” she asked incriminatingly.

“Um, to the… gift table.”

“You mean the one that’s that way,” she said while pointing in a completely different direction to where Amy was headed. Amy chuckled nervously.

“Whoops. Heh heh, forgot where it was.”

“While everyone was walking to the same place?” Cream asked rhetorically.

“...Yes?”

Cream rolled her eyes and stepped over to Amy.

“What’s going on with you? And be honest this time.”

Amy whined quietly but complied.

“I… don’t know what’s going on between me and Sonic. Let’s just say, some stuff happened, things are a little different, and I’m not sure how Sonic is feeling about everything right now.”

Cream tilted her head. “He seemed pretty fine when I saw him today.”

“It’s complicated.” Amy sighed and looked away. “Also, I’m a little worried that he won’t like my gift…”

“Why wouldn’t he? Didn’t you put a lot of work into it?”

“Yeah, but… I mean… I feel like I should have done more. It’s not really that much…”

“Amy, I’m sure he’ll love it.” Reassuringly placing a hand on Amy’s shoulder, she hoped she could get her point across. It didn’t appear to be working, though.

“I’m sorry, but, you don’t understand. I… I can’t explain it though, but, it was too late to get him another gift, a better one, but I feel like I should have. I can’t say why, but, well, I think I owe him a gift more special now, and, um…” Amy looked at Cream, who appeared deep in thought. “Cream?”

“Are…” She paused for a moment but continued. “Are you two, together now?”

“What?!” Amy’s cheeks went bright red and she backed away. “What makes you- I mean- why do- how-” Ears back, posture more closed off, breathing heavy, she again wasn’t doing a great job of conveying what she wanted.

Quickly, Cream walked forward to calm her. “It’s okay. I’ll keep it a secret if that’s what you’re worried about.

“I- I- Well, he um-” Lost for words, Amy completely gave up at trying to continue whatever her scrambled thoughts were trying to say. She let out a defeated whine.

“Amy,” Cream put her hands on Amy’s shoulders, “Sonic will love your gift, and everything will be sorted out with you two eventually. You guys will just have to keep talking to each other, alright?”

Amy nodded.

“Good.” Cream looked at the guests gathering near the corner of the room, where one of the triplets had begun unwrapping gifts. “Let’s go watch them, okay? Everything will be fine.”

With a deep breath, Amy tried to calm her nerves, managing to do so a small amount. With a nod, they both made their way to gift table.

The crowd was very compact, so they had a difficult time making any progress in reaching the front where they could easily see. Cream offered to hold Amy above the crowd so she could watch the siblings unwrap, but Amy refused, stating that she didn’t want to be seen by Sonic. Once again, Cream insisted everything would be fine, but Amy was adamant at hiding this time. Reluctantly, Cream chose to fly above Amy so she could see while Amy would simply listen to what was being said through a microphone that was set up at the gift table.

Sonia unwrapped her gifts first, politely thanking everyone who gave her something. Next was Manic, who did the same, but in less formal manner.

When it was Sonic’s turn to open gifts, a looming feeling of dread was held over Amy with every consecutive present he opened. Each gift was one more gift closer to Amy’s, and she had no idea when he’d get to hers. She kept her head low as he read out his friends’ names and thanked them for the gifts, holding her breath each time she heard him pause to grab another present.

“Alright. This one’s from… Amy!”

She felt dizzy for a moment as her name was called, her head sinking lower.

“Where is she, anyway? Amy?”

“Over here!” everyone heard from above. Amy looked up in horror at Cream, who so willingly gave away where she was.

The crowd parted a small amount so Amy could make her way to the front to watch Sonic unwrap her gift. Feeling obligated to, she nervously stepped forward.

“What’s up? How’ve you… been.” Sonic’s smile faded as he saw the timid behavior Amy was displaying. He set the gift back down and walked over to her.

“Amy,” he said softly, “are you alright?”

She looked away. “I’m, okay,” she quietly responded.

Sonic tapped on her shoulder, getting her to look at him. “I don’t know what’s going on, but try to cheer up, alright? It’s a birthday party. We’re supposed to be happy.”

“...Okay.”

Smiling to lighten the mood, Sonic managed to get her to smile as well. “See. That’s the spirit.” He jogged back over to the gift table, picking up her gift once again and beginning to open it.

Once the yellow ribbon and shiny red paper were removed, he opened the box to get a look at what was inside. Once he did, he could really tell the hard work that went into its creation. It wasn’t something bought from a store, it was a lot more personal and thoughtfully crafted.

