#I’ll be sharing this sporadically throughout the week

[theshatteredsilhouette]

It’s July, and Loki prints are back!

There are three new listings—two regular art prints, and the new bundle of four of my sketches as mini-prints. (There are only 20 sets right now of the sketches, and then I’ll see how well they do!) There are a few of the last chance prints are still available as well. ✨

Prints are here!

THINGS TO NOTE:

✨the shop will be open for a week, and will close at midnight EST time on Sunday July 9th.

✨prints are PREORDERS ONLY apart from the last chance ones—this saves me stress and ensures no one misses out, but means a longer processing time (2-3 weeks unless I have them already in stock)

✨please remember to note if you want prints signed and WHERE (back or front)

✨I do ship internationally, but postage is more expensive (out of my hands, unfortunately) and they take longer to arrive, so please keep that in mind!

[chihoshisai]

Night Crush

Nanami x Reader

cw : i can fix/help him reader, coffee shop au, nanami is tired, positive ending // wc : 1.5K

The chimes of the bell echoed throughout the coffee shop, signaling a customer had entered the property. Withdrawing from the task that had previously kept you occupied, you turned towards the counter, expecting to welcome the only person that would dare come at such dark hours for the bitter taste of caffeine.

“Hi,” you greeted with a sympathetic smile at the sight of the drained expression that adorned the features of Nanami who walked further in. “The usual ?” you asked, well aware that he would come here at least once a week to possibly decompress from work, as he enjoyed a book alongside his coffee.

“Evening,” he replied with a voice that hinted nothing of his emotions, “yes I’ll take an americano,” he added with a nod.

“Alright,” you said, as he fetched his card to pay before busying yourself with the making of his drink. 

At this unholy hour of the day, the shop usually remained empty — making for a laid-back shift whilst you kept yourself occupied with either cleaning or endless scrolling on your device. However the routine you had established for yourself got interrupted by the sporadic apparitions of Nanami which started about four months ago. Being the only guest, it was an easy task for your brain to remember him and his preferences, as you slowly started to notice simple details about him over time. 

The way his hair was perpetually neatly combed and parted, his aloof behavior and the way he seemed so engrossed in the books he read — ultimately sparking your own interest in literature, wondering if novels truly had the power to draw people in. 

Anticipation towards his appearances in your workplace had stirred up these unexpected butterflies and accelerated heart rates from your body. The more you watched the clock tick away the time, the more hopeful you grew that he would come, and more often than not you wound up disappointed and hurt — feeling lonely at the realization of how silent your surroundings were, but mostly by its emptiness which was emphasized by the soft yellow lights of the café.

It was a slight crush really, created by the intimacy of sharing time with another individual in a place that usually brimmed with people, buzzing with laughter and conversations. The veil casted by the arrival of night would make anyone fall prey to the serene atmosphere brought forth. And you were one of its victims. But it wasn’t the only reason why you had fallen for Nanami. Yes he was a handsome man, even behind his spectacles you could tell as much. One look at his body and it was apparent how well built he was, as you secretly wished for a peek at what probably consisted of finely refined muscles.         

The more glances you casted in his direction, the more you took notice of how tired — exhausted — he seemed. Seeing further than his attractive appearance, it left you wondering what sort of corporate environment he found himself in, even though he seemed adept at putting up a front. It was in the way he sometimes spoke, or how his shoulders would crouch for a second, even the occasional sigh that would escape his lips was enough for you to come to that conclusion. Going as far as causing your heart to clench, it gave you the desire to help, to do something, to ease his pain even if it was a meager gesture. 

You finished preparing his order and hurriedly went to deliver it to Nanami, who sat near the window with his legs crossed, his book by the side awaiting for his usual coffee to arrive before starting his reading. 

“Here's your americano,” you uttered with a shy glance towards him, hoping to catch a closer look at that sharp jaw of his. 

“Thank you,” he replied as he watched the cup being placed on the table beside his novel. 

These small mundane conversations were enough to elicit daydreams in your mind. You gave him a slight nod before returning to the counter, to begin appearing to look busy when all you truly were doing was poke a look or two towards him. Though as you had been doing so for months already, the thought of feeling unfulfilled surged up inside you — bothering you even. It wasn't enough. You wanted more. 

As such, the remaining pastries of the day gave you an idea — which left you pondering whether or not this would be a well received gesture or deemed unnecessary. With steady hands, promptly placing a piece of cake on a plate, you headed towards Nanami once more, each step increasing the rate of your heart and deepening your breathing as this wasn't part of your usual night shift routine.  

The sound of your heart echoed through your brain having reached the table, and your breath caught your throat at the sight of Nanami pausing to look in your direction. 

“What's this?” He asked, eyes lingering towards your hands, “I didn't order that,” his tone was slightly surprised which made you even more nervous.

“It's on the house. Since you come by every so often, I thought you could enjoy this with your coffee. I hope it’s not too much of a bother,” you blurted out in a single breath — deeply inhaling afterwards as your eyes traced the outlines of his facial features, praying for a positive answer.

“I see,” his flat tone ringed in your ear, “in that case I’ll gladly accept it.” And with swift movements, he momentarily closed his book and made place for the unexpected order atop the table. 

You beamed — truth be told, who in their right mind would refuse to accept food offered by what supposedly consisted of their favorite place ? as you placed the plate down, the thought of considering rejection almost made you feel foolish. But this wasn’t enough.

“May I ask you something?” You inquired, fiddling with your fingers while your eyes darted towards the ground. Without a doubt, you were testing your luck to see how long it’d last. 

“What is it?” His eyes hadn’t left your side for a second

At the sound of his voice, you raised your head, allowing yours to fill itself with worry, “are you alright?” 

Nanami sighed.

And your mind started racing — what if you had annoyed him ? Embarrassed for having crossed a line, you steeled yourself to apologize, but he further beat you up to it.     

“Sometimes I am required to work at night, and it is a real hassle,” he bluntly said, shoulders slouching as he let himself exhale once more.

That much you knew, but you still nodded in acknowledgement, “it must be hard.”

“It can’t be helped,” he shrugged, “plus if I don’t let myself come here from time to time, I’ll reach my limit. Few coffee shops are open at this hour so I am grateful for this place,” he finished with a smile.

A smile.

The upward curve of his lips sent a turmoil of emotions inside you — never had he showed such a reaction in all the time you had observed him. With glee, you internally praised yourself for coming forward tonight. And so, you pushed further.

“What do you like? I’ll bring it to you next time,” you exclaimed in a confident voice. 

“Bread,” he replied, looking at you through his sunglasses, “I like bread. And alcohol.”

“Oh I see,” you said with a nervous laugh, worried as your café wasn’t the type to sell bread even during the day — instead you swore to look up how to make it, master it in the hopes that it would be good enough. “By the way, what sort?” Your apprehensive smile remained on your lips.

“There’s a bakery not far from here that I like to go to. They have—” Nanami began without having the chance to continue.

“Would you mind showing it to me?” the words escaped before you had the time to process them. At the sight of the raised eyebrows in your direction, you decided to screw it and further push your dwindling luck. “The bakery I mean, would you mind if we go together?” As heat settled on your face, indicating your blush — you gripped your apron with more force than necessary, awaiting for what you convinced yourself would be a negative answer. Your mind was already one step ahead, grieving the end of what had been a short unrequited crush and how empty the café would remain for the upcoming time.

“I don’t mind,” Nanami’s monotonous tone replied, “give me your number so we can plan this out.” 

What?

As his hands moved to search for his cellphone, your mind took a moment to process the information before delight overthrew the previous misleading feelings — leaving you clumsily reaching for the phone in your pocket. Both having exchanged numbers, you gave a slight bow to Nanami, finally leaving him to enjoy himself and rushed to the staff room to giddily enjoy your victory.

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

Happy Elain Week!

So it’s been a little difficult for me to write much else outside of my THOAW universe and subsequently I don’t have much for @elainarcheronweek prepared. My brain has been a bit mushy and it pains me to not contribute in the way I usually would but I’ll try to put out a few things throughout the week.

For Day 1: Seer, I have this humble little drabble. Thank you to @ultadverb for the prompt idea. Have the best week y’all! I can’t wait to dig into all the goodies 😊🩷

***

Since the time she was a young child, Elain could always remember having the most vivid dreams.

Dreams of dark caverns, of great winged beasts swooping down upon her, of bone white hands grasping her sleeves and tugging at her skirts. They frightened her, as a little girl. She would sneak into her parents’ room; tears streaming down her full cheeks to seek her mother for comfort.

It’s just a silly dream, Elain! There is no need to cry! It is simply your imagination. Go back to bed.

Often, her father wouldn’t even rouse at her interruptions or mothers berating, but when he did, he would carry her back to the room she shared with Nesta and tuck her into her bed. He wouldn’t wait for her to fall asleep again.

The dreams carried on sporadically for most her life. Some time around the beginning of her teenage years, she learnt to not seek comfort from others anymore. It was often fruitless anyway, at least when she turned to her parents. Her sisters were more sympathetic. And when her mother died and their fortune squandered, everyone seemed too lost to their own despair to care about anyone else but themselves. She willed herself to cast the dreams from memory, push them aside and instead plaster on the pleasant smile she wore to appease those around her.

So, when she had been roused from sleep the night Feyre had returned once again from above the wall, her sister turned into Fae herself and the High Lord of Night along with his most trusted warriors in tow, she hadn’t thought much of it. The dream had come to her like they always did. Flashes of strange scenes she had never witnessed in her waking hours.

But she lay awake for hours afterwards, wondering what the swirling black waters meant, so deep and dark they appeared to repel light itself. Obsidian in both appearance and menace. She had heard the sobs and pleas of her sisters echoing off stone walls. Cruel laughter. A male grunt of pain. Beautiful, scared fingers twitching toward her.

And then the scene had gone dark, utterly silent. There was nothing but her subconscious thought for what felt like a small eternity…

But then, after the endless dark came light. Sunshine. As she had never seen it before. It was warm and buttery, peeking through the shadows of the darkness that had seemed to swallow her.

But the light was familiar and warm, gentle. Unassuming. It felt, comforting. Unlike anything she had felt before. She liked it. It felt peaceful yet exciting, as if some playful little creature was beckoning her closer, to look harder, to see beyond the shadows.

Others may have been weary, afraid. But she didn’t balk.

For whatever reason, she knew it would be ok. That whatever she found beyond that shadow would be worth it.

********

tag list:

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@ultadverb

@nightcourtseer

@wingedblooms

@tswaney17

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[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [CHAPTER 4]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, fingering, littlest bit of dirty talk, praise!kink, soft soft soft FLUFF hours, a bit of a filler chapter before the last chapter!! 😭 I can’t believe it’s almost ‘over’... This chapter has the least amount of smut yall will ever see with fratboy!wonwoo so don’t get used to it ☠️ LMAO 🤣🤣 also... it’s been a garbage week(boring work drama) for me so I’ll answer inbox msgs and stuff on sunday, I need to get away from the internet(and people) for a day dkfjhskh 😭💕 Ya’ll thank you for so much love and support with Caffeine and Until I Met You! It means so much to me and I appreciate every like, reblog and comment I get on it 🥺💕 No I will never be ending my fratboy!wonwoo au so don’t worry about that hehe 💕 For now, enjoy this soft ch 4 and I will see yall on Sunday! I love you, have a great weekend! 💕

[mood for this chapter: more than enough - alina baraz]

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - x

“So…”

Wonwoo sighs - re-shelving another Edgar Allen Poe book. “So, what?”

Mingyu tilts his sunglasses down, eyebrows raised at the older male that continues to do his job instead of give him the time of day. “What’s going on with you, hyung? You’ve been… weird.”

“Okay, define weird.”

The younger male pouts as he takes his sunglasses off, pocketing them as he leans up against the bookshelf that Wonwoo is currently still shelving.

It only takes one utterance of your name for Wonwoo to stop in his tracks - fingertips on the spine of another book as he turns to Mingyu. “What about her? Did she say something to you?”

“No, but do you like her? I mean, ‘like’ like her.”

“Is it not… obvious? That I do? Did we not all collectively have that conversation about me giving her a set of keys to our house?”

Mingyu grimaces slightly as he mentally goes through all the times he’d even seen the two of you together and he’s only able to conjure up a few select memories - none of which were anything necessarily romantic. “Well… I wouldn’t say ‘obvious’, I guess. The two of you aren’t exactly the ‘kiss and hold hands in public’ kind of... people. More like the, ‘sneak off to fuck in a public restroom’ kind... Which, uh, isn’t really... romantic.”

This time, Wonwoo crosses his arms and leans up against the opposite bookshelf as he sighs.

It’d been a few days since he’d seen you and you’d been swamped in so much class work that you didn’t even have the time to come by the library or the frat house. And even while Wonwoo stood in between the bookshelves having a conversation with Mingyu, you were finishing an art project with Minghao that was due by the end of the day.

“I know. I told her it’d be kind of a slow crawl for me.” He plucks another book from the cart, staring at the glossy text as he simmers in his thoughts. “Mingyu, am I awkward?”

“Erm, well, I wouldn’t say that necessarily.”

Mingyu steps forward, patting Wonwoo on the shoulder as he smiles.

“You like her and you’re trying even if you’re not used to it. You gotta start somewhere, hyung. Even if you’re a fish out of water. But that’s okay, you can ask me for help if you want!”

“When are you gonna put a ring on Wonwoo-hyung?”

You snort at Minghao’s question - reaching for a clean paintbrush as he stands across from you in the large, empty studio. “First of all, can you not say it like that? I’m not gonna marry him, okay.”

The male rolls his eyes as he steps closer to you; his own hands and clothes covered in a colorful array of paints. “So you’re saying you never imagined hyung in a suit, hair slicked back and his buff arms carrying you off into your honeymoon?”

“W--wh--n--no! No, I haven’t!” You avoid his piercing stare as you focus on your end of the large canvas instead.

No, but I dreamt about it once.

“‘Hao, would you hurry! We’re supposed to be collaborating on this and it looks… like it’s 5 different art styles.”

“Don’t change the subject on me. And anyway, I like what you’re doing to hyung. Breaking him out of his shell, y’know? He’s just shy, that’s all. Needs a little work in the bold department.”

You bite down the urge to laugh because to you, Wonwoo was everything but shy when it came to the bedroom. Although, Minghao was right with everything else. “Yeah, I know. We went for breakfast together after I, um, stayed over a few nights ago and he kinda just sat there zoned out, picking at his waffles. He’s really cute when he wakes up in the morning though. Pouty and whiny.”

Grinning at Minghao, he pretends to gag in response before taking a seat next to you.

“Disgusting. Tell me more.”

Wonwoo makes an effort to check in with you throughout the day before he heads back to his room - asking you if you’d had your meals and if you’d finished your project on time.

You’d answered sporadically as you and Minghao raced to finish.

‘I’ll eat late probably… rly gotta finish or else my ass is failing lol’

‘Just don’t forget, okay? It’s not good for you to skip.’

Wonwoo lays down in his bed; yawning as he sets his phone onto the nightstand next to himself.

His eyelids feel heavy and he’s quick to give in to the tiredness that takes over him once he gets comfortable.

When Wonwoo finally decides to shift during his nap, he finds it difficult and extra warm.

“Mmh…”

His bleary eyes adjust to the, now,  slightly darkened room as he makes out your figure tucked underneath his arm. He calls your name softly - waking you up from the nap that you’d apparently joined him in.

“Mmh… Wonwoo…” You snuggle in deeper, voice still laced with sleep. “You didn’t even budge when I came in…”

He chuckles softly as he readjusts to spoon you from behind instead; his strong arm wrapped around your waist to keep your body flush against his own.

“I’m surprised you came by, sweetheart. I would’ve just stayed awake had I known you were coming over.” His voice is groggy and laced with sleep as you sigh softly in return as you blink away the sleepiness.

“How was your day at the library? Miss me yet?” Wonwoo smiles into your shoulder before he tilts his head up to kiss the shell of your ear.

“Always, sweetheart. Although, Mingyu decided to keep me busy today.”

“Oh? Anything fun?”

He plays with the hem of your shirt, “Well… Fun isn’t the word I’d use to describe what that was. Nosy was more like it.”

This time you can’t help but snort in response. “You too? I think some people were being ‘lil moles today.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it. Did you end up just coming back here with Minghao from the studio?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, to be honest but… S’been a rough day.” Placing your hand over his arm, you squeeze slightly as you pull his arm around you tighter. “Our professor came by while we were working in the studio and said our project wasn’t up to par with what Minghao and I usually submit for projects. She didn’t fail us on the spot but she said we need to redo it for less credit or take the failing grade.”

Wonwoo nuzzles your neck; peppering small kisses on your clothed shoulder. “I take it the two of you are going to redo it?”

“Mm… We spent so long coming up with a concept and now we’re both stressed about coming up with something new. I walked over here with ‘Hao and he locked himself up in his room as soon as we got here. Figured I’d come hang out with you and found you napping… With your glasses on, no less.”

The two of you share a laugh; Wonwoo’s embrace making you feel more at ease.

“Can I help you de-stress a little, sweetheart?”

You stare at the opposite wall, nodding gently as Wonwoo’s hand leaves the hem of your shirt in favour of the waistband of your shorts.

“Just want you to feel good,” he whispers. “You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard, baby.”

He teases you softly; fingertips ghosting across your skin as you shiver. “Ah, Wonwoo…”

“You worked extra hard today too, didn’t you? I’m so proud of you for what you accomplished today.”

Your body heats up at his praise and you can’t deny that his deep, soft voice sends thrums of arousal pouring over your body just as he dips his hand into your lounge shorts. He touches you over your panties - fingertips ghosting against your mound as you moan his name shakily in return.

“I know your new idea is going to be great, baby. I believe in you.”

Soft whines threaten to spill as Wonwoo strokes you over your panties - slowly working you up as you find yourself trying to grind against his hand. “Y-yeah… ‘m p-pretty sure ‘Hao’s already working on it…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper as Wonwoo continues to stroke you gently; making no efforts to rush or add pressure to his feather-light touches.

A disappointed noise falls from your lips when he starts to pull his hand out of your shorts but it quickly turns into a content sigh when he starts teasing your chest instead.

“Mm, so soft…” Muttering against your shoulder, his eyes stare off into the dark room as he massages your body. “And all mine~”

You hum in response, “We should go on a date sometime…”

“You want to? We can go this weekend. After you’ve redone some of your project. I’ll take you somewhere nice for a job well done.”

You giggle softly; images of a wedding day’s Wonwoo dancing in your mind after the conversation you’d had with Minghao earlier. “I’d like that. We should do something for the whole day.”

“Whatever you’d like, baby.”

Wonwoo’s hand flits down your body again - snaking into your shorts and, this time, into your panties as you whine. “Do you wanna cum or go back to sleep, hmm?” 

You ponder it for a second as the drowsiness equates the urge to cum on his fingers. 

“Both? I wanna cum and then sleep a little more... If that’s okay?” 

Wonwoo hums in agreement as his fingertips drag through your folds - collecting the wetness on them before he teases your soaked hole. “Only a little teasing gets you this wet, hmm? So cute.” 

“Ah, f-feels good when you go slow t-too...” 

He stores that away in his head for later; chuckling against your shoulder as he slowly starts to dip his middle finger into your cunt. 

You feel warm and content when he starts a slow pace - thumb on your clit rubbing soft, slow circles while he pumps his finger into you. 

“O-oh, Wonwoo...” 

“You��re always good for me, baby. Always such a good girl.” 

“Ah, Wonwoo...”

“You can cum whenever you want. You deserve it.” 

He adds his index finger - thrusting both fingers into you as you mewl and arch away from his warm chest. Your toes curl and your thighs clamp and trap his hand between your legs as you start to grind down onto his nimble fingers.

“...W--Wonwoo...” 

“That’s right, baby. Call my name, let me hear your pretty voice when your cumming for me.” 

You turn your head - cries muffled into his pillow because despite his slower than usual pace, you find yourself already on the brink of cumming with his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and his thumb on your clit. 

“Mmh... Ah... Feels s-so warm... and g-good...” You mutter, eyes blinking drowsily. “Gonna c-cum...” 

He doesn’t say anything in return as he focuses on you and your pleasure; fingers scissoring and curling right into your g-spot as you clamp down onto them in a vice grip. 

Wonwoo knows when you’re about to cum when he feels your hand coming down on his forearm, holding onto him for dear life when your orgasm still hits you just as hard. 

“Ngh, Wo---Wonwoo!” 

Your walls flutter around his fingers and make it harder for him to thrust them in and out with how tight you get. 

“That’s my good girl. Cum for me, baby~” 

His deep voice makes you whine - nails digging into his arm and body trembling as the pleasure steadily washes over you. 

“Ah, bet your face is so pretty right now too~” 

“Mmh, s-stop...” Your cheeks burn in slight embarrassment from his constant praise but you can’t deny the way it goes straight to your core and only prolongs your orgasm. 

“Don’t be so shy, baby. It’s only you and me here.” 

Wonwoo leans away slightly to kiss the crown of your head - still working you through your orgasm as you sigh contentedly in his arms. 

Various thoughts run through his head in the moment, but the one that sits at the forefront of his mind is definitely how to make sure he kept treating you right. 

Starting with your date that he would spend time meticulously planning.

‘Ah, I should ask Mingyu for some advice.’ 

[helliontherapscallion]

Shenanigans and Love (Adrenaline Junkie Part 13)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: the Warden, mentions of death, phantom pain syndrome, extreme fluff

Word count: 3,226

The light glow of the redstone lamp illuminated your work space. Currently, it was about two hours before everybody was due to wake up and you were hovering over your journal containing your notes on the Warden. Not much was known about the cave-dwelling creature, but you found a couple of books about it at the library. So far, you found out that it indeed didn’t have eyes; it navigated via a mixture of hearing and a vibration network found in the blocks that had the glowing tentacles on them (you now knew that they were called ‘sculk blocks’). The sculk blocks would pick up on movement or touch, it would send vibration waves through the air, where it would reach the Warden’s own sculk stalks. Without the sculk stalks on the Warden’s head, the Warden was defenseless.

You also read about the anatomy of the creature. Known juvenile specimens ranged from seven to eleven feet tall while adults spanned from twelve to a whopping twenty feet tall. While their average lifespan is unknown due to the parasitic nature of the beast, it is known that they are out of their juvenile stage once they are approximately twenty years old. Thinking back on the one in the cave, it was about twice as tall as you were. That was a juvenile mob and it’s probably grown rapidly since then. The thing that killed you so viciously was a juvenile. You shuddered thinking about what an adult could do.

Juveniles are charted to be more erratic in their decisions while adults were known to be calculating and alert. Known weaknesses were known to be the sculk stalks and the heart. It was going to be incredibly difficult to take it down by yourself, but if worse comes to worse, you’d gladly take the beast down with you. Just in case, you left behind a small will with things you were planning on giving to your family. You were going to leave your workshop and your blueprints to Arthur, your collection of diamonds to Tommy and Wilbur, your stock of netherite and gold to Technoblade, and your wealth and life savings to Philza. You requested that Philza take care of Arthur, you couldn’t ask for a better father figure to have than Philza. Only the best for Arthur. In addition, you had a letter prepared for every member of your family. They were still in their first drafts, but they were coming along fast. In them, you detailed how grateful you were for every single one of them and reminisced on your favorite memory you shared with them. You still had about a week and a half left before you planned on attacking the cave, but you always liked to have extra time to complete things.

Your alarm clock sounded with harsh, lazer like beeps before you quickly silenced it. You didn’t need Arthur or Philza waking up so early. Sighing, you hid your journal and letters under a false bottom drawer and gently closed it. You trudged up the stairs quietly and made your way to the bathroom to shower for the day. When you took off your prosthetic, you could feel the phantom pains shoot up your nonexistent wing. In addition to that, the feathered stump and the areas around it felt stiff. The warmth of the shower did nothing to alleviate the pain.

After your shower, you started to make breakfast. Soon after, the other members of the household filed into the kitchen with differing energies. Arthur, the hyper, knowledge craving kid he was, walked into the kitchen with a bounce in his step and his head held high while Philza followed him with disheveled hair and tired blue eyes. With breakfast situated at the table, everyone started eating. You continuously shifting uncomfortably in your seat didn’t go unnoticed by the two as they eyed you after they woke up a little more.

Finally having enough of your constant movement, Philza finally spoke up, “(y/n)?” You hummed, turning to look at him, “yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

You suddenly become hyper aware of your movements as you force your body to sit still. “Everything’s fine, why you ask?”

“You look a little uncomfortable. Are you sure everything’s alright?”

You sighed, “I’ll tell you later. Arthur did you have anything specific you wanted to learn today?”

His eyes shone with the brightness of all of the stars in the universe as he made quick work to swallow his mouthful of toast, jumping in his seat slightly as he chewed. “Yes! I was wondering if you could teach me how to work with comparators!”

“That takes a lot of time and patience to learn, we probably won’t get it all done by the end of the day today. Is that alright?” He enthusiastically nodded, shoving the last bit of toast in his mouth and running off with a mouthful of unchewed bread.

You could feel a slight worry stab your gut, “Arthur, swallow your food before you run! You could choke!”

You watched as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, vigorously chewed, swallowed, and resumed his sprint upstairs. You dragged a tired hand through your hair and sipped at your coffee.

“Ender, now I know how you felt with us when we were kids. Kid’s gonna be the death of me.”

Your dad chuckled, sipping at his own coffee. “He’s a lot more tame than you four were. Techno and Wilbur weren’t that bad, you were just a tad bit more chaotic, and well, you remember how Tommy was. You’re just way too worried about him. Kids will be kids, they do crazy things and sometimes you can’t stop them. After the couple months of adopting Tommy, I just let him learn from his mistakes. You gotta let them learn from their mistakes or else they’re never gonna learn. It’s just something all parents have to do if they want their kid to grow as a person.”

“That’s tr- wait, parent? Arthur’s my protégé, not my kid.”

He smirked over his mug and raised an eyebrow at you, “really? Cuz you seem awfully worried about him.”

“Dad. I’m just worried that he’s gonna accidentally kill himself. What, can I not be worried about my protégé?”

“No need to get defensive, just trying to point out the obvious-”

“The obvious? Dad, I'm only twenty. I’m not adopting anyone anytime soon.”

“I adopted Techno when I was twenty three,” he pointed out with raised eyebrows, “besides, I think you’d be a great parent. You’re already a parental figure for Arthur anyways, so nothing would change too much.”

You were silent for a moment as you stared at him blankly. You never viewed yourself as a parental figure type before. Your current lifestyle of never leaving your workshop would never be able to accommodate having someone that depended on you. You could hardly take care of a goldfish (you still had Bubbles’ grave in the backyard at your house in L’manberg), let alone an entire human child. Sure, you babysat Fundy when Niki was too busy to, but that was your nephew and it was only for a day at a time. You planned on taking Arthur with you back to L’manberg (only if he wanted to of course), but you didn’t think that far ahead. He was probably going to have to stay at your house. You weren’t cut out to be a parent, you wouldn’t be good enough for Arthur.

Philza, noticing your slightly panicked zoned out state, quickly reassured you, “you don’t have to make a definitive decision right now, you have time. Just- just consider it. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to come to me. I think I’ve raised enough kids to know what I’m doing,” he chuckled to himself.

Your feathered wing dropped in relief as you gave him your best smile over your coffee mug. “Thanks Dad, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, you’re a lifesaver.” Right after that, a particularly large burst of pain shot along the length of your nonexistent right wing and loitered in the area around the base of your wing. You bit your tongue at the sudden pain as you felt the muscles twitch.

