#I’ve been listening to all of them and I’m a little miffed that I’ll have to find something else o

[dark-elf-writes]

So why is just Son of Neptune not available as an audiobook through audible? Like just the second book of a sequel series is region locked? Why???

[peony-pearl]

Zuko mentions to Ursa he would like for his little siblings to come to the Fire Nation to enjoy the summer festival.

By saying ‘siblings’ she knows he’s talking about Chiyo and Katsu - Ozai’s children.

Ursa, Noren and Kiyi have taken residence at the Fire Nation palace for years now, ever since Ursa was discovered on the outskirts of Hira’a. Once Zuko got the information out of Ozai just over ten years ago where his mother had taken up residence, he was escorted there by Aang to reunite with her. Ursa did not hesitate to return to her children once Zuko lifted her banishment, and she was a key figure in Azula’s recovery.

When Ozai broke out of prison, Ursa was a driving force in trying to find him after he threatened Azula’s life. Knowing he was out there, free, for the past decade has haunted her.

And then, just two years ago, Zuko and Azula received news of his whereabouts... and they found him with the help of Aang, Katara and June.

And they let him keep his freedom.

Zuko’s explanation of the events sounded like a bad dream. Ursa listened to her boy, whom Ozai had savagely scarred as a child, defend his decision after seeing Ozai happy out in some Earth Kingdom farm with a new family.

She was speechless. Zuko had left children in the midst of this monster.

Azula was the one who was more critical of her father’s new life. She vented to Ursa about the pain of seeing him so happy with this naive, sheltered woman who decided to stay with Ozai even after learning about his past. Regardless, Azula would eventually begin receiving letters from both the woman, Niwa, and from her younger sister, Chiyo.

And then Zuko dropped the bombshell.

Chiyo was an Airbender.

Ursa spoke to Aang upon his return with Zuko and Azula. He seemed over the moon, to not only learn there was another Airbender in the world, but she was the descendant of one of Aang’s fellow Southern Air Temple residents, and this revelation gave him hope that there could be more Airbenders in waiting out in the world.

And yet, despite all of this... Ursa could only remember the man who who began denying her as a wife when his lust for the crown became stronger; the man who planted the seeds of lies to his daughter of her being a monster, seeds that blossomed into a beautiful, deadly flower. A flower that he ripped out of it’s garden bed and crushed under his boot when she was no longer useful. And Zuko, the son that he turned against and berated and scolded when all he ever did was his best, until the day he finally tried to step into more assertive shoes earned him a permanently damaged eye.

“So...” Zuko begins to speak. “I’ve thought about inviting dad and Niwa and the kids. I’ll make sure he doesn’t come around you, or Noren or Kiyi. But... he’s kept his end of his promise so far. I’ve thought it was only fair to extend a hand back to him.”

Ursa knew the promise: to write to Zuko and Azula, and to maintain a form of communication on a regular basis.

Zuko also regularly received letters from Niwa and Chiyo, and each one ensured truth to Ozai’s words. Even Azula, who often worried that Ozai was telling Chiyo what to write, would read her little sister’s letters that contained questions and thoughts only a seven year old could ask.

Ursa sighs as Zuko makes his case; he stumbles as he sees his mother’s unhappiness. “I-I can have them stay on the other side of the palace,” he says. Azula sits next to Ursa; Aang sits next to her.

Azula squeezes her mother’s hand. “Or we don’t have to invite him.”

Zuko nods, albeit reluctantly, to his sister’s suggestion. Azula becomes miffed.

“Why are you so adamant to see him here?”

“I’m not! I just-”

“You’ve asked every year since we found him if he can visit.”

“That’s only two years, Azula,” Zuko sighs. “Uncle’s been asking about him too.”

“Well, Uncle’s senile,” Azula crossed her arms.

“Azula,” Ursa gently admonished her daughter, who turned her gaze away as she pouted.

Aang touched Azula’s knee, but remained focused on Zuko. “Maybe just invite the kids?”

Zuko shook his head. “Katsu is only two, and to give up her kids so suddenly for a week may not be easy for Niwa.”

Aang grinned at Azula. “It would be good practice though.”

“Get your head out of those clouds; no kids until those vows are said,” Azula smirked.

“You keep declining my engagement!”

“This is a talk for another time,” Azula hissed quietly.

Ursa, having maintained her silence, wrings her hands together. “... Zuko, in the end, you are the Fire Lord. And this is your home.”

Zuko shakes his head. “Yeah, but-”

Ursa holds up her hand. “I admit. I am not keen on seeing him again. Ever again. But... I know this is something you’ve felt strongly about. Ultimately, the decision is yours to make. I simply ask that you inform me of the decision so I can... make arrangements.”

Azula grinned. “Poison arrangements?” She asked, nudging her mother’s ribs. Ursa chuckled.

“If only I could be so lucky.”

“Guys,” Zuko said in exasperation. “Look... I’ll just invite them next y-”

“No, stop it.” Azula rolled her eyes. “Just tell them to come. Spirits, you’re such a downer, Zuzu.”

“Yeah, Zuzu,” Aang echoed his fiancee. Zuko shot him a tired look.

“I agree,” Ursa said. “Invite them. Besides; should anything go wrong, we have you three to keep him in his place; and Kiyi is becoming more proficient in her own bending.”

“Yeah; if he pulled anything we could take him!” Aang agreed.

Ursa could see the look on Zuko’s face though; but still, he nodded and watched as Aang and Azula decided to retire to bed. Ursa lingered, waiting to talk to her son in private.

“Zuko,” she said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “You don’t owe him any-”

“This isn’t about owing him. I know where I stand on what dad did to me; to us.”

“And yet you’re so hopeful to see him again.”

“Is it wrong to hope for a new path? I found mine, mom. Outside of the Fire Nation. Away from him. I found my life, my meaning. And so has he. I saw it. I saw him experience a life he’d become fully invested in. I saw two happy kids; a beautiful home... And...”

“... And?” Ursa asked.

Zuko swallowed.

“... And I was so mad he found it without us. But you know what? I also found my path without Azula. And... she’ll always have that in her mind. But she’s forgiven me.”

“She could not control the struggles you faced.”

“As I couldn’t control hers; and I’ll always have dad’s favoritism to remember. We’ve all been subjected to lives we didn’t want. Dad was one of them. So were you.”

Ursa folded her arms in front of her, looking much like her daughter. Zuko pleaded to her, still not quite over the fact that he was so much taller, and yet he still spoke to her like she towered over him.

“Mom... The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But there’s a part of me that wants to see this through. He’s my father. And I’ve hated him, and part of me still hates him. But after everything I’ve learned... if Aang can forgive me for everything I allowed to happen to him and his friends... if Uncle can forgive me for turning away from him, I want to know I can reciprocate that.”

“You don’t have to forgive him.”

“Mom, I haven’t. I will never forgive him for what he did to me, or Azula, or you. But I feel like I have an obligation, as the Fire Lord, to make sure he’s not causing trouble. I called off the searches once I saw how much he’s changed. Others have done the same for me. Time goes on. He... He looked out for me back when we were looking for Chiyo. I was hurt and he stayed with me.”

Ursa’s eyes widened as Zuko recalled the event to her for the first time.

“When I told him we would find Chiyo he was thankful for me. I... Sometimes I think maybe now... Maybe now I could get to know my dad-”

“Zuko you don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t. But it’s my decision. I respect every bit of advice I get from you but this is something... something I need to do for myself. If Azula never wants to see him again after this, I will never invite him again.”

Ursa reached out to hold her son’s hand.

“And you’re not scared?” She asked. Zuko laughed.

“Mom, I’m terrified.”

Ursa’s face became one of determination.

“Then I will be right here with you.”

“I’m not scared that he’ll hurt me,” Zuko insisted. “Like you said, we can handle him if he were to become a threat.”

Ursa clasped Zuko’s hand tightly with both of hers. “But you’re still scared,” she said. “And I won’t let you be scared alone; not after I missed so many years.”

[randomfoggytiger]

React: "Return to Me" (from the POV of Someone Averse to RomComs, Part VIII): The Perfect 3/4 and Ending

This is it: the finale. HERE WE GO, everyone-- buckle in.

**Note**: I'll edit later~.

Grace apologizes for not telling Bob sooner; and Bob’s just happy that the crisis is averted. 

…But he starts to relax his hold when Grace hands over the letter. 

“I found this in your house. That’s me.” 

Bob blanks. 

“I’m going away tonight so… you won’t be reminded.” 

Bob’s leaning away. 

“I didn’t-- I didn’t know--” followed by profuse apologies. 

Bob starts shutting down. “I gotta go.”

“Okay.”

“I gotta-- I’m sorry, I gotta go.” 

Biggest of oofs, my guy. Understandable completely. But oof. 

“I gotta…” and I can’t understand that part-- “wow” or “walk”? 

There he goessssssss (clutching the letter)… well, compared to a lot of other 3/4 acts, this was pretty nice. I’d even say reasonable, and still sweet. 

Grace takes the bike with her to Rome. Great choice. I’ll bet there’ll be some scenic, heartfelt shots with it. 

Marty won’t get Angelo’s “you gotta run to see if they follow” hint; but he reluctantly lets his granddaughter go, alone, as planned. 

Hugs and kisses. Love this little unit. 

Grandpa doesn’t look up after hugging her-- he’s teary. Aw, man. 

“Yeah,” says Grace to her friend. And that is all. 

Megan-Bonnie understands: there’s still some anger at following her advice, but there’s more love; and, overall, a lot of processing she needs to do. And Minnie/Grace’s ready to go and for Bonnie to take her. 

“Okay.” 

Back to Bob, he's sittin’ and thinkin’ and doing some processin’ of his own. And apparently talking to his late wife, since he keeps looking up and mumbling quietly (which we, the audience can’t hear.)  