What he found inside was a bracelet, comprised of many unique little trinkets attached to a sturdy white string. Each trinket was red in color and shaped like one of his favorite things. There was one shaped like a chili dog, another like a guitar, another like a flower, another like a pair of his favorite running shoes, and the list could go on for a while. From what Sonic could tell, they were all made from a type of sturdy plastic that was red itself, instead of painted that way. For a moment he wondered how Amy created them, but then figured he could ask her later. In between each trinket were a few normal beads, which complimented the rest of the bracelet.

Sonic looked from the gift to Amy, his smile fading a small amount. She was looking away, appearing to be upset about something. Looking back down at the bracelet, Sonic’s smile grew again.

Amy felt a tap on her shoulder, soon noticing Sonic standing in front of her with a gentle smile.

“Thanks, Amy,” he said with a thumbs up, revealing the bracelet around his wrist. “It looks great!”

“I-I’m glad you like it,” she quietly said as her cheeks went red.

With that, Sonic walked back to the table, grabbing the next gift to open.

Cream flew down and landed near Amy, giving her shoulder a nudge.

“I told you he’d love it.”

“Y-Yeah.”

They continued to watch Sonic open gifts until he was done, then separated afterward. Cream went off to find more people to chat with, and Amy went back to sticking near the walls and talking to any familiar faces she saw. This went on for a while, and she had the chance to talk to many people she hadn’t seen for ages. She had a pleasant conversation with Blaze and Silver before feeling a little parched, heading to the snack table again afterward. Thankfully, it appeared that Sonia, Manic, and Aleena were no longer standing where they were when she last talked to them, so she wouldn’t have to worry about them seeing her as she went to get a drink.

As Amy reached into the cooler sitting on the floor for a can of cherry soda, she overheard a conversation going on not too far away from her. Both voices were familiar. One of them made her freeze.

“Have ya seen Amy anywhere around here? I can’t seem to find her for some reason.”

“I think I saw her talking to Silver a little while ago, but other than that, no. Sorry, Sonic.”

“That’s alright, Tails. I’m sure I’ll find her eventually.”

“Want me to fly up and see if I can spot her?”

A jolt of fear ran through Amy’s head, causing her to dive under the closeby table in a panic to evade Sonic’s sights. Thankfully, the tablecloth covering it stretched pretty far down, leaving only a couple inch gap between the fabric and ground. She heard Sonic pause before giving an answer.

“I think I’ll be able to find her myself. Thanks anyway.”

“No problem. See you later.”

“Later Tails.”

Amy tried her best to keep her breathing and heart rate under control as she set her can of soda down and lowered her head to the floor, trying to see out of the small gap under the cloth’s edge. She saw the familiar set of red shoes on the floor making their way to the snack table, causing Amy to panic once again. Sonic went to the cooler, the sound of ice being pushed around for a moment before he was moving again. What Amy expected was for him to just walk away with his drink, but of course, that didn’t happen. Instead, those red shoes made their way to the back of the table, the side facing the close by wall.

Everything that’s happened in Amy’s life told her to expect the unexpected, but even then, she couldn’t have possibly expected to hear a couple knocks on the table leg. She looked over at the noise, seeing the tablecloth lifted a small amount so Sonic could peek under.

“Mind if I join you?”

Amy shook her head, partly frozen as Sonic slid under the table with her.

Sonic’s voice was soft, but still loud enough to be heard by Amy despite the noise of the party.

“Heh. I haven’t hidden under a table like this since I was a kid. Feels cozy in here.”

All Amy could do was nod, finding no words for what was going on. She focused on the can of root beer in Sonic set down by his feet, not feeling the strength to look at his face at the moment.

Sonic let a little time pass, Amy’s heavy breathing and pounding heart relaxing in the meantime. Once she looked up at his face, he gave her a calm smile.

“Have you talked to Blaze yet? I heard you talked to Silver and wondered if you got the chance before the party’s over.”

She nodded.

“That’s good. Have you been having fun?”

She nodded again.

“Great.”

It went quiet again. Sonic lowered his head and looked away awkwardly as Amy did the same. A distressed sigh left Sonic’s lips as he began fidgeting, absentmindedly occupying his hands while he tried thinking of something else to say. He glanced down at his hands, his attention being caught by what he’d been doing.

Instead of picking at the fabric of his glove and causing it to wear like usual, he was rolling one of the beads of his bracelet around its section of string. He let out a silent laugh, continuing to look over the gift.

“Thanks again for the bracelet, Amy. I really like it.”