“It’s no problem, I’ll always be here to help ya.” He smiled at you before his eyes snapped to something behind you. His smile dropped as he eyed you concerningly, pointing behind you. “Is- is it supposed to do that?”

You followed his eyes behind you to your prosthetic wing. The metal was twitching in sporadic bursts with varying intensity. You could hear the slight scratching of the metal clashing lightly against the wooden chair. Though it was very inconvenient, you supposed you should be glad that it was moving with the muscle impulses of the muscles you used in flight. Suddenly, you could feel a muscle directly on the base of your wing twitch as the metal moved in tandem with the impulse. The entire wing extended to it’s full length and knocked over the chair next to you. It stood erect for a bit before another twitch caused another spasm that worked its way throughout the length of your metal wing. This time, the wing reared back to your body and almost smacked you in the face. If you didn’t move, your eye would’ve probably been plucked out by one of the metal feathers.

Your flesh wing puffed up slightly in embarrassment as you turned to look back at the blond man in front of you, “technically? I mean, it’s just the sensors picking up on the twitching. I-I’ll get the chair.”

As you stood up, you grunted in pain as another spasm hit you. This time, your wing extended fully perpendicularly to your back causing the muscles in the base of your nubby wing to be pulled unexpectedly. Hissing, your hand shot to rub at the base of your wing. “Fuck that was a bad one.”

You heard the screech of wood on wood as Philza stood up and hurried over to you, dodging a couple of swings from your wing. His hands were hovering indecisively in front of him. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“Take it off. Just- hhh, just take the sensors off. There should be seven of them, all on my back and shoulders.” You bent over with your hands gripping the table with each spasm of your muscles. You could feel the fabric of your shirt being pulled slightly from your body and the warmth of your dad’s hand brushing against your twitching skin as he hurriedly ripped the sensors off your skin.

Once they were all off, the metal wing drooped limply downwards, occasionally being moved slightly when what’s left of the flesh stiffened. “Good, can you unfasten the belts? There’s three of them, they’re a little- ah, a little tricky. After that, carefully pull the metal out through the slit in my shirt. Make sur- sure the sensors don’t rip.”

You sighed when you felt the wing being taken off from you and pulled through the slit in your shirt. Slumping back down into your chair, you reached a hand around to nead the skin on your back. You could feel the twitching slowly decrease in intensity, leaving a sore feeling in its wake. Your wing was placed gently onto the table in front of you, some parts hanging off the side. “Goddamn, I haven’t had an episode that bad since I grinded out making weapons for the War.”

You could hear water running before a glass was placed in front of you and Philza picked up the chair you knocked over and pulled it up next to you. He started to rub circles around the muscles around your wing. You sighed in content, feeling the knots in your back being relieved, “thanks. That feels good.”

“(y/n)?” A small voice said from the doorway of the kitchen. You shot up and bit back a groan when your sore muscles were moved. The young boy was leaning into the doorway with his hands on the sides and his mop of brilliant copper hair hung downwards. He looked worried and slightly scared.

“Hey Arthur, we can start your lesson soon, I just need a sec.”

“Are you okay?” His wavering tone and small voice combined with the tears slowly filling his eyes broke your heart. Eyes softening, you stood up and walked over to him, pulling him into a soft hug. “Of course I’m okay, you don’t need to worry buddy,” you deepened your voice and spoke dramatically, ‘(Y/n) Minecraft the Great, Conqueror of the Unknown’ will never be taken down!”

He gave a watery chuckle against your shirt and burrowed his head deeper into your shoulder, gripping you tighter. You reached up to stroke his hair and wrapped your left wing around him loosely, shielding him from the world with a protective feathery barrier. You could hear Philza picking up dishes from the table and quietly start to do the dishes. Despite the occasional twitch in your back and the phantom pain shooting down your wing, you directed all of your attention to Arthur. Eventually, he pulled away and wiped at his blotchy face. “Are you still up for the lesson?”

Just as Arthur opened his mouth, Philza interrupted him from behind you, “you’re not doing anything until you feel better (y/n).”

“Dad, honestly it isn’t that-”

“Don’t say it honestly isn’t that bad, we both know that’s not true. You’re on bedrest for today.”

You grumbled to yourself as you stood up and handed your glass of water to Arthur, who sipped at the contents giving you a small “thank you.” Nodding, you were escorted out of the kitchen by Philza and ushered to the couch. Once you were laying down on your stomach, he handed you a book and placed a hot water bottle on your back. Before you could stop it, a pleased hum left your lips as your body relaxed on the couch. “You’re staying here. I better not find you anywhere else when Arthur and I come home.”

You lifted your head up and stared at him with an eyebrow raised, “where’re you taking him?”

The corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes lit up slightly before he put on his stern facade once more. “Just to the village. I need to pick up a few things.”

“And you need him why…?”

“Well, I can’t go without someone helping me! I’m an old man after all.” He started to nudge Arthur towards the door and slipped his shoes on.

“You’re only thirty six, but whatever. Arthur, be good for my dad.”

“Alright (y/n), feel better soon!” He gave you a bright smile before he was pulled out of the house by Philza.

You tried to read, but the nagging worry for Arthur in the back of your mind never allowed for you to be immersed in your book. You knew Philza would never let anything happen to him, but you couldn’t help but worry whenever Arthur wasn’t in your line of sight. You supposed that it was a part of being an avian hybrid; you needed to constantly know if the child was alright. You tried to force yourself to go to sleep, but the pain prevented you from doing so, so you ended up mindlessly watching the seconds tick by on the clock. Before you knew it, your eyes closed and you were put in a light slumber.

You were awoken by the front door opening and laughter filling the house. You cracked open your crusty eyes and groaned as you sat up. You looked at the two with bleary eyes. Arthur was laughing at something Philza said as the blond looked over at you. “Hey hun, you feelin better?”

“Yeah a bit. What’d you get at the village?”

“Just some things for dinner. Arthur, wanna help me cook?”

Arthur, being the walking ball of sunshine that he was, nodded vigorously and started to drag the older man to the kitchen. Furrowing your brow, you called out to them, “do you want me to help?”

“No, stay there. Don’t come in!” Arthur’s excited voice shouted back to you, making you raise a brow at his words. You couldn’t lie, you felt nervous at his words. Just what did he have in store for you? Occasionally, you could hear yelps and bangs, which made you want to go into the kitchen even more. But you held off, trusting Philza.

About an hour and a half passed before you were summoned to the kitchen by an overly excited Arthur. Once in the kitchen, you were in slight awe. Spread out on the table was your favorite meal with the addition of fresh cookies left to cool on the stovetop. “All this for me?”

They smiled at you as Arthur ushered you to your spot at the table. “I… don’t know what to say. I- thank you guys.”

“Don’t thank me, it was all Arthur’s idea. I just helped.” Philza looked over at the blushing boy with a smile.

You reached over to ruffle his hair, “well, thank you Arthur. You know me too well, these are all my favorites!”

The boy bashfully smiled at you, “there’s something else too, but that’s for after dinner.”

You put a hand against your heart, touched, “Two surprises in one day? Ender, you’re spoiling me!” Arthur laughed at you.

Dinner went by fast with light-hearted laughter bouncing throughout the kitchen. The dinner and cookies tasted amazing, your taste buds felt like they were in heaven. After dinner, Arthur drug you to your room with an excited Philza following you two. On your bed sat your wing, but it had colorful things attached to the surface. Furrowing your brow, you looked closer to find various magnets sticking to the iron surface.

They ranged from the nonbinary flag to small mobs to little puns (your favorite ones were ‘olive you’ and ‘bird puns fly right over my head’). You could feel your smile widening at every magnet you saw, your wing fluttering in happiness. One of the magnets made you stop completely though as you stared at it with wide eyes. It was simple, but oh did it make your heart sing in joy and your eyes fill with tears. On the magnet, in big, bold letters were the words ‘world’s best parent’.

“Arthur…” You looked at him through blurred vision. He looked nervous, looking anywhere but at you and shifting on the balls of his feet. You lunged forward and pulled him into a tight hug and wrapped your wing around him, making sure he was as close to you as possible.

Philza watched the exchange with a soft smile before he decided to let you two have some privacy. His heart was full of happiness as he walked downstairs to clean up the kitchen with a bounce in his step and his wings fluttering uncontrollably. He was ecstatic to officially welcome Arthur to his family. Sure, he had a small hand in leading Arthur over to the ‘world’s best parent’ magnet, but it was Arthur that picked out the magnet for you. He knew you were going to make a fantastic parent.

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[hansolmates]

hoshi; vowels and veracity (m)

summary: after a blind date that makes you feel like a giddy teenager all over again, you’re forced to grow up and take a chance when you realize that special someone is your daughter’s kindergarten teacher. pairing: teacher!soonyoung x single mother!reader genre/warnings: fluffity fluff nuggets, humor, a lil bit of angst when yn panics, *steve rogers voice* language! alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap the pickle before u tickle), face sitting w/c: 5.2k a/n: i really have nothing to say about this but i’ve been thinking about going back to school all week so this manifested. enjoy a lil sexy but sweet hosh💕 

“Y-you,” another giggle and the press of wet lips to the sensitive spot of your neck, “stop, Soonyoung! I’m ticklish there!” 

You feel a pout imprint itself in the sweet spot between your ear and your jaw, and you sigh at the rumble of his lips against your skin, “But you taste so sweet, baby,” he croons, and you’re practically melting between the door with how much Soonyoung has pressed himself against you, all of himself. 

“What if I don’t wanna stop, pretty girl?” he husks against your soft skin, whispering things in your ear that aren’t for the faint of heart. In your haste to keep a firm grip, one hand goes to his clothes and the other nips at the undercut of his midnight black hair, “what if I just open the door right now and we slip right in, and then I slip right in you?” 

Your breath hitches and suddenly your core feels like a timebomb, ready to combust. 

Go on a date, Joshua says. He’s a sweet guy, Joshua says. He’s a friend of Joshua’s, so you know going into this blind date that at the very least, he wasn’t a serial killer. But what Joshua failed to tell you going into this was how much Kwon Soonyoung packed and how much of a temptor in disguise he is. 

“I really would love to invite you in,” it looks like it pains Soonyoung to admit this, as he presses his forehead to yours and the edge of his fingers dig into your crushed emerald velvet number, “but tomorrow’s the first day of work and I am not emotionally prepared. But, I do want to see you again. I had a great time.” 

The previous mood melting into the night sky, you reluctantly let go of the lapels of his tweed blazer. Unable to suppress your crestfallen smile you nod, “That’s fine,” you reply, inching away from him to send him a pointed look, “I wouldn’t have gone inside anyway. I don’t put out on the first date,” you cross your arms in an attempt to feign nonchalance.  

Which isn’t a lie, although if Soonyoung had asked you two minutes ago to come inside for a cup of tea, you wouldn’t have argued. He is just that tempting. Said date raises an eyebrow in response, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear at the defiance in your eyes. “Oh?” he echoes, “then what date do you put out?” 

“Date seven.” 

“Lucky seven,” he grins, “so if we go on a date every day this week by Friday we should be good to go. How do you feel about steak?” 

You slap his shoulder in his response, and the giggle that erupts from his lips in response has you feeling dizzy and giddy with excitement. Soonyoung has you feeling like a college freshman all over again, floating like Cloud 9 and drunk in anticipation. You peck one, two more kisses on his lips. He tastes like the peach champagne you shared and his own scent as he pulls you in for a much longer, much hotter kiss. 

“Good luck on your first day,” you mumble against his lips, vaguely remembering that he’s a teacher in a school nearby. 

“Mm, text me when you get home,” and with a final kiss to your forehead he unlocks his door, leaving you warm and full of heart-eyes on his front porch. 

The walk home, more like float home, has you feeling all parts exhausted and hopeful for the days to come. For the first time in a long time you feel young and unbridled, thrumming with excitement. Now you’re just playing with your phone, waiting to exchange goodnight texts. 

“Nari’s asleep,” when you walk into your shared apartment, you spot a sleepy Seungkwan on his laptop and sprawled across your couch. “How was it?” 

“It was reealllly nice,” you’re still a little wine tipsy, drunk on the taste of Merlot and a certain someone’s kisses, “he was really sweet, and surprisingly sexy.” 

“Did you get dicked down?” Seungkwan asks only the most important questions. 

You scoff, flopping down on the couch next to him, “As if, we have work in the morning.” 

“Speaking of work, are you sure you’re not able to drop off Nari to school tomorrow? It’s her first day of kindergarten.” 

“I can’t,” saying it feels absolutely awful, but a single mother has to work extra hard to keep her and her daughter happy. 

“It’s fine,” Seungkwan easily waves you off and runs a hand through his fluffy auburn hair, “her favorite Uncle is there, anyway.” 

“Hey,” you lightly punch his arm, “I’ve already talked Nari through it. I’m cooking a big breakfast tomorrow—chocolate chip pancakes, duh, and taking a million pictures before we have to part ways. I packed a little Kit-Kat for her lunch with a sweet note. When I come back in time for dinner I promised her pizza from her favorite parlor and she can tell me everything about her day.” 

“So, you’re bribing her with food.” 

“Sue me, it’s every parent’s weak spot.” 

Seungkwan stretches his arms, cradling you between his chest. You sigh into his clean linen scent, feeling sleepy. “Yeah, I’ve bribed her with my Switch once or twice,” he admits softly, eyes also drooping, “but you’re a great mother regardless. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything tomorrow.” 

“Thanks, Kwannie,” you sigh, feeling more at ease. 

Nari is the light of you and Seungkwan’s life. Five years ago, you promised yourself that if you were more than financially stable and still sick with baby fever, you would adopt. You didn’t want to find a romantic partner for the sole purpose of having a child, you could easily do that on your own. And that you did, you researched and visited foster homes off in the countryside. 

In a little town off the coast of the shore was where you met Nari, only six months old and full with cherub cheeks and eyes that sparkled like the moon and stars. You fell in love with her instantly. Fast forward five years later and she’s the reason you wake up every morning and work hard every day. Seungkwan being your best friend, also wanted rights as the godfather and therefore is also part of your perfect family picture. 

You and Seungkwan sleep warmly tonight, both excited to share yet another year of Nari’s milestones. 

“And then Mr. Kwon said I was an ‘ace’ with my vowels!” Nari has a string of cheese hanging from her chin, and you don’t bat an eye as you reach to pat it away with a napkin. 

“I wouldn’t expect any less, baby,” you coo, carding a hand through her hair so her bangs don’t get caught in her meal, “remember when mommy and Uncle Kwannie taught you the vowels this summer? We sang that song.” 

“Yes! I sang the same song and showed everyone how ‘ta do it,” your heart is swelling with pride, and you fight the urge to tear up because Seungkwan’s already showing signs of waterworks from his side of the table, “I read a book Mr. Kwon gave me today and he said he’s so impressed I read at a Level B.” 

You quirk your brows at the new jargon. You certainly don’t know what it means to be a Level B, but it makes Nari happy and that’s all that matters. Wiping the orange grease off her lips, you muse that you must get in contact with her teacher one of these days.

“What’s a Level B?” Seungkwan similarly looks stumped at the new vocabulary. 

“I don’t know!” Nari shrugs, but nevertheless her teacher’s attention has her glowing. 

You giggle, “I’m so happy for you, baby.” 

“I’m excited to go back tomorrow, I made a new friend! His name is Jeonghan and he helped me with my numbers today. He called my bows cute.” 

“Cute?” Seungkwan perks up from his stupor, “of course you’re cute, Nari. So cute that you’re too good for this Jeonghwan boy.” 

“Jeonghan, Uncle Kwannie,” she pouts when Seungkwan scoffs, in favor of shoving half a slice in his mouth. She turns to you, tugging on your blazer, “Mama, can I go watch TV now? I finished my homework and I wanna see the new Ladybug and Cat Noir!” 

“Of course,” you pull away her plate, gesturing for her to go to the living room. 

“Thank you mama,” and she’s bouncing off her seat, pushing her chair in and off to watch Miraculous Ladybug. 

You sigh, “They grow up so fast.” 

Seungkwan’s eyes widen at your age-old phrase, the words reminding him oddly of his parents when they used to talk down to him. “And here we are, aging twice as fast,” Seungkwan bemoans, already starting to feel the greasy food settle in his stomach. “We used to eat a whole pie! We could eat absolute garbage back in college and here I am weak at two slices—oh my god, am I having a ‘back in my day’ moment? We need to go out. I need to go out. I’ve been practicing consonants and vowels all day. I need a boyfriend,” he playfully narrows his eyes at you, “I need a boyfriend like yours, sweet and sexy.” 

“Sorry,” you stick out your tongue, “but he’s mine.” 

Perfect timing, Soonyoung’s name pops up on your phone. You two have been texting sporadically throughout the day, making plans for your next date. The two of you are going to watch a drive-in movie, a situation that screams teenage-back-of-the-truck-sex but the movie is a much anticipated favorite of yours and you genuinely want to watch it. 

Soonyoung is full of humor and laughs, getting you to smile and relax at the right times during work and always manages to keep you on your toes whenever he says something flirtatious. 

“Are you gonna introduce him to Nari?” 

You stop typing, and look up towards your beautiful little girl in the living room. Her hair is out of her pigtails, drooping tiredly like she is. Her cheek is pressed against her favorite plush cat, fighting for consciousness because she’s waiting for Marinette to save the day. Your heart swells with affection. 

“Dunno,” you shrug, trying not to think too hard about it, “we’re not that serious right now.” 

You’re absolutely winded. You finished work early today, due to the fact that came in early so you could clock out and pick Nari up from school. Despite the fact that Nari says it’s okay for you not to pick her up, you can’t allow it and you want to be the one who she runs into when she comes out the door. 

“Who do you think she’s gonna hug first?” Seungkwan’s elbowing you, baiting you. “Because this morning she gave me a hug and three kisses before I dropped her off.” 

“Three?” you seethe in annoyance, “three kisses is our thing! Two on the cheek and one on the forehead!” 

The two of you slowly steep together, waiting for the colorful blue door to the kindergarten area to file out. The heel of your shoes are digging into the grass, probably making a needle-like  indentation in the dirt as you struggle not to seep into the lawn. You feel like you’re going to flop on your heels, wishing you could go run back into the car and find your flip-flops from last month’s beach trip. But before you could debate on the run the bell rings, and you’re on livewire when you see the students start to file out. 

Your smile grows ten-fold when you see Nari’s jaw drop in surprise, seeing you waiting for her. She fists whatever is in her hands in surprise, breaking into the cutest smile as she screams, “mama!” 

And you’re ready to hold your arms out and throw her around in circles, until you see who follows right behind her. 

Kwon Soonyoung is Nari’s kindergarten teacher. Kwon Soonyoung with his hair down and untextured, wearing a mint polo and looking nothing like the date you had the other night. He looks absolutely soft and so, you are weak. 

Kwon Soonyoung, the sexy deviant who sends you questionable texts and sends you funny puppy videos, is staring right at you and utterly confused when Nari rams straight into your hip. 

Momentarily distracted, you pepper your pretty daughter in kisses (all three of them, two cheeks and one forehead) and tell her how much you’ve missed her. Clearly she doesn’t miss you as much, as she’s waving around a picture she drew during playtime, one of her and Jeonghan in the sandbox. 

“Really, Nari,” Seungkwan mutters under his breath, shamelessly vocalizing his opinion on a five-year old, “can’t you choose a different friend?” 

“Seungkwan!” you chide, but he pointedly annoys you when Nari finally enters Seungkwan’s embrace. He takes extra time to cuddle her, obviously jealous that another boy has taken refuge in your little Nari’s heart. 

The moment is so sweet and simple you have no choice but to revel in it and take out your phone to snap a photo. 

“Mama!” she pops her head off of Seungkwan’s shoulder, “come meet Mr. Kwon!”

And she’s tugging your hand, only you’re much stronger and you stay firmly planted on the grass. Heck, you even sacrifice your shoes by digging your heels in for extra measure.Your eyes widen in panic, but Nari doesn’t notice because she’s paving a path of dirt with her lime green light-up sneakers, trying to get you to move. You nearly forgot your latest tryst is your daughter’s teacher, and you never told him you have a kid. 

But within seconds, there’s an audible slam and the three of you are shattered from your bubble. Turning to the noise the heavy navy door is now locked shut, all the students dismissed for the day. The crowd is gone. Soonyoung is gone. 

Seungkwan’s eyes dart between the closed door and you, the pieces clicking. His mouth forms a little ‘o’ and he nods in understanding. “He thinks I’m your baby daddy.” 

The two of you point out each other like the Spiderman meme. “He thinks you’re my baby daddy,” you echo, horror marrying your face. 

“Mama? What’s a baby daddy?” 

“Shh, Nari—” he picks up Nari in one swoop, mouthing a go to you as he leads her to the car. 

All alone on the grass, you panic as you watch your family grow smaller and smaller as they enter the parking lot. Soonyoung’s just behind that door, right? Looking left and right to assure no one is going to think you’re being that parent and harassing the teacher within the first week of school, you bound up the steps to knock on the door. Your knocks clang heavily, echoing against the building. 

Ten seconds pass. Nothing. 

You deflate, pulling out your phone to shoot Soonyoung a quick text. 

You: hey, can you come out for a bit so i can explain? Please

A minute passes. He leaves you on read. Defeated, you slump against the door. This day is really a whirlwind on your mental state. All you wanted today was some extra time off work, Nari’s three kisses, and maybe a goodnight text from Soonyoung if you were lucky. 

The door suddenly flips open, and you’re braced against someone’s hands. 

“Whoa, you okay?”

Your face crumples in relief when it’s Soonyoung that’s come out to respond to you. He’s bracing your weight by holding your arms between his hands, although keeping a respectable distance between the upper half of your bodies. It makes you a little upset, but you understand. Once you’re stable, he lets you go and leans away from you.

“Why are you waiting out here?” he asks pointedly, looking at you up and down. You seem terribly overdressed in your coral pinstripe suit, mismatching with Soonyoung’s apple sauce stains. 

“Why do you think I’m waiting out here?”

“And if I close the door again?” he retorts suddenly. 

“Then I’ll follow you home.” 

A beat passes, whatever expression he conveys on his face is practiced and primed. You have a terrible time trying to decipher his blankness. Working with kids probably does that to an adult. “Come in,” he says neutrally, and you wordlessly follow him into his classroom. 

The room is decorated beautifully, with rainbows and glitter. It’s also surprisingly organized, all the crayons in place and the play area free of stray toys. Your eyes instantly search for Nari’s desk, and a small smile fits on your face as you trace her handmade name tag. 

“Normally, I don’t let parents in my room until it’s Back to School Night,” Soonyoung says, leaning against his desk. It makes you terribly nervous, knowing the ball is in your court and he’s waiting for you to make a move. His carefree, easy going nature is nowhere to be found, and all you see is walls and a mean poker face. He pulls up the sleeves of his polo, exposing pale, strong arms. Your mouth waters a little (you can’t help it!) and you immediately reach for a bottle of water in your purse. “So, what is it you have to say?” 

“Seungkwan’s not my baby daddy,” you blurt, and you immediately blanch when Soonyoung’s eyes widen. “Wow uh. I didn’t mean to say it like that.” 

“But you did say it like that,” Soonyoung replies slowly, “no child just doesn’t give three kisses to someone who isn’t their father.” 

“I only called him my baby daddy because he said it first,” you grumble, almost childishly, “and Nari’s a baby, of course she’s going to give three kisses to anyone that feeds her and coddles her.” 

“It sounds like an excuse.” 

“It sounds like I’m freaking out because you keep talking back and forth like this!” you cry, slapping your hands against your thigh. You don’t have to look in a mirror to know that you’re quickly getting annoyed, your face morphing into a shade of embarrassment. You can’t tell if this is amusing him or this is a real interrogation. “Let me explain, Soonyoung!” 

He says your name slowly, deliberately. And then, “do you want to take a break in the Calm Down Corner?” 

“The—the what?” Soonyoung’s eyes flicker to a corner at the far end of the room. The radiator is decorated in a sky blue wallpaper, and there’s a yoga mat on the floor. There are chairs next to a desk filled with coloring pages, decorated with fairy lights. Filling three of the chairs are various stuffed animals, a tiger, a cat, and a panda, all dressed as doctors. It’s a child’s therapy corner. “You gotta be kidding me.” 

He raises a brow, and—is that a smile on his lips? “Then explain, why are you here?” 

“Because I think I really like you,” you confess, frustration melting away to reveal the uneasy upturn on your lips. You lied when Seungkwan asked if you would ever consider introducing Soonyoung to Nari. In a different world, you would’ve loved to take the time to take Nari to the museum and introduce Soonyoung there. They’d definitely bond over their love for tigers. “Seungkwan is my best friend, and helps me take care of Nari. I adopted her five years ago.” 

Something softens in Soonyoung’s eyes, and the air feels much more relaxed. But his dark brows remain knit together, and he looks at you with confused eyes. “Then if you like me so much, why didn’t you tell me you had a daughter?”

“Because kids can be deal breakers,” you admit, and the colorful classroom feels smaller as you hug yourself. “I just, wanted you to like me first.” 

It’s the primary reason why it’s taken you so long to date. Sure, there’d be a fling here and there, but nothing that feels as tangible as Soonyoung is. You’re not old enough to find a partner that wouldn’t blink at the sign of children, yet you’re still at that weird age threshold where a partner could immediately run for the hills at the mention of one. Nothing will top Nari, she’s number one in your heart, but the small selfish part wanted you to put the focus on yourself for just one night. 

“You don’t have to hide, I want every part of your life no matter how long we have,” he assures you gently, firmly without an ounce of regret. Soonyoung opens his arms, and you cry in relief when you get to collapse in the scent of his cologne. You tuck your head in the crook of his neck, slightly sweaty from whatever activities he needs to do with the kids, but you don’t mind. His voice is quiet, melting in your ears, “and I really like you too. I really like Nari as well, she’s a great kid.” 

“She is, isn’t she?” 

You two pull away, and he swipes a thumb under your eyes in case some tears manage to escape. “So, Friday? Movie?” 

“It’s a date.” 

“Where’s Nari?” the question is huffed against your breath as you’re pressed between your freshly washed bedspread and Soonyoung’s body. He takes care in making sure the zipper of your delicate dress doesn’t get caught in the rush, easily slipping your dress off and throwing it on your desk chair. 

“At Seungkwan’s, why?” 

His cheshire cat eyes glow under the moonlight, positively devious. “It’s date seven,” he announces sweetly. His gaze betrays his saccarine reply, a look that only tells you that Soonyoung plans to fuck you five ways to Sunday, and you’ll gladly let him. 

You sit up on your elbows, enjoying the show as Soonyoung quickly sheds his clothing. It’s ungraceful, exciting. Tonight was a simple carnival date, easily making you feel like a giddy college student all over again. Soonyoung won you five Pokemon keychains today, you could put a whole party on your hand. 

“It’s actually date six,” you tease, tilting your head as his pants finally come off, revealing black boxer briefs that snug deliciously around the waist. 

“Oh, okay,” he looks at you like you’ve spoken God’s word, reaching to pick up his shirt, “so you don’t want my dick fucking you raw tonight? Okay, I see how it is,” he pretends to put on his clothing, jabbing a thumb out the door. 

You have the audacity to giggle, pulling him over by the waistband, “Come here so I can make an exception.”

You don’t know what it is that makes you want you want to give everything to this man. Heck, five years ago you didn’t even want a man as an excuse to have kids. But as he nudges you in all the right places and places you on top of him, you know this man will treat you like an absolute treasure. Every kiss is laced with smiles and sweetness, filled with vigor and vivacity that fills you up and leaves you afloat. 