His sittin’ and thinkin’ is around his work and the city; Grace’s sittin’ and thinkin’ is surrounded by cheery voices while cornering herself off near flowers. 

He’s running with the dog (Mel) now… she’s painting somewhere now… the music is soft and contemplative and touching. 

I think this was good for both in a way that usual 3/4 marks aren’t or don’t utilize fully: it’s not the “come win me back because of a misunderstanding” chase, it’s the “life’s tough and the rules have shifted; and we both need to figure out if we can handle them before getting back in the game” mature space and deliberation. 

Ahhhhh, the canvas is blank because her dreams are empty and sad so she can’t paint them. Nice pay off, Bonnie Hunt. Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice.  

CHARLIE’S BACK. Bob is torn up and calls his pal, needing to talk to someone. Little voice crack, little sandpaper mouth, uh huh, uh huh. 

At the same time, gossipy but well-meaning waiter sniffs blood in the water and swoops in to listen and give Minnie/Grace someone to vent to.

Lots of “yes”s from Bob and “si”s from Grace ensue.  

Charlie’s face and the old men’s faces:  

That is all. 

Sophie being miffed that Wally didn’t even think to open the door for her-- “What a guy”-- and then INSTANTLY calling him back and running inside because Bob pulled up and shoving Wally aside to get back in was exquisite. 

Bonnie Hunt has such a talent; and I love, love, love her details; with the above, but also Bob’s walk of shame (or trepidation… or both) contrasted to the first two times he dropped in. Hats off to you, Bonnie. 

And I love that all the older folks are so nice, helping lower that last guard of Bob’s to reveal how worn and weary he is. Especially weary that, on top of it all, Grace/Minnie did leave (in part because the dedication to Elizabeth was next week.)  

“Well, I’ve been thinkin’--”

An OUTBURST of support-- if a little TOO much-- from the table. 

They’re the best. 

The group nod along, knowing that the dedication’s next week and of course he has conflicted emotions. 

“I miss Elizabeth,” Bob emphasizes. “I’ll always miss her. But I, uh…” 

Great acting and directing choice, just letting the statement hang there. 

…It’s still hanging there. Still a great choice. 

…Yup, still hangin’. Still a great choice. 

“--I ache for Grace,” Bob concludes, a yawning chasm opening up in the crack of his voice. (Kudos to you, Mr. Duchovny-- clap, clap!) 

Also, “I ache for Grace”: the person, the concept, the metaphor, the etc.s of this situation. Masterful, understated line whoever wrote it. 

The old people let that sit, knowing how loaded and powerful (in the fullest sense) that confession was. 

“And I don’t know if I can… if she can--”

“She CAN!” butts in Sophie, who gets hushed by Grandpa Marty. I love these old fogies so much. (And Angelo’s face saying “every time” about Sophie in the third pic, I’m dying.)  

Bob’s heartened and touched by both gestures. 

Ooh, Marty’s got some words of wisdom. Let’s follow after and hear what he’s got to say. 

Hope it’s not too cheesy because I might just like it too much. 

ANGELO’S PEEPING; and Sophie’s rebuke gives way to her dying curiosity.  

I CACKLED WHEN ANGELO YELLED “HE’S GOT HIM IN A CHOKEHOLD.” He doubled down until even the other two men had their doubts of their doubts and joined him in his transgression. A legend. 

Can I become Angelo when I get to be his age? …Can I be Angelo now???? 

Grandpa Marty giving room for Bob to sort and refigure; but also trusts that his prayers led their two lives together because Grace needed a very special heart. THAT needs to be said with all sincerity and simplicity or it comes across as morbid and reductive. Marty does just that: he’s a simple man who loves his granddaughter, wants her happy; and prizes Bob, doesn’t discount the others' sorrows, and gives loving tribute to the memory of a woman he never met. 

“When she met you, her heart beat truly for the first time. Perhaps it was meant to be with you always.” 

His speech could teeter on cheesy; but he means every word, and Bob believes him. And to quote the movie Bolt: “If he believes it, the audience believes it.” 

There’s that supernatural breeze again. 

Speaking of supernatural, here’s the nuns I’ve heard about only briefly. They ride motorcycles, right? 

Oh, they love her bike. 

“Oh, no. Oh, no,” protests the nun while getting on the bike. Amazing. 

Bob the Bike Boy is here-- ahhhhh, this is how he finds Minnie/Grace, got it. Mhm. 

I was right. Cha ching (or in this case: *ching ching*.) Perfect. 

There he goes! 

I endorse this “escorting a nun” business. I like it, I like it A LOT. 

Also: Bob tucks his head back as he approaches to better surprise Grace: 

“Tu amor?” the nun guesses. 

More like “Tu… *insert the Italian word for shocked*.” 

“Si.” (Bringing back that exchange with the Italian waiter from earlier, nice touch for the 1000th time.) 

Bob’s bashfully grinning. The nun’s full-on grinning. Grace’s grinning; and, overwhelmed, she starts tearing up. 

“You came all the way to Italy?” 

A little tilt then head nod: “I did.” (Look at that nun in the corner. Look at BOTH of them.) “I came all the way to Italy.” 

A nice reunion hug. 

…I know where this is leading and I don’t know if I’m ready but HERE WE GO, FOLKS. 

‘Kay, cradling the face-- a signature DD move. ‘Kay, staring into the eyes with a wistful, soulful smile, mhm-- classic Duchovny move, classic. And--

Oh! We get an “I love you, Grace.” Nice little bonus.  

Aaaaaaaaaaaand there it is: we get a heartbeat check. But it’s done so tenderly without fuss or drama that it stands for itself. 

(The nuns are STILL there. You go, girls.) 

Dedication time! 

FENNINGTON IS THE MONKEY HOUSE PORTRAIT GUY. I kneeeeew it (though I had my doubts. But let it never be said I don’t know somethings.) We’re also not here to talk about his sizeable donations through the years, no no of course not. 

Bob has a speech? Okay, Bob has a speech! (I’ve never been someone who likes movie speeches, I’m dying.) 

BONNIE/MEGAN AND JOE AND THE KIDS BLESS YOU FOR BEING HERE YOU SAVED ME. 

And Charlie got a whoop from the audience members we care about, whoo!

Also: the golf claps are killing me... It’s so awkward, and it always takes away from the authenticity of the speaker’s words. BUT it’s true to life; and we-- meaning I-- persevere. 

THERE’S A WEDDING?? I like weddings, let’s go. 

Wait. 

Bonnie. 

You got me. I love the fake out even more. 

The last we see of Bob and Grace are them boppin’ to tunes in the Irish-Italian restaurant (and Bonnie/Megan checking in briefly before Joe sweeps her up as well) with his signature swing-out-then-in move. 

(CHARLIE HAS A KID NOW?????)

And a happy little fade-to-black. 

Well done, 90s romcom! You did good.

Thank you for taking this winding, rambly journey with me-- it was a ton of fun, and I hope you had fun, too~.

Enjoy!

[dmwrites]

The Tree of Whimsy stood tall and proud in the surrounding forest of birch trees. Scar, a tree connoisseur, had finally found some time to come see it, and was delighted.

“Amazing! I mean, it’s not as good as my tree, but it’s a close second.” Scar gave Bdubs a winning smile and a wink.

“Ha ha. Very funny, elf man.” Bdubs chuckled. He was back from one of his long treks across the lands, looking for places for his puzzles, and had found Scar just standing at the base of the Tree of Whimsy. “So, what are you doing here anyway? Looking for inspiration?”

“Oh, no, little man, don’t you worry, I’m not here to plagiarize.” Scar reached out and touched the bark of the tree. “I was just curious about it, is all. Seems to have popped up out of nowhere. Very mysterious, you have to admit.”

“First of all, I’m not short I’m average height. Second of all, uh yeah, it’s a magical tree, whimsy and all that. Listen, I just do what I’m told, and I was told to plant a seed. You know, I’ve never told anyone, but I have a lot of questions about it all. I found a secret room under my house, and I have to wonder if it was the right choice to plant this tree. It haunts me.”

“You know what I wonder?” Scar, ignoring Bdubs completely, mused. “You see, I have an elven bed that makes you sleepy just by looking at it. I can’t tell you the amount of times I have stumbled upon someone who had been looking for me fast asleep on that bed. I’m wondering what would happen if you put the bed under this tree you have here. Clearly, they’re both full of mystical powers. It’s science, mashing two magical items together.”

“Maybe you’re just tired all the time from constantly building and being annoying, you ever consider that?” Bdubs, a bit miffed that Scar wasn’t listening to him.

“I think we need to test this. I’ll go get the bed and reconstruct it here.” Scar, not listening to him, went off to fetch the bed.

——

Scar wasn’t wrong though- Bdubs couldn’t stand to look at the bed while Scar constructed it or he would feel immense tiredness wash over him like a wave. He even had to go wake Scar up a few times while building it, with a hand over his eyes for safety.

“It’s just so comfy cozy, don’t you just wanna…” Scar let out a huge yawn. He nailed in a few more bits, and then it was done. “Oh, and look at that! Just in time for sunset! Come on, Bdubs, time for sleepy time!”

“What?” Bdubs turned around, holding out a hand to block the bed from his view. “I am not getting into bed with you!”

“Oh, come on.” Scar was already climbing onto the cozy mattress. “Don’t be such a prude. You’ll be asleep in like three seconds.”

The bed was calling to him. Oh, the king of sleep, how could he refuse such a comfy looking bed? He sighed and clambered in next to Scar. “If anyone sees us from the sky, we’ll be the laughing stock of the town for months.” His eyes were already fluttering closed.

“Two bros, chillin’ on a big bed, five feet apart-” Scar began to sing, but they both fell asleep before he could finish.