Amy turned her head to look at Sonic, opening her mouth to say something, but shutting it soon after. Sonic looked at her again with a soft smile.

“You know a lot more about me now. It’s hard to believe that, not too long ago, I was mad at how little you seemed to know about me.” Moving the can of root beer off to the side, Sonic pulled himself a little closer to Amy. “I’m really glad you took the time to get to know me, and I’m glad that I got to learn more about you too. It’s been a lot of fun.”

Amy began to smile a small amount, her cheeks showing a hint of blush. Sonic continued.

“Amy… I know you’ve been trying to avoid me since after you talked to Sonia and Manic, and I just want you to know that I care about you a lot. There’s nothing that could change my mind. Okay?”

A shaky breath left Amy’s lips, and she nodded.

“And you know that you can tell me if something’s wrong, right?”

“...Yeah.”

“And, you know I’d do everything I can to help?”

“Y-Yeah. I know.”

“So… why have you been avoiding me?”

Bringing her head down, Amy turned away again. Sonic placed his hand on her shoulder, feeling her hand on his arm a moment after. Amy’s hand slid up until it was at Sonic’s shoulder, and they pulled each other into an embrace. Slowly, Sonic rubbed Amy’s back as she released a shaky breath.

“I- I just- Are we-? I don’t-”

Her words ended, leaving the air only filled with the background noise of the party. Sonic’s cheek rubbed against Amy’s as he briefly leaned up to plant a kiss on her forehead.

“It’s alright Amy. Just take a sec to figure out what you wanna say. I don’t mind.”

The arms around him held a little tighter. After a moment to breathe, and think, Amy spoke again.

“I don’t know… how you see our relationship. I didn’t want to assume you felt the same way as me… that you wanted it to be something serious.” Amy paused, the hands rubbing her back helping to soothe her mind somewhat. “I didn’t know if you’d want me next to you around other people. I… I didn’t want to risk ruining whatever we have so soon. I don’t…”

Sonic heard Amy inhale with a shudder. He leaned back to look at her directly, noticing that she looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Amy…”

“I don’t- I don’t want you to break up with me before I know if we’re even really together.”

“Amy.” Sonic pulled her into a hug again, trying his best to console her as she tried her best not to cry. “I’m not going to leave you. I’ve said it already, but I care about you a lot, and I really mean it.” Hearing a relieved sigh, he pulled back to see Amy’s face again. “And… about the relationship thing…” Sonic took a moment to think.

“You want to be my girlfriend, right?” Amy nodded. “And I want to be your boyfriend, so we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. Does that help clear things up a little?” She nodded again, this time with a smile. “Good.”

The noise of someone reaching into the cooler reminded them of where they were.

“Look, I uh, I know we need to talk about this stuff a bit more, but if I don’t get back to the party people are gonna start wondering where I am.” Amy lowered her head, but Sonic gently raised it again with a couple fingers on her chin. “How about you meet me by the front entrance after the party’s over? We can sort some stuff out there. Sound good?” With a couple nods from Amy, Sonic smiled. “Cool. I’m gonna get back to the party, I’ll see you later.”

Sonic pushed himself back and grabbed his soda, turning to leave the way he entered, before stopping a moment.

“Actually…” He looked back at Amy. “Would you… uh, could I…” His cheeks went red. “Geez, this was easier yester- I mean technically, earlier today. Heh heh.” Amy tilted her head, and Sonic scratched his quills. “Could we, kiss? Maybe? Before I head back?”

Amy blushed as much as Sonic. “O-Of course.”

“Okay, cool.” Sonic took a breath, leaning forward and sharing a kiss with Amy. The corners of his mouth couldn’t help but curl into a smile before he pulled away. “L-Later. Amy.”

Sonic peeked under the cloth and then crawled out, walking away and merging into the crowd like he was there the whole time. Soon after, Amy crawled out as well, feeling a little better, but still confused about many things.

[askmyboys]

The Family (their not ACTUALLY related tho I’llexplainintextshh)