He takes care of you first, unwilling to let you budge as he places your core over his face. He makes quick, but effective use of his tongue and fingers, making sure you’re nice and sensitive for his future plans. You’re practically throbbing with pleasure, vibrating from every cell of your body. Within minutes he’s glistening in your arousal, and he pulls you down so you’re lined up with his crotch. It’s involuntary when you pulse against his member, your body shamefully alerting you that it’s desperate with need, and the remedy is right under you. 

Soonyoung looks more satisfied than you, eager to please you. Without warning, he stuffs two fingers in your mouth, “You pretty, pretty girl,” you are keen at the attention, your body is glowing a radiant rose. 

Your tongue rolls against his fingers, sticky and tasting of your arousal. Tilting your hips up you let Soonyoung pull his member out, lining it against your entrance. Feeling the soft tip brush against your delicate folds, you moan against his mouth. With a little ‘pop’ he releases you, lips shiny and parted. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m some kind of hit-it-n’quit-it kind of guy,” he noses the sensitive spot of your jawline, which distracts you momentarily when the plush tip nudges your folds, coaxing you to unite. “Because after tonight, I’m definitely keeping you. Forever.” 

The reply that dances on your tongue is overtaken by your whines when Soonyoung slips in fully, forcing your body to clench tightly against his. You take him, all of him. You feel wet and sticky and hot and swollen with affection as Soonyoung praises you for taking him so well. His pace is firm and passionate, short nails digging deliciously into your hips for leverage as he makes sure to fill you to the brim. 

He’s right, tonight is far from being a means to an end. You feel like you can have nights like this the rest of your life. And when the both of you finish and you’re pulling the covers over one another, you finally manage to grasp the reply that was nearly forgotten. 

Pressing a kiss to his jaw you whisper, “I’m keeping you, too.” 

“So, how long can we keep this a secret for?”

“Ideally? Ten months. Realistically, I’d say Christmas.” 

“Why Christmas?” 

“Because I know you’re going to be dying to get Nari a Christmas present.” 

Soonyoung props his elbow on the pillow, looking at you petulantly. “I could say it’s a good behavior reward. She’s been racking up those gold stars during morning meetings, babe. She’s not even trying.” 

“That’s my girl,” you coo, rolling over to lean your head on his chest. Light has long flooded into your apartment, seeping through your curtains and reflecting on your white duvet. Soonyoung looks absolutely fluffy and well rested, and you can’t help but reach to pat down the ebony bird’s nest atop his head. 

The two of you lay like that for a little bit, playing with each other’s cold feet under the covers and relishing under the touch of bare skin to bare skin. You remind yourself that you need to take Joshua out to dinner one of these days, as he managed the inevitable and set you up with  an amazing partner. 

“Breakfast?” Soonyoung pops the question easily, “let’s get steak.”

“Steak isn’t eaten for breakfast.” 

“Then can I eat you for breakfast?” 

You snort, hiding under the covers while Soonyoung attempts to tickle you. The whole act in itself feels wholly innocent despite the fact that you’re both naked and smell like sweat and sex. Just as you feel Soonyoung’s head dip under the covers to meet you at your chest, the door swings open. 

“Mama!” 

The previously warm room feels like wickedly sharp ice, freezing you to your spot as you clutch the covers closer to your chest. “Baby!” you cry exasperatedly, flinching when she throws all her weight on you. She’s still in her ladybug pajamas from last night, hair falling out of her braid. 

She lifts her head from your breast to give you an adorable one-toothed grin. You try your best to maintain eye-contact, but Nari has impeccable vision. Her grin evolves into a full-on beam when she finds your bed partner.

“Mr. Kwon!” she’s squealing, clamoring over your lap. You do a double-take when you see Soonyoung sitting next to you, wearing a t-shirt. Where on earth did he get that?

Soonyoung’s eyes reduce to crescents at his (secretly) favorite student. “Good morning, Nari-ah. Had a fun time at your Uncle’s house?” 

“Nari,” you force your daughter down to stand on the hardwood, giving her a stern look, “give Mr. Kwon some space, it’s really early and it’s the weekend.” 

Knitting her brows together, she looks between the two of you, “But you two don’t have any space.” 

You wince at her perception, and nudge yourself away so you’re pressed against your nightstand. The oakwood corner digs painfully into your back. 

“We were haviång a very special parent meeting,” you fight the urge to cry when Soonyoung turns on his teacher's voice, sending your daughter a very convincing smile. You watch as your daughter’s eyes go wide, probably feeling very special that her teacher came all the way to her house to have a meeting. “You’ve been doing so well during the read-alouds that I had to tell your mama in person!” 

“I told you mama!” Nari juts out her chest, and you lean over to kiss the crown of her head. “But Mr. Kwon, why are you having it in mama’s room?” 

“Her room is the warmest!” he says like it’s the most obvious thing, his and Nari’s eyes widening simultaneously as he gestures to the open window. “The sun travels directly into your bedroom in the morning, and those rays send heat—”

“Mr. Kwon,” your voice is as steady as it can be, and  you frown when Soonyoung wiggles his brows. You already know he’s thinking of three separate ways you can use the term Mr. Kwon in private, but you’re not having any of that, “shouldn’t we uh, wrap up this… meeting?” 

“I wanna stay,” Nari glowers, obviously nosy as to what you two are talking about.

“I know baby. We just gotta finish up the meeting, okay? Can you—” you cut  yourself off when Seungkwan finally decides to make his appearance, eyes wide at commotion he’s created. He’s in matching pajamas, ridiculously red as he bends down to scoop up Nari. Absolutely sweating and as red as his clothes, his eyes dart between the two of you. You could care less that Seungkwan’s eyes have bags under their bags, and was probably too tired to catch her when she ran inside the house. No, Seungkwan doesn’t deserve the title of godfather anymore. 

“Nari! You can’t interrupt teacher meetings,” Seungkwan pretends to scold, and Nari turns her head so she can hide in her Uncle’s shoulder. 

Knowing that Nari can’t see a thing, you mouth a very explicit I will kill you to your best friend, and he immediately mouths an apology to the both of you as he ushers himself out the door. You wait ten seconds for your daughter to be out of ear shot, before dropping the blanket from your neck and throwing yourself against the pillows. 

But Soonyoung’s chuckling, pressing a litany of kisses all over your bare body in an attempt to comfort you. Instead of reveling in his lazy morning touch, you want to disappear between the sheets, never to be seen. What will the PTO moms say when they find out? How will you stop Nari from telling Jeonghan, and therefore Jeonghan telling the entire kindergarten population? Why isn’t Soonyoung freaking out about this? Instead, he favors to taste your body, in between kisses muttering something about it being kismet that Nari so happened to see right as you were discussing the secrecy of your relationship. Ten years from now, your daughter will be horrified when she realizes that no, teachers don’t normally give housecalls in your mother’s bed.

Your boyfriend pinches your thigh, regarding you with mirth in his eyes. 

“So, that means I can buy her a Christmas present now, right?” 

[sharuruwrites]

Missing You Pt.1

Timeline: Gojo: 24 Shion: 23

A/N: Next chapter will be from Shion's perspective. I do apologize in advance if your favorite Six-eyes curse user is a bit OOC or too OOC for your tastes. I just don't know how to incorporate his usual menace in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Jujutsu Kaisen, and if I did, I’ll just end the manga at Shibuya Arc. Lol.

Masterlist

Previous chapter / Next Chapter

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

"Don't get much into trouble, okay?"

Shion received a wave from Tsumiki and a nod from Megumi as they went for school. She should wake up Gojo from his ten-hour sleep. Though she had a feeling: he will still be late with his usual 8 minutes. With three sharp knocks on their bedroom door, the white-haired man wakes up from his sleep. It takes him a full minute to get his bearings as he went to the bathroom to freshen up. A sigh escapes from her lips as her chest fills with worry when she saw his state.

Last night, he got home in time for dinner from his mission, but he ended up falling asleep. Exhaustion hits him hard after a week of nonstop exorcising curses and his teaching job. During that week, He was running on copious amounts of sugar and caffeine to stay awake. That fact alone made her cook a traditional Japanese breakfast. If this happens again, someone will be crashing into a higher-up's meeting. Gojo won't threaten someone; Shion will be the one doing it.

A few minutes passed by; They bask themselves in comfortable silence while eating their breakfast. This kind of peace is rare to have for people like them. But, Gojo, being Gojo, decides to test his wife's tolerance for the day. The jar of sugar cubes calls his name for him to put in his coffee.

He didn't drop one...

Two...

Three...

Four...

Five...

But six sugar cubes into his cup as he stirs it. He took a sip and let a hum in satisfaction. It's a known fact to everyone who knew him that he has a sweet tooth. The amount of sugar he's inhaling made Shion be surprised and cringed. If curses or curse users don't kill him, diabetes will get him. Her train of thoughts disrupted with his voice.

"By the way," He started. "Anything big coming up this week?"

"Tonight, I'll be leaving for a month-long business trip."

She begins to explain her upcoming trip. According to her, an acquaintance of Mei mei, named Fei, requests her aid in an upcoming mission in London. She doesn't know much of the details, but there's a high chance the perpetrator may be a curse user or a group of it. As for the month-long trip, it's because the murders happen sporadically.

"And you didn't tell me?! Your husband-"

"Before you remind me that I'm married to you for four years and counting," Shion interrupted him. "I was going to tell you last night, but you immediately fall asleep when you got home."

"Anyways," She changed the topic before he becomes more extra than he already is. "Is there a specific souvenir you want me to bring?"

"Give me kisses then!" He may sound like he's joking, which he is. The man didn't care much what he's going to get from her. His answer's purpose is to get a reaction from the woman and tease her for it. What a sight to behold, to see her face red from embarrassment. It also gives him the satisfaction that only he could do that.

"Alright," She wipes her mouth with a tissue as she gets up from her seat. "I'll give you lots of it, Satoru, when I got back." Without sparing him a glance, she left the table to start packing her things in their shared bedroom.

He did not realize what happened until he heard their bedroom door close. He's fucking glad right now that the latter did not see his face. It is rare for someone like Gojo to have the tips of his ears and cheeks become red. Throughout their relationship, they kissed two times; one is their wedding day, and the second is there's nothing going on between them. That's it, nothing more than the usual hugs or hand-holding that he initiates.

Does this mean she finally realizes her feelings towards him? It's not that he likes her or anything. He felt weird when he thinks this question. Their marriage is already complicated, to begin with. And he's sure that both of them don't need romance added to the equation.

The missions and the responsibilities he has will make him busy enough not to care. There's also the fact he's currently helping his junior, Nanami Kento. To get him back on his feet for his return as a Jujutsu Sorcerer.

He'll be fine, right?

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

Oh, how wrong he was.

The first week was alright for him. As he predicted, he was preoccupied with his work. Sometimes, Megumi had to remind Gojo of the fact Shion is away for a month. Why did the young Fushiguro do this? Because the child noticed his guardian waiting for a certain ravenette to come home.

Besides this, Nanami heard Gojo mumbling hours. Later, he found out the blindfolded man counts down the hours when he can talk to Shion. The blonde man could only shake his head at his recent discovery.

When the second week rolled by, he sometimes skips on his duties to have more time with Shion. Their conversations went from the progression of the mission into checking with each other. Without his knowledge, he unconsciously smiles when he hears her voice or reads her texts. However, a bittersweet feeling forms in his chest after their conversation ends.

That feeling bothered him until Yaga had to check on him. The principal was going to scold his former student for his recent skipping. But because of his early arrival for once, it made him forget it.

At this point, he knew he's fucked by the end of the week. How? He felt disappointed when Shion told him she's unavailable to reply after their conversation. Because of a sudden development in the mission. It leads him to vent out on someone in the middle of the night in his third week. Unfortunately, this someone is his fellow alumni, Shoko Ieri.

The doctor should be at home right now, enjoying her glass of wine while she's watching those shitty soap operas. Instead, she patiently waits for him to finish telling his story, and one thing came to her mind:

"For someone who's boasting as the smartest sorcerer, you're dumb."

Honestly, she's a bit surprised at his problem. She thought he would never acknowledge the feelings he had for their junior. But here they are, trying to figure out why he feels this way. The answer is so simple that Shoko wants to lit a cig. He simply misses her, but he's an idiot and too arrogant for him to simply accept it.

"Are you already drunk, Shoko?" He asks, "I don't see how this is any different." He had his fair share of trips that involves either going overseas or locally. This also wasn't the first time they have to adjust to the difference in time zones when they have a chat.  

The doctor tried so hard not to be annoyed at his question. She's drinking a cooler, for god's sake."When did Shion call you first?" She questioned. "Based on what I have heard, it's always you who calls her first."

Now that she mentioned it, it's always him who initiates the conversation first. He could count on his fingers the many times she's the one who called him first. Most of those phone calls are for emergency reasons or errands.

"There's a proverb that suits your current predicament, Gojo," Shoko says before she took a sip of her drink. "Absence makes the heart grown fonder."

His thoughts interrupted when he saw his phone lit up. He ignores the smug look on his friend's face when she saw the caller id. He brought his phone next to his ear and cannot help but feel the excitement. What is he getting excited for? Did he miss her that much?

"Satoru?"  

  Ah...there it is...that feeling again.

[foulcrownkryptonite]

Tracing Constellations

A storm rages through the 104th's wooded training quarters, leaving a long hike for Jean and Marco to fix a water-logged issue... the time alone making for some unexpected discoveries.

(for the sake of the fic + levels of maturity I am achieving with this story, everyone will be legal adults!)

Chapter One: An Obscurity.

“I’ll kill them all! Just you wait and see!!” The dining hall had been relatively calm, the tranquil buzz of steady conversation and cutlery clinking against plates mixed to create a pleasant hum. It was one of those rare nights their usual starchy glop was exchanged for a more sustainable, hearty potato soup, paired with a cheap but effective booze. A good night to say the least. A good night until Eren (Dumbass) Jaeger opened his obnoxious mouth. The young man’s tired phrase reverberated throughout the hall, pitching obnoxiously off the high ember ceiling. God, I’m too sober for this…

Eren’s endless prattling of ‘I’ll save the world’ or ‘I have more passion than anyone here’ had gotten old fast. It bugged the ever-loving shit out of him, and with the current daggers-for-eyes and under-the-breath-scoffs Jaeger was getting, the sentiment was well shared.

“Don’t give me that Mikasa, I mean it! I’m going to kill every last one of those-'' Eren was promptly cut off by Jean’s hands smacking the table in front of him, causing a nearby fork to clink to the ground. Jean rose from his seat with an overly dramatic flare, making a show out of swooping his hair back. If the entire dining hall weren’t already watching the pair with dreadful, tired looks, they certainly were now. Some hushed whispers and exasperated groans sprinkled about the room as Jean assumed his stance towering over Eren.

“Well, all hail King Jaeger, eh? Oh don’t worry my friends, the man who can’t balance on his ODM gear will stop the incoming apocalypse!” he taunted, voice oozing with that special kind of ridicule Jean knew got Eren’s blood boiling. He was up and out of his seat before Mikasa had a chance to pull him back. Jean snorted loudly.

“Eager are we? Well then Jaeger, fight me like the man you’re always claiming to be.”

“Says the fucking horse face”

“Oh how original”

“Foal!”

“Jackass!”

The surrounding cadets watched with jaded faces, sighing at the scene unfolding for at least the third time that week. It was no longer entertaining, or really worth wasting any time or energy on, so they returned their attention to their much more exciting dinners and side banters.

The ever arrogant duo stepped to the center of the room, assuming, of course, all focus to be on them. Sharing dissent and ill-bred sneers, they theatrically assumed their fighting position. Guess I’ll just have to put him back in his pla-

“Nope. Okay-hah, we’re done here.” Marco interrupted, their foolish behavior striking his last nerve, the last nerve of the entire collective dining hall for that matter. Sighs of relief and annoyance sounded around them as Marco marched over and grabbed at Jean’s jacket, pulling him out from the table and towards the door.

“‘Ey, what’re you doin-” Marco wordlessly dragged the half pissed, half confused and positively tipsy Jean across the room, the grip on his jacket unwavering. A small chuckle escaped Jean’s mouth at Marco's unexpectedly forceful behavior. Damn, those muscles aren’t just for show, huh?

Marco sighed as he led him towards the door, a poorly concealed smile creeping its way onto his features. “Bedtime.” Marco concluded, biting back his smile in need of a more threatening look. Jean didn’t fight it. Instead, he bristled as he caught Conny’s snide face before the door to the dining hall was shut by Marco’s boot. The low lit lantern illuminated the two in a soft orange glow and the thick wooden door effectively drowned out the murmurs coming from behind it.

The change in air was drastic, shifting from a crowded and loud mess hall to the peaceful sounds of an autumn night and Marco’s freckled face incandescent under that old lantern. Marco’s hand remained firm in the layers of his jacket yet neither made motions to move. Jean was in a weird sort of trance and yeah he should move and unblock the way for Marco but for some reason he didn't. It wasn’t as if the other had really given him a chance to, what with him still holding onto the front of Jean’s coat.. A couple still moments passed and Marco had a strange, almost calculating look on his face.

Jean couldn't remember how long he had been standing there, the alcohol starting to intoxicate his body and the sheer closeness of Marco starting to intoxicate his brain. But if the loosening grip on his chest and Marco’s suddenly flushing face said anything, whatever this was had gone on a bit too long. The last thing Jean wanted was to make his good friend uncomfortable- No matter how nice just standing there in the cool breeze with Marco’s hand on his chest… Nope. Backtrack on that line of thinking. Immediately.

Things were getting awkward fast and Marco looked like he was going to say something and shit he probably shouldn’t have chugged that last bit of his drink, huh? To clear the sudden tension caused by his inability not to fucking gawk at Marco, Jean did the only thing his dumb tipsy brain could think of: make a drunken escape.

“Betcha can’t catch me.” he blurted before breaking out of Marco’s loose hold, running towards their quarters in a less than put together fashion. Was Jean literally running away from whatever moment just passed between the two? Why yes, indeed he was. But Marco’s eventual breathy laugh and quickening footsteps enclosing in on him told Jean everything was fine. Well consider that a job well done.

The two then stupidly ran around the camp, Jean hiding behind every tree and supply wagon trying to scare Marco, and Marco doing everything in his power to tackle the other. After a particularly bone crushing embrace and a loud laughing fit quickly admonished by Shadis, the inebriated pair walked the rest of the way to their dorm, the air around them now whimsy and casual.

They trudged through the wooded path, torches lighting the ground every few yards. They sprung into sporadic fits of giggles over absolutely nothing, both of the men now feeling the full effects of dinner’ mead, and Marco no longer playing the role of the responsible sober friend.

The cadets had been training in the woods for a week now, the goal being to get them used to ODM gear and combat in a dense forest. It was a welcome change of scenery from the usual parching desert and brutal heat. Being surrounded by rich greens and active rivers somehow made the strenuous drilling and long hours somewhat enjoyable.

Though navigating the dark forested path whilst drunk proved to be more than a little difficult. His attempts at walking straight in the dense woods were apparently remarkably entertaining, as when Jean confidently waltzed straight into a tree the slightly less drunk Marco lost his absolute mind, laughing himself into a puddle on the ground.

With minimal bumps and bruises, they eventually made it to their quarters. Marco plopped himself dramatically onto an old shipping barrel and started to squirm his way out of his jacket. Ok, perhaps the other was drunker than Jean thought.

Chuckling to himself, he walked over to help his struggling friend out of the confines of the fabric. Marco stopped squirming and tried to accommodate for Jeans helping hands, flushing slightly when his eyes met Jeans. He quickly averted his gaze, turning to eye the door as Jean finished struggling with the last button.

With the jacket discarded, Marco straightened his gaze to look up at Jean, who seemed to tower over him. A couple heated seconds passed in silence until Marco started… shaking? Before concern could settle in, sporadic chuckles started to escape from the man underneath him, evolving into a full on belly laugh. Jean took a small step back and looked down at him in bewilderment but Marco just shook his head, words be damned in his current state.

“Sorry, I just-” he began to topple over himself, a fit of laughter bubbling in his stomach. “I don’t know why I’m laughing honestly-” he spat out through giggles. He was fluctuating between attempting to catch his breath and then losing it all over again. It was utterly ridiculous, but Jean couldn’t hold back his own ugly laugh at the scene. Every couple of seconds Marco would try to stop and speak through the laughter but to no avail, making Jean slump to the ground in front of Marco, clutching his stomach as his body heaved with mirth.

Marco was snorting at that point and on anyone else he would’ve been annoyed at the sheer volume. Say, if Eren was sitting on that barrel losing his damn mind over nothing at all he would’ve slapped the sense back into him. But something about Marco’s water filled eyes and big loud smile just made him feel warm. Or.. perhaps that was just the alcohol.

He grinned as he looked only at the mad man sitting in front of him. From this distance he could see each little freckle adorning his nose and cheeks and the way his nose would scrunch in between sets of giggles. It was an endearing sight, cute even, though Jean would never admit that aloud.

Too caught up in their snickering, the two almost didn’t notice their comrades briskly stumbling in, Ymir being the one who pushed the two large wooden doors hurriedly. “In.” she commanded, and stepped back as everyone else dashed inside. Jean startled and Marco’s laughter alleviated as Ymir eyed them, her face contorted so it was impressively indecipherable. She had quite the poker face, though some general annoyance seemed to seep out as usual.

“What’s the damn ruckus about?” Jean demanded more than he asked, his filter coming back down hard now that more people were around. Ymir looked at Jean with a face that basically read as, ‘Shut the fuck up you’re the one making a dopey ruckus.’ Instead of voicing any of that though, she shut and locked the door as the final cadets made their way inside.

“Massive storm coming in, it’ll do some damage” she stated plainly before her eyes went back to Marco. “Maybe you two lovebirds would’ve noticed if you weren’t screaming like damn hyenas.” she joked dryly, her arms coming to a close across her chest. Marco snorted slightly at the tease but Jean stood up defensively, though perhaps a bit wobbly.

Before he could say a word, Ymir cut in with a raised brow. “Whoaaa relax there horsey, I’m kidding. Mostly. Just go lock the windows in the other rooms before they blow out in the middle of the night.” he nodded hesitantly in response and gave Marco a floppy wave of sorts. He still looked like he was glowing, as if somehow the light from the torches outside still reflected in his pale brown eyes. A sneer from Ymir brought his attention back to… what exactly? Oh right, the windows. Jean quickly left without another word, cursing the alcohol slightly under his breath. The rest of the cadets shuffled about, fulfilling whatever it was their makeshift Captain Ymir ordered.

Not without a scoff and an eye roll, she turned back to Marco. “Just us,” she demanded. “Help me with the rest of the rooms.”

__________

(MARCO POV)

After a solid half hour of flood-proofing the place to the best of their ability, as well as general clean up, Ymir poured the two of them a small whisky to top off the night. Marco relaxed into the sole couch of the common room and Ymir slumped herself into a chair by the window.

The living space was dusky and growing winds pounded the windows, putting them slightly on edge. Nevertheless, Ymir seemed to have something to say to him. She gulped down her drink and tossed the empty glass onto the ground, Marco’s eyes widening in both awe and intimidation. He steeled his nerves as he prepared for whatever it was Ymir needed out of him.

She looked at him like a scientist to a specimen, searching for something upon Marco’s features. Marco squirmed under the intense stare, and it was then that Ymir asked the burning question, cutting right to the chase.

“Do you like Jean?” she probed. Marco sucked in a quick breath at this question. The answer was yes, but why was she asking in the first place? Not knowing exactly what angle she was getting at, he tried to answer in the simplest, most non revealing way.

“Yeah I mean we’re definitely good friends.” he said apprehensively. Not wanting to look Ymir in the eyes, his gaze fell back to the rather pretty glass in his hands, thumbs tracing the engraved pattern.

Ymir smirked at this reaction and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees in a carefree ‘Ymir’ kinda way. “Marco. You know what I'm asking.” her voice was laced with mirth and her sneering face told him she probably already knew his answer. Damn her perceptiveness. Marco had hoped he wasn’t too obvious in his… feelings. But he supposes after tonight's less than subtle antics, e.g., grabbing a laughing Jean into an animalistic embrace and holding it for much longer than necessary, people would start suspecting something.

His eyes still didn’t meet hers as he sighed shakily, knowing there was little to no backing away from this conversation. “Please just… Don’t tell him?” he pleaded, looking back to the girl sitting across from him. Her previous visible mockery and inevitable taunt had faded, her features setting into something akin to understanding.

“Sure, you can trust me.” she said casually, taking a swig of the remaining whisky straight from the bottle. “We’re the same in that way if ya catch my drift.” Although compared to, say Christa, Ymir’s words would seem invasive and rude, they were sweet in their own way. And although Marco wouldn’t say this wasn’t invasive, he appreciated the kindness nonetheless.

Regardless, Marco definitely “caught her drift”. He looked at her with a sort of twinkle in his eyes, pleased to know there was at least one other person in the 104th that wasn’t straight. He chuckled, still embarrassed despite the genuinely accepting nature of their conversation thus far. “God, what gave it away?”

“Oh, I dunno,” she sighed dramatically, “Maybe the way he was looking at you. Maybe the way you were looking at him… Or maybe just a hunch I happened to get right.” Marco laughed at the sentiment before a frown crept onto his face. “Does anyone else…”

“Know?” she finished. Marco nodded. “No, they don’t. It seems only I had the misfortune of seeing you two ogle each other all the damn time. Awful luck on my part. But don’t ya worry, your dirty little secret’s safe with me.”

He snickered as he raised his glass to his lips, downing the rest of the liquid inside. Ymir gave him a curious glance, and Marco softly set the drink down to his side, hands reaching up to grab at his warming face.

“God, what do I even do about it?” he mumbled through the palms of his hands, and Ymir could taste the desperation from where she sat.

Resting her chin between her fingers, she spoke. “Look, hear me out before you interrupt and tell me I’m wrong - but he likes you too.” Marco lifted his head to speak but Ymir cut him off with a glance. “I said, listen. I see the way he looks at you. I saw the way he looked at you tonight. He wasn’t just glancing at his friend… He was admiring you, Marco, your features. Now to me, that’s pretty telling.” Marco contemplated what she was saying, tried to really think about it before he shot it down entirely.

Is that really true? Is it even possible that the oh so straight Mr. ladies man Jean could… Feel the same way about him? It’s true they had some… moments tonight. Hell they’ve been having “moments” for as long as they've known each other. Though Jean did end up speeding away from one of those so called moments just over an hour ago… Was he being too hopeful? Oh god was he coming on too strong?

Ymir groaned at Marco's crestfallen face and stood up, closing the distance between the seats and plopping herself next to Marco. He gave her a curious glance, and in turn she gave a patient smile, well it was really closer to a grimace but still, it was the principle of it all.

He sat quietly, picking his lips with his bottom teeth. Ymir let him wallow in his worry for a whopping three seconds before kicking his ankle with her boot.

“Ow!” Marco pouted. An unspoken question of ‘The hell was that for?’ being shut down before it could be voiced.

“Oh shut it you were visibly spiraling.”

Ymir sunk into the back of the couch, pondering a moment before speaking again.

“You know, Jean isn’t going to initiate anything. Seeing as you’re more in tune with your emotions than that knucklehead is, you need to drop your damn balls and make a move.” Marco scoffed, shaking his head with a slight smile at Ymir’s bluntness.

“I know, I know… You’re right.” Marco finally begrudged, causing Ymir’s ‘Of course I'm right’ smile to appear. “But we never get alone time - we’re always interrupted before he can fully open up to me…”

“Yes!” Ymir exclaimed. “You see it now. Sure it might seem tricky, but if Christa and I can find a way, you can too.” she winked and Marco damn near choked.