There is something to be said about the tree of whimsey, the way it whispers in the wind. And it’s something else to have Scar’s bed under it, built from a cursed wood. The hermits like to play with forces bigger then themselves, over and over until one of them breaks. Little fucked up experiments that make you wonder just how they have kept their minds over the years.

Bdubs dreamed of the tree. It was made of tiny intricate mazes and puzzles, and it leered over him. He dreamed of moss, soft to the touch, and yet the tree almost doubled to grab at him. He dreamed of a wooden throne, one that was made of the tree and had every limb tied down to it. But he was king. And the little ants played his games. But they weren’t really his games.

Scar dreamed of something just out of reach. It was in the mist, and he could hear it, hear the screams he hoped were happy, the thunder of the ride tracks. He could almost smell the perfume of the trees and flowers, and the laughter of his friends. If only he could see the joy. But he couldn’t, and something inside him told him he never would.

The two woke in the morning as the sun rose. xB was standing over them, communicator out, taking a picture.

“I’m sending this to the hermit groupchat. You can’t stop me.” xB told them with a wicked grin, and took off.

“Damn him.” Bdubs muttered, getting out of the bed, taking off his sleeping cap and running his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. He always had the worst bed head.

Scar yawned and stretched, looking as perfect and put together as when he went to sleep. Not a single hair was out of place.

“How did you sleep?” Bdubs asked, sitting down on a bench facing away from the bed.

“Good, good, how about you?” Scar wheeled himself over.

“Good… any, uh, stuff happen?” Bdubs picked at a fingernail.

“Nope.” Scar was lying.

“Same here.” Bdubs was also lying.

They both knew the other was lying. But the uneasy feelings they both had were too dark to express out loud. Their dreams clung to them like some kind of muddy pond water, something that can’t be cleaned out or forgotten about.

[spiderling-space]

This idea is inspired by @zozobegone ‘s this post 

Setting: Grim goes platonic yandere mode when he realizes MC is going to go back to their world

It is written from Grimm's perspective

Italics indicate thoughts

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

The Great Grimm

Warning: Unhealthy dependency and friendship

"Henchperson, give me those candies!" Grimm ordered (Y/N) after trying so many times to reach the top shelf.

"Aw, you couldn't reach yourself?" (Y/N) had seen Grimm jumping and trying to climb to take the candies. They didn't do anything but watch him fail for the last 10 minutes, they couldn't help themselves as he was being so cute. "What's the magic word?"

After grumbling a little, Grimm spoke coercively, "Please..."

"That's a good boy!" They patted him on the head before grabbing the candies and giving them to him. 

He started devouring them the moment he got his hand on the candies. He thanked them quickly before focusing entirely on his food. They were just so delicious, he couldn't resist it!

"Honestly Grimm, what will you do once I'm gone?" They sighed as they took a seat in the kitchen.

The words didn't register for Grimm at first. "Eh?" He stopped eating for a moment and looked at them. "What nonsense are you babbling about?"

"Hmm? Oh! Well, you know, it's been months and lots of progress have been done. Crowley finding a way for me to return home is right around the corner." They spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That birdman doesn't do anything but whine and pin all the tasks on us."

"I convinced him to do the actual work and he made a progress on finding a way for me to go home." (Y/N) stood up, walking toward him and kneeling to his height. "I'll give you a secret, I haven't told anyone this." They gulped before smiling, "Crowley found the way for me to go back. We just need ingredients and get some tests done then I'll be able to go back. I haven't told others about it yet because I wanted to have something concrete but since you are like my second family, I wanted you to know first."

Huh, he thought.

Grimm continued eating, ignoring what (Y/N) had said who got up and left the kitchen after sharing their secret. At that moment, it didn't bug him at all since he thought they were joking.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

It didn't even pass a week that (Y/N) started to tell the others that they would be leaving soon and ask their help to get the ingredients and spend their last days together. Meanwhile, Grimm became more and more irritable as the days passed by.

Grimm didn't have a family nor a friend. When he opened his eyes to the world, he was in a back alley by just himself. He fended for himself and decided to become the greatest magician when he heard people talking about Night Raven Collage. He didn't have anyone who supported his dream nor he needed one. He would accomplish it on his own and show everyone how great he was. Of course, things didn't go as planned and he got thrown off the moment he revealed his true self at the entrance ceremony and was even threatened to get eaten. What's worse was that when he returned to NRC, showing the persistence of an NRC student, he was about to be thrown again. That would be the case if it weren't for (Y/N) sticking up for him. He wasn't a sentimental monster and he hated to be called cat by (Y/N) despite his catly activities as they called it. However, deep down he knew it was because of (Y/N) that he became a student in the NRC, getting one step closer to achieving his dream. Heck, he and (Y/N) were considered one student together.

It wasn't just (Y/N) creating him an opportunity that made him care about them, it was everything. They studied together; they slept on the same bed, shared meals and snacks, played games, did homework, complained about the school and students together. Not to mention, how much he enjoyed getting petted, belly rubbed and washed by them. They had each other when no one was around and always stood against overblot student together. In Grimm's eyes, they were an inseparable and astonishing duo; even a family he never had, not that he would say it out loud.

Maybe that was why he was miffed by everything that was going on... What would happen to me if (Y/N) were to go back? Become alone again? Get kicked out of NRC? Have no friends and family? No, that's not going to happen!

As the days passed, the attention he got from (Y/N) diminished gradually, came to a point that he only saw them in classes and when they got back. They were out with another person every day, not sparing enough time for the Great Grimm. 

How dare they, he thought while heatedly huffing and puffing on the couch.

Grimm dearly missed the old times when (Y/N) wasn't obsessed with going back. He didn't even receive enough petting last few days nor they studied together. His mind wandered to their time spent together when he noticed something. (Y/N) would leave everything behind regardless of how important it was when he got into serious trouble or got hurt. They would sweep in to save his neck. It just clicked at that moment. 

He would get into trouble or injured to get their attention on him. However, then the other minions would gather around them too and their attention would be divided. It was not something he wanted. An idea struck in his head after a few minutes of thinking. As expected out of the Great Grimm, it was a brilliant plan.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

"Oh my goodness, Grimm! What happened to your paw-paw?!" (Y/N) rushed to his side, kneeling and examining his paw.

Grimm grumbled acting as if he didn't want to tell them. "Nothing, Great Grimm is fine!"

"Don't be ridiculous! It looks broken!" The worry on (Y/N)'s face was gratifying since he got their attention back.

"Ask your best friends," He answered with faux melancholy, withdrawing his paw near his chest and turning back as if he would leave.

"What does that supposed to mean?" They asked, confussion evident on their face just like Grimm wanted.

"Azul tricked them into doing his work and asked them to collect all the feathers on the roof. Ace and Deuce took me with them then we got into a fight and I fell off the roof." He lowered his head for extra effect.

"And they didn't even take you to the infirmary?!" He managed to get them riled up.

"It was my fault th-"

"That's not an excuse! For fuck's sake! C'mon, we are going to the infirmary." (Y/N) wrapped their arms around Grimm and lifted him en route to the hospital wing.

"Hey (Y/N)! Do you -"

"I can't believe what you two did!"

"What we did?" Deuce mumbled, fearing their wrath.

"Don't talk to me for some time and at least take responsibility and apologize!" (Y/N) stormed off before Ace could finish his sentence. Both Ace and Deuce look perplexed as (Y/N) marched away. Grimm was looking at them over (Y/N)'s shoulder, taking in their puzzled looks and flashing a grin as (Y/N) walked away.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

For the next two weeks, Grimm continues with his plan.

"I swallowed a lot of soapy water." Grimm said as he was rubbing his belly, it genuinely hurt. Swallowing soapy water was more awful than hurting his paw.

"Azul! You promised to not do this and shame on you Jade, Floyd!"

3 more down, plenty to go...

"Leona, have you seen Grimm? He is way smaller than you! How couldn't you realize what your claws would do on Grimm?"

"Ruggie, Grimm got food poisoning because of you! You could have just stolen his food instead of replacing them with expired ones."

"Jack, I've never expected this from you. I'm very disappointed."

"What? What are you talking about?" Jack asked hastily but it fell on deaf ears as (Y/N) didn't even listen to him, grabbing Grimm and leaving them standing.

Woo hoo! My plan is working fantastically! 

"He could have died Kalim if it were higher!"

"Jamil, I thought you would stop making people poison taste. Grimm has been puking all day long because of you!"

Grimm grinned wickedly as he was once again carried by (Y/N).

Wait until I'm done with all of you! HAHA, You cannot defeat me!

Grimm was thinking of new original ways to distance (Y/N) from the rest of Heartslabyul, Pomefiore, Ignihyde and Diasomnia. The last one would be the hardest as he had a powerful competitor who also sought (Y/N)'s attention but it didn't matter, Grim would be the only one!

That was what he thought until Birdman came bearing the news...

"(Y/N)! Good news! All the tests we did on the mirror worked! You can go back now!"

Everything stopped right there and then. 

Grimm was so focused on getting (Y/N)'s affection and attention that he forgot about the tests they were doing on the mirror.

Now I am too late...

"My goodness! Thank you! I missed my home so much! I'll start saying my goodbyes!" (Y/N) spoke rapidly, they truly were happy to hear the news.

Happy to leave me all alone!

"No worries, they all gather around the magic mirror, waiting for you." Birdman informed, "Are you coming now?"

"Yes!" (Y/N) said before turning to him, taking him in arms and carrying him outside.

That is not how it was supposed to go...

As they were walking outside before leaving the Ramshackle perimeter, Grimm jumped on the ground.

"What's wrong?" (Y/N) stopped to ask.

"What's wrong?!" Grimm couldn't contain it anymore. everything was too much.

"(Y/N), do you need a moment to say goodbye to the dorm?" Birdman questioned, getting closer to where they were standing.