Names: Luke, Alan, Scott, and Wyatt | Genders: Male | Ages: Unknown | Heights: Luke is 7'3", Alan is 5'0", Scott is 6'2", and Wyatt is 7'1" | Species/Race: Human | Hair Colors: Alan's hair is Peanut Brown (his hairstyle is Tapered Sides + Messy Comb Over),  Luke's hair is pitch black (his hair style is fairly lengthy, curly/stringy and honestly it looks very scraggly, it looks like he barely e v e r combs it or anything), Scott's hair color is Ginger (his hairstyle is: Shaved Sides + Long Parted Hair), and finally Wyatt's hair color is Hickory Brown (his hairstyle is Cool Textured Thick Hair + Short Sides) | Eye Colors: Alan's is Denim Blue, Scott's is Forest Green, Luke's is Seal Gray, and finally Wyatt's eye color is Charcoal Black (their eye colors are mostly the way they are because of the colors meanings) | Appearances: Let's start off with Alan... he usually wears sweaters, turtlenecks or hoodies most of the time- complete opposite to the others for sure, he'll wear some ripped jeans to go along with them and some regular boots, nothing TOO fancy- he just likes the comfy feeling of sweaters/turtlenecks/hoodies n such mostly, he does wear them bc of that but also to cover up all his scars- I'm going to get this out of the way already, all of them wear animal masks tbh- Alan's mask is a mouse, Scott's mask is a bull, Luke's is a wolf, and Wyatt's mask is a Fox, Alan has a circle beard, Scott has a short boxed beard and both Luke and Wyatt have full beards. Scott usually wears tank tops and ripped pants, combat boots included as well, he's not really much for fashionable looks- just whatever fits and is easy to throw on usually, he also has a ton of scars on himself as well, the most prominent one is over his right eye however it doesn't seem to affect his vision- oh he also wears fingerless black leather gloves with spikes on them- I do gotta also say- Alan's a skinny not so strong looking dude, Scott looks a bit chubby but he's definitely beefy and could probs take out 5 people at once if he so desired, Luke is pretty beefy considering those kinds of standards- he doesn't look TOO strong but he could definitely take some people out if he wanted, Wyatt is a large chubby man but don't underestimate him- he can EASILY kick your ass too. Luke's main outfit is a long sleeved black t-shirt along with overalls over them, and he also wears combat boots as well- if he's not wearing his overalls- he'll wear a ripped denim jacket (a simple white t-shirt underneath it), ripped up blue jeans and- well- okay the combat boots stay either way, he gotta have those- and he wears dark brown punk rave gloves (I have an image ref if ya wanna see- just ask and I'll show ya) he has scars on his arms, legs, chest, back- and especially his face- although they don't seem to bother him in the slightest tbh. and finally Wyatt usually wears ripped denim jackets as well, again a simple t-shirt underneath, and his boots look more punk like than anything really, he also wears fingerless/knuckle-less leather driving gloves on both hands (all the lads that DO wear gloves have them on both hands btw), he also has a bunch of scars all over him but like everyone except for Alan, his scars don't bother him- in fact he's happy he's got them- its proof of just how strong he is. | Personalities: Let's start off with Alan once again, he's the surprisingly "sweet one" of this fucked up bunch- he's shy, he hardly talks because of that fact but also the... "outsiders" as his "family" calls them (fun fact: their not actually related at all in the slightest, they just... consider themselves this kinda weird, fucked up family if you will-), so the outsiders terrify him- he's worried they'll corrupt him or worse, hurt/kill his family, he can't let that happen... So, despite his shyness n such, he WILL kill someone if it means protecting his family but that's the only way he'll kill or torture e v e r, he's the sweetest one compared to the others however so long as no one tries to corrupt him or hurt/kill his family then he's chill, he just isn't good at conversations because of his shyness and fear of corruption, he does genuinely care for his family however, they all do- they'd protect each other with all their dying breaths for sure. Scott is cold, uncaring, and pretty much the brawn of this group- sure, Luke n Wyatt are also pretty strong as well BUT- Scott still counts as the brawn, he's completely silent- doesn't ever speak a word- he's not mute actually but he just chooses not to speak, words waste time when he can be causing mindless carnage ...so long as Luke or Wyatt give him the okay that is, he HIGHLY respects them both as the leaders essentially in a way, as for Alan... despite his cold and uncaring attitude towards the outsiders, to his family he is respectful and even... friendly actually- he tries to toughen Alan up on occasion- not because he thinks Alan is weak, he just doesn't want him to be... left behind in a way- he wants him to be able to defend himself if the outsiders come into their territory. Luke is cold as well, he also rarely speaks- only when he needs to truth be told, he h a t e s the outsiders but loves his family, he won't hold back at all most of the time when an outsider comes into their territory- Wyatt has to tell Scott to restrain Luke when it comes to them, he also tries to help Alan out along with Scott, he wants Alan to have not only a strong body however he also wants him to have a strong mind- the outsiders... he'll give it to em begrudgingly, their smart... too smart, they could easily corrupt such a young fragile mind like Alan's and he won't e v e r let that happen, he