“You- and- I had no idea I mean-“ he stuttered before she kicked him again.

“Shut up. And don’t tell a soul.” She smiled cheekily. He nodded intently.

“Course, Ymir.” She playfully punched him, standing up from the sunken couch.

“Good luck, Marco.” she whispered.

He beamed, his chest gleaming with a soft gratitude. “Thank you.”

When Marco turned in for the night, his mind raced with endless possibilities, ranging from transcendent to nightmarish. Wishful thoughts flashed through his mind; Jean getting impossibly close, feather light touches of hands, his head resting in the crook of Jean’s neck, Marco being told he was wanted, telling Jean he wanted him. He bit his cheek, smiling stupidly at the fantasies before he felt a deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Jean could easily not feel the same. Jean could easily have never entertained the same idyllic fantasies as Marco was now.

Great, now it hurt.

Plagued with a new sense of guilt, he tossed and turned in the seasoned cot, praying for sleep to take him away from the build up of emotions in his chest. He pondered the possibility of similar thoughts dancing in Jean’s mind…

__________

(Jean POV)

Jean didn’t “wake up”, he just was up. That damned storm last night had kept him awake practically all night. What first was an occasional gust quickly turned into a rampaging wind-demon set out to prevent him and apparently only him from sleeping soundly. Someone had cursed him. Probably that damn Jaeger out for revenge due to Jean always winning their feuds. Typical.

The little sleep he did get consisted of repeated unsolicited scenarios about… Well that didn’t matter now.

It was the morning after a ferocious storm and he was reluctant to see the wreckage he knew he had to help out with. He groaned, rolling out of his bed in an overly dramatic pout. Sure he was acting a bit like a child but right now he just needed sleep so damn everything else, he’s going to throw his little fit. He caught Marco looking at him out of the corner of his eye, his hair ruffled and looking extra fluffy. He was giggling at Jean’s stubborn theatrics, a sweater-hooded hand loosely covering his mouth. Cute. Jean felt a bit more energized after that and he didn't bother to question why.

Once dressed, he headed out to meet the rest of the trainees outside the sleeping quarters. Holy hell, the damage was bad: shingles of the roof scattered the grass, trash was knocked down, even some large trees had fallen in the distance.

Eren rolled his eyes before their commander could even step close. “God, can’t we make someone else clea-” the brat began before getting hit softly by Armin.

“Eren! One day of cleanup doesn’t equate to the fall of humanity.” he sharply retorted. Jean chuckled at this exchange, overjoyed to see the prick put in his place by his own best friend. Speaking of which, he couldn’t seem to spot Marco…

“ATTENTION CADETS.” their Commander roared as he marched toward the gathered crowd.

“YES SIR!” They yelled back in unison, fists crossing chests in an assertive salute.

“Deep woods ODM training is put on hold for today due to the storm. I will be assigning you each in groups of two or three to aid in cleaning this mess.” Jean scanned the surrounding area nervously, where was Marco? “Proceed to the front to get your duty from me before you grab a cold meal.” the Commander directed. Pairs of people made their way to get their job of the day, but Jean stayed behind, unable to spot Marco. Nerves crept up his spine as the line got shorter, indicating he would have to grab a job with someone he possibly couldn’t stand - especially after such a shitty sleep.

A few moments later and the remaining crowd was scant, still no Marco to be seen. “Jean, you’re on running water. I need you to go up to the creek and find the source stopping the water from running back to us. We have enough for the day, but this cannot go on. You will need a partner…” Shadis trailed off, finding only Annie and some guy Jean barely could remember the name of. Tomas? Tobiaus? Timothious?

He sighed, knowing nothing but complaints would come from either cadets if forced to spend an entire day with him. Jean crossed his arms, awaiting a choice of partner from his boss while he dreaded the inevitably long journey stuck with either insufferable silence or annoying small talk.

“Commander sir, I can go with Jean.” A pleasant voice chirped in from behind. And with those few words: salvation. Jean subconsciously uncrossed his arms and smirked as the Commander let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Marco approach.

“Thank Heavens, the one person who can stand him.” he murmured, Marco frowning at the not so quiet comment as he walked up to Jean's side. “That is fine, pack plentiful in case you get stuck for a night, we are not sure how much wreckage is up there, nor how long the journey on foot will take. There’s a shed around there you could set up in for the night. Do not come back today if you do not have ample time before sundown. Now get moving!” he ordered, his last words reverberating in a loud squawk.

“Yes sir!” They saluted before Jean met eyes with Marco. “Where the hell were you?” he questioned. Marco playfully rolled his eyes.

“Worried, hmm?” he chuckled, “Don’t worry, I was just helping Ymir with something.” he replied brightly. Ymir? That seems random… But he decided to not question it.

The two went back to their rooms to pack for their lengthy and no doubt strenuous trip up the mountain. Jean found himself not only not dreading the excursion, but actively looking forward to it. He felt a bit like a hyperactive kid as genuine excitement coursed through his veins. Should he bring his comb? Nah he probably won't need it. But what if they do end up having to spend the night and Jean turns too much in his sleep and his hair gets all messy and floofy and Marco looks at him with damned bed head and then probably giggles to himself and makes a dumb but cute comment about it because its Marco and somehow he always manages to make what Jean is insecure about into something he can actually like about himself just like when he’d said Jean’s eyes were pretty like a brown hibiscus and he stopped hating the way his eyes looked when he saw his reflection looking back at him and- Jean grabbed the stupid hairbrush and threw it into his bag.

Once sufficiently supplied, they scarfed a crummy cold meal before heading out as quickly they could manage.

Marco seemed awfully giddy as they started down a gravely path lined with fern. Though cheerful he often was, Marco was struggling to hide a smile. It wasn’t a bad sight at all, though Jean was curious. “What’s got you so damn happy today?” he questioned. Marco shrugged.

“I think I made a new friend - always a nice feeling, yknow?” Jean would say he’s surprised, but everyone in the 104th loved Marco, even the stoic ones, and he had a sneaking suspicion of who exactly his new friend was.

“Ymir?” he asked plainly. Marco nodded, a soft smile finding its way onto his face.

“Yeah. Y’know, she may seem edgy but she can be really kind.” he expressed, eyes a bit starry and thoughtful. He clearly didn’t hear how the words sounded to Jean.

Jean bit back the bitter remark already forming as envy crept its way into his mind. Why was it bothering him? He’s still his friend. His best friend even. Gah, not a big deal, keep it together. He told himself before rephrasing whatever edgy comment he was going to sneer into a hopefully harmless question.

“You like her?” he ended up asking, false humor falling from his tongue.

Marco looked visibly confused. “What? No I’m- not my type. She just has a good head on her.” he surmised. Why won’t Marco ever admit attraction? Does he not trust Jean? Jean had no problem divulging about those he found hot, so why wouldn’t Marco do the same?

The next few hours were spent bullshitting around as they walked; sharing stupid jokes about who in their class was most likely to get kicked out, a stupid conversation about Ymir that probably shouldn’t have peeved him so much, Jean going on a long winded rant about how justified he is in smacking Eren atop the head, Marco stopping to pick up random bird feathers exclaiming each time that, “No Jean, you don’t get it, this one is rare.” and eventually, as the sun started its descent towards the horizon, their casual banter shifted into their hopes for the future.

“Eh, I don’t wanna get married. Who wants to be stuck with a chick forever?!” Jean quipped. At his words Marco chuckled nervously, his gaze diverting to the coarse dirt beneath him.

“Yeah, me too. I don’t wanna get married. I’m fine living a life alone with me and my hobbies.” he said flippantly, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. Jean found the tone of his voice had changed into something more sullen and somber, and a glance over at his friend did not yield him any better results. Jean must do something about this.

He lightly elbowed his friend. “Well, if ya change your mind, I think you’d make a great husband some day.” Jean said honestly, no lick of sarcasm to his voice. Marco’s knees wobbled for a moment before he corrected them, clearing his throat to cover his obvious nerves.

“Thanks, Jean. You too.” he replied, biting his cheek. Another glance towards his friend showed a soft smile and a flushed face. Jean succeeded. Though now he too felt a bit hot in the face. He once again decided not to unpack that.

As they hiked, they spotted a would-be stream leading down to their base. Taking note of the lack of obvious running water, they were certain something rather large had blocked it. “Guess it’ll be a chore huh.” Marco pointed out. Jean began flexing dramatically, his tight muscles showing slightly through the thin white tunic.

“Pfft, your ol’ buddy Jean here will fix it right up for us, eh?” he joked, Marco eyeing him with a raised eyebrow followed with a hearty laugh. Sure, he wasn’t helping Jean’s ego, but he didn’t care.

The more they conversed alone, the more Jean felt his social facade fade, ending up losing whatever filter he had in place for other people all together. He wasn’t sure why this was the case, only knew that it made him feel relaxed and just genuinely, all around good. Perhaps it was the lack of a crowd - or Eren Jaeger. Either way, he was loosening up and took joy in seeing Marco enjoy himself on this trip as well.

“This is nice,” Jean said, smiling at the open air and lack of obvious walls. It felt open here, almost free. Hell, for the most part, they’ve forgotten completely about life inside the walls. Marco looked over and followed his friend's gaze to the sky, basking in the comfortable feeling.

“It is…” he began, sneaking another glance at Jean. “Really nice.”.

PART 2!!! 

https://foulcrownkryptonite.tumblr.com/post/663166809268224000/tracing-constellations-pt2

[sparring-hyena]

the time of our lives.

this one was kinda requested/suggested by @cloakanddaggerthings. they’ve also been a great help in hammering out the finicky details. thanks heaps, mate! 

OR, the one where it takes a year for these two goofs to realise they’re in love.

-

i. New Year’s Eve.

naturally, this is where they start. although, start in a very loose sense of the word. because they were something before tonight. something fiery and intense, but certainly not something real.

they were midnight rendezvouses, sharp remarks that lacked any real malice, and moments that somehow meant nothing and everything. but what they were is irrelevant. because Poppy’s got a reputation and parental expectations, and AJ doesn’t fit into any of that.

so, they stand in the front yard of some frat house, a New Year’s party raging on inside, and fight. they shout and cuss and say things that don’t at all mean but that make this whole thing easier.

it’s with ten seconds of the year left that Poppy says, “i hate you,” and feels something break in her heart.

“i hate you, too,” AJ says as the countdown finally reaches zero.

there’s cheering from inside and then AJ leaves and now Poppy’s standing alone on the front lawn. she ignores the tears that fall down her cheeks and tries to tell herself that everything will be fine.

so, yes, that’s how they start: in the final ten seconds of the year with an i hate you that actually means something else entirely.

ii. Valentine’s Day.

she sees AJ sporadically throughout the day. and that irritates Poppy like nothing else ever has. figures it would be today of all days that she sees her everywhere.

first it’s at the crack of dawn as she walks home after a one night stand that she spots AJ on a jog. they’re on opposite sides of the street, but it’s empty so they see each other.

AJ stops in her tracks and looks right at Poppy, not exactly irritated but certainly not pleased. Poppy fixes her with a glare that says what are you looking at? AJ shrugs and starts up on her jog again, and Poppy huffs and continues on her walk home.

then they see each other on campus way too many times—in the café, on the quad, and in the library. and each time, Poppy’s glare is met with a shrug from AJ.

the last time she sees AJ it’s late. the sun has long since set and there’s a chill that’s set in for the night. she’s on her way home from dinner—some blind date Veronica had set up—when she spots AJ across the street, laughing and walking hand-in-hand with some girl who looks vaguely familiar.

Poppy watches them until she can’t see them anymore, and wonders if AJ saw her this time, too.

iii. spring break.

she goes to Miami for the week with Veronica and Chloe. her intention is to have a fun and carefree week where she doesn’t once think about AJ.

it’s two days into her trip when she finds herself scrolling through Instagram late one night. curiosity nibbles at her restraint until she’s typing AJ’s name into the search bar.

she finds AJ’s profile and the first picture she sees is some candid shot of AJ and that same girl from Valentine’s Day looking at each other with ridiculously cheesy smiles. Poppy switches her phone off and doesn’t dare touch it for the rest of the night.

Poppy goes to a party the next night and hooks up with a girl who looks a lot like AJ. Veronica and Chloe point this out a few days later, laughing over cocktails. Poppy scoffs and tells them that’s complete bullshit and tries to hide her blush by taking a long sip of her drink.

iv. summer break.

the academic year ends and Poppy sighs with relief as she collapses onto her bed. she’s got three months until her final year starts, and three months where she doesn’t have to see or think of AJ.

it goes well at first—the not thinking about AJ. she spends a lot of time shopping and partying and lounging by the pool of her parents’ beach house on Long Island. but there are only so many hours of the day where she can keep her mind busy. so it’s at night, when she’s in bed trying to fall asleep, that her mind wanders back to AJ.

the first time it happens, she groans and rolls onto her side, and tries to flush all thoughts of AJ from her mind. that works. but then it happens again and again, and before Poppy really knows it, it’s halfway through August and she’s thought of AJ every single night since the end of June.

she lays awake in bed and watches the fan on the ceiling spin in lazy circles. her brain summons a long and near forgotten memory of a night a lot like this. she closes her eyes and sinks into the warm embrace of the memory:

she was in bed with AJ. it was either late or early, Poppy can’t quite remember. she decides it probably doesn’t really matter. they were talking and laughing under the quiet blanket of night. and Poppy suddenly remembers how she’d reached for AJ’s hand and never wanted to let it go.

Poppy opens her eyes and glances to her side. the bed is empty beside her, the sheets untouched, and she can almost feel the ghost of AJ’s touch on her hand. she squeezes her eyes shut, trying not to cry, and realises she never did hate AJ. she was probably just scared.

v. Halloween.

there’s a party on campus—isn’t there always? a frat party with costumes and decorations and cheesy music that starts to sound alright after three or four drinks. Poppy slips in later in the night, when everyone’s teetering on the edge of tipsy and drunk.

she moves through the throng of people towards the kitchen to pour herself a drink, and bumps into AJ for the first time this semester.

“hey,” AJ says, awkward and unsure, and Poppy silently regrets everything she’s put her through.

“hi,” Poppy says, smiling and really meaning it.

that seems to loosen AJ up a bit, and she returns the smile in kind.

“haven’t seen you in a while,” AJ says, leaning back against the counter and sipping her drink.

“been busy,” she lies even though that’s something she’s trying to stop.

and AJ seems to understand the lie for what it is. “you wanna go outside for a bit?”

Poppy only nods, afraid that if she speaks, she’ll ruin whatever’s happening right now. it’s quieter outside, the cheesy music and chatter nothing but a gentle murmur. they stand out on the front lawn of some frat house and Poppy gets a strange sense of déjà vu.

“i wish things had been different, y’know?” AJ says, her voice a gentle reassurance.

“me too,” Poppy says, and then: “i’m sorry that i said i hate you. because i don’t.”

a moment of silence passes, uncomfortable and almost tight like a rubber band pulled to its limit. because it looks like AJ’s about to say something important that’ll put them on a better path. but then the front door of the frat house flies open, and a few drunk students stumble out into the yard.

AJ offers Poppy a smile, almost sad and longing. “it was nice seeing you again.” and then she heads back inside.

vi. Thanksgiving.

Poppy doesn’t plan on visiting her parents this year. and besides, they’re going out of town for the holiday. so if she has to be alone, she’d rather it be in the sorority house than in some stuffy brownstone on the Upper West Side.

it’s late in the afternoon when Poppy gets a text from AJ. all it says is are you at the sorority? she stares at it for a moment, debates deleting it and carrying on with her day. but something tells her to respond, so she does.

she says that she is and waits for AJ’s response. she waits five minutes, then ten and nothing comes. Poppy scoffs and tosses her phone onto her bed. it’s not long later when she hears a knock on the front door. Poppy doesn’t think much of it, so she answers it without checking.

she finds AJ standing on the front stoop, grinning like she knows something Poppy doesn’t.

“what are you doing here?” Poppy says. “i thought you’d be on your way home by now.”

“i’m getting an early flight tomorrow.” then AJ holds up a plane ticket, grinning like this has been her plan all along. “and i was wondering if you’d want to come with me.”

“what?”

“come home with me. my parents always cook too much food, so really, you’d be doing them a favour.”

Poppy folds her arms over her chest and studies AJ for a moment. “don’t you want to take your girlfriend,” she says, and maybe she wants her words to hurt a little bit.

“we broke up over the summer,” AJ says, simple and easy.

“oh. sorry.”

“don’t be. it wasn’t working out and hadn’t been for a while.”

“are you trying to use pity to get me to come with you?” Poppy says, and she knows AJ wouldn’t, but it’s kinda fun to mess with her.

“no, of course not! i just wanted to be upfront with you. so, come home with me. please.”

Poppy plucks the ticket from AJ’s hand and says, “i’m only doing this for your parents.”

“of course.” AJ winks and grins. “i’ll see you bright and early at the airport tomorrow then.

the flight is uneventful, although Poppy decides AJ is much too cheerful for seven o’clock in the morning.

when they step inside AJ’s childhood home, Poppy’s immediately struck by just how warm and lived in it all feels. AJ’s mother tells her to mind the mess as she ushers them both inside, and AJ’s father greets them and says hugs’ll have to wait as he gestures to his dirty apron.

they all cram around a too small table in mismatched chairs that creak and rock back-and-forth. Poppy doesn’t care that she’s sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with AJ and one of her sisters. dinner is loud and fun, and AJ’s parents insist on sharing stories from AJ’s childhood. and as dinner winds down and dessert is served, Poppy reaches for AJ’s hand beneath the table and knows that she’ll never let go.

vii. Christmas.

it’s close to midnight on Christmas Eve when AJ appears on the front stoop of the Zeta house. she looks distraught and like she hasn’t had a good night sleep in days. so Poppy steps outside and asks, “what’s wrong?”

AJ looks at her, really looks at her, and Poppy feels something shift in that moment. and then AJ’s talking, words tumbling from her mouth, and it doesn’t look like she can stop herself. then she says i love you and everything goes still.

it takes a moment, but AJ seems to catch up to what she’s just said. her eyes go wide, and Poppy can see that she’s gearing up to apologies. but Poppy doesn’t let her. she surges forward and hug AJ tightly because oh god, i’ve missed her so much.

Poppy doesn’t say the words back, not yet anyway. but she holds onto AJ and tries to show her that she loves her, too.

viii. New Year’s Eve.

naturally, this is where they end. although end in a very loose sense of the word. because they will be something after tonight. something supportive and challenging, but most importantly something real.

they will be promises of forever, witty remarks that are just an i love you in disguise, and moments where the rest of the word falls away and it’s just the two of them together. what they will be terrifies Poppy. because she’s got a reputation and parental expectations, and AJ doesn’t fit into any of that... right?

maybe. but maybe it’s good that AJ doesn’t fit into that. maybe it’s good that AJ had upended everything she thought she knew. maybe that’s what makes what they will be so damn perfect.

so, they stand in the front yard of some frat house, a New Year’s party raging on inside, and finally admit what’s been there all along. they talk and tease and say things they mean with all their heart.

it’s with ten seconds of the year left that Poppy says, “i love you,” and feels that final piece of her heart heal.

“i love you, too,” AJ says as the countdown finally reaches zero.

there’s cheering from inside and then AJ steps closer to Poppy, smiling so bright and warm, and Poppy twists her arms around AJ’s neck and doesn’t once care that she’s probably smiling like an idiot in love.

so, yes, that’s how they end: in the final ten second of the year with an i love you that means exactly what it claims.

[daadddysprincessss]

Bonfire nights

Parings: Jim mason x y/n

Summary: takes place in the past - the first memories you had of jim. Most likely a 2 or 3 part series

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.3k

taglist: @ghostiesbedroom @lovelylangdonx @queencocoakimmie@langdonsinferno  @peachesandfern @gold-dragon-slayer  @charlottelouise135 @hplotrfan @rosegoldrichie @taryn-just-happened @rocketgirl2410@little-grunge-flowerz @ccodyfern @1-800-bitchcraft @langdonsoceaneyes @sojourne @starwlkers @bellejeunefillesansmerci (hope its okay if i tagged you)

You sat on your favourite rock - close enough to hear the waves crash at the other rocks beneath you - but far enough for the water not to reach you, it was where you first met - Jim.

At the other end of the beach you could hear laughing in the distance, it reminded you of the late nights with Jim and his friends - you would watch them from afar, they always seemed to be laughing and having fun by the bonfire - you were a watcher. 

-2 months ago-

You watched and listened to Jim and his friends for what seemed like forever - you wanted to be like them - outgoing, goofy, sporadic- you were neither of those things, they just seemed like a really cool crowd of people. But one night it was all about to change - Jim saw you sitting alone as he slowly walked down the mini trail that lead into the bay-

“Hey - you alright” Jim called out from behind you

You turned your head slightly to see who it was - “yeah im fine” - Jim had messy brown curls, bright ocean eyes you could see from a mile away - and he was always in that jean jacket, it suited him so well. This was your first memory of Jim - of course you saw him at school but you never actually talked to him.

“Wanna come join our fire” jim asked softly as he walked towards you

You turned to face him then immediately looked over at the huge bonfire - “its not really my scene over there” you laughed - you could hear ms popular heathers laugh above them all.

Jim laughed - “its not mine either but its a lot less lonely”

You pulled your jacket tighter to your body - “maybe” you spoke softly - you did have a small crush on Jim, he was kind and sweet (from what you could see).

Jim crouched down beside you - “the offer is always standing love” he smiled as he looked out into the ocean with you.

“Thanks” you smiled - “im y/n” you spoke softly

“Jim - Jim mason” he smiled - god there's that smile. Jim knelt there for a few more minutes then got up walked towards his mini party -

“Bye Jim” you said quietly to yourself

Its been a few days since you’ve seen Jim in the bay of palos - but you would see and hear his mum pacing back and forth yelling at the bay boys (jims friends) for being so damn loud at night, but you had hoped to see him again..

-2 weeks pass by-

You decided to change it up and go out to the bay earlier - you wanted to soak in the sun… for once - today was different, it was quiet and calm, the tide was low, there was not a segal near to hear, but the best part was there was no bay boys, just Jim and his twin sister Medina surfing. Jim and Medina were basically attached at the hip - but they have such different personalities, Jim was a ‘follower’ and Medina had a strong personality, I guess their relationship was unique. 

Both of them made surfing look so easy, you could never ! on the best of days you were lucky not to trip over your own 2 feet.

“HEY” Jim yelled from what seemed like the middle of the bay - his hand was waving at you

You had your legs stretched out with a book in your hand - homework of course - for a second you didnt realize Jim was waving at you, “what? Me??!” you yelled back at him

Medina waved her hand to come join them - “I'M STUDYING” you yelled back while holding your book up.

An hour or so went by without any disturbance from the mason twins, it was nice - peaceful. You could help but think of what Jim looked like while out on the ocean, and the texture of his hair - he probably smelt of salt water - his beautiful chocolate curls probably look amazing after being in the water all afternoon.

“Hey sunshine - how've you been” Jims voice boomed from above you while he blocked your sun-

“I've been well - how about yourself mason” you looked up at him - “it been awhile” you laughed.

“Yeah yeah - it's good to be back, but hey - you still owe me” Jim smiled 

“Excuse me - owe you what ?” you questioned him, then yourself

“You said maybe to coming to a bonfire and i didnt see you at the last 2 we had, so your coming tonight” jim smiled as he unzipped the top half of his wetsuit 

“Tonight? I - im uh busy” you tried to make an excuse - he was a gift sent from god, the way the water droplets fell down his shoulders onto his chest - it made it hard to concentrate 

Jim laughed - “i'll come pick you up, lets say 8pm?” 

Its like he didn't even give you a choice - “uh - sure, yeah that works”

“Its the blue house yeah?” jim asked as he pointed to the blue-ish white house with no fence

“Yep - thats me” you laughed

“Its a date” Jim smiled as he picked up his board and walked away

“A - date” you whispered to yourself

Within seconds of realizing you were going on a mini date with Jim freaking Mason you stood up and grabbed your belongings and literally ran up the hiking trail - you needed to get ready, to shower, pick out an outfit, hair, makeup - but there just felt like there was not enough time. 

When you got into your bedroom you dropped everything on the floor and headed to your dresser -- you picked out a pair of black ripped jeans, and paired it with a pale yellow graphic tee, for shoes you would probably just wear your vans - who cares if they were dirty, they were old anyways. As for your hair you sprayed some dry shampoo at the root and a texture spray throughout - the messy style just fit you perfect.

‘Y/n! - theres a young man at the door for you” you mother called out

“Already?” you spoke quietly to yourself - you quickly grabbed your cell, and a pony… just incase.

It felt like you ran down the stairs but you knew you werent it was just moving so fast - “hi Jim” you smiled when you met him at the bottom 

“You look - wow” Jim smiled at you

There it was - that smile, it melted your heart - maybe cause it was the way his eyes smiled with his mouth - or maybe cause he just seem genuinely happy.

“Shall we ?” jim held his hand out for you

Your fingers interlocked his and he quickly pulled you out the front door - “arent we taking this path” you questioned jim as he walked past the short cut down -

“No” he shook his head as he kept walking with you

Something didnt feel right, you have never seen jim take the long before - “jim where are we going”

“Down to the bay - where just gonna take a different path, i dont wanna share you with anyone yet”

“Share me?” you raised a brow

“Yeah - your the dark mysterious girl, and i like that.”

“Jim your freaking me out” your feet stopped in place

“Im sorry - i didnt mean to freak you out - i just wanna get to know you better before my friends rip me away’ his voice cracked

“Oh-” your voice was low - “so your just gonna ditch me with a bunch of random popular girls?”

“Oh god no - medina, my sister will be there. And besides your staying by my side.” Jim smiled

You nodded your head and proceeded walk behind jim - the both of you walked in silence for a moment, you reached the top of the bay -

“y/n” 

“Yeah jim” you looked up at him

“I really like you - i kinda always have.” jims eyes locked to yours

[annaraebananawriter]

(Part Three) I Want to Forget

FINALLY! 

WHO’S BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE???

I know I have. I’m sincerely sorry for the wait. Motivation was a damn bitch and came throughout the almost full year it’s been since I posted Part One and Part Two (which you might want to read, if you can’t remember or haven’t yet) sporadically. 

But I finally finished it. Now, there’s only one more part left and then a little bonus part from Nightmare’s POV. The bonus part is when Jake gets some well deserved Karma from the King of Fear himself! So stay tuned for that.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically UTMV

Characters: Nightmare, Dream (Who belong to Joku), Killer (Who belongs to  Rahafwabas), Dust (Who belongs to ???, I don’t know), Error (Who belongs to CQ), Horror (Who belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios) and, finally, mentioned Ink (Who belongs to Comyet) and Blue  (Who belongs to P0pcornPr1nce)

Warnings: Implied Rape (although, it’s toned down more, so it’s more like flashbacks), Implied Self-Harm (but just a tiny bit, barely there) Panic attacks (close enough to, at least), Implied Anxiety and I think that’s it? Let me know!

Word Count: 5254

~oOo~

"Heya," the human said, "you're Dream, right?"

"A-ah, yes! That's me!"

stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid

"Hey, do you want me to get you a refill too?"

"Oh, uh...it's fine. I was just having water, anyways."

"I'll get you some more water?"

"...alright."

Dream forced himself to breathe.