"Uhm... yes... I mean I spent months here so I should say goodbye to it. You can go, we will catch up in a moment."

With that Birdman walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Grimm alone.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" They asked idiotically. 

Are they too dumb to understand?

As Grimm was about to tell them what was on his mind, unfiltered, he felt a power within himself. A power that wanted to surge out of him and he let it since he had nothing to lose anymore.

"You will leave me all alone!"

"But you already knew that, Grimm. This place isn't my home and if I took you with me, you would be discovered and people would do experiments on you." Their voice was so soft as they tried to reason with him but none of them mattered.

"We are one student together, you can't leave until I graduate!" The power inside of him grew even more.

"Well, Crowley said he-"

"We fought the monsters together. We are a team, you called me your son!" He could feel that power getting closer

"I-" He wasn't going to let them speak anymore!

"So you see me as a family but you abandon me!" He felt the power leak outside and he didn't even care about it.

"GRIMM!" (Y/N) yelled, taking a few steps back. "I, I, I changed my mind, we will be together!"

"You want me to have no one again!" Grim screamed, not even noticing how his voice changed. "AAAAAHHH!"

Everything went black for a moment and the second he reopened his eyes, everything was different. He was no longer looking up to (Y/N); he now was looking down on them. They were so tiny.

"YOU CANNOT LEAVE!" Grimm screeched when he saw (Y/N) backing and running away. He jumped, landing right in front of them who fell on the ground from the shock and still trying to crawl away.

"G-Gr-Gr-Grim, i-i-it's me! We are friends, remember? I know you wouldn't hurt me because we are family, innit?"

"It is too late for everything but you are right. We are family..." Grimm said, his voice echoing, giving it more menacing feelings. 

Grimm was no longer waiting for (Y/N) to understand that they couldn't leave him. He had no intention of waiting anymore. He leaned towards them slowly, biting their clothing and lifting them.

It was always (Y/N) who carried Grimm around relentlessly now it was Grimm's turn. Once he was sure that they wouldn't fall, he took off, running away from the Ramshackle, leaving NRC behind.

[syms-things-5]

Case Histories - Chapter Seven

An AU Andy Barber fic (based upon BBC’s ‘The Split)

Previous Chapter Here / Masterlist Here

Chapter Warnings: Strong language, not NSFW but something happens, angst

CHAPTER SEVEN

Another week, another fresh start. That’s how Grace had learned to look at the days on the calendar. Ever since her mother had passed away suddenly years earlier, she had found it was easier to cope if she divided her time into separate, more manageable chunks. It felt more controllable back then when she was grappling with grief and her degree and what was left of her splintering family.

The Counsellor that her supervisor at Boston University had arranged for her to visit as part of a scheme they had in place for students wasn’t a massive emotional help, she found, but the practical advice was something she took on board. She continued to use most of it to this day. She always found real-world solutions easier to get her head around. The rest of the stuff? Not so much. Thoughts and feelings she could happily avoid until the cows came home. 

So, if she had a bad week, if she was feeling stressed and tired, she knew she could ultimately choose to write it off and start the next one afresh without the pressure from anything that might have preceded it. What might be an issue on one day, shouldn’t be an issue the next, she would tell herself.

“Hey,” Andy leans casually into her office doorway. “Jack wants a word in five minutes. It’s with everyone.” 

Grace immediately checks the watch on her wrist. “Right. OK.” 

She continues to type furiously on her keyboard, faster than he thinks he has ever seen somebody type before. He lingers a second longer before stepping fully inside her office. 

“You, er, didn’t reply to any of my messages.” He says quietly, careful that no one outside in the hallway could hear him. 

She continues typing away, avoiding his eye contact, but he knew she had heard him. 

“I’ve just been busy is all.” She answers back equally as quiet. 

“Sure.” He nods, unconvinced. 

When he realises she isn’t going to give him anything else to work with, he half-heartedly turns to walk out of her office. 

“It’s just in the boardroom when you’re ready.” 

Then he’s gone and she can feel herself breathe easy again. 

The meeting wasn’t for anything important, which left Grace feeling a little miffed. Instead, while pretending to listen, she made mental notes for a couple of emails that had been backing up since the day before. Jack just liked to check in with the team from one week to the next even if there was nothing of note to pass on. It was the easiest way of keeping tabs on everyone and their case load, and perhaps reassign resources if he got the impression something wasn’t working out the way he would like it to. 

Much to Andy’s frustration, Grace chose to sit a few seats down from him at the table, not making any effort to register him as she walked behind the back of his chair. She knew it likely came across as childish but she didn’t really care much in that moment. She just needed the distance, both physically and emotionally, and one usually aided the other. 

“Has that file arrived from Court by any chance?” Grace asked Lydia, finally on the way back to her office. 

“No, not yet.” Lydia replied apologetically. “I chased it with Alex first thing but apparently they’re dealing with a hefty backlog at the moment.” 

“What file?” Andy interrupts as he sides up to them both at the reception desk. 

“Oh, it’s just an old testimony for the Roberts case. Jack recommended I dig it out. Said he had a memory of his ex-wife making a similar accusation from years back.” Grace explained. 

“Oh, yeh, that’s a good idea.” He agrees. “Is it urgent? We can always head down there this afternoon? I know someone else there who could help.” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” Grace waves him off. “I’ve got a couple of other avenues to try first so it’s not an issue if I don’t get it today.” 

“I’ll make sure they deliver it as soon as possible, Grace. I’m so sorry.” Lydia adds. 

“Don’t worry about it. I appreciate you trying.” Grace says, smiling as she backs away from the desk and the both of them. 

“If it arrives later on, shall I redirect it to the Marriott for you?” 

She turns back to face them again, glancing alternately between Lydia and Andy and catching Andy’s slightly perplexed expression in the process. 

“I…yes, please, that would be a big help actually. Thank you.” She turns again to walk the last few steps into her office and closes the door behind her. 

The Marriott wasn’t the fanciest hotel in town but it was still well-regarded. It was connected to a swanky cocktail bar and a restaurant that was owned in partnership with some minor celebrity chef Grace had never heard of before. More importantly, though, it had availability at short notice and that was Grace’s only requirement when googling for hotel rooms earlier that morning. 

After checking herself in and thanking the concierge for bringing her overnight bag to the suite, she was already one glass of wine down and half her way through a second, much larger one. 

She had toed off her shoes and socks and enjoyed the soothing feel of the soft, teal carpet underneath her toes. She had set up her laptop to continue some work that she had left incomplete while trying to make a quick getaway from the office, and was now considering running the deepest bubble bath she could manage while enjoying what was left of the bottle currently eyeing her from the room’s mini bar. 

The view was beautiful, all of Boston lit up and glowing beneath her. Why would you live anywhere else? She certainly had never considered it and thankfully neither had Dan when they had decided all those years ago to remain in the city and raise their new family. 

As she looked across the skyline, she could just make out the small red-brick in the middle distance, a six-floor nondescript block that she and Dan had first moved into when Olivia was barely weeks old. She remembered it feeling really cramped and one of the neighbours constantly complaining about their crying baby but nevertheless she kept a loving sense of affection for the place. Even more so as she regarded the high rises that had been slowly caging it in in the years since they had moved further out of the centre. 

The telephone in her room rings a moment later, shaking her from her reverie.

“Good evening, Mrs Atherton. We have a message waiting for you at the front desk.” Came a polite voice on the other end of the line. 

Confused, she hangs up. She puts her shoes back on and ventures out of the warmth of her room into the rather chilly hallway. As the lift descended to the ground floor, she wondered what was awaiting her at the bottom and dearly hoped it was nothing more complicated than the case files she had requested. She had no more room in her brain for anything other than work right now. Gnawing proof that, yet again, Dan had perhaps been right all along. 

She moved through the quiet lobby and appeared in front of the desk and the sharp-dressed man who looked like he could be an extra on Mad Men. 

“He’s just in the bar.” He said, politely directing Grace to the ornate double doors on the other side of the open space. 

She glances around but she can’t immediately recognise anyone or anything that might be waiting for her. 

“I’m sorry, who is waiting?” She asks, aware that she is coming across as slightly moronic in apparently not getting the obvious thing he was trying hard to make obvious. It was beyond her at this point. 

“I’m sorry, he didn’t give a name. Just said to tell you there was a message he needed to give to you.” He smiles and she knows she won’t get anything else that’s useful from him. 

She nodded her thanks to him even though she didn’t really mean it and walked towards the bar’s reception. The lady on the door seemed to be expecting her and simply waves her straight through without taking her name or room number first. 

She wasn’t one for surprises, never had been even as a child, so she’d need to be careful not to come across as indignant when she finally finds the person waiting for her. 

Looking around for a second to find a face she might recognise, she sighs when she’s greeted by a smiling Andy making himself comfortable at a small table in the corner. Of course. He holds a glass up to her and she sees the same thing in front of him, only half drunk. 

“Seriously? You couldn’t have just given your damn name?” She says not making any effort to hide her irritation as she approaches his table. The whole bar is quiet save for a couple trying to enjoy a romantic evening and another man, likely on business, reading the financials. “I was fine in my room.” 

The place smells faintly of rose and incense and the lights are far too low for this time of the evening. It was still early, right? She had lost all track of time since she had arrived. 

“It’s amazing what 20 bucks can get you these days.” He jokes, rather smugly. “Plus, I didn’t want you to have another reason to avoid speaking to me. I’m not stupid, Gracie.” 

“Listen, I have a lot of work I need to get through so I really can’t-” 

“-Just sit down for a minute, OK?” He interrupts before she finds another excuse to avoid him. He isn’t averse to pleading if he absolutely has to. “Have a drink with me. Please?” 