has a high respect for Wyatt, Wyatt is like the true leader of this family- and finally Wyatt... Wyatt is a fuckin lunatic im just gonna say that right now, he's mysterious and unpredictable- you never know what his next move is going to be no matter how much you try to get a read on him, he's v e r y cryptic with his wording and well various other things as well (he's p much the cryptid of their territory at this point), he's cold, calculating, and cunning- he's pretty much the brains in this here family, always makes the plans when outsiders venture into their territory, he's ALWAYS prepared just in case, can't have a n y o n e ...well, anyone that isn't w o r t h y inside... but to be honest, most outsiders aren't worthy, they aren't f i t to be let inside, those that are however... Well... It's best to just wish them luck, that's all you can do at this point, because after he finds the worthy ones, there's not much hope for them afterwards... | Side Facts: Before I talk more bout them, let's talk about their territory that's referenced so much... So, their "territory" is pretty much a deep part of the woods, they have a fairly big log cabin, its a very old and dirty looking house both on the inside and outside in fact, there's lots of things on their property, lots of it looks like junk in a way, junked up cars even, honestly- it looks like something out of a horror movie which in a way is fitting given their personalities n such, you can tell your getting close to their home when you see lanterns hanging on the trees and that's a sign you should turn back and r u n, that is... If you can, there's usually one of them ALWAYS patrolling EVERY inch of their territory. Tbh- their territory is also gated off anyways and for a g o o d reason, so crossing the gate is of your own free will- so you'd p much be putting yourself in harms way willingly so yeaaahh... Now onto the lads, what do they do in their spare time when their not patrolling or keeping close eye on the new outsider that wandered inside, etc? Well, Alan usually spends most of his time inside and reading or he's making and inventing things and new weapons for the rest of his family, he's always happy to give them a new weapon when one of theirs breaks down or help out when they need (but first, lemme say that their MAIN weapons they have around the property and like to use is, well... Alan likes to use a simple baseball bat, Scott uses a hook/chain, Luke has an axe, and Wyatt will honestly use whatever he wants, in a way- their kinda similar to slashers when they start bringing out the weapons n such), when Alan's not doing any of that- he usually explores the woods, well MOST of the woods... He's always heard from the others not to explore the d e e p e r parts of the woods and of course he listens despite his curiosity. Scott usually helps Wyatt hang up more lanterns on some of the trees bc a lot of those outsider nuisances for some reason grabs the lanterns and usually winds up dropping them on the ground out of fear n other bullshit, they keep those lanterns there for a r e a s o n... aside from that, he'll borrow Luke's axe and chop some firewood (they dont have electricity, they dont really care for technology or any of that), mostly aside from doing work around the property- he'll exercise more with Luke, carrying and lifting heavy objects- gotta keep their strength up, he'll also help Alan try this as well ...he has on occasion panicked bc Alan was struggling so much with one object, it looked like it was about to crush him, Wyatt has warned both Luke and Scott to start small and then go for the much bigger objects, you can't rush these things. Luke usually also does some work on the property, he hunts food more so for the family than anything, he's a good hunter and damn good tracker, of course- he uh, uses a gun for the hunting not an axe lmao, he'll bring back the food to get them through the harsh winters and just to get by in general, he's also good with telling which plants/berries would be safe to eat and which are not, he patrols the area ON OCCASION along with Wyatt but, his self restraint to go and rip them apart needs to be stronger in order for him to patrol- he needs MORE self control than that, like Scott- he also helps Alan out with not only strength of the body but also mental strength- he knows those... book thingies, albeit usually an outsider item- will help him gain more knowledge, Wyatt has told him however that, even books can be mistreated by an outsider, they take stuff for g r a n t e d... Which is foolish, but he'll still help Alan out himself as well. and finally... the big finale of this long ass post, Wyatt, the l e a d e r of this fucked up family... He usually spends his time outside, keeping an eye on the property and ready to help one of his "brothers" as he calls them (again, just in case its been forgotten, they are not ACTUALLY related, they just think of themselves as this weird lil fam) if they need, he's essentially the overseer of them and of course their property, he makes the plans if outsiders come into their territory OR... if their worthy enough, he'll help them... see the light so to speak, he'll help them see the true meaning... blah blah ya know all that cryptic shit, he's been to the... D E E P E R parts of the woods before, he knows a l l about it... He tries to keep his brothers shielded from it, they don't deserve to be put through a n y t h i n g like t h a t, he's warned Alan himself before too of course like "Now brother, don't'cha dare go wanderin' into them deeper parts of the woods, it ain't safe... Not for a young fragile soul such as yerself..."