He closed his eyes and pushed those thoughts and snippets of memories down and away. Looking back on them and berating himself for not realizing, not noticing, would only do him more harm than good, he knew that. But he couldn't help it. If he had just...if he had been smarter...if he had...

There were so many 'if' this and 'if' that, it made his head spin.

They clouded his mind, becoming more jumbled as more and more came.

…

"Dream?"

Horror's voice made him start. He blinked his eyes open again and stared at the sink, which had been turned off now and was just dripping. Another call of his name gave him the incentive to tear his attention away and meet the other's concerned eyes.

Drip, drop

Nightmare hadn't told his boys much, as per the wishes of Dream. He didn't want anybody to know how weak he had been, how blindsided he had been, how...anything that happened, really, he wanted to keep as limited as possible. It was bad enough with Nightmare knowing, even if his brother still didn't know all the details. The ones that Nightmare did know made him worry, worry about Dream and Dream hated being worried about.

He was supposed to worry about others. Not the other way around.

However, he was glad that Nightmare respected his wishes. Horror and the others—as they had, naturally, been curious as to why Dream, their supposed enemy, was staying with them, the brothers did kind of owe it to them to tell them something—they knew the bare minimum: there had been an...incident...with Dream and someone that involved, on Dream's part, some non-consensual actions taking place, and that was why the guardian of positivity was staying with them for a bit.

Dream knew that Nightmare's gang was smart, though, and that they had probably read between the lines to understand the actual reason, even if they had been told the truth.

Dream...had been raped.

Admitting that to himself brought shivers and an automatic denial that said no, he wasn't, he was just stupid and naïve and pathetic and he let it happen, it was his fault, his fault, and he could've stopped it, should've stopped it, but he didn't because he was, again, stupid and pathetic and—

Drip, drop

Dream shook himself, realized he had been silent for longer than he should have and laughed nervously, the sudden sound making Horror jump a little.

"S-sorry, I...got lost, for a minute there," Dream said, shaking his head at himself, resting his gaze on the countertop where it was drawn, as if by a magnet, to the two innocent glasses of water. The ice in them had already melted quite a bit.

There was an itch in his mind that begged to come forward, promising another flashback.

Drip...drop

Dream swallowed. "I'm fine," he said softly, in answer to the unheard question. He could feel Horror's eyes on him as he stared at and through the glasses of water. He ignored them and the concern rolling off of the other.

He felt Horror start to speak and braced himself. "...do you remember why we're in the kitchen?"

Dream blinked and looked to Horror, meeting the other's guarded eyes, an unreadable expression on his face. That...wasn't the question he expected. He opened his mouth to answer what seems like an easy question, but found his mind blanking on the answer, like he had just woken up.

But he hadn't. He had been awake for a while now, he knew it.

So why didn't he remember?

His silence was answer enough for Horror, who nodded as if he had heard something. "We were in the garden, picking some fruits and berries that were ready. I was there because it's my job as the designated chef to gather everything that grows there." He paused, as if making sure he was still listening. "You were there because of two reasons: Nightmare wanted a reason to get you out of your room and you wanted some fresh air from being inside the castle for almost a month."

Dream listened quietly while Horror explained what they had been doing. As he talked, fuzzy moments came back to Dream, though the talking was muffled and the scenery was blurred, like he was both there and not there at the same time.

...has it really been a month since then?

"We didn't talk much," Horror continued, "as I could see you weren't all there. Eventually, it became really hot and you asked if we could take a break, cool down for a minute. I agreed. When we got back here," he waved his hand to say, here, in the kitchen. "I asked if you wanted something to drink, you said that you did, although now that I look back, I probably should have asked you what you wanted to drink instead of just assuming." He eyed the glasses, laughing to himself.

Dream shook his head. "It's fine."

Horror looked back to Dream. "It's not, not really, but okay. As soon as I turned on the tap," he nodded to the sink behind him, "you froze, staring at the water. I didn't notice until I had gotten our glasses. Sorry."

"It's fine," Dream repeated, shaking his head again. "you didn't do anything wrong. It's silly, anyways."

"It's not silly." Horror straightened, steel in his voice. "It's not silly. What happened to you..." he trailed off as Dream cringed. "It's not silly."

Dream said nothing.

Drip...drop

He never drank the water, either.

~oOo~

The hours passed by rather slowly until it was after midnight. Dream was sitting on his bed, fingers playing with the blankets when there was a knock and Nightmare entered without waiting for permission. Which was fine, as it happened most nights; they practically shared a room now.

Nightmare would come, Dream would be awake, they would talk and Nightmare would force Dream to sleep, being there when Dream had a nightmare, usually being gone when he woke up for good, although there was a couple of times when Nightmare had been asleep when Dream woke up. It made Dream guilty, but he didn't stop it.

"Horror told me what happened." Nightmare said, like Dream thought he would. His brother was still standing by the door, like he did every night.

Dream nodded slightly.

It was silent.

He inhaled as he realized Nightmare was expecting him to talk. "It was silly."

"It wasn't."

He clenched the blankets in a fist by his side. "Yes, it is!" Dream blinked against the sudden wetness of his eyes. "It's weak, too."

"Dream, it isn't silly." Nightmare said firmly, moving to sit beside him. Dream refused to look at him. "Nor is it weak. These are normal reactions to what happened."

"What happened was almost a month ago!" Dream sniffed, reaching up and rubbing at his eyes. He was so tired of crying. "I should be over it, but I'm not."

Nightmare was silent. "...that's not how things work, no matter how much we wish they did. Rape," —Nightmare ignored how Dream flinched at the word— "is one of the most serious things in the world. It's wrong, so, so wrong, but it still happens, and those it happens to don't just forget about it and move on suddenly. It's a process. You have to heal from being wronged and learn how to live with the effects of what happened. And that's going to take a while."

No.

No, he had to be wrong.

Dream had to be different because...

He should be different because...

Dream was shaking, trying to think of reasons as to why he should be different, why he should be over it already. He didn't know when, but his head had been moved to Nightmare's shoulder and Nightmare was hugging him as much as he could.

"I was drinking water that night," Dream started, surprising himself but finding himself unable to stop, "I was at a bar and I was drinking water and he didn't care and we talked and when we ran out, he offered to get us a refill. I tried to refuse him because I was just drinking water, but he insisted and he got me some more water, but I didn't realize he had drugged it." Dream sobbed, his emotions getting the best of him, reaching up with a shaking hand to clutch at Nightmare's shirt. "It's my fault."

"It's not." Nightmare shushed him, rubbing his back. "It's not, nor will it ever be your fault. You didn't ask for it, you didn't want it and it shouldn't have happened, but above all, it wasn't your fault."

~oOo~

Dream didn't know what to think of Error. The destroyer wasn't at the castle all of the time. He usually came, like, once a week or something and just lurked around a bit, annoying everyone but the guardian.

And he didn't know why. He wanted to know why.

But how did he ask something like that? 'Hey, I noticed you don't bother me when you're over and I know you probably know about what happened, but I still would like to know why.' No. That just sounded...weird. It was all weird, worrying about something so small like this but he couldn't help it. It was something he couldn't control and, frankly, he didn't want to. It was normal. He wanted normal things.

He was tired of things not being normal.

Admitting this didn't solve anything, though. He still worried about it. And he shook his head at himself when he caught himself drifting into the thoughts about it, the what-ifs and such. He did this a lot. It was also tiring.

It was one of the days that Error was over that something inside Dream rose.

It was like his bones were on fire, and every time something touched it, it hurt. It felt like hell and made him want to cry and cry but he couldn't because he was tired of crying and it was all so frustrating. Everyone walked around him, sneaking glances at him, because they knew something was wrong but they didn't know what. Even Nightmare was at a loss for once. And then everything was too much; the sounds too loud, the fabric too rough, everything heightened and he hated it.

HateditHateditHateditHatedit

Someone, he couldn't tell who, tried to touch him, rest their hand on his shoulder as a reassurance, but it stung. God, it stung so bad and Dream knew that he had to get away. He didn't know why, and that didn't help, but he had to get away from anything that wanted to touch him, bring back things he wanted to forget. So, he ran away from the problem.

Which was how he found himself in the bathroom, skin alight with ghost hands that he hated but couldn't get away from because they weren't real. His vision was blurry from tears he held back by force. Shivers racked his body, but they couldn't shake the memories away either.

—Hands tied to the headboard—

—Bad hands going over, down, over, down—

—Stupid, stupid, stupid—

—Over, down, over, down, down, down, hurting, hurting, hurting—

—Hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate—

Dream shut his eyes tight, trying to drown the images in blackness, but it didn't work. Nothing worked. That was pathetic. He was supposed to be getting better, why wasn't he getting better? Why, why, why? He wanted to forget what happened. He couldn't forget what happened and that scared him.

He pressed his forehead to his knees and went in—

"Distraction usually helps me, when this happens."

—and out, eyes snapping open and head whipping up, Dream met the eyes of Error, who was sitting against the sink, shoulder relaxed. His head leaned back and up, one of his eyes closed, the other watching Dream.

He blinked. When did Error get here? Here, in the bathroom with him? He hadn't heard anything besides the images, the bad thoughts and his own breathing struggles. Was he so caught up in his head that hadn't heard anything else? How more pathetic could he...

He dug his fingers into his ankle, the pain keeping him from staying too far. No. He refused to say bad things about himself any longer. Nightmare said this was normal, this was healing, and if he said it then it must be right. If he continued to view it as unnatural and wrong, he would be disrespecting Nightmare and he never wanted to do that. Nightmare's trying to help and if says something is good then it must be good and that's good.

What Error says suddenly springs back to him and he tenses. "What?"

Error shifts, sitting up and opening his other eye, gazing at Dream evenly. He was still calm. "When this happens, when everything is too much." He pauses. "When the touch feels like, in my case, it's probably different for you, electricity, where it zaps me if anything touches me, reminds me that it's bad."

Dream blinked again and it's out of his mouth before he can stop it: "Like the fire?"

Error nods, eyeing him thoughtfully. "Yeah. The electricity, the fire, it lies, that's what you have to keep in mind. It says something bad, that touch itself is bad, but it's not." His gaze becomes knowing. "It can be, sometimes, but it's not meant to be like that. It's meant to be a good thing. Understand?"

Dream slowly nods, saying he does, though his mind is elsewhere.

A lie. A trick of the mind.

Like when he's in a small, small, small place and it's so dark he can't see anything and he thinks that everything's closing in when it's not, that he can't move when he can.

Just like that.

That feels like suffocation and touch feels like fire, but they're both lying. They both want him to believe somethings wrong when nothing is, all they're doing is trying to protect him, keep him from getting hurt again the same way he was. And sometimes, sometimes, they get so panicked that they scream and overwhelm him, but that's okay. That's normal.

He can calm them not that he knows what they're trying to do.

Dream looks up from the floor. "You said distraction works for you. What kind of distractions?"

Error tilts his head, thinking. "Lots of things, really. Going to Outertale and staring at the stars is one. It gets a bonus for being pretty. Watching Undernovela is another one, a great one because the talking overrides everything and it makes me laugh. Uh...Oh! Knitting, too, is one because the yarn is soft and..." Error continues on, rambling about distractions for himself that eventually just turns into an infodump about the process of knitting, how to choose the right yarn, things like that.

Dream sets his chin on his knees and listens, smiling.

Listening to people is a distraction he uses anyways so he's glad he can use it with this too.

~oOo~

Later, once Error leaves and Dream finds enough courage to face the others again, he goes downstairs. Everyone pauses once he enters the living room, stares at him for a second, then returns to what they were doing before he came. The only one who doesn't is Nightmare, who continues staring at Dream.

Dream looks back and gives a small smile, a real smile, the first one he's shared since he started living here. Nightmare blinks, surprised and smiles back, relieved that he's good.

~oOo~

Dream walked into the main living room and looked around. Nightmare wasn't there, but Dust and Killer were. They had cards in their hand and had looked up when he walked in. They went back to their game upon seeing who it was, seemingly unconcerned with his presence, but he did notice a slight increase in the tension of their shoulders.

Dream hesitated, but walked over when the curiosity (and worry) over where Nightmare was won out. "Um...do you—?"

"Boss had an errand to run," Killer answered, voice clipped. He seemed to be annoyed at something. "He took Cross and Horror with him. We had to stay to watch you."

Dream flinched.

"Killer." Dust warned, looking up from his cards.

Killer snorted, shrugging a bit. "Just telling sunshine here the truth."

Dream shifted and quietly thanked the two. He retreated back to the door, but paused before leaving. The two had gone back to their game. He watched them play for a minute, watching them laugh and glare at each other playfully.

The sight brought a feeling of longing.

He hadn't realized it until now, but he really missed his friends. He missed laughing with Ink and Blue. He missed playing games with the two, just like Dust and Killer were doing. He missed just being with them, when all they had to worry about was when Nightmare and his gang would attack next.

He missed the before. Dream liked the before. He didn't realize how much until it became the before and he was in the after. It was kind of shocking, just how much he missed those times, the sense of normality and happiness. Now, here he was, watching two friends play a game together while his friends had no clue where he was. They were probably out of their mind with worry, especially Ink, who was there before everything changed.

Maybe he should...

No, no. He couldn't. That wouldn't be fair on them. This was his problem, his...trauma. He didn't need to burden his friends with the knowledge of what happened.

His friends didn't need to know, right?

He was fine with what he had now.

…right?

"Hey, sunshine!" Killer called, making Dream jump. The two had apparently finished their round, as Dust had started to reshuffle the cards. Killer had turned to Dream and had an expectant look on his face. "Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna join in?"

Dream blinked. "What?"

Killer rolled his eyes, which was interesting; he didn't have any eyelights. "If you're gonna stand there, you might as well join in. It'll beat just standing and doing nothing while you wait for Nightmare."

They...they wanted him to join their game?

(Why would they want his presence? He was their enemy.)

But...

But...he thought the two were uncomfortable with his presence. Weren't they? That's the message the tense shoulders had given him, along with the clipped tone Killer had talked with. Did Dream imagine all that? Surely not. But they didn't have any tension now; just the opposite, they looked like they wanted him to join.

Well...if they wanted him too, it wouldn't hurt, right? Besides, maybe all he needed to soothe the longing was to play a game with other people.

"Um, yeah! I'll join."

"Great!" Dust smiled and patted the spot across from them. Dream sat down and waited as they were all dealt out. They had been playing a game of Uno. Good. It was a game that he knew. Dust flipped over the first card, which was revealed to be a yellow seven.

Killer's turn was next. He placed down a blue seven, changing the colour.

Dream hesitated before playing a blue eight.

They played in silence for a few minutes. Killer always groaned when he got faced with a skip or a plus two. Dust just faintly smiled when it happened to him and in response to Killer. Dream watched it all happen, fighting to keep a smile off his face.

They had gotten a fair amount into the game—Dust had two cards, Killer had nine and Dream had four—when Killer shifted his legs into a different position and spoke up. "You know, sunshine, you don't have to just stick by the Boss while you're here. The rest of us don't bite."

Dream looked up from his cards, oddly feeling like a deer caught in headlights. "I...I don't know what you mean..."

Killer gave him an unimpressed look. "I think you do. The first few weeks you were here, you locked yourself up in your room. Which is fine. You weren't ready then, I understand." Dust played a card and Killer scowled, picking up a card from the draw pile. "However, you've been coming out of the room for...what has it been? Two weeks? And all you've done is hang around with the Boss."

Dream stilled. "Oh."

"Yeah." Killer looked up and met his eyes, his emotions giving nothing away to what he was thinking. "You don't have to do that, you know. We aren't gonna be mean or anything—" Dust snorted at that. Killer glared at him. "We're not...I'm not gonna be mean or anything."

Dream shifted himself, an unplaceable feeling growing.

Dust spoke up, voice soft. "We know what happened."

Dream fought hard not to flinch, instead staring hard at his cards as if he could burn them with his mind. He didn't know why this was so scary for him to hear. He knew they knew already. But still...

Down, down, down, down—

Fear, panic, guilt, confusion—

Hurting, hurting, hurting, hurting—

Sometimes he still found it hard to believe that other people cared about him, not just that their source/drug of happiness might be broken.

"I'm not saying it's necessarily wrong for you to stay beside Nightmare so much," He heard Killer continue, voice still deceivingly uncaring, apathetic. "but it might not be the healthiest. I mean, you give off the vibes of needing to talk to more than one person about your issues."

"Everyone here has their share of trauma, Dream." Dust said, voice still soft and gentle. "It might not be quite the same as yours, but we know what it's like. You can talk to us, okay?"

"When you're ready, of course," Killer reassured. They were both gazing at him when Dream finally looked up. "if you want to just talk to Nightmare, that's fine. You do you. We just want you to understand that we're also here if you need us." Killer slid into a grin, gesturing to the cards. "Or if you just want to play Uno."

Dream swallowed.

This was a lot to take in.

He appreciated it, he really did. He also was under the impression that he had already known that they were willing to help, especially after talking to Horror and Error, but the fact that tears were welling up in his eyes made him think otherwise. It was overwhelming that the people he had fought tooth and nail with not that long ago were the ones telling him this now.

Overwhelming and needed.

The smile he had been fighting won out and spread across his face. He reached up and wiped away his tears before addressing the two, soul filled with gratitude. "Thank you." He made sure his words sounded genuine, even though he knew they knew he meant them already. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Dust nodded and looked back at his hand. "Great. Now," he grinned, placing down a plus four wild card. Killer gasped, offended. "Killer, pick up four. And it's red now."

"It was already red! You can't just change it to the colour it was!" Killer continued to fume, though he also began to pick up four cards, seemingly forgetting that he could challenge Dust. It seems Dust knew this would happen; he had a smug look in his eye and he sent Dream a wink when he caught him looking.

Dream looked down and let himself start to giggle.

~oOo~

Dream had been thinking recently.

One, he didn't know what happened to Jake. This had come to his mind during a bad day, one where he couldn't leave his room because the thought of going outside of it made his skin tingle and a feeling of utter fear run through him. When Nightmare had first found him, it was the next morning and he hadn't mentioned anything about the whereabouts of Jake since. It made him wonder. It also made him a bit fearful, not knowing what happened to his rapist.

The second thing...was that he hadn't seen nor heard from his friends Ink and Blue since the raping. For the months he's been here, he hadn't even thought about them until not that long ago. It also made him wonder. How they were feeling, if they missed him, if they were looking for him. Knowing them, they were probably scoring the multiverse for him. Not that they would find him. Nightmare's castle was hidden very well. Not that it would matter; they still thought Nightmare and him were on bad terms with each other.

Thinking about his friends made something ache in him. He really missed them. He hadn't noticed it, but he did. He missed their movie nights, where Ink would criticize the movie and Blue would defend it and Dream would just laugh at them, amused. He missed when they all baked together, almost burning down the house because they sucked at it. The game nights, the sleepovers, the laughs, the bonding...he missed them so much.

They were great friends.

And Dream needed to tell them what happened.

The need to do so filled him, made his heart pound and mind race. He wanted to see them again and they deserved to know. He trusted them. Nightmare and his gang knew, but he hadn't trusted them at first. He had always trusted Ink and Blue. Telling them was something he could control. He could decide whether he told them or not.

And he decided to tell them.

He just had to tell Nightmare that now.

~oOo~

The next morning, Dream rehearsed what he was going to say over and over. He knew that Nightmare would probably agree, say that it was a good thing he wanted to tell his friends, but he just...couldn't get himself to move, to knock on Nightmare's door and ask.

Instead, he just found himself staring at the dark wood.

Staring and staring and staring.

He sighed.

It was frustrating. He knew that wanting to tell people about Jake was good, that it meant he was recovering and healing, but somehow—somehow, his mind didn't really recognize that as a real thing that will happen. If felt too good to be true, that they'd look at him with disgust and say it was his fault and confirm everything he already thought of the incident and oh god he can't do this why was he here oh god oh god oh god—

The door opened from the inside and Dream yelped as a tentacle pulled him through, Nightmare shutting the door behind it. The appendage dragged him along as Nightmare returned to his desk, first dropping him in one of the seats in front of it and then taking his seat for himself.

Nightmare laced his fingers together and stared at Dream expectantly.

Dream stared back with wide eyes, frozen stiff.

Silence reigned.

…

…

Nightmare sighed, making Dream jump, nerves on edge from being pulled into the room so suddenly and put in the spotlight before he was ready (even though he knew everything he wanted to say and could pretty much predict the ending). His brother waved his hand, leaning back. "So?"

Dream blinked. Now was his chance. All he had to do was say 'I need to talk to you, Night'. It's not that hard. 7 words. Practically nothing! So, c'mon mouth work with him here and say it...now— "So?"

—or just repeat what was said. That works too. At least you said something.

Nightmare stared. "You were standing outside the door for some time, clearly anxious to ask me something." He paused and looked away, sheepish. "I was getting a bit annoyed with waiting." He looked back, gaze knowing again. "I decided to take the initiative for you and open the door, as you would probably think yourself into going away."

He took a breath. "So, I'll ask again. What did you want to ask me, Dream?"

Dream broke off the eye contact, instead looking at his hands as he fidgeted with the end of his shirt. He knew that Nightmare was watching him, waiting. He was always waiting for Dream, no matter if it was now or back then, when he was waiting for him to come back to the tree.

He didn't like being waited on. It made him feel awful that others had things to do and people to hang out with and instead of doing those things, they were waiting for him, as if they needed his permission or something. Dream was fine on his own, he could handle it, they should just do their own thing and the next time they met, he'd be better.

Except with...this.

Rape wasn't a thing he could handle on his own.

That's why he needed to do this, why he was here. He had to ask—no. Not ask. He had to tell Nightmare that he was going to tell Ink and Blue about what happened. He didn't tell the gang himself what happened, at the time not being able to admit what had happened to him. But he was somewhat glad they knew without him telling. It was easier that way.

But Blue and Ink were his friends, not Nightmare's.

Dream deserved to tell them what happened himself.

"I want to tell Ink and Blue."

Nightmare paused, making Dream look up. His brother was eyeing him cautiously, a faint surprise present in the air. "About what?"

A rhetorical question.

Nightmare already knew.

He just wanted Dream to say it. "About Jake. And the bar. And what happened." He took a breath. "Everything."

Nightmare watched him for a moment. And he said, so soft and gentle understanding, "Okay."

That was all.

Just "Okay."

It was all that was needed to be said.

The surprise faded and pride took its place. Not much, but it was enough for Dream to detect. It made him shy and feel weird, but in a good way, and he looked down at his hands again, this time fighting a smile. He always got this way when someone was proud of him; it didn't happen as often as people assumed, so it was always nice.

Nightmare caught his attention again. "Do you know when you want to tell them?"

Dream shifted and frowned. "No...I didn't think that far ahead." And though he knew Nightmare didn't like it when he did it, added, "Sorry."

Nightmare glared at him with no real intent. "Don't be. It's fine. How about in...a couple of weeks? Would that be enough time?"

Two weeks, more or less.

Dream mulled it over.

Having a set time for seeing his friends again already made him nervous, but he dug deeper to see if it was enough time to prepare himself mentally. No real backlash came, no fear, no what-ifs, nothing besides the normal—or at least what Nightmare says is the normal—amount of worries. He wasn't starting to overthink it yet, and he should probably make his decision now before he does start to and backs out.

Two weeks. Yes or no?

Dream looked up and met Nightmare's eyes and said, "Yes."

[likesomekindofcheese]

Hey, you said to flood you with requests and stuff, so here I go. Reader is Grigor's wife (he deserves so much better than what he got on the show) and just gave birth to their first child, a daughter. Everyone pities Grigor because he doesn't have an heir to carry on the Dymov name, but he adores his little princess and spends every free moment with reader and their little girl. Thanks in advance!

Sophie!!! This is so cute!!! I’m uwuing and yearning and crying at the same time!! Get ready, this might be a huge-ass blurb!!!!

 tw: swearing and mentions of sex and childbirth and children

Letting out a breath, you finally heard your baby cry. Sweat dripped over your face, your hair was a mess, and worst of all, there was half of the court watching to see it from over your legs. You began heaving in big gulps of air, relieved it was finally over. You had sweated over your shift and felt that you might as well be naked in front of the whole court.

They fanned themselves, sipping champagne as you heard the doctor cut the umbilical cord. A physician changed bedsheets beneath you.

“Ooof, all that blood,” Count Orlo commented, putting a handkerchief into his hand and keeping it close to his mouth.

“Yes, well, that’s the way it is…” Lady Svenska said with a shrug.

Turning over, you saw Grigor’s face. He looked faint, green. He was uneducated about what happened during childbirth but insisted if the court wanted to watch he had to be there too. And watching the extremities of the female body firsthand made him tremble. But his hand never left yours throughout the long hours of labor.

“Are you…are you alright, Y/N?” he asked worriedly.

“I…I’m tired…but I’m fine…” you said.

He kissed your cheek, “I’m so proud of you, no matter what…”

The crowd gathered around like chickens as the doctor and nurses cleaned the baby. But you knew there was the one thing they wanted to know. Even more than the baby’s health. Your own heart was beating hard. You heard water swishing as they washed the child.

Then the bundle was handed to the physician in a soft, white blanket. Catherine caught a glimpse of the little one’s new face and she gave a beautiful smile. Then looked up at you, mouthing “congratulations.”

The doctor finally handed it over to you. The baby was alive and breathing.

“Monsieur and Madame Dymov, you are now the parents of a healthy…”

“Thank god…” you blurted.

“A healthy...beautiful little girl…” he finished.

He gave you the bundle and you made out the red, squished face. She was so tiny. She looked almost nothing like and everything you expected. Grigor kept gawking at her.

But there was a silence around the court. You glanced up to see a few curled frowns and whispers. Only the Empress came by to speak to you. She gave a glance at the little one’s face and wished her dearest blessing on your little family before waltzing off.

The tiny hands began to move sporadically. Then he let out a huge grin, a half-laugh came from him. He turned to you, his blue eyes looking large.

“I…I’ve never been so…so…”

“So completely in fucking trouble…”

His head shot up.

“Peter! I…I didn’t see you!” He said. His legs stopped, he stayed by your side, holding the little babe.

Peter walked up and gave him a pat on the back. You gritted your teeth.

“I guess congratulations are in order. She didn’t die…but you don’t have an heir to the Dymov name, title, estates, property, or money! Grigor…”

“Uh, well…I…” Grigor sputtered, blinking between his friend and you with the baby.

“I guess Y/N is a complete failure even after she’s had a good fuck!” he continued.

Tears began to well up in spite of his presence and dipping your head down so only your baby saw you tear up.

“Come on, Peter!... and speaking of come, I have more reason to rejoice…” Grigor jested, wiggling his eyebrows lasciviously.

“Humph?”

“More chances to fuck a boy into Y/N, of course! I’ll be enjoying my cock with her every night from now on! By next month, she’ll hardly be able to walk down the hall!” he explained cheerfully, taking Peter by the shoulders and shaking him.

“Why, huzzah! You are optimistic my friend!” he praised, “And I am glad the child’s healthy…for now. You never know. Girls are weak, anyway…that one might drop dead of her own blood when she’s twelve! Now I need to drink some wine for dinner and get a cock-sucking for dessert, goodbye!”

He whisked around and left, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Grigor…are you really disappointed?” you questioned. “I…I’m afraid I…I have failed you…” you found yourself crying. 

The feeling of now emptiness in your belly. The hormones. The experience. Everything came down.

“No…no, Y/N…I love her…I love…our daughter. Our girl. And she’s healthy. That’s all I could ask for…you have not and will never fail me and right now…”

He took your hand and kissed it.

“I love you more than ever…” he confessed.

Smiling, you reached in to “Can I…can I hold her, now?” Grigor asked.