She warily regards the glass he is holding up towards her, enticing her with a warm hint of smoky whisky. It was likely the best one in a bar that has about a hundred different varieties and they were just the ones currently on show. 

“Why are you being so friendly all of a sudden?” she asks. 

“What are you talking about, I’m always friendly.” He huffs a laugh at her take on the drink he is holding out to her but pauses when she makes no effort to take it from his hand. “We’re still friends, aren’t we? At least I would hope so.”

He at least looked sincere, and she decides she doesn’t have the energy to argue with him. She yields and sits down on the plush black velvet armchair on the other side of the table across from him. He mouths a gracious ‘thank you’ before taking a sip of his drink. She sips her own and can’t pretend it doesn’t feel consoling in some small way. 

“I’ve had two glasses of wine already so this can only be the one drink.” 

“Wow, that bad, huh?” He teases. “Jack’s working you too hard.” 

She toys with the glass in her hands and takes a slow breath to try and calm her nerves. Jazz music plays out lowly from the speakers hiding somewhere in the background and she suddenly feels like a cliché. 

“She’s called Amanda.” He starts, when no one speaks for a minute. “We’ve known each other a little while, sort of seeing each other on and off until last year. I guess I was feeling some type of way after…the other night, so I called her up and she came over.” 

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.” 

“But I want to. It wasn’t anything…serious. After you left, I asked her to go and she did, so.” He tried to find the words. “Nothing happened. I just needed you to know that.” 

He stares his glass down. He had come straight from work, his tie loosened around his collar and his hair looking like he’d ran his hands through it several times so it lost some of its usual rigidity. Rarely did he let anyone see him look anything less than professional and for the first time since she could remember, he looked more than a little tired. She felt partly responsible and that realisation made her feel bad. 

She swallowed down another sip of her drink. 

“Is she into yoga?” 

“Huh?” 

“Amanda. She looks like she keeps herself trim.” 

“I…don’t know actually. Probably. I’ve never asked.” 

Grace grins to herself and he tilts his head at her in mock-annoyance. 

“What? What did I say?” He asks. 

“Nothing.” She chuckles to herself. “So, you have a thing for blondes, then.” 

He sucks in a deep breath as he thinks about his answer to that. Nothing he can say will likely work and she’ll probably have a cutting jab for him regardless. 

“In my personal experience, they’re not as complicated as brunettes.” 

She purses her lips and he thinks he can spy something akin to understanding on her face. 

“But they’re also only half the fun.” He regards her again but she gives nothing back. “So, now that I’ve been honest, it’s your turn. You want to tell me what you’re doing here?” 

She turns the glass in her hands again. Not really, she thinks to herself, but he’s here and he’s trying and she’s had a bit too much to drink already so any conversation would sound like a good idea right about now. She sort of did want to talk about it but also didn’t at the same time, if that made any sense.

“It’s a long story,” she settles for a benign answer. 

“Try me.” 

He doesn’t look away from her. He has a kind of intense stare, one that looks like he could either become your best friend or uncover the darkest secret you have, that makes him such a formidable lawyer. And human being. 

“We’re just having a night apart, that’s all. It’s nothing big.” 

Andy nods and looks down at his glass. “I’m sorry, Gracie. I didn’t mean to cause you any problems.” 

“Don’t be.” She tries to shake it off. “It’s nothing to do with you. I just had a lot of stuff on with this Roberts thing and I thought a night away would help me concentrate better, so…” 

She shrugs and for the second time that day, he doesn’t quite believe her. 

“Is it helping? Being away?” 

She can’t in all good conscience answer him entirely truthfully. 

“What about the kids?” He asks again, looking to change the subject slightly in the hope that she might open up to him a little more. He meant it after all; he wanted to be her friend if she’d let him. 

“Liv’s at her friend’s birthday sleepover tonight and Sam is at home with Dan. Hopefully doing his homework but there’s also a baseball game on so, I guess we’ll have to see about that tomorrow.” 

Each passing second feels a little bit lighter on them both. Deep down, she’s appreciative that he’s come to visit her. She finds something about him more comforting than she’d like to admit. Hopefully, clearing the air will be one less thing she has to worry about in the morning. 

“I like Sam.” He grins and she just laughs. “He’s a cute kid. Star Wars and Baseball, right? What else do you need in life?” 

“I’d settle for a basic interest in his school work for one thing.” 

“Ah, he’ll be fine.” 

“Tell that to me when they’re grown up and in therapy.” 

“I’m being serious! They’re great kids. They have you as a mom. Everything that you do for them, to give them what they want, I’m sure they appreciate that. They can tell their friends their mom is a hotshot lawyer in Boston and that’s fucking awesome in any language.” He enthuses. 

“Yeh, well, money and a decent career aren’t enough to mask the feeling of being messed up by your parents.” She murmurs, sorrowfully, before registering who she is sat in front of and immediately regrets being so candid. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all of this.” 

“It’s why I’m here. I meant it when I said we’re still friends, right? You can talk to me, Gracie.” He leans forward in his chair. “He didn’t want you to take this job, did he?” 

She breathes in sharply almost like she’s about to start being defensive but nothing seems to comes out. 

“That’s not…” She sighs, defeated, giving up before she can think of an appropriate defence. 

The couple sat a few tables over from her and Andy start laughing at something one of them has on their phone. The man reaches his arm around the lady. 

“It’s not that,” She starts again, turning her attention back to him, rethinking her angle. “It’s just been a big change for us, is all, what with the job and everything.” 

“It’s a great opportunity Gracie. You shouldn’t feel guilty for taking it.” 

“It’s hard, though. It’s hard to explain.” She speaks carefully. “When we’ve been the same for years and it’s been comfortable and we’ve managed, any change, big or small, is going to be something we have to work at to get the balance and the routine back again.” 

“But this is also what you’ve wanted for a long time. I remember you saying you wouldn’t be happy unless you were at one of the Big Three.” Andy states causing her to feel flustered with his argument because, obviously, he’s spot on.

“Yesss,” she concedes. “But that was a long time ago.” 

“That’s irrelevant.” He shrugs. “You hate routine, you always have. If I was you, I’d do exactly the same thing and grab this with both hands. God knows, you’ve fuckin’ earned it.” 

“It’s easy to say that when you’re not married and you don’t have kids.” 

He flinches at her tone. Not for any reason linked to disappointment or regret at not having either of those things but more because he recognises the constraints that she’s been under for the last few years of her life. He doesn’t have to ask for anyone’s permission to do anything and he can’t conceive giving up that freedom for, well, anything. 

Almost anything, perhaps. 

“So, what are you going to do about it?” he asks. 

She looks at him relatively blankly then looks down at the glass in her hands. She shakes her head. 

“I don’t know, honestly.” She takes a deep breath. “It’s never really felt like I’ve been doing the thing I was supposed to do, y’know? Like, why would I put myself through the agony of Law School and all of the debt if I wasn’t going to hope to work for a company like Rothmans at the end of it?” 

“There’s your answer, then” 

“Yeh, but…I guess it would just be easier if Dan felt it was the same thing for him as well. That maybe he wanted it, too, in some way.” She shrugs half-heartedly. 

Andy motions to the barman to indicate another round even though she hasn’t finished the current drink yet. She was feeling too maudlin to reject it, though. Might as well carry on as she had started. 

“I’m just sick of always having to feel guilty about doing something for myself. And it’s not even like it’s solely for me either. I’m not being selfish, ‘cos it benefits him as well, right? Or at least I thought it did.” 

“When did you think it changed?” He asks. “That he decided everything was just fine as it was?” 

“I think being parents was a big part of it, and I get that. I mean, we were 21 when we had Liv,” she says. “And I would never in a million years regret that. It wasn’t the best timing, for either of us, but we both knew we wanted this and we were so happy when she arrived.” 

She smiles fondly at the wonderful memory of the midwife handing her their tiny child and the feeling of nothing but love filling her and making her whole for the first time in a long time. Nothing had ever made her feel like that. It was matched only when Sam arrived five years later. 

“I promised her as I held her for the first time that I would do whatever I could to give her the life I didn’t have. I know it’s taken me long enough but I finally feel like I’m doing that. For all of us.” 

“Then you definitely shouldn’t feel guilty for that. Not at all.” He encourages her gently. “The way I see it, you work for a few years, you make a name for yourself here, and you can do whatever the fuck you want to. You call the shots. You can have whatever you want. That’s what you worked hard for. Trust me, Gracie, it is that easy when you have a firm like Rothmans on your CV, and Dan is a fucking idiot if he can’t see that for himself.” 

She isn’t sure how to take that. She feels strangely grateful for the boost although it’s not ideal under the circumstances. It’s always easy to have an opinion on someone else’s life when you didn’t have to live it yourself. 

“That’s easy for you to say.” She chuckles trying to lighten the mood a little, aware she’s poured something out to him she hadn’t intended to and perhaps put thoughts in his head that weren’t entirely accurate. “You always knew where you wanted to be. You got your Masters; you got the job offers and the acclaim. I mean, did you know how famous you were when you left Uni? Everyone was practically in awe of you, knowing they’d be able to say that they knew you back before you were the Andrew Barber.” 

She held her hands up for emphasis and he laughs heartily. 

“You weren’t in awe of me, though, right?” He asks. “As I remember it, there was definitely some contempt in my seminars.” 

“Oh, that’s harsh,” she objects. “It wasn’t anything like contempt. You just seemed like you wanted to show off from time to time and that got me. Yeh, I admit I found it annoying buuut…I knew you were a good guy, deep down. You were really intelligent and passionate and always thoughtful about what you were doing. I even enjoyed some of your classes when you weren’t trying to put on an act or flirt with the other students.” 

“That wasn’t flirting.” He smiles. “You knew when I was flirting.” 

He watches as she blushes ever so slightly and his heart feels a bit lighter. She swirls the last of her drink around in her glass, the ice cube clinking at the sides.