Nodding, you handed the cooing baby over to him.

His jaw dropped as he accepted her. You showed him how to cradle her neck and her bum safely to hold her.

“I’m so fucking nervous, what if I drop her!” he confessed.

“You won’t! Sit on the bed if you’re that nervous!” you offered, weakly shifting aside.

When you handed the tiny girl over to your husband, she began to wriggle. His lips went tight.

“Ah! She already feels heavy! Now she’s moving! She’s minutes old and won’t sit still!” he commented.

“Relax, Grigor…” you urged.

Eventually, she settled down and you had a few first quiet moments. She even opened her eyes to Grigor. And you saw him cry silently.

The next week was thrilling and exhausting. Yet every night, once you heard your daughter wail, Grigor was out of the bed like a shot. You would shift up, but he put a hand in front of you to stop you.

“Here, Y/N…get some sleep…” he ordered.

“But…”

“I didn’t push a fucking baby from my crotch a few days ago! Get some sleep!”

He always insisted on heading over and caring for the little one.

Though, sometimes she was hungry, only then would he wake you up to suckle. He then made sure that a pot of tea was prepared and some kind of cake, biscuit, dessert, or even something like slices of apple and toasted bread. But it was peaceful, the dark night with low lights in your shared, red bedroom. The sound and feel of her mouth on your nipple as she sucked. And Grigor watching as he took care of your empty plate, sipping his tea thoughtfully. But with a quiet smile.

One night, you placed her back on her blanket so you could finish your tea. He even looked at you and said, “I thought…I would like to name her after you, Y/N…”

“I…really?” you asked.

He nodded, “I want her to grow up and to be like you…because you’re the best woman I’ve ever known…and the christening is in two days and that’s the only name I can come up with.”

“Well, alright, it’ll be odd for me, we can call her Mademoiselle Dymov if we get confused.

But he kept playing with the baby every free hour. He held her in her robe and went to mirrors. Pointing at her in the reflection, as she cooed in response.

“Who is that? Who is that! It’s little miss Y/F/N! And isn’t she beautiful!” he cheered.

He kept holding the little girl up to his face and she would reach for him. Playing with his cheeks, lips, and especially his nose until he burst out laughing. She developed a habit of sucking on his nose that he would let her do for several minutes until you couldn’t stop laughing. But he smiled all through it.

The next month, he insisted on a room to be a nursery for the little Mademoiselle. But you were surprised to find every kind of flower, bow, dolly, decoration, and animal toy in there. He was even dressing the little girl already in a tiny blue dress made of silk.

“Why…don’t you look stunning, Princess Y/F/N! I chose that color because that was what your mother wore the day I met her…did you know that?” he whispered, fixing a little bonnet on her head. She babbled in response.

Quietly walking behind, you cleared your throat, and he turned around with a jump.

“I think we’re going to give the Dauphin of Versailles a run for his money with this nursery alone!” you laughed. “She’ll start thinking she is the dauphin of Versailles!”

He grinned, showing you the baby in her new dress.

“Why it’s what she deserves as my daughter!” he answered with his handsome smile.

Although he would go to the Emperor as called, many an evening was spent in front of the roaring fireplace on a cold night holding little Y/F/N or having her in a nearby cradle as you played cards or read, though either your hand or his would reach up to touch or tickle her.

One evening, it was his turn to read. You sat by the fire, holding the little Mademoiselle right over your arms but low on your lap. She looked up at you, laughing at something and you looked down and grinned back. Grigor stopped reading. You caught him looking

“What is it?” you asked quietly.

“I’m just…happy here, with both of my women…that’s all…I never knew I could be so at peace but…here it is…” he commented, before walking up to kiss you on the lips.

The Great Taglist: @foxinaforestofstars @itsametaphorgwil  @grigorlee​ @itsametaphorgwil​ @always-a-fairycat​ @foxinaforestofstars​ @simonedk​ @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night​ @queenlover05​ @xviiarez @kiainspace​ @gwilymleeisbae​ @writeroutoftime​ @staradorned​ @iwritefanficnotprophecies​ @panagiasikelia​ @marshmxllowfluf​  

[dearmrsawyer]

well IT WAS A YEAR. it was also emotionally two weeks and five years? lol. its been a lot, but there were some real positives from this year that i wanna reflect on just because! they’re nice to think about!!

i’d love to know if any of you have any positive things from your year that you’d like to reflect on. accepting asks where we can celebrate your little wins too :)

in general i’m just quite proud of myself for how i’ve managed the library this year, given that its just me. its been hard feeling more disconnected from our students, and also trying to provide them with support that can reach across the void created by distance learning. it wasn’t 100% successful all the time! but it can’t be, and i never aimed for that. i just did everything that i felt i could reasonably do as a single individual, and i think i did my best! i spent a lot of this year driving out to post books to our students, or meeting them at convenient locations to do book swaps, and i’ve spent a lot of time coaching academics through online systems over zoom so that they could effectively teach their subjects, and i’ve spent a lot of nights and weekends prepping materials that needed to be made available to students ahead of class, because our academic staff weren’t able to finish them while i was still on the clock (i’m def not trying to @ our academics here! they’ve been delivering material late all year bc of how much extra work they’ve had to take on too! its just the roll on effect bc i’m the last link in the chain). i’ve felt a huge sense of camaraderie with many of my colleagues this year, and am grateful i had them to make this work year more manageable. but i know i’ve been doing a lot of hidden work and i think i did well :)

oh man i loved turning off my wake up alarm in march and never turning it on again!!!! I think i can count the number of times i’ve had to use my alarm on one hand, and they were mostly dr appointments. it feels so comfortable to wake up when my body decides, whether its 6am or after i should already be working LOL. there have definitely been ebbs and flows to how well i’ve slept throughout the year, sometimes i know exactly what’s affecting my sleep and sometimes i have no idea, but regardless, the absence of an impending alarm has been such a nice way to compensate for.. everything else lol

i started growing vegetables!!!!!! I spent a week in March digging out a patch of my yard, and then the next month or two growing seedlings, and i successfully grew snow peas, silverbeet, beetroot and lettuce :D i also added dill to my herb garden, and successfully propagated thyme and lemongrass! i did attempt a few other vegetables that didn’t pan out, mostly because snails kept eating my seedlings jkjdgkj but it was so exciting to successfully grow something that i could then EAT! and i’ve also been able to figure out which vegetables i consider more convenient to grow, for example buying leafy greens can be super inconvenient bc i find its often impossible to use them all before they go bad. they sell greens in such ridiculously large bunches! but growing them myself, i can go out and pick however many leaves i want, and the rest won’t go bad because they’re still on the plant! i also started to stagger how many seeds i wanted to grow which meant they weren’t all maturing at the same time, and i didn’t need to use them all at the same time. 

Supernatural finished this year which was NOT a highlight 😭 but it was originally scheduled to finish in May, and i was given the gift of 6 whole extra months to live with this show as a work in progress. as much as i still wasn’t ready to say goodbye in November (would i have ever been ready), i was given so much unexpected extra time to appreciate being IN it while it was still going. i spent so much of this year reflecting on how big a part of my life this show has been, and how much its given me and shaped me. from the ages of 14 to 29 i was able to live with this show as a close friend, and i’ve never taken that for granted, but i am so thankful for the extra time i was given to reflect and appreciate it even more deeply. also supplementary highlight is how much that ending meant to me <3 the world can think whatever it wants but i was on that journey for 15 years, i was there for every episode, never falling behind or taking a break, and that ending honoured the story i watched, and i am very grateful that the pain of it ending was cushioned by the sense of peace and fulfilment that ending gave me. 

i finally found hair products that WORK!!!!! i’ve had the same hair routine for like a decade (basically sans products) and i thought i should use this extended period of time where i exist unobserved to experiment. i’ve never really bought hair products for myself, i’ve always inherited them from my mum bc she always had a surplus of products she’s collected over the years. our hair couldn’t be more different so i’ve never experienced a product that was particularly effective LOL. i have v dry hair that’s naturally curly/wavy but extremely frizzy, and i have soo much of it!! so many hairs on my head! my mission was to find a way to let it dry naturally without all that frizz popping up, and without having to dry it in two big twists. the only products directed at curly hair that i’ve ever been aware of is mousse, which used to give people that crunchy look that i can’t staaaaaand but i’ve spent a few months buying quite a lot of products and testing them out one after another, and i’ve found a couple that i absolutely LOVE!! this is big for me bc i always structured my week around when i wash my hair (the day of and day after i’m unavailable lol). i’ll still have to structure my time around it somewhat bc it takes so so long to dry, but its going to be less of a drama if i have to do things when its not completely dry yet, and also i just feel like i’m finally getting to let my hair do its own thing without it stabbing me in the back 😂

i think that human connection has probably been more important this year than ever before, and i’ve often felt like maintaining connections requires energy i just haven’t had for a lot of this year. but i also feel like i have been very connected? i feel like i put in the work. my best friend and i shared a few phone calls this year even though neither of us have ever really been big on phone calls (neither of us have ever talked with people on the phone much in our lives lol). i’ve skyped with my Norwegian friend Ellen almost every month this year!! my friend Bel and i started exchanging sporadic voice messages again, which i’ve just loved. i’ve video chatted with Steph even though it was a scary new venture! and it was so amazing! i do feel like i’ve had less interaction with people on my dash this year, but i feel like working from home has changed the ebbs and flows of my energy throughout the day sooo much, and i just haven’t been online as much when other people are, but i’ve spent a lot of time connecting with people over whatsapp! when it comes to family, being around my grandparents was really really stressful for the first half of the year, but as the situation in Australia eased we relaxed enough that we were comfortable to spend time with them without our masks (plus we weren’t seeing anyone else lol). and i was able to make myself available to them more often while working from home, since i live only a minute away! we stopped having our big family lunches until September, and when we were finally able to get back together we enjoyed each other’s company so much. so while i haven’t been face to face with people on a daily basis, i don’t think i’m any less connected to the people that matter than i was a year ago.

[phantom-curve]

find the strength, find the melody pt. 7

lmfao I love how I posted an update 2 days ago like “this fic will have sporadic posts! idk when they’re coming!” and then I spent the last two days writing this. when that insomnia inspiration hits ya gotta just go with it!

this chapter went in a completely different direction than I had planned on soooo yeah...honestly not sure where this is gonna end up! the characters from my OC novel that I’m loosely basing this story around didn’t have a connection before they ran into each other so when Julie gave me this I almost cut it because I genuinely wasn’t sure where it was going. I think I’ve almost figured it out and I’m pretty sure I know how this will end. and now we all get to laugh at me together because it’s definitely gonna be more than 3-4 chapters. it might even be more than 6. Luke’s POV will have roughly the same amount of chapters I think, possibly longer because boy oh boy does he have A LOT to say (most of it about Julie). fair warning: this one has an awkward cut off because of the way I need to set up the next chapter. sorry about that.

and now something I probably should be embarrassed to admit: I don’t remember writing the part where I managed to sneak an “I’ve Got The Music” reference in so now we know for sure this show has infiltrated my brain. it’s fine, I’m fine, at least I WILL BE WHEN WE GET A S2!!!! KENNY!!!! SAVE ME HERE!!! MAKE MY UNHINGED OBSESSIONS WORTH IT!!!!!

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​, @kat-maybe-not​, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist​​

It was no small miracle that Julie made it through the afternoon without Ray asking for details about her supposed ‘plan’ to play with the Sunset Curve boys. She didn’t think she would have been able to pull off spinning a story quite as well as Luke had earlier. She had expected at least a small amount of interrogating about when she had started playing again, but apparently the news that she was playing at all, let alone with other people in front of an audience, was enough for Ray to ignore all of the other plot holes involved in this scheme. He seemed to have almost forgotten the meeting with Principal Lessa entirely, humming on the drive home, kissing her forehead and turning her loose to freak out alone in her room while he sat down to work on his computer in the dining room. Julie took full advantage of the time alone to restlessly pace her room and send Flynn a 911 text. Her bestie’s contact photo lit up the phone screen 30 seconds later.

“Okay, I’m hiding in the basement girl’s bathroom, so you’ve got exactly 5 minutes before I get too grossed out to stay here.”

Julie’s chest loosened at the sound of Flynn’s comforting voice. There wasn’t anyone else in the world that loved her the way Flynn did. It was reassuring and made it easy for Julie to let loose.

“Lessa told Dad about the music program and then You-Know-Who ambushed us outside of her office and basically forced me to agree to perform with them.”

“Voldemort was at Los Feliz?!”

Flynn’s gasp was overflowing with sarcasm.

“Flynn!” Julie whined. “Be serious! Luke showed up out of nowhere again! And he did the thing again! The charming his way into getting what he wants thing! And now I have to play with his freaking band! What the hell am I supposed to do?”

There was silence for a moment. When Flynn spoke again her voice was softer, more serious.

“You don’t have to play with them, Jules. You can tell them no, and they’ll have no choice but to respect that. The only person who can make you do anything is you. But...I kinda think you might want to play with them.”

“What?! No!”

Julie’s exclamation was a second late. Flynn didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Julie sighed.

“Okay fine. There’s something about Luke that makes me want to play again. Are you happy? He gave mom’s song back to me when I thought it was lost forever. He’s the only person who’s heard me perform it, and he...no one else has ever made me feel that good about my music before.”

Julie thanked her lucky stars Flynn wasn’t in the room to see her blush. There was a long moment of contemplative silence on the other end of the line. When she spoke again, there was that extra note of take-no-shit in Flynn’s voice that made Julie sit up and really listen.

“I think you should give it a chance. Who knows, maybe this is some sort of sign from your mom. You said it was a miracle he would have even found that song in the first place. You said it felt like she was there with you when you were playing. Maybe she made sure it would find its way back to you when you were ready for it.”

Julie didn’t say anything, just worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Her heart beat a little faster in her chest. It had felt a little too perfect to be just a coincidence. The way Luke kept appearing in her life at the exact moments she needed him someone or something to help her keep moving forward. Flynn sighed.

“Look, I’m not saying it is your mom. But I’m not saying there’s not some kind of greater power out there that keeps pushing the two of you together. I think you should give it a chance. If nothing else, you can get back in the music program and we can bring Double Trouble to life in time for our Junior Showcase!”

Julie couldn’t help laughing. Her eyes felt misty, love for her best friend welling up in her heart.

“I never agreed to that name you know. But thanks, Flynn. I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Now. I gotta get the fuck out of this grimy ass bathroom. Love you, bye!”

Flynn waited for her to return the sentiment before hanging up.  Julie flopped back on her bed, letting her breath out in a loud whoosh as she hit the comforter. A glance at her phone told her she only had a couple hours until Luke and the other boys would be out of school and on their way to her house. She tried her best to ignore the way that thought made her stomach roll with a type of nervousness she would rather not name. It was easier to blame it on nerves over playing with new people rather than nerves over playing with Luke. Except...now that she actually thought about it, she had played with Luke before. Her head spun, eyes fluttering shut as she remembered the one music class she had shared with Luke last year.

She had only been a freshman, stuck in a lowly Introduction to Composition class. It was supposed to be for new songwriters. Julie had a little more experience than the rest of the class, after all she’d been kind of composing with her mom for a few years now, so when it had been time to write a duet for their final big project she had gotten paired up with the classmate whose skill level most matched hers. It was supposed to be a way for them to challenge each other and grow as writers instead of one person doing most of the work. Julie had been paired with Luke.

He’d been a grumbly sophomore, held back for failing his last semester of Intro to Comp the year before. He had been stuck there only for the second semester, forced to double up between their class and his second year Composition class. Julie hadn’t been all that excited about partnering with him. He hadn’t really seemed to care about the class at all, and even though Julie also sometimes felt like it was holding her back a little bit, she never once voiced that thought. It was a privileged mindset, and Julie was well aware that she had an advantage over her classmates since her mother was a professional songwriter. Luke, on the other hand, had made it well known that he felt like he was wasting his time just waiting to get through the semester so he could move up to the Advanced Composition class that he felt he truly belonged in. Julie could usually do no more than roll her eyes in those moments.

It was true that Luke was talented. His guitar playing was impressive, his lyrics were heartfelt and sometimes even downright poetic. Julie just didn’t think anyone deserved specific things in life because they happened to be naturally talented at something. Their songwriting experience had been...interesting to say the least. And short. It had ended abruptly when Julie’s mother had died 5 days later. In the end, they’d only worked together for two 40-minute class periods before she had been lost in the fog of grief that consumed her in the weeks following the loss of her mom.

Julie shot up in bed, eyes wide. She didn’t even fully remember what had happened with the half-finished song they had been working on. Errant notes echoed in her head, like a song that had only existed in dreams until now. She absently wondered if Luke had held onto that as well. It was no wonder she had kept that particular memory suppressed all this time. That time in her life had been particularly painful. Luke had been gentle with her though. Almost all traces of his typical arrogance gone in the two short class periods they’d had to work together. He had kept things light, steering their songwriting in the direction of a rock ballad more than a true duet. Julie hadn’t minded. She had been floating through classes by then anyway, on edge every second she was away from her mom’s bedside. It had been easier to work on something that didn’t have as many sappy emotions attached to it.

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. No wonder Luke had been so sweet with her. He must have had a front row seat to her breakdown throughout the last year. She hadn’t even realized it. Had never before seen the way he watched her from a distance, checked in on her during class. She should have. Now that she was thinking about it, trying to identify every instance, she could name a million. How had she missed it for so long? How had he gone so long without saying anything? The Luke she remembered was terrible at keeping his mouth shut. He had always been ready to speak his mind, never afraid to start a discourse. It didn’t track that he had been holding himself back. Unless...it was more about her musical ability than anything else. She remembered now; Luke had been thrilled to partner with her for the duet. He had made some remark about how her sound was the perfect complement to his. Maybe he only cared about the ways they would mesh as songwriters. She could only hope that’s what his words had meant.

She felt more secure in her footing as a musician when it came to dealing with Luke than she ever had as a simple teenaged girl. If it was just about the music she could compartmentalize better, keep herself from getting too emotionally invested. Music had always been a safe zone, neutral. She breathed in and out deeply, remembering the technique Dr. Turner had taught her to slow her breathing and recenter her mind. She could do this. It was just about the music. They would play a song together, Julie would get back into the music program, and life would move forward much in the way it had before. Except Julie would actually participate in class this time. She had the music back in her soul, she wasn’t ever going to let it go again. On her next exhale, she heard the doorbell ring. Showtime. Julie zipped down the stairs, ripping open the door before her dad had a chance to get more than three feet away from his computer. Luke, Alex and Reggie all stumbled back a step as she tumbled outside, pulling the front door shut behind her. The three teenaged boys shared a look.

“Studio. Now.”

Julie raced down the path to her mom’s studio before they could react, not even waiting to see if they followed her. If they were smart, if they truly wanted to do this, they would. She hauled the garage doors open, only turning around when she had the piano at her back. The wood felt warm and solid, almost like she had her mom as a support behind her instead of an instrument. The boys appeared seconds later, Luke leading the way. He stopped a couple feet inside of the studio, studying her with wide open earnest eyes. She let out a deep breath. Reggie spoke up before she could get a word out.

“Woah, Julie, this studio is so cool! It’s like a tiny home! A musical tiny home in a botanical garden!!”

His green eyes were wide, expression awed as he spun to take in the space that Julie and her mom had spent countless hours turning into theirs.

“How did you get chairs on the ceiling?! Are you, like, a witch and a siren?!! Man, you and your mom must have made some serious magic in here.”

Luke’s arm shot out faster than lightening to backhand Reggie’s bicep. Reggie cringed away, a soft owww! just barely audible over the loud sigh Alex let out as he buried his face in his hands. Reggie shrugged, looking back and forth between his bandmates before giving Julie a confused yet apologetic glance. What had he said wrong this time? The giggle that bubbled out of her was as unexpected as it was welcomed. Warmth blazed in her heart, memories of the time she had spent in here with her mom washing over her with a kind of hazy bliss she hadn’t ever experienced before. She gazed at Reggie, letting that same feeling of motherly love from the night before fill her up. It was all she could do not to react to Luke’s jaw dropping when she gave Reggie a soft smile.

“We did. We made so much magic in here.”

The words were gentle and filled with a kind of genuine love that overshadowed all other feelings of awkward nervousness. Alex and Luke relaxed instantly, Reggie’s face losing all traces of uncertainty as he beamed at her with a smile so large it almost looked painful. Julie couldn’t help but let herself return it, just a little bit. The silence that settled between them was more comfortable, the tense moment from earlier broken. Julie studied the boys in front of her. She hadn’t ever thought of them as friends per se. They knew each other, would say hi if they encountered one another outside the walls of the high school, but at the same time, they didn’t actually know each other. Julie’s little run in with Luke the night before had made that painfully obvious. She wasn’t really sure what to make of them.

“Are you guys actually serious about this whole Showcase scheme? Did Luke even tell you about his dumb plan?”

“Hey! That plan is genius. Even your dad agreed. He seems pretty cool.”

Julie couldn’t help the fond way she rolled her eyes. Alex was quick to reassure her that they did, in fact, know about the plan.

“Not that I actually think it’s a particularly well thought out plan.” He stated with a lingering glare at Luke’s back.

The planner in question did his best to ignore the skeptical look on Julie’s face.

“Julie, you really don’t deserve to be out of the music program.” Reggie’s voice was soft and sincere. “You have the voice of an angel. If we can help convinced Ms. Harrison and Principal Lessa to give you your spot back it will be so worth it. And even if we don’t, it’ll be worth the looks on their faces when we rock the pants off that crowd!”

Julie laughed in spite of herself, slightly reassured even as she chewed nervously on her lip. Luke took a few bouncy steps forward, pulling her attention to him completely. His eyes locked on hers and she was sure she was drowning, throat tightening at the look he was giving her.

“You got this. I wouldn’t have come up with this idea if I didn’t believe it 100%.”

Honestly, that was what scared her the most about it.

“We don’t even have anything prepared.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, unsteady and wavering. Luke took a few more steps towards her, Reggie and Alex ghosting along silently a few feet behind him. Julie didn’t even notice, so laser focused on the brunette boy in the cut-up tank top in front of her. She watched his muscles flex as he reached into his back pocket, flicking out a piece of folded up paper in a move scarily reminiscent of when he had given her mom’s song back to her. He bit his lip, head ducking a little to be closer to hers as he unfolded the worn sheets of scrappy notebook paper. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, focusing on the messy handwriting in front of her.

“I thought you would say that.”

The smile on his face was so soft and sweet it should have been illegal.

“It’s called ‘Bright’. It’s a Sunset Curve song that we never performed because it’s missing something. Look,” his bare shoulder brushed hers as he shifted to point at the notes, warmth seeping through the thin material of her t-shirt, “it’s perfect for your range. I was thinking, if we add a little bit of piano here and here,” fire blazed a path up her arm as his fingers traced along the opening notes and chorus, forearm flexing against her own, bare skin brushing in teasing licks, “it’ll be perfect.”

Julie forced herself to focus on what he was saying, eyes roving across the paper. She hummed a little under her breath, hearing what he described in her head. His eyes lit up when he saw her get it, feet springing up and down as he dipped even closer towards her and started to sing.

We will rise, through the night

You and I

We will fight to shine together

Bright forever

His voice vibrated in her chest, the sound filling her with an emotion she couldn’t fully identify. Alex and Reggie bobbed along behind him, Reggie’s fingers plucking out the baseline on an invisible guitar while Alex nodded along to an unseen beat. Julie could envision the way the song would sound with a complete band, could practically see herself fitting seamlessly into the mix with her piano and vocals. She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips as she joined in, reading the lyrics off of the page.

And rise through the night,

You and I

We will fight to shine together

“Go up high.”

Luke cut in, fingers twirling towards the ceiling. Julie automatically made the adjustment in notes to harmonize her voice with his for the last line, holding the final syllable for a beat longer than him.

Bright forever

“Yes!”

Luke’s arm pumped up and down, bicep flexing and distracting Julie momentarily. She dropped her head shyly, trying to hide her blush. When her cheeks cooled a moment later she looked back up at the boy in front of her. His eyes were glowing, smile stretched a mile wide as he stared at her. Unconditional belief in her was practically oozing from his pores. She felt her face soften as their eyes locked, giving him her own sweet smile that was meant just for the two of them. She thanked him with a gentle murmur, heart melting as he simply bit his lower lip and nodded.

A throat cleared in the background, and Julie was snapped out of their private bubble by the sound. Her entire face felt engulfed in flames as she looked over Luke’s shoulder to see Alex and Reggie still standing a few paces behind him. Reggie’s face was bright, his sunshine temperament back in full force. Alex was a little more guarded, but he was giving her an encouraging smile and there was cautious optimism swimming in his sage green eyes as he fiddled with one of his drumsticks. She inhaled deeply and let her breath out in one smooth exhale. The same sort of peacefulness from the night before settled over her.

“Okay. Okay, so we’re doing this.”

Luke’s whoop was so loud both her and Alex jumped. Reggie raced forward with a cheer to sling one arm around Luke’s shoulders and the other around Julie’s, pulling them so close to his chest that their noses nearly touched. Julie saw the blush staining Luke’s cheeks and felt her own warm to match. Alex coughed again.

“Reg, c’mon. Let it settle for just a sec before you go all human octopus on the poor girl.”

“Oh, right! Sorry, Jules!!”

Reggie released both of them quickly. Julie flicked her gaze between the three boys, enjoying the glimpses at their band dynamic. Alex’s words had sounded a bit exasperated, but there was a fondness running through them as well. He gave a half-hearted roll of his eyes at Reggie’s abrupt movements and reached his own long arm out to pull the dark-haired boy close.

“Help me unload the van? I still don’t trust our little Lukey boy with my kit.”

“Hey! That was one time!”

Luke sounded downright offended. The dark look Alex leveled at him in response had Julie choking back a laugh with a badly disguised cough. Clearly once of whatever he did was enough. Luke pouted, arms flexing as they crossed over his chest.

“You put your foot through my bass drum, and you think that isn’t reason enough not to trust you with it ever again?”

Luke sputtered, eyes flicking to Julie and back to Alex as his ears reddened.

“I told you I didn’t see it!”

“It’s the biggest part of the kit, dumbass. Literally the hardest thing to miss.”

Alex’s voice was as unimpressed as it was dismissive. Luke threw his hands in the air as the other boys headed out of the studio, laughing amongst themselves. It was clear this was a regular argument between the two, no heat or anger left in it, only a loving sort of tease. Like the way Carlos still brought up that time she accidentally gave him a concussion double-bouncing him off of their neighbor’s trampoline when he wanted something from her. Or the way her Tía would still laugh as she remembered the time her mom had almost gotten them both arrested for a bar fight on her 21st birthday, Ray affectionately filling in the parts that she tried to leave out. Warmth bloomed in her chest. This wasn’t just a band, wasn’t just a ragtag trio of friends. These guys were brothers. This was a family. And they were letting her into that intimate circle.

The thought was both humbling and nerve-wracking. This Showcase was a big deal. It wasn’t just some school assignment. This could impact their future as a band career-wise. They were all trusting her with this, fully believing in her, or at least, fully believing in Luke’s faith in her abilities. She wasn’t sure anyone had ever believed in her like that. Not anyone that hadn’t known her since she was in diapers. Her head swam, knees feeling a bit weak. She stumbled her way over to the couch, collapsing onto it with a barely audible huff. Luke was in front of her instantly, crouched down so they were face to face. His hands twitched in his lap, but he didn’t reach for her.

“Hey. Julie. Breathe.”