“Besides, if I was genuinely interested, I would have just told them their essay needed better citations.” He smirks at her over the rim of his glass as he watches the sudden realisation dawn on her. 

“I fuckin’ knew there was nothing wrong with that paper.” She says, mildly affronted before she starts laughing again. She balls the napkin up in her hand before flinging it weakly across the table towards him. 

He dodges it. “How else was I going to get you to talk to me?” 

“Son of bitch.” She shook her head but she wasn’t angry at him, not really. “That mark stayed on my record, you know that, right? That pissed me off for years.” 

“Oh, stop it. You did alright in the end, Miss Valedictorian.” He says and then nods slowly when she seems surprised that he knew that little known fact. “Besides, I couldn’t think of anything else that might have worked. You were always kind of…aloof, y’know? I always got the feeling that it would take a lot to impress you.” 

“I bet I soon proved you wrong, though.” 

“No, not at all.” He chuckles. “Actually, I realised that I didn’t need to impress you at all, at least not with grand gestures or anything like that. I think that’s what made me like you so much in the first place, that you were genuine and normal. I think you just liked me for me. I never really had that before.” 

There’s a comfortable silence as they regard each other fondly. There was a lot being said without any words coming from either of them. It was like they were seeing some of their most important aspects of their history in the other person’s face. Like they were on the same page. 

“I did like you, Andy.” She offers after a beat. “It was just bad timing.” 

“Yeh.” He says, knowingly. “It’s funny to say but I don’t think of the work when I think of my time at BU. I just have these memories of you and…the times we were together. You’re a beautiful memory, Gracie. I don’t really have many of those.” 

He watches her as she looks down at her lap, possibly avoiding him. She tugs gently at her hoop earring and wraps her hand around the back of her neck when she can’t think of anything else to do, leaning her arm on the armrest in the process until she feels comfortable again. 

“…And I did love you.” He says quietly, deliberately, so she can’t misunderstand him. “I know I never said it at the time or when it mattered and it likely won’t mean anything now, but I mean it.” 

“It’s all water under the bridge.” She responds, equally as quiet. 

“Is it?” He asks with purpose. “Because I can’t shake the feeling that it’s like no time has passed at all. There’s so much about you now that is still the same as when I knew you all those years ago. The same passion, the same moral sense of duty, the same…smile. You’re still Gracie Thompson.” 

“Atherton. It’s Atherton, Andy.” 

“Some things don’t change, Gracie.” He says warmly in a tone she recognises but wishes she didn’t. “Like how I feel about you.” 

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, suddenly aware of where she is. She wonders if anyone around them is listening right now and judging her. Judging her for having this conversation with a man who evidently wasn’t her husband.

“I try not to regret things, it always seems like a waste of energy, but…” He says, thoughtfully, before that burning intensity in his eyes returns and she unexpectedly feels exposed in front of him. “I hate that I never told you how sorry I was. For everything. I hate that I just left when you needed me. I know I can never take that back, but-” 

“-Andy, don’t-” 

“-I’m just so sorry, Gracie. I wish I could go back and be there for you. When you asked for me to come and I didn’t. It breaks my heart to think about what you were going through with your mom and that I just left you there…” 

He shakes his head like he’s trying to rid himself of guilt that had been building up inside him all these years. 

It was unexpected, that he felt this way. She hears him sniff away a tear and the jagged breath that usually follows when you’re trying not to cry, a feeling she knew all too well. 

She didn’t quite have it in her to alleviate him of the pain he was now feeling. Not for any cruel reason, like she thought he deserved to feel that way or anything, because she had been there, too, and it was not pleasant. She just didn’t know what to say to him because she never knew what to say to herself in these moments either. 

He straightens up a little in his armchair, like he was becoming aware of how public this setting was. He wished they could be somewhere else right now. Anywhere else. 

“I didn’t think you would remember.” She says, finally, and he feels the punch to his gut. 

“Of course, I remember. I’ve never forgotten. It’s the one thing I regret the most.” He shakes his head again. “I’ve…missed you. That’s all I can say. Finding you again after all these years just felt fortuitous in some way, that maybe I could make everything right between us.” 

Confusion and alcohol start to cloud her brain. 

“You got me this job?” She asks. 

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t get him to do anything. Jack isn’t like that.” He defends himself when he realises how it must now look to her. “Honestly, your record and your career speaks for itself. That’s why he offered you the position.”

“Right.” She said rather coldly. “OK. Well, thanks for clearing that up.” 

She rubs at her forehead, sobering up faster than she’d like to, and places the empty glass down on the table in front of them. It clashes loudly with the glass tabletop but no one notices or turns to look at where the sound comes from. 

“I really need to go. It’s getting late and I need to collect Liv early in the morning.” 

She makes a move to leave the table and he doesn’t know what to do to stop her. 

“Gracie…” 

“Thanks for the drink, Andy. I’ll see you on Monday.” 

She walks away and doesn’t look back. She doesn’t look back at any point from the bar to the lobby, to the elevators and all the way back up to her floor to her room. Although now her room didn’t feel as safe as it did hours before when she didn’t know he was in the same building. 

She at least made it back before the tears started, but the release doesn’t make her feel any better. Not even with the door firmly shut and eleven floors separating them both. 

Her laptop was open and showing a screensaver of her and Dan, her various work papers piled to the side. She snaps down the lid and leans on the table, willing her heartbeat to return to normal. Yet another broken night of sleep ahead when she needed it the least, she groans. 

She knows she should switch the light off. She knows she could pull back the covers and crawl as far underneath as possible, just like she did when she was a kid in the vain hope of washing away the day so she might be able to get up and start again in the morning. Maybe pretend it had all been a dream or some kind of waking nightmare. She knows she needs to push this all to the back of her mind and concentrate on the things that she can control. She knows it’s all pointless now. 

She knows who’s knocking at her door. 

She swallows and feels the pounding in her chest get heavier. Nothing could prepare her for the eyes staring back at her when she eventually cracks the door open moments later. 

Without a single word, Andy pushes himself inside forcing her back a few steps, and closes the door behind him. She waits for him to speak but no words come out. Just his blue eyes gazing back at her, so bright and alive even in the apparent darkness of their surroundings. 

He slowly takes the last few steps towards her and closes their gap. She feels oddly calm now and sober as he looks down at her. She watches his eyes flick between hers and her lips, and his hand reaches up to gently caress the side of her face. He traces his thumb tenderly across her bottom lip like he’s thinking of some sweet memory from years gone by and refamiliarizing himself with her all over again. 

A brief recollection of standing in his office late at night flashes in her mind and without even registering what he’s doing to her, she feels 19 all over again.

When he decides he’s had enough of wasting time, he kisses her. A whisper-like kiss at first, soft and sweet with the faint air of expensive whisky melting between them both. When she doesn’t pull away, he presses their lips together a little harder and she feels his hands connect softly with her face again, his tongue lightly swiping across her bottom lip in the hope that she’ll allow him what he so desperately wants. 

And so, she does. 

Even after so many years apart, Andy helped her forget about everything. Family, her work, studies…everything seemed to melt away with him. If she had been stronger, perhaps more awake, she would have stopped what happened next, but he was right. 

Some things never change. 

*

[ragingpancake]

I Got You

A/N: I watched Echoes the other night and frankly, I just needed to write this. Sort of an unofficial sequel to The Road to Nowhere Leads to Me.

They’re almost back to Atlantis from the mainland when Rodney realizes that maybe something’s a bit off with Sheppard – er… John (and he has to remind himself to start calling Shep—John by his first name because this whole… thing between this is still relatively new and it’s probably not social acceptable for one to refer to one’s boyfriend by last name only). No one would ever really call him chatty, but this level of quietness is almost unsettling, especially when Rodney tries to goad him into some gentle bantering and he’s just not having it. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks finally as the city is just coming into view. “Huh?” Rodney squints, mouth turning down in a frown. “I certainly didn’t stutter, Colonel.” Maybe that’ll get his attention.

He waits a moment, and then two. Nope. Nada. The lights are on but nobody’s home. “… John.”

At that, John lifts a hand and presses the heel of it against one of his eyes, wincing and Rodney notices for the first time how not well the other actually looks. “I’ve just… got this killer headache that won’t go away,” he says and it actually sounds pained in a way that Rodney isn’t quite used to from him. He watches as John squints at the city in the distance. “Maybe I should take over?” For a split second, he thinks John might be considering it before he shakes his head. “Nah, s’alright. I know how much you struggle to fly in a straight line.” There’s the smallest hint of teasing in his voice but Rodney doesn’t rise to the challenge because it’s such a weak attempt on John’s part that he knows he’d absolutely assassinate John with a comeback and where’s the fun in that? “Are you sure? Because, because I’ve been in one of these things when it’s crashed into the water, if you remember correctly, and I really have no intention of repeating that, so if you aren’t feeling well, I’d rather just--.” “Rodney,” John says and now, there’s a trace of a bite to his tone. Wow. Hostile. “Okay, I’m just saying--.” “I know,” John says. “But it’s fine. I’ve got it.” Rodney resigns himself to believing that for about a split second until he glances over again and notices the blood dripping from John’s nose. “John--.” “Dammit, Rodney! I said I’m--.” And whatever lie John was about to tell dies on his lips as he slumps over, head smacking the console. Immediately, Rodney leaps into action, grabbing John before he slips out of the pilot’s chair to ease him down onto the floor, his head lulling to the side sickeningly. “Jumper 1, this is Atlantis, come in. Your course has drastically shifted.” Radek’s voice comes through the comm system in the jumper and Rodney suddenly realizes that no one is, you know, actually piloting. “I need a medical team to the Jumper Bay. Sheppard is down, I repeat, Sheppard is down.” He scrambles into the pilot’s chair and manages to jerk it upwards approximately three point five seconds before the jumper crashes into the ocean. “Rodney?” It’s Elizabeth’s voice now, and she sounds about as worried as Rodney feels. “Carson’s here. What happened?” “Can’t talk now! Trying to fly and not, you know, crash and send us both to our deaths in the horrifically vast ocean. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.” “Rodney!” “Just have them standing by!” He cuts off the comm system and glances down at John who has not yet regained consciousness. “Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.” It becomes his mantra as he somehow manages to navigate the jumper back to the city and into the bay. He barely has time to lower the door before a med team is swarming in and before Rodney has a chance to so much as breathe, they’re gone, John with them. There’s a small bit of blood on the floor from where John was laying and Rodney has to work very hard not to throw up. ---- It’s dark in the hallway, save for the faint blue glow emanating from the center of the wall closest to him. He reaches out, hand pressing against it and he can feel the thrum of hurt intensifying, adding to what’s already there in his head. He staggers at the force of it, drops to his knees and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to stave off the pounding of his head. But this isn’t his hurt, he realizes after a moment. It’s hers, and that thought alone is enough to force him back to his feet, hand reaching out to touch that blue light again. This time, he feels an almost burning heat fanning out from the center of his hand as the blue expands and he watches as it begins to creep across the wall, almost as if it’s beckoning him to follow. He’s never been good at following orders and he has the record to prove it, but he finds his feet moving, seemingly of their own accord, allowing the glow to lead him down the darkened hallway for what seems like forever until it stops, finally, at a room he doesn’t quite recognize. “Why am I here?” Because I need your help, she answers