She sucked in a breath, zeroing in on nothing more than his face. After a few seconds she realized he was breathing in and out slowly, just loud enough for her to hear over the jumble of thoughts running amok in her brain. She matched her own inhales and exhales to his, the room slowly coming back into focus as her head cleared. He gave her one of those soft smiles she was starting to think of as hers.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. But I wouldn’t have stopped you in school if I didn’t think you were gonna rock it. I heard you last night. I listened to you for years before last night.”

His chin dropped in embarrassment for just a second before he pulled his gaze back up to hers. Julie felt like she was on the edge of a cliff. Not for the first time she wished she knew how long this version of Luke had been lurking under the surface. It took everything in her not to let herself step off that ledge and fall.

“Music is in your soul. It’s a part of you. Not everyone is like that, but you are. Your life without music...”

He tapered off like the thought was physically painful to him, eyebrows furrowing in a slight wince.

“Living without music would be like living in a world without stars: dark and empty and uninspired. You deserve galaxies, Julie. You deserve the chance to shine exactly like the star you are, and the world deserves the chance to hear you. Please, just...have a little faith?”

She saw it then. As he gazed at her with those bottomless ocean eyes, with that special smile on his lips and sincerity bleeding through every word, she knew. Luke was like her. Luke got it. In a way that no one else except her mom ever had. That’s what this was. They were kindred spirits, two sides of the same coin. And that feeling? The wind rushing through her hair and stealing her breath away while her limbs all turned to jelly feeling? That was definitely her falling head over heels off of the cliff and into Luke Patterson completely.

“Okay.”

She breathed out, and his answering smile set off the butterflies she thought had finally left her stomach. He stood up and held a hand out to her, easily pulling her to her feet in one smooth movement.

“You know,” his smile turned rueful, “eventually you’re gonna have to answer one of my questions with something other than ‘okay’. That’s a pretty passive word, and I’m not really a passive type of person. I wanna start hearing some ‘hell yeah’s and ‘awesome’s pretty soon.”

Julie rolled her eyes, moving away from Luke to set up her keyboard. He gave her a bouncy little shrug of his shoulders, and she let the levity of his joke wash over her, releasing the last bit of nerves. She could do this. Luke believed in her. Her mom believed in her. Hell, Alex and Reggie believed in her and she barely even knew them. She could do this, just like her mom had said.

Noise from the other boys making their way up the driveway had her rushing to pull both doors to the studio open so they could haul in Alex’s drum kit. The three of them left together to grab amps and guitars, Julie finishing the rest of the set up in the garage. Before she had time to overthink things or freak out again, they were all settled into their spots and Alex was counting down for their first run through. Fingers against the keys, Julie breathed out, opened her mouth, and began to play.

[lovetnaomi]

Nightmares & Curiosities

               It wasn’t like he hadn’t felt this feeling before, he had been made out of another person’s anger after all, he was familiar with feelings that weren’t exactly his. Satan glanced up from his book to the soft steps coming down the hallway. It was unusual to hear someone wandering around the house at this time of night, he was starting to suspect something had happened. _________’s steps were soft as they wandered around the house.

The first day they had gone towards the kitchen, he had just suspected that it was because of feeling hungry in the middle of the night, thankfully he was on dinner duty the next day and had added an extra helping to your plate, but not enough so that you would notice. He had even added in a special dessert from the human world hoping that would help, his brothers all stared at him suspiciously but chopped it up to his perfectionism each of them eating it although with obvious suspicion on their faces. He glanced towards you making sure that you cleared your plate. That didn’t help. Around the same time, the middle of the night, you were up again.

It was the second day, you wondered aimlessly through the halls, stopping between each of their doors, before heading back to your own room. It wasn’t as though he was particularly worried you could be sleepwalking for all he knew. But it made him immensely curious. And he knew himself that he loved a good mystery. But if solving this mystery could help you stay in bed at these hours he wouldn’t be distracted by the sounds of your feet tiptoeing around the hallway instead of a good book.  

On the third day you had wandered outside, it left him completely unprepared. The last thing he wanted was for you to know that he was listening to you aimlessly wander around in the middle of the night if you found out what was happening you likely would stop the situation before he could find the answers he was looking for on the why. It wasn’t like he could just go up and ask you, he knew you would try to hide whatever it was for worry about upsetting any of them. But he couldn’t leave you to wonder around in the cold devildom air this time of year, he sighed doing his best not to feel like he was scrambling to his room and grabbing a jacket to wrap around you as he chastised you for going outside in this air. Or the dangerous that existed outside their house. Not all demons in the devildom knew that you had pacts with them. That was majority of what made your life so peaceful here, the obvious unspoken declaration that they could, and would, hurt them if they ever hurt you. Satan swallowed, glancing at his flashing green eyes as he passed a mirror, taking a breath to curb the anger. It was a hypothetical scenario. No one had harmed you in anyway. You were just outside. He sighed, a coat curled into his hands without wearing one of his own as he stepped outside, only the soft imprint of your feet without any shoes on in the snow outside. You were already gone.

He wondered if the house was too warm, was that what had woken you at an odd hour? Or was it too cold? Were you curious about the devildom snow that had suddenly been falling? What was that feeling buzzing around in his chest each time you woke and wandered around the hall? As someone born with literally someone else’s rage he wasn’t exactly thrilled to have the pact giving him your emotions too. Especially when he couldn’t make out what was happening and why.

On the fourth day he decided to just wait outside your room, he would quietly follow you around the house. The pattern you had taken each day was sporadic. You had even stopped outside his own room once, it was as if you were looking for something. Trying to find something without wanting it. The clock struck nearly two in the morning when you finally opened the door, he drew into the shadows, watching you pull your blankets closer around yourself, glancing towards your lack of slippers before wandering further down the hall. You took your time stopping at each of their rooms, it was actually surprising that his brother’s hadn’t noticed your scent outside their doors the last couple days. It had been driving him insane. Maybe it was because your scent had been throughout the entire house mingling with their own, since his brothers didn’t know something strange was happening, they hadn’t noticed the odd patterns. Or maybe it had been like this all along. Satan took a breath, watching you, you glanced outside watching the snow fall, but thankfully not going outside this time, before continuing to the next room. It was then that he noticed the redness of your eyes. Were you homesick? Maybe he should suggest a trip to the human world over tomorrow night’s dinner. You stumbled your way following the path, he would make his brothers clean their mess that strayed throughout the house tomorrow. You were observing each picture throughout the hall with the eye of an expert painter, before completely circling the house and returning to your room.

By the fifth night he was absolutely frustrated. There was no way he would be able to get into his novel any time soon, instead of trying to indulge himself in the colorful ways of the latest mystery novel he had been looking forwards to for four months, he was instead listening to the strum of the clock to hit almost two o’clock or later and then curiously listening to the sound of your footsteps. The soft careful steps never came that night. Satan let out a sigh at nearly four a.m. realizing that he would finally be able to enjoy his book. But instead, his mind plagued itself of why you were wandering the halls at these hours of the night when no one else was awake, when most humans would be asleep, or they would get sick eventually. And why you suddenly stopped.

And then the sixth night, there was no noise again, except the fighting of Levi and Mammon, which eventually would fade into the background and the quiet noise of Beel wandering into the kitchen until their fridge was empty.  But other than the usual sounds there was no noise of you wandering around the house after everyone else had gone to bed. Satan sighed, maybe you had discovered he was listening to you and became quieter with your steps as to not disturb him. Closing the book, he stood up wandering up the stairs and out of the library. Down the hall into the kitchen, only Beel raiding the fridge, and then back down the hall, Mammon leaving your room quietly, a sign that you were likely asleep or not in there. It wasn’t surprising to see Mammon checking that you were still in there in the middle of the night, it was actually pretty common, until he fell asleep himself. For a demon of greed, it was strange how he wasn’t able to hold onto much and was either taking or being taken from. So, it wasn’t surprising that Mammon was instinctively making sure you hadn’t been taken out of the house either. Not that any of them would let anything or anyone kidnap you. But there was something he couldn’t quite judge him on about checking in just to make sure that you were still there.

Satan sighed, turning back to the library, maybe tonight his brain would let him focus. Who was he kidding? He had a real-life mystery in front of him, sure it wasn’t a murder mystery, not that he would want one in their house, but it was something. Baby steps. He bumped into something, swinging around “watch where-“

It was Belphie. It was known that Belphie was more of a night time person in the first place, but it was still early for him to being wandering around. He didn’t look right. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I was looking for ___________,” his eyes glanced towards Mammon down the hall, still trying his best to be quiet as he wandered to his own room, “But I’m guessing they’re already asleep.”

“I haven’t checked.”

There was silence. Satan glanced towards the ceiling, wanting to know if Belphie felt the feeling that had been blooming from their human, in the middle of the night swirling around in his chest. But also wanting to keep it a secret, something from ___________, and his alone that he wouldn’t share with his brother’s.

Belphie spoke up first, “I was worried about them.”

He didn’t even need to ask, Belphie continued.

“They’ve been drawing on my pact for a couple days now, usually they ask, but I don’t think they’re doing it on purpose this week.”

“How?”

“___________, they’ve been drawing on my sin, I think they’ve been using it to go back to sleep, I got a couple books on insomnia, but…” Belphie glanced towards the side, he understood the point.

“I’ll look into it.”

On the seventh day, Satan found himself wandering into the library later than he usually did, and there you were, just standing there. There you stood, wrapped in a blanket, slippers finally on your feet, doing your best to distract yourself from your reddening eyes, whispering to yourself to keep yourself awake.

Ah, he knew what this was. It wasn’t insomnia. He knew this emotion circling around in your chest, it was fear. You were having nightmares. You were drawing desperately on Belphie’s sin of the Sloth hoping he wouldn’t notice to try to keep the rest of them from noticing that something was terribly wrong. He was tempted to go get the two of you some drinks but was worried you would disappear from his sight now that he had his answers before he could confirm that he was correct.

“_________,” you jumped turning towards him, eyes wide, face reddening as you were quickly trying to disguise the emotions that were swirling in your chest faster than a vendor could make cotton candy, “come here, I’ll pick something out we can read it together.”

Surprisingly you nodded, sitting on the couch as he picked up something you would like, although it wasn’t anything scary or dark, but that was for another time if you wanted, it was still something you would’ve read, or at least enough to keep you enticed. Satan sighed, moving to the couch and pulling you closer so you would be surrounded by his arms. You moved the blanket so it surrounded the both of you, the blanket was big enough to swallow the two of you, it made him curious of how you wandered the halls so often without tripping on it. A small scoff escaped him as he popped open the book, his voice softly streaming into your ear as he began reading to you. Normally, the story would’ve enticed the two of you for hours, but tonight it wasn’t long before you were asleep. He considered carrying you back to your room, but likely whatever it was that was causing your nightmares would resurface it he let you go. Besides, what was the safest place in all of the devildom but in the arms of one of the devildom’s most powerful demons? After that your soft footsteps didn’t linger around the house, but instead would prod right towards the library. Sometimes he would put his book down to switch to something more suiting to the situation, or he would read his book to you, but either way you would be wrapped in his arms.

Several nights later he glanced down, you were already asleep in his arms, a soft smile sprouted on his lips, running his hands through your hair, maybe it wasn’t so bad for these feelings swirling through him. After all, he could feel the feeling of being safe blossoming with the dexterity of a cherry blossom and the strength of a world renown fighting champion. His arms curled slightly further around you. He would ensure that this would be the safest place in the world for you. You would always run back to him.

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 05.1 | thomas jefferson

title: freedom of the press 05.1, or the aftermath

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

words: ~9k

warnings: partial nudity, though it likely isn’t what you're expecting. copious amounts of teasing, and just a touch of financial hardship. i lowkey adore the last scene, but 05 doesn’t reach its highest point of steamy until pt. 2

desc: the 2020 republican presidential frontrunner is an obnoxious, morally bankrupt people-pleaser, but what happens when you become the person he’s most eager to please?

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich @cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudywlw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow  — hope i didnt miss anyone; lmk if you want to be added!!

SUNDAY, 9 AM

Y/N AWOKE TO sun streaming through her windows, and she rolled over with a groan as the bright glare reflected off the snow and into her bedroom. She curled further into the covers, pulled them tighter around herself, shifting underneath the arm that still lay slung over her torso. It took her a minute to process anything being out of place, but as the sleepy haze faded from her mind, her eyes fluttering open to the mid-morning light, she slowly began to realize.

The man beside her shifted with a grumble. Y/N could feel her breath catch as the previous night’s memories hit her like a train, and she looked up at him to confirm she hadn’t dreamt it – but there he was. She’d made her bed, both in the literal sense and the figurative, and there she was, laying in it. Pulling closer to him was unconscious; she’d begun by then to drown in retrospection.

As her gaze, glassy and unfocused, fell to his (notably bare) torso, he inhaled deeply. She didn’t immediately process the rise and fall of his chest as he yawned lightly. As he finally began to wake up, reaching up to rub his eye as he stretched, he squinted down at her, both she and he looking equally drowsy. Her eyes had snapped shut upon realizing he was awake, and with a groggy hum, he absentmindedly pulled her closer, an arm wrapped around her waist. When she tensed against his skin, though, he raised an eyebrow, and she finally looked up at him, her smile timid despite her state of affairs. A grin broke through his tired features.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.”

SUNDAY, 9 PM; TWO WEEKS EARLIER

Y/N HAD ARRIVED home from her short run in Detroit expecting to be met with celebration and relaxation. She knew that moderating the debates, becoming that publicly visible, would do wonders for her career. The final night of the trip was the furthest thing from her mind – even throughout the flight back, articles were being written covering the questions she had asked, her name was popping up associated with the debates all over the Internet. She couldn’t pretend not to be pleased with the effect on her Twitter following.

Her intent had been to engage further with the work she had done when she was out of town. Though she knew she had her weekend off, she figured it’d be good for her to debrief on everything that had happened, everything she could build on going forward.

However, when she arrived home, she was met with one simple announcement: Angelica was moving out.

Obviously, it wasn’t quite as simple as that.

Angelica was engaged, her long-time boyfriend John Church now turned fiancé. Y/N was thrilled for her, and she was reduced nearly to tears when Angelica asked her to be her maid of honor, and Y/N, in turn, insisted on taking her dress shopping. Alex and Eliza had been over for the announcement as well, as they and Y/N hung onto Angelica’s every word as she recounted how John had proposed, getting on one knee after making her a romantic dinner.

"This is honestly the best thing I could’ve come home to,” Y/N gushed, and Angelica let out a soft ‘aw,’ her hand enveloping her friend’s on the couch.

The night really had been a celebration; the drinks didn’t stop until Alex realized he still needed to drive home and Eliza realized she couldn’t drink while pregnant. They’d learned that final tidbit not two weeks earlier.

“We’re glad to have you back.” Alex grinned, and she looked back at him with sentimentality heavy in her gaze. “Especially after you spent the end of the week dragging Republicans through the mud? We’re proud of you.”

Angelica and Eliza laughed while Y/N just rolled her eyes. “I didn’t 'drag anyone through the mud,’ Alexander,” she huffed, but his entertainment only grew.

“Yeah? Tell that to Jefferson.”

She did a poor job hiding her smile. (It’d really ended up closer to a roll in the hay, but that was just semantics.)

“Tonight really is a celebration all around, isn’t it?” Eliza looked proud of her as she raised her grape-juice glass in Y/N’s honor – she’d cut herself off after half a drink, ever the responsible mother.

“I’ll drink to that,” Angelica agreed, nudging Y/N in the side, whose expression had become coy. Alex raised a glass.

“To the next stages in our lives?”

“To weddings and babies!” Eliza grinned. “And dismantling corrupt politics.” Y/N couldn’t help her light laugh at her friend’s declaration, and they all drank without hesitation.

However, the implication was much more than just a celebration.

Everything was changing, for better and for worse – Angelica was engaged, which meant she would be moving in with her fiancé, thus leaving Y/N without a roommate.

When Y/N brought up the move, trying to stamp down her own ulterior motive and selfish curiosity, Angelica seemed to sense her anxiety at that one glaring fact. “I don’t have to move out of here right away, of course. I don’t wanna leave you on your own, or–”

“Oh, no way I’m gonna hold you back from moving in with your future husband,” Y/N said. “I’m self-sufficient; I’ll find a place easy.” She didn’t have to mention what they both knew: she couldn’t afford to stay there without Angelica helping with the bills.

“I know, sweetie.” Her smile was maternal as she placed her hand over Y/N’s. “Would you let me pay next month’s rent, though? I mean, I’m still a tenant–”

“Angelica,” Y/N began, giving her a warning look. “No chance. You know how much I appreciate you… well, spotting me some of my half of our monthly bills, but I can’t let you do that once you aren’t living here. Move out. You deserve it.”

“And where are you gonna go?” Angelica raised an eyebrow, and Y/N shrugged, nonchalant.

“We’re in DC; there are empty apartments everywhere. I should be able to afford a studio somewhere around here, right?” Angelica, Eliza, and Alex looked skeptical at that. Y/N made decent money at the Washington Post, but with her student debt, her savings were in shambles.

She huffed as she realized the looks they shared. “Or I’ll find a roommate. I’ll just crash with another friend until I find somewhere with a down payment I can afford.”

Angelica sighed. “What if I just helped you with the deposit on another place around here?”

“No, Ang,” she insisted with a huff. Her stare was deadpanned, her tone flat. However, Angelica didn’t seem to be near acquiescing.

“And why not?” She frowned as she pulled a leg up on the couch, hugging it and resting her head on her knee. “It really doesn’t make a dent. It’s family money.”

“But I need to pay this off for myself.” Angelica furrowed her brow, and Y/N could only huff. “You’ll never know what it’s like to have grown up without money, and I’m glad you didn’t, but this is bigger than just a bill. I love you for being willing to support me, but I can’t let you.” She set her drink down as she shifted to face Angelica. “I have to be able to pay my own rent. I’m not gonna let myself be dependent on you, or feel like I owe you–”

“You wouldn’t owe me anthing!” Angelica protested, but Y/N gave her a hard look.

“But I’d feel like I did. I need to support myself.”

“Okay, honey.” Angelica again reached for her hand, running her thumb over her friend’s knuckles. “If you really need money, though, you could pick up some shifts at Mira and Orlando’s diner. You know they’d always have you.”

She sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I just always feel bad asking them for work.”

“It’s not charity, Y/N, it’s a job. They need the help anyway.” Angelica shrugged, and Y/N pursed her lips. It was a serious consideration; she knew they’d give her the job part-time, she already knew how to do it, and it’d be easy money. She’d worked at the old couple’s diner sporadically since coming to D.C., primarily when she needed rent money right after she made the move. Besides, it was pleasant work around them.

“I dunno… I just don’t wanna let them think I can’t support myself, that I need their help with my finances.”

“And how do you expect to handle your finances without work? That’s kinda how market economies work.” Alex looked unimpressed as he interjected, and though she shot him a weak glare, Y/N couldn’t argue.

His tone was firm, but Y/N’s hesitance was far from unwarranted. Mira and Orlando were her godparents, and they had lived near Y/N and her family in her hometown when she was growing up. Them living and running a hole-in-the-wall family diner in D.C. was a happy coincidence. They’d functioned as parents for Y/N for a number of years, though, and she knew they’d worry if they thought she was struggling to make ends meet. They didn’t need any more stress in their lives.

When she didn’t answer, Angelica continued, and though her voice was quiet, her tone was firm. “Hey. They’re understaffed, and they absolutely adore you. They’ll always want your help.”

“I dunno.” Y/N’s stare was fixed on the floor before her as the silence grew, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet any of their eyes. She’d end up going to her godparents for work, almost undoubtedly, but none of them could do anything more about the guilt that was strung across Y/N’s shoulders like a yoke. They couldn’t keep her from trying to carry the weight of the world with her.

It was Eliza who finally broke the pause, eyes bright. “Come stay with us!” she offered, and Y/N couldn’t help but grin at her generosity. She glanced at Alex, and he shrugged, nodded along, and her smile was warm as she shook her head lightly.

“You both know I can’t accept that. You have a toddler and another baby on the way; the last thing you need is a houseguest.”

Alex scoffed. “Whatever. You’re family. Family takes care of family, Y/N.”

His words went straight to her heart, but she really couldn’t impose like that. She bit her lip before replying, “Alex, it means the world to me that you’d offer. Really. But that’s not fair to you or your pregnant wife.”

He held her gaze for a moment, but clearly sensing her determination, he pursed his lips. “Will you at least let us all help find you a place?”

She gave him a soft smile, though wry amusement seeped into it. “Happen to know any wealthy heirs you can marry me off to? I’m flexible.”

Alex rolled his eyes as Eliza laughed, though he didn’t hide his grin. “Why? So you can go with them to their creepy manors until they die of unexplainable causes?”

She scoffed. “Obviously we’ll go on a cruise for our honeymoon where a tragic accident will befall him, making me the sole beneficiary of his will.”

“What was I thinking?” Alex’s tone reeked of sarcasm, and he shook his head at her before pausing, seeming as though a thought had struck him. “Actually, though, I might have a suggestion.”

“You do know a rich, elderly property-owner?”

“Take out elderly and you’re set.” He shrugged. “Lafayette’s roommate–”

He didn’t get any further, though, as Y/N groaned. “Really? Lafayette is your big idea? You want him to die in a mysterious accident?”

Alex just rolled his eyes. “I’m not offering him up for you to gold-dig. His roommate just moved out, though, and he hasn’t started looking for another one.”

“Do you think I could afford to be Lafayette’s roommate?” Disbelief hung heavy in her tone.

“Maybe not, but I’m sure he’d be happy to let you stay with him until you can find a place.” He shrugged, giving a small smile. “You and him are friends, right?”

Her mind immediately jumped to one specific botched Twitter interaction. Right then, he wasn’t exactly at the top of the list of people she’d like to live with. “… Sort of.”

“Great!” His smile grew with that, taking her words for much more than he knew they were. She rolled her eyes. “C'mon, he has an empty bedroom from his roommate and an open guest bedroom. He has enough space and then some.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Geez, you sure he doesn’t live in some kind of mansion?”

“Might be a penthouse.” She fixed Alex with a skeptical stare, and he had the audacity to grin. “What? I told you he was wealthy. Besides, that’s perfect for you, isn’t it?”

She pursed her lips, considering her options as she absentmindedly rubbed her right shoulder, an arm crossed over her body as she shrunk back. She certainly didn’t have a better idea. “You really think he’d be okay with it?”

“Of course,” Alex reassured her, before raising a teasing brow. “Besides, he seemed to take a bit of a liking to you at the state dinner, at least from where I was sitting. I can’t imagine he’d object to getting you alone for a few days.”

“Alex,” she groaned dramatically, leaning back onto the couch in exaggerated exhaustion. “I am not about to barter sex for a place to stay.”

“I’d never suggest such a thing,” he scoffed, though his gaze drifted down to the spot where her shoulder met her neck, where Y/N’s hand had been moments ago, just above her collarbone. He furrowed his brow before his gaze jumped back to hers. “Though, if that hickey is any indication, you’re not exactly sexually inactive.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror; her hand jumped immediately to the offending area. She’d set her concealer so well; she had been sure it wasn’t visible, but it seemed she’d gradually rubbed the makeup off of it.

Angelica gasped as though scandalized, and Eliza turned to her with wide eyes. “Y/N? Who have you been getting it on with in Detroit?” Angelica grinned after a moment, though, eyes shining with amusement. Y/N’s face had to be burning by then. “James Madison been a little too frisky?”

“Angelica.” She looked to her with annoyance, her teeth gritted.  She swallowed, trying to keep her throat from drying out. “How many times do I have to tell you–”

“With how embarrassed she looks, it has to have been one of the Republicans, right?” Alex cocked his head to the side, considering her. They’d functionally cut her out of the conversation as they discussed her liaison, and Alex’s grin looked overly self-satisfied, in her opinion. “So, if it wasn’t Madison, then who? Hm? Henry Clay? Chuck Schumer–?”

“Come on,” Y/N moaned. Much of her resistance came from the fact that they were dangerously close to the truth -- not that it mattered, as Alex was ignoring it anyway. “It was just some guy at the hotel; it’s not a big deal.”

“Pence?” Alex pressed, entirely undeterred. He gasped, pressing a hand to his heart as though scandalized. “Jefferson?”

Y/N was glaring daggers into his playful gaze. He was joking – of course, he was – but that didn’t stop the panic from rising in her throat, the burning at the tips of her ears. Thankfully, Angelica scoffed, apparently finding the idea too ridiculous to even entertain.

“Alex, don’t be silly,” Eliza interjected, putting a hand on his forearm. Her kind gaze had fallen to Y/N, who hoped dearly she was going to put an end to his taunting. That was before the impish smile spread across her lips. “Y/N would never get with a Republican. She’s too attached too her politics.”

“Oh?” The look in her eyes had Y/N skeptical.

“Of course.” Eliza nodded reasonably. “So it would’ve had to have been Lafayette.”

Y/N’s groan was even louder that time, before Angelica and Alex had a chance to chime in.

“Is that why you don’t want to be his roommate?” Angelica gasped. “Was it that bad?”

“Or was it just so good you wouldn’t be able to control yourself around him?” Alex wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Y/N deadpanned. “C'mon, Y/N, you can tell us.”

“I didn’t fuck Lafayette!” she protested, but they didn’t seem ready to drop it.

“Then why not ask to be his roommate, hm?” Alex appeared to have claimed victory.

“Because I can’t–”

“Really,” Angelica interrupted her before she could protest. “It’d be a great place to stay, so if you two weren’t going at it, why wouldn’t you go for the offer?”

“And if you weren’t in–”

“Okay, enough.” Y/N cut Alex off with a huff. She wasn’t angry so much as flustered, try as she might to appear to be the former. By then, she was desperate to shift their focus from her sex life. “Will me agreeing to crash at Lafayette’s apartment get you off my back?”

She paused, if only for dramatic effect as her gaze flickered between her friends. “Then fine. Ask him. But don’t blame me when he’s not jumping at the idea of taking in a squatter.”

Alex looked annoyingly smug. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

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

Predictably, Lafayette was more than happy to have her stay with him. He’d never had an aversion to houseguests, but he’d be bluffing if he tried to claim he hadn’t taken a liking to her.

However, she knew it could only be temporary – couch-surfing across the District of Columbia, unfortunately, wasn’t a sustainable plan. She’d spent hours digging through her financials for some saving grace, but she came up with nothing. Perhaps a wealthy distant relative would die soon and she’d be given all of the inheritance as their only living descendant? Certainly seemed possible. Now just to sign up for Ancestry.com, and–

“How much do we have left?”

Her eyebrows shot up as she glanced back at Lafayette over her shoulder, cutting her musings short. She tucked the folder she was leafing through discreetly into the side of the cardboard box before her, careful to hide its label; she wasn’t proud of being caught with her nose buried into her old tax returns, trying to determine how feasible fraud or extortion might be.

Though he had been doing more work than Angelica and Y/N combined, Lafayette seemed to be the only one not exhausted. He stood in the doorway, hands on his hips and his expression bright as Y/N and Angelica packed up some of their final loose ends.

“Not much,” Y/N told him. “Just need to get everything else into these last couple boxes, and we’re golden.”

The three of them had spent the past few afternoons gutting her apartment of anything that wasn’t part of the building, so she wouldn’t be starting from scratch when she found a place. Initially, Y/N had commissioned Angelica to help her with the move, but when Lafayette heard through Alex that they’d intended to spend the next couple days on it, he absolutely insisted that they’d need his assistance.

“Is zere anything else I can do?” He continued into the room, eyebrows raised, and Y/N pursed her lips.