back, the words cool and gentle within his mind. Find me, John Sheppard. Before it’s too late. “Before what’s too late? What are you trying to tell me?” But she’s already receding from his mind and all he’s left with is a light so bright that penetrates the darkness as John opens his eyes. --- Rodney’s there when John finally comes to under the bright lights of the infirmary. “Oh thank God,” he says as he slumps back into the chair, running a hand across his forehead. “Far be it from me to say I told you so, but--.” He doesn’t get a chance to finish before John is sitting up so quickly that it makes Rodney a bit dizzy, kicking the blankets off of his legs. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He stands up, pressing a hand to John’s shoulder to ease him back down onto the mattress and Ronon is on the other side of the bed, doing the same. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” The Satedan asks in his natural rumble. “I have to help her,” John says and Rodney suddenly finds himself a bit miffed at that. “Help who?” He asks and if he sounds a little pissy, he thinks he’s probably allowed because you know, he’s the one been sitting at John’s bedside for the last several hours, worried very much about the possibility of brain damage and now that he’s awake, the first thing he mentions is some second rate harlot and--. “The city,” he rasps and he grabs Ronon’s wrist, trying to force it off of him. “Something’s wrong with the city.” “What? The city is fine,” Rodney says, but he’s reaching for his tablet anyway, pulling up the city schematics to scan over quickly, searching for any indication that something was not right. “See?” He says, and he turns the tablet to face John so he can see for himself. “The back up teams cleaned everything up nicely, there’s absolutely nothing that would indicate--.” “Rodney,” he says and there’s an almost wild look in his eyes as he glances up at the scientist, seemingly pleading with him to just listen. “They missed something. There’s something wrong, we have to--.” “Aye,” Carson greets, a smile on his face. “There ya are. Ya had us quite worried there for a bit. I’d still like to run a few scans--.” Rodney tunes him out as he searches John’s face and he supposes that there is a possibility that something was missed. It’s a huge city, many parts that they’ve yet to explore and the Wraith attack had been devastating. He rationalizes that this could also possibly be attributed to some sort of brain injury, what with the bleeding and the passing out and everything but something in John’s eyes gives him pause. Whatever’s brought him to this conclusion, John seems to truly believe that there’s something wrong with their city, with their home and while Rodney isn’t apt to act without actual evidenced based data, he finds that he can’t quite let this go without investigating. “Stop,” he says, holding up a hand to Carson. “We need to go.” “Go? What are ye on about?” Carson asks, clearly annoyed at the interruption. “We still don’ know what caused the bleedin’ an’--.” “Something’s wrong with the city,” Rodney says, echoing John’s previous statement. “We have to go.” Ronon glances at Rodney from across John’s bed and when Rodney gives a barely there nod, Ronon crowds Carson, gently ushering him away. “Sorry, doc.” “Oh, ye can’t be serious! Rodney!” “Can you stand?” Rodney asks John, and he reaches for him, carefully like he’s not sure where it’s okay to touch, especially in public, but John’s hand grabs his wrists and he squeezes gently. “Thank you.” “If you really want to thank me,” Rodney says dryly, “you can do so by not passing out on me again during what is sure to be a long trip around the city. “I’ll do my best,” John answers solemnly and Rodney supposes that’s as good as it gets. --- It’s dark outside, the Lantean sun having set several hours ago. They’ve split up into groups, Ronon and Teyla, Lorne and McMasters, John and Rodney. They’ve had absolutely no luck in finding anything of consequence and Rodney is trying very hard not to lose his temper because he’s

tried to show John on the tablet several times now that everything still shows all is well, but John is insistent. Desperate even, only growing moreso the farther away they get from the heart of the city. “Teyla, Ronon, this is McKay. Anything?” “No, Rodney,” Teyla answers back almost immediately. “It seems as though everything is still working as it should over this way.” “Lorne?” “All good here, doc. I’m gonna suggest we call it, at least for the night. Some of these labs haven’t properly been cleared yet, I’d like to--.” “No,” John says and when Rodney glances over to give him an exasperated glare, he realizes that John’s nose is bleeding again. “John, what are you--!” “This is the hallway,” he tells Rodney, reaching up to wipe the blood away, smearing it to his cheek. “This is… she needs us…” He reaches out and touches the wall and Rodney watches as it pulsates under his hand, a blue glow flickering to life. He’s always known that Atlantis liked John better than she liked anyone else, has seen it in the way rooms light up for him, the effortless way in which John activates all her tech, but this… this is something else. She’s actually communicatingwith him, he knows it. “Three levels above the east pier,” Rodney says into his comm. “Teyla—” “We are already on our way,” and over the radio, Rodney can hear the heavy footfalls of their feet against the floor. Rodney doesn’t realize that John has walked away, not at first, until he turns to see the glow halfway down the hall, barely illuminating John’s figure as it guides him further into the darkness. Rodney follows, and suddenly, John stops outside of a door. “Is this it?” Rodney asks, but he already knows the answer to the question. He slides his hand over the crystal, but the door doesn’t budge, not that Rodney expected it to. “Okay,” he says, and his voice is gentle now, perhaps more gentle than it’s ever been, but there’s something about the pinched look on John’s face that honestly, truly worries him. It reminds him of how he looked on the jumper, right before he, you know, passed out. He checks his tablet, but he knows it’s a moot point because the city is off-line down here, which is why they never knew there was a problem. The sensors just don’t reach this far, but he thinks he should be able to still get the door open. “John,” Rodney says, and there’s no response. “John.” But John seems not to hear him as he reaches for the door, fingers gripping the edge as he tries, desperately, to pull it open. “Oh, oh. Yes.” Rodney puts the tablet down carefully and he moves to the other side, glancing at John to follow his lead and as John pulls again, the noise that escapes him sends a shiver down Rodney’s spine. He screams as the door finally slides open and now, Rodney notices the blood trickling out of John’s ear, just in time to grab John as he crumples, guiding him to the floor. “Rodney!” Teyla’s voice echoes down the hallway, and Rodney calls back, voice nearing on hystericalas he situates himself below John to pillow his head on his lap. “Here! We’re here!” Ronon comes into view first, gun aimed, followed quickly by Teyla. “We heard screaming, what—John?” “It’s Atlantis!” Rodney says, “She’s using John to communicate, there’s something--.” Ronon needs to hear no more as he slips through the opened door and a second later, there’s the sound of laser fire. Rodney’s petting over John gently, shaking him gently, pleading with him to wake up but it’s to no avail. Teyla has disappeared inside of the room that John brought them to and Rodney risks a fraction of a moment to lean down, letting his lips brush against John’s forehead. “Please, please, please wake up.” John resolutely does not. --- “Did we do it?” He’s somewhere quiet and he’s alone, but he can feel her around him, leaving him warm and comforted, reminding him very much of being wrapped up in his mother’s embrace when he was seven and had the flu. He remembers that because before coming to Atlantis, it was the last time he felt well and