“Turn down the thermostat?” she asked. “We don’t need to be charged for another day of heating, no matter how cold it is out.” (They were in the midst of a blizzard, but to each their own.) “Besides, it’s too damn hot in here.” She huffed as she tugged at the hem of her turtleneck, and Angelica looked at her knowingly.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t needed to choose such a…” She paused, eyes settling somewhere around Y/N’s shoulder. “…strategic outfit, you wouldn’t be having any problem.”

Y/N’s hand instinctively flew up to cover the spot, despite knowing it was hidden under a solid inch of nappy wool, and Angelica grinned, self-content shining in her eyes. Y/N scowled as her friend mockingly fanned herself, pulling at the collar of her own shirt.

“Ang,” she warned. “Not the time.”

“What? Don’t want Lafayette to find out your dirty little secret?” Angelica teased, and Lafayette raised an eyebrow, his curiosity immediately piqued.

“Oh?” Lafayette’s gaze settled on the neck of her sweater, and Y/N glared at Angelica. She hardly stifled her snickering. Lafayette raised an inquisitive eyebrow, though as a grin split through his face, his gaze turned teasing. Angelica’s insinuation unfortunately wasn’t hard to follow. “Wearing zat because you 'ave something to hide?”

“Not you, too,” Y/N whined, and he laughed.

“Mmh, I don’t recall you having any problems with zis when we were in Detroit, chérie.” He folded his arms, expectant. “How 'ave you managed to go and get yourself into trouble this quickly?”

“Hang on,” Angelica cut in before she could respond. “She came back from Detroit with a hickey, though.”

“Impossible. I saw 'er ze last night there.” Lafayette furrowed his brow, and they both turned to Y/N for an explanation. “What, exactly, 'appened between ze final night of debates and when you left in ze morning?”

“It was just some guy from the hotel.” Y/N huffed. It was a half-truth, ultimately, which also made it her default response. “Stop making such a big deal out of it.”

“'Some guy from ze hotel’, hm?” Lafayette appeared wholly skeptical. He hesitated, considering his next words very carefully, before continuing. “You know, you never did tell me what 'appened with what I sent you on Twitter.”

Her eyes widened a fraction of an inch. There was no way he’d caught on that quickly.

“No correlation, Lafayette,” she said, her jaw tense. She couldn’t believe he’d actually connected the dots that quickly.

Yes, his Twitter conversation with Thomas about her had been earlier on the final day, and yes, everyone involved with the debates was lodged in the same hotel, but it seemed like a flimsy premise.

“Maybe not.” He shrugged. “But I am allowed to be curious about whether you ever… spoke to him.” His eyes again traveled to her neck with his last three words, and she glared. Angelica looked positively baffled.

That was when it hit her. It was her conversation with Thomas the night prior that had raised Lafayette’s suspicions. He’d already been wondering what about the state dinner had Thomas so pressed, and the confirmation about exactly how Y/N had spent her final night in Detroit all but spelled it out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lafayette.” Y/N’s tone was final as she shut down his less-than-subtle speculation, even though Angelica and Lafayette shared a skeptical look. Neither of them was oblivious to the fact that there was something she wasn’t telling them. “I left the building long before him after the debates. Now can we please finish packing before they charge me another month’s rent?”

“Of course.” Lafayette’s tone was again light, having transitioned back to his cheerful self without missing a beat. The smile he wore then was slightly more knowing, however, and his gaze more calculating. He glanced at the floor around them. “So, which boxes need to be taken out, now?”

Y/N deadpanned. “All of them, Lafayette.”

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

Y/N didn’t have much luck finding a place from the comfort of Lafayette’s oversized, imported-leather sofa. Unfortunately for her, all the boxes she needed to check for a studio apartment seemed to be perfectly out of line with one another.

She wasn’t worried about the size. She didn’t have much; she didn’t need much space. Give her a place for a kitchen, a bed, and a toilet (ideally, a sink as well), and she was all set. So with that, price shouldn’t have been a terrible issue – she was flexible.

However, she couldn’t find a cheap studio apartment that didn’t have one ridiculously major pitfall. If it was close to work, the bathroom floor was beginning to cave in beneath her feet and the ceiling was leaking. If it was structurally sound, it was drowning in rats. If it was clean, none of the pipes worked. Her ideal didn’t seem to exist.

She ultimately had to swallow her pride, though she couldn’t help but choke on it in the process. Despite her resistance, she’d took Angelica’s advice to work at her godparents’ diner, but everything was a trade-off. Her second source of income meant spending less time on her real career – no more unpaid overtime, no more events off-the-clock, no more pouring hours into research every evening.

Her boss was happy to strike a compromise, to her delight. She’d do dramatically fewer of them, and events would be on the clock. However, she’d be obligated to cover every event that Ashley assigned her.

The lack of flexibility felt like a small price to pay. The next afternoon, it meant that Y/N didn’t have to attend another local Republican primary town hall, which meant another day that she could avoid confronting what’d happened in Michigan. (However, that meant she was being sent to a Jefferson campaign fundraiser just days later, but you can’t win them all.)

Instead, she took that time to go job-searching, which manifested itself strikingly similarly to Y/N begging her godmother for shifts.

“Mija, do you need money? You know you don’t have to be shy; you can ask us for it.” Y/N had shown up after her hours at the WaPo, and Mira pulled her by the elbow into the kitchen almost the moment she’d begun talking. She looked at Y/N with concern in her eyes, and Y/N sighed. This was exactly what’d caused her hesitance in the first place.

“Mira, I love you, but I can’t accept that.”

Mira furrowed her brow, tossed her dishrag over her shoulder before folding her arms. “And why not. Hm? You need it!”

“I know you only want the best for me, but I won’t just take your money. Let me work for it, okay?” What they both knew went unsaid – it’d stretch them thinner than thin to give Y/N any money, let alone enough to pay off her debts. “I’ve worked here before, more than once. I already know what I’m doing, so you won’t even have to train me. Just let me pick up some shifts?”

Though she pursed her lips, Mira refrained from arguing. It would be to little avail. “Fine. If it means having you around more often, it’ll be done gladly.” Mira put on an adoring pout, reaching up to try to pinch one of Y/N’s cheeks, who deflected it with a sigh that didn’t hold even the facade of exhaustion. “You don’t come around enough! We miss you, mija.”

“You’re too much, you know that?”

“And what’s wrong with that, hm?” Mira winked, a grin working its way onto her face, before she nodded toward the diner’s counter through the kitchen window. “I gotta go back to our customers, though. Talk to Jac about shifts, okay?”

“Sounds great.”

Mira pulled her in for a hug, kissed her on the forehead before leaving. (She had to pull Y/N down to reach her head.) “You know you can always come to us if you need help. Always.”

Y/N’s smile softened. “I know, Mira.”

“Good.” She held her gaze just a moment longer, squeezed Y/N’s hand, before she finally turned, leaving Y/N to look for Jac.

Jac – short for Jacinto, but none of their grade-school friends really tried to pronounce it, and the nickname had stuck – was Mira’s son. He was a year older than Y/N, and they’d grown up as siblings in every way but literally before they both moved to DC within months of one another. So when she spotted him over toward the front of the kitchen slicing a ham, she didn’t hesitate to go over and greet him, smile wide.

He jumped when she elbowed him to get his attention, letting out a yelp. He turned to see her, eyes wide, and he sighed. “Do you make a hobby of trying to get my thumbs cut off?”

She shrugged, feigning innocence. “I dunno what you’re talking about. I’d never put you in danger.”

“You pushed me while I had my hand in a meat slicer.”

“You put you in danger when you put your hand in a meat slicer.”

He scowled, though they both knew his annoyance wasn’t in earnest as he focused his attention back on his task. “What are you here for, anyway? If you want dinner, you’re not exempt from the line.”

“I need work.”

That got his attention. “You do?” His eyes were wide, and she shifted her weight where she stood, not eager to own up to her financial trouble. “What for? Aren’t you still doing great with the Washington Post? I saw you on TV last week.”

“You’ve been watching me?” She put a hand over her heart, playing up how touched she was by his attention, and he just rolled his eyes. “Aww, Jac, I knew you cared.”

“Answer the question.”

A beat passed. “I need a second job,” Y/N finally admitted, and he raised an eyebrow. “I just need another source of income. I’m drowning in student debt, and I need to build up some savings.” It was mainly true. She didn’t want to bring up her situation with rent, though; it’d just worry them more.

He pursed his lips, concern for her not leaving his gaze. “When are you available to work?”

“Any day after 5 PM, and I can almost always free up my full Saturday and Sunday.”

He nodded. “And what’d you when you worked here before?”

“Baking, usually.” His expression didn’t change for a moment, and she quickly added, “I also worked as a cashier and a barista from time to time, so if you need–”

“Relax, Y/N, you aren’t up for review.” Jac chuckled, wiping his hands on an old rag. She raised her eyebrows. “If you want work, it’s yours. Mira just has me in charge of the schedule, so I need to figure out when to give you shifts.”

“I’m flexible,” she added, and he gave her an amused smile.

“I know.” He went to the sink to wash his hands, in front of the kitchen window. “Would you be able to close up on weeknights? I mean, I feel like we can trust you not to rob the diner blind, and Mira and Orlando are too old to be working that late, so it’s me doing it every evening.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” She glanced out the window at the packed restaurant. “Is it always this busy?”

“Every lunch and dinner,” he confirmed with a nod. “They all clear outta here by about eight, though, so from then until nine, you’re just left watching the stragglers leave.”

She didn’t answer, eyeing the crowd before her. The diner really did do good business; the tables by the front window were packed to an impressive density, and she couldn’t figure out whether they were all there to eat together. (Surely that’s too many for one group at a table, right?)

A younger couple moved out of the space, and she immediately saw clear as day exactly why they were all crowded right there. Her breath caught.

There stood Thomas Jefferson, laughing, shaking hands, taking pictures, signing autographs. He was even handing out buttons. Y/N raised her eyebrows. Wasn’t he supposed to be at a townhall right then for the primaries?

“Jac,” she hissed, keeping her voice low as though Thomas would ever be able to hear her from there. Jac raised an eyebrow. “Is he allowed to just be… campaigning from the back of the room? Doesn’t he need some kind of permit to be handing things out?”

When Jac saw the crowd Y/N was staring at, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Listen, I know he’s not exactly your favorite person. I’ve read your writing–”

“You’ve read my writing?” she asked in disbelief, wearing a small smile as she pretended to be touched. He ignored it.

“–And I know you won’t exactly be lining up at the polls to vote for him, but he’s been a regular here for a couple of months, now, and Mom’s gotten attached. He’s not gonna get kicked out.”

All the while, her skeptical gaze stayed firmly fixed on his little posse, and when he looked up – she should’ve expected the result, really; he was facing the window she was looking out of – just a moment later, he locked eyes with Y/N from across the room.

Her eyes widened, but he seemed more surprised than she was. They both froze, hardly for a second, before he raised his eyebrow, his familiar (though unusually small) lopsided grin adorning his lips, and folded his arms across his chest – what a coincidence. His teasing front had taken root in seconds, but from that distance, Y/N was sure she was imagining the warmth of his gaze.

She blinked hard, as though she could’ve imagined him being there at all, staring back at her. He seemed detached from his immediate surroundings as she nodded to him in wary greeting. She had his focus for the time being.

After a moment, though, he appeared to have chuckled, shaking his head. When her gaze again met his rather pleased one, he gave her quite a pointed look as he brushed his thumb over the base of his neck, cocked his head to the side as though in curiosity. Her eyebrows shot up. It would’ve looked to anyone else like he’d simply smoothed out his collar, but she knew better.

She had to remind herself to keep breathing. His point was clear, his gaze expectant as she tried to hide her shame, reaching up to shift the neck of her shirt over the persistent hickey. All day at the office, her blazer had covered it, so when she left, she’d forgotten it would be exposed.

His smile seemed to grow as she reddened, and while she scowled, he held her gaze just a moment longer, before he sent her a sly wink. When he turned back to those around him, her interaction seemed to have heightened the flair in his demeanor, his persona suddenly exaggerated.

She didn’t realize that Jac had watched the whole interaction – he didn’t make the connection with the hickey, thank God, but the silent challenge had raised a number of questions.

“What was that?” he asked bluntly, and Y/N all but jumped, having nearly forgotten where she was.

Her eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“What do you think?” He cast a meaningful glance out the window at Thomas before looking skeptically at Y/N. “You know him a little better than you’re letting on?”

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “I’ve just interviewed him a couple times. We’re acquainted. Don’t make it into a thing.”

“…Right.” He didn’t press further as heat rose to her cheeks.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, about that schedule?”

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

Despite her lack of success in house-hunting, Y/N adjusted easily to life at Lafayette’s. He was a gracious host, and just being there gave her access to more space, food, and alpaca-fur throws than she’d ever need.

She’d just finished showering on that Saturday afternoon while Lafayette was out at the store. They’d run out of something or other – she wasn’t keeping close track. All his food was a cut above what she usually ate, so she wasn’t about to make demands.

She yawned as she stepped out of the bathroom, wearing just a towel wrapped around herself; she knew she’d be alone in the loft for at least the next hour. She padded down Lafayette’s hardwood hall, intending to get the turtleneck (that was seeing more and more use) from the laundry before she went to change. However, it seemed she hadn’t heard the door to the apartment open over the sound of the running water sometime within the last twenty minutes.

It was after she’d retrieved her shirt that she realized it. Her room was on the other end of the loft from the room she’d elected to shower in. (It was an inconvenience she was winning to undergo – the master bathroom had a sauna, an oversized vanity mirror and a shower stall nearly larger than her bed).

She hummed absentmindedly to herself as she emerged into the also-oversized main room, but when she did, she stopped in her tracks, let out a squeak of surprise.

There, standing frozen less than a yard from her, was the bane of… well, her month, maybe. To call him the bane of her existence felt too harsh. His eyes must have been wider than hers, though she looked mortified as she stumbled backward toward the couch. “Thomas?!”

He hadn’t moved an inch from where he stood, facing her with shock in the open path that split the kitchen and the living room. “Y/N?

She sounded like she’d just had the wind knocked out of her as she asked, "What the hell are you doing here?”

“I have a lunch meeting with Lafayette,” he said simply as his gaze began to trail down her form suspiciously. Looking her in the eye, he cocked an eyebrow. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I’m staying here.” She nervously pulled her towel tighter around herself as his eyebrows shot up. His gaze was humorless – a rare sight, considering what she’d found to be his baseline.

“You’re stayin’ here?” he repeated in disbelief, and she nodded, feeling defensive. Again, his gaze drifted lower. “Is it just a one-night thing, or are you and Lafayette… ?”

She let out a short huff, almost a laugh in her shock. The implication was obvious. “Excuse me?”

“You’ll have to forgive me for assumin’.” Seeing her reaction, the offense he’d inadvertently provoked, he couldn’t help the small smile twisting his lips. She rolled her eyes as he slowly grew amused.

“It’s neither.” She scowled, skin feeling like it was on fire. The situation – the amount of specifically visible skin that felt like it was on fire – combined with his speculation had her feeling borderline humiliated. She shifted her towel further up her chest.

Thomas raised a teasing eyebrow. “Really, sweetheart?”

“Don’t call me that.” She glared up at him, in no mood for his clowning, and he chuckled.

“What, is that reserved for Laf?” he teased, and when she rolled her eyes, adjusting the towel she held around her, he laughed outright. “Aw, don’t take offense, I’m only–”

“You’re only joking,” Y/N finished for him, appearing unamused, though heat still settled in the back of her neck and the tips of her ears. “Yeah, I’ve heard this one before.”

His grin widened. “C'mon, don’t freeze me out.”

She ignored his response entirely. “Anyway, I’m just here as a houseguest. It’s all temporary; I’m kind of between apartments right now.” She hated that she felt like she had to explain herself, but she knew how it looked – her, walking into Lafayette’s living room hardly covered, and as far as Thomas knew, Lafayette couldn’t have been far.

“What typa houseguest?” That was as far as he decided to push it, though, snickering as Y/N’s glare burned into him. She shifted on her feet, uncomfortable as he eyed her before him, anxiety betraying her anger, and his gaze settled on the little mark on her neck she’d forgotten about in her temporary panic. Her eyes widened; he wasn’t about to ignore it.

He met her eyes once again, though his shone with a satisfaction she couldn’t prevent. “You know I’m only kidding,” he started, tongue in cheek as he tried to contain his amusement, and she looked at him in disbelief. “After all, if you were sleepin’ with Lafayette, you’d have a lot more than just one hickey, sweetheart.”

She groaned loudly at his words, her reaction making him laugh outright as she pinched the bridge of her nose, and while he looked unspeakably smug, she wasn’t entertained. Her skin still felt hot; she elected to believe it was from the shower she’d just left. “Alright, I’m gonna go change. Lafayette is still at the store, so he’s gonna be a little late to your meeting.”

Y/N began to walk off before he could say another word, but as she reached the opposite hallway, he called after her, the sound of his voice making her pause. She didn’t have the good sense to cut him off, which she began to regret the moment she could hear his cheeky smile in his tone. “Can’t complain, with this kinda company in the meantime.”

She slammed her door behind her, but its sound didn’t drown out his laugh.

She stood there idle for a moment, trying to gather her bearings and conjure up the strength to deal with him until Lafayette came back. She would’ve just stayed cooped up in there for the rest of the afternoon, waiting Thomas out, and she knew it would’ve worked – to her knowledge, he wasn’t that much of a pervert – but it was just before noon, and all she’d had that morning was a granola bar and a black coffee.

Y/N considered her options as she pulled on actual clothes, including the turtleneck she’d retrieved from the dryer. (She didn’t need any more comments.) Some part of her was simply desperate to avoid the awkwardness, or otherwise just her own discomfort, and instead wanted to burrow into her sheets and stream reality TV, but as she was about to give the thought precedence, her stomach growled in protest. She checked her phone. Lafayette had given no indication of when he’d be back.

Grudgingly, she returned to the kitchen, deciding that avoiding Thomas wasn’t quite worth her harrowing famine.

“Missed me already?”

She immediately second-guessed her decision, however. She paused in the hall, taking a deep breath to calm herself despite his raised eyebrow, his expectant smile, and she continued, keeping the Tupperware of Lafayette’s homemade pasta at the forefront of her mind.

“Missed Lafayette’s pantry,” she corrected, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Guess I’m just an added perk.”

She huffed out a sarcastic laugh as she opened the refrigerator, scanning the shelves for the chicken alfredo she had her heart set on. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Never.”

She pursed her lips to hide what was becoming a soft smile, unironically that time – but she didn’t have to for long. After another moment of searching, she realized the Holy Grail of pasta leftovers was gone, apparently having been eaten in less than the past twenty-four hours, and she groaned, shutting the fridge and leaning against its door.

“What’s wrong?” She turned around to see Thomas sitting in one of the chairs Lafayette had stationed beside the kitchen’s island. He quirked an eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t understand.” She sighed dramatically, turning instead to the freezer to withdraw her plan B.

“Oh?” He looked thoroughly entertained at her theatrics, clearly not buying a moment of it. Y/N nodded, folding her arms.

“My pasta leftovers are gone.”

He snorted. “Oh, the horror.”

“Don’t you mock me!” She huffed as she dug through his food, bending down to withdraw everything she’d need for her second-choice lunch. “Now I have to eat old fries.”

“A true tragedy.”

“I’m glad you agree.”

He grinned at how matter-of-fact she sounded as she pulled out pre-packaged fries, and he leaned forward onto the counter, resting on his elbows. “Any chance I can get some water?”

She turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “It’s not my kitchen; do what you want.” She tipped the plastic bag into a bowl until it was just overflowing (the fact that they were smiley fries instantly improved her mood) before popping it in the microwave. However, when she reached up to grab a glass for herself, she pulled two down without thinking, filling them both.

When she turned back to him holding both cups of water, his smile was soft, but the moment she raised an eyebrow at him, a grin split through.

“I like the sweater,” he commented mildly, and she paused where she stood, giving him a dead stare. She stood there a moment as he bit back a laugh, before she turned.

“Nope. You’re not getting the water. Good try, though. I’m pouring it out.” She shook her head as she started walking back toward the sink, though she had to swallow the amusement that threatened to rise.

“Hey, c'mon!” he laughed, and Y/N glanced back at him over her shoulder. She raised an eyebrow. “Sweetheart.”

“Thomas.”

“Have some mercy,” he pleaded. He gave her a hopeful smile, eyebrows raised. “Would it help if I mentioned that I was just teasin’?”

A beat passed, and she didn’t move an inch. Ultimately, though, she scoffed as she turned back to him, caving with little resistance. He grinned when she slid him the second glass, though she rolled her eyes at his antics. “Y'know, you can only use that excuse so many times, Jefferson.”

“Seems to be working for me so far.” She leaned on the counter across from him, and he asked. “So why’re you livin’ with Lafayette?”

He looked inquisitively at Y/N as he took a sip of water, and she sighed. “Just… got into a bit of a bind with rent at my old place. Couldn’t have kept paying, so either I had to move out or they were gonna evict me.” She shrugged, looking down. “I’m just here until I can find somewhere I can afford.”

While most of the U.S. was no stranger to vanishing savings and student debt, Y/N had a feeling that Thomas was part of the small minority with no experience in the particular field. From what she knew of him, he’d been born into money and then proceeded to stay in it, so he wasn’t the first person she’d have chosen to admit her financial struggles to.

Still, when she looked up, he wore a small frown, apparently concerned. “’M sorry to hear that.” His voice was quiet, and she let out a dry laugh at the unexpected shift in his demeanor.

“Thanks, Thomas.”

He seemed to take the surprise in her tone as skepticism, and he pursed his lips. “Really, I am.”

She took a sip of her water, shaking her head in light amusement, but when he finally caught her eyes, her gaze was soft.

“I know.”

She held his stare another moment before she sighed, rolling her shoulders back and plastering on a smile. “Anyway, I’m in the lap of luxury until I find a new place, so I suppose I can’t complain.”

“You talkin’ about the penthouse or me?” Thomas didn’t miss a beat before in restoring his playful smile, and despite herself, Y/N laughed.

“Can’t it be both?” She quirked a brow, and he seemed pleasantly surprised at her response.

“You comin’ onto me?” he asked, incredulous, and she rolled her eyes – she’d dropped her front of annoyance by then, however. He sighed, giving her a contrived look of pity. “Oh, sweetheart, I hope I didn’t give you the wrong idea.”

“Shut up!” she scoffed, shoving his arm from across the counter, but his grin in response was contagious.

“I dunno, Y/N. I might have to report you to HR.” He raised his hands as though to claim defense. Her amusement didn’t subside.

“I’m sorry, did I cross a line?” she mocked him, and he cocked a brow.

“If this was crossing a line, then what was Detroit?”

Her breath hitched. The question caught her entirely off guard, her playful air giving way for her anxiety to take over. The traces of a grin still on his lips were the only remaining sign of his teasing demeanor, but despite them, she could see in his eyes that poking fun at her wasn’t the aim behind the question.

Really, what was Detroit?

She took a deep breath, not breaking his gaze. She didn’t have an answer for him – at least, not the sort of answer she knew he was looking for. She gave a small smile and raised an eyebrow, her voice quiet when she replied, “An HR scandal?”

Despite his small smile, he was searching her expression, looking for anything that might shed light on her ambiguity. He sighed, and neither looked away.

He looked like he was going to press the matter, and her pulse began to pick up, but she was saved by the bell. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the front door opened.

“Y/N?”

They heard Lafayette before she saw him, and despite the mundanity of the scene he’d come home to, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like a deer in headlights.

“Hey, Laf.” Her voice was hesitant as he turned to lock the door behind him, balancing his paper bag of groceries on his knee.

He turned to the pair of them with a bright smile, pausing only a moment when he saw Thomas seated at the counter. He furrowed his brow. It wasn’t a second later when he appeared to be struck by realization, and he sighed, eyes wide as he walked over to put the groceries on the counter.

“Ah, Thomas, was today our lunch meeting?” The words were less of a question than an admission. “I am so sorry; I put it down on my calendar for ze wrong afternoon. I am still available, if you are not too angry after my being zis late?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He shrugged. Anything pensive about his demeanor had seemingly been pushed down when he saw Lafayette. He flashed him a carefree grin. “Didn’t have anything else to do today.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, though he still appeared apologetic. “You are too forgiving.”

It was then that he reached the kitchen to put away the food he’d bought, and he glanced over his shoulder, looked between Thomas and Y/N where she leaned over the counter toward him. He turned back to the pantry to hide the grin Y/N knew he wore. “Although, I am sure Y/N was very…” He met her gaze, eyes narrowed, and she wore a warning stare. “…accommodating. Non?”

He didn’t think Thomas could see it as he sent Y/N a sharp wink, but he wasn’t quite as sly as he’d like to believe. Y/N scowled. All three of them knew his words suggested more than their surface implied.

Thomas was grinning, however. While Y/N’s face was burning, he seemed wholly amused. “'Course, Laf. She’s been nothin’ if not hospitable.”

She looked over at him with dead eyes, and his smile just seemed to broaden.

“I am glad to hear it.” Lafayette raised an eyebrow at Y/N as he finally rejoined the pair, eyes shining. “Maybe I do not 'ave to feel so guilty about being late, hm?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, pushed herself off the counter to retrieve her long-forgotten fries from the microwave. “Don’t you two have a meeting to get to?”

“Of course, chérie.” The charm in his smile was contrived. “Let me go get my notes from my study?”

The words were directed at Thomas, who shrugged amiably. “Meet you back down here.” However, the moment Lafayette left, he leaned on his elbows over the counter, tongue in cheek, and raised an eyebrow at Y/N. “Any idea why Lafayette’s actin’ like he knows somethin’ I don’t, sweetheart?”

He looked unbelievably smug, though he raised his eyebrows with feigned innocence, and Y/N glared. “No clue.”

Though she left the room in a huff, she couldn’t help the smile that persisted for the next hour.

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

Y/N sent: you showed up late on purpose didn’t you

By that point, it’d been just over three hours since Thomas had arrived, and for Y/N, having to write yet another article about him hadn’t proved to be much of a distraction. Unable to stop fixating on the afternoon’s events, she ultimately texted Lafayette, not bothering to sugarcoat the accusation.

Lafayette sent: what do you mean? i would never stand someone up

Lafayette sent: i hope you are not accusing me of having ulterior motives. i am a principled man.

Y/N rolled her eyes at that.

Y/N sent: convenient timing for you to decide we needed a second backup gallon of milk

Lafayette sent: i am just trying to keep my houseguest well provided for

Lafayette sent: how ungrateful

Y/N sent: and what, exactly, were you trying to provide today??

Lafayette sent: i have no idea what you are talking about. it was just a gallon of milk.

Lafayette sent: however, in completely unrelated news that has nothing to do with today, you should not ignore it when opportunity knocks

Lafayette sent: or when he rings the doorbell, i suppose

Y/N sent: he let himself in. feels like breaking and entering.

Lafayette sent: even less work for you

Lafayette sent: i try to be helpful when i can

Y/N sent: we have very different ideas of help

Lafayette sent: you don’t have to interpret something as a gift for it to be one

Y/N sent: was the gift the complete lack of pasta you bought to replace mine??

Lafayette sent: i think you know the answer

She did, of course, but his words also had her thinking. Lafayette obviously saw himself as having done her a favor, but really, Y/N had to ask herself: did she see it as a gift? It was an unfortunately nerve-wracking half hour. It was one of only three times she’d ever been alone with him, and the first since Michigan.

Was it really a gift, or had he actually set her a trap?

She threw her phone onto the bed with a huff.