truly loved because she’d died less than three weeks later. You did, and he closes his eyes, letting her warmth wash over him. The pain is gone, both his and hers, he realizes and there’s a feeling of contriteness that settles inside of him, like she’s saying she’s sorry and he guesses she means for basically hijacking his mind. But, as unsettling as it should be, he finds that he’s always known she was there, really. The gentle thrumming, the quiet humming of her power he feels tucked away somewhere in the back of his mind. She wasn’t trying to hurt him, he knows. It’s not just his found family that cares for him, not just Rodney… but her too. There will be no lasting damage, she promises him and the warmth begins to recede, just a bit. To either you or me. But please tell Doctor McKay not to be too angry with me. The darkness is fading now with her and he’s not really sure why she thinks Rodney would be upset with her. He tries to ask, but the feeling of a gentle hand in his hair, a quiet murmuring of voices, breaks through and John closes his eyes, letting it guide him out of the dark. Thank you once again, John Sheppard. You saved us all. --- “—still don’t understand how we didn’t know it was here,” Elizabeth says and Rodney has to fight not to roll his eyes because they’ve been over this, he’s explained it ad nauseum. “The life signs detector is tied in directly with the city’s power grid,” he says exasperatedly and he thinks about reaching for his tablet as a nice visual aide but somewhere along the way, his hand had settled into John’s hair and it’s so soft that he kind of doesn’t want to pull it away. He doesn’t know if it brings John any comfort, but it brings him some, feeling the warmth of the other under his hand and damn if he’ll let anyone take that away from him. Even at the sake of his own sanity for having to go through this again. “That part of the city still doesn’t get any power. No power means it can’t communicate with us. We never would’ve known.” “… never would’ve known what?” The raspy voice from the bed asks and Rodney very nearly topples out of his chair as he yanks his hand back, gaping down at John, and “oh, thank god!” “Wraith,” Ronon says by way of explanation, like it’s the most natural thing in the world and Rodney supposes maybe it is. After all, at least for right now, it’s the Wraith that’s proved to be their biggest pain in the ass. “Technically, a Wraith transmitter,” Rodney corrects and he can’t quite tear his eyes away. “The Wraith was.. well, indisposed, as it was. How are you feeling?” “What d’y’mean ‘indisposed’?” “It blew itself up when it realized that the room was heavily shielded and that the beacon couldn’t get through,” Ronon says and Rodney glares at him, because he’sthe one who likes to do all the explaining, thank you very much. “Blew a hole in the wall almost the size of a jumper.” “Yes, well,” Rodney says, steering the conversation back, “somehow, there was some sort of a fail safe built into the city’s infrastructure. There was a kind of a force field where the wall used to be, not unlike that of the cells, but with no power, it wouldn’t have held much longer. When it failed, that thing would’ve sent our coordinates to every Wraith hive ship in the galaxy and well, the ruse would’ve been up. But enough about that, how are you feeling?” “Kinda like I got hit by a truck,” John says and he shifts on the bed to sit up a bit more. “The transmitter’s been taken care of?” “Blasted into almost as many pieces as the Wraith,” Ronon says proudly and Teyla squeezes his arm gently. “We are very glad that you are awake, John,” she says diplomatically, “but perhaps it would be best if we let you rest?” “Whaddya mean? That’s all he’s been doing,” Ronon scoffs, but Teyla tugs at his arm anyway, bless her. “Come,” she says. “Elizabeth, perhaps I could help you in your office, go over the schedule for the teams set to search the rest of the city?” And whatever look she shares with Elizabeth has her nodding, turning to give them both a

smile. “Of course, thank you Teyla,” she says and she reaches out for John, squeezing his arm gently. “Good to have you back with us, John.” John lifts a hand in response as everyone filters out, leaving him and Rodney alone. “You’re an idiot,” Rodney says, just because it’s expected of him, has become part of their standard routine whenever John lands himself in the infirmary. “For what?” “Oh, I don’t know, for letting a sentient city scramble your brains.” “She said she’s sorry, you know,” John says and Rodney rolls his eyes. “Of course she did. And when did we decide that she was a sheafter all? I suppose it makes sense, what with the way women across twogalaxies fawn over you, the famous Colonel Kirk.” “It’s okay to be jealous, Rodney.” “Excuse me? I am not jealous! I just think it’s a little funny that--.” “She even said she hopes you’re not too mad at her,” John interrupts. “What? Why would she care about that?” “I dunno,” he shrugs and he lays back against the pillow, closing his eyes. “Guess she knows how important you are to me. Probably wouldn’t wanna get in your bad graces…” He still can’t get used to this, this… thing. Where they care about each other, but have finally matured enough emotionally to say it out loud. “Yes well,” Rodney sniffs, and settles his hand back against John’s hair, “I’ll forgive her this time. But you tell that harlot--!” “Rodney,” John groans, “she said she’s sorry.” “Alright, alright,” he says and he leans forward, maybe a bit hesitantly, before he presses his lips against John’s. “I’m just… glad you’re okay.” “Yeah,” John agrees. “Me too, buddy. Now how about less talking and more hair petting?” Frankly, there’s nowhere else Rodney would rather be. “Go back to sleep, dummy.” “With pleasure.”

[13-reasons-ideas]

Hey, I love your stories and your style of writing 💕 I was wondering if you could write one on Scott Reed, along the storyline of the series, where the reader was Jeff's girlfriend until his death, and Scott is there by her side and starts to get along with her, but he's hesitant to make a move because he was pretty close to Jeff as well?

MOVING FORWARD? 

A/N: Trigger warning: character death. I hope you like this. I tried to focus more on the process of moving forward with little snippets. I’m sorry this took a while, I had to make the parts flow together and it was challenging. I wrote and rewrote it a few times. Sorry if spacing is off, I tried to fix it as best I could. You’ll want tissues and maybe a snack. It’s a long one. 

SEPTEMBER

“Babe, you don’t have to go. I can go get more beer. You stay here with your friends.” I asked Jeff, who was getting his coat to go on a beer run. Jessica’s party was in full swing and everyone was here. Even Clay Jensen came, to most people’s surprise.

“(Y/N), I’m good. I’ve been drinking Coke all night. I’ll see you in a few. I love you.”

I sighed as I looked up at his beaming face, “okay, fine. I’ll see you in twenty. Drive safe, I love you too.” I kissed him softly and watched as he jogged out to the car to run to Blue Spot. I decided to go off in search of my friends and found them in the kitchen, arguing with Scott and Monty about who should get the last beer.

“Ah, finally. Someone who can break the stalemate. (Y/N), who do you think should get it?” Scott asked me.

“Easy. Me.” I smiled, taking the bottle from the table and opening it.

“But- you… you don’t even like beer.” Layla stuttered.

“I know, but it saves me from watching the four of you argue until Jeff gets back. I’m sure you can last,” I checked my watch, “fourteen minutes without a beer.” The boys groaned and Layla turned to Katie, sighing dramatically. I shook my head as I walked away.

I was alone for a while, just wandering the house. I had seen Clay run out of the party a while ago, followed by Sherri and Hannah a while after that. I played with my necklace, a gift from Jeff for our first anniversary, just people watching, the bottle of Coors still full in my hand. My phone buzzing in my pocket pulled me from my thoughts. “hello?” I asked, not bothering to look at who was calling. I assumed it was Jeff calling to confirm how much beer he needed to get.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N/N)- you- oh fuck.”

“Who is this?”

“I-it’s Clay. (Y/N) you… oh god. I called 911 already. There’s been an accident.” No. No no no. Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say. “J-Jeff.” His voice cracked. I heard sirens in the distance. I felt as though I was frozen. “Th-the police are here; they want to talk to me. They’re calling his parents. Oh god (Y/N/N). I have to go.”

“Clay. Clay wait. What happe-.” I tried to ask. He hung up before I could get any words out. It was almost like I had an out of body experience. I lowered my phone and felt the full bottle fall from my grip, shattering on the floor. No one was around to notice, or at least, I couldn’t see if there was. I had tunnel vision. Jeff… he can’t… no.

I blinked quickly a few times to try and make my vision normal, as well as keeping the welling tears from falling. Need to find sports boy. I couldn’t think of the proper words. Walking back towards the kitchen, I scanned the room for someone in a varsity jacket or a face I could identify as an athlete, hell, I scanned for Monty’s plaid shirt. Something like this should trump the stupid fight we had earlier today. I spotted him over by the fridge, talking to some girl. “Monty.” I said quietly as I approached him. He didn’t hear me. “Monty.” I tried again, a little louder. He still didn’t hear me, or he heard me and chose to ignore it. “Montgomery.” I said louder, my voice cracking and placing a hand on his bicep. He froze for a second.

“One second.” He told the girl he was putting the moves on. I watched him turn to face me. As soon as he saw my face, his mouth closed, and his brow furrowed. “(Y/N), are you okay?” Monty asked me, his eyes softening and his demeanor changing almost immediately. I couldn’t get any words out now that I had found someone to tell. I just shook my head and waved my arms awkwardly. “(Y/N/N), did something happen? What happened?”

I opened my mouth and my voice cracked. It felt like my throat was trying to open around a peach pit. “J-Jeff….” Was all I could say. My face crumpled and my eyes squeezed shut, trying my damnedest to keep from crying or screaming. “He… there was an accident.” Monty’s entire face dropped.

“What kind of accident?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s good Monty. We have to… I have to….” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain that we needed to leave.

“(Y/N) you need to breathe. Let’s go find the guys. Come on.” He said, his face hardening as he pulled me along beside him. I turned to look at the girl he walked away from. She looked royally miffed.

“Scott. Where’s Bryce?” Monty asked his friend. I stood behind him, clutching his shirt tightly to keep myself upright. Had it been any other time, I think he would have minded.

“I don’t know, I think he went upstairs. Why?”

“We need to go.”

Scott looked between Monty and I. “Uh… do you need permission to leave now or something?”

“No Scott. We need to go.” Scott looked at me again and he seemed to register the look on my face as not simply having too much to drink. Monty leaned forward to whisper something to Scott. His eyes widened and he sucked in a deep breath.

“Okay. Uh… I’m good to drive, so you go upstairs and look for Bryce and Justin and whoever else. I’ll take (Y/N) to the car.” I clutched Monty’s shirt tighter.

“(Y/N), you need to let go. I’ll be right back. Go with Scott.” He told me, prying my fingers off his person. I heard myself hum and felt Scott guide me out to the car.

He opened the door and guided me to sit down in the passenger seat. “Do you want some water?” he asked, squatting down to my level. I nodded and he went around to the driver’s side. I turned to watch him root around in his gym bag for a water bottle. He walked back around to me and handed me the fresh bottle. I opened it and took a small sip. He watched me, steadying it when I shook too much. My phone rang again, and I looked down to see who it was. Jeff’s mom was calling. “Hello?” I asked, timidly.

“(Y/N)? Darling, you need to come to the hospital. There was an accident.” She told me, her voice shaking. I could tell she was trying to get the words out without crying.

“I know. Clay called me. We will be there soon.” I looked up as I saw the group of athletes walking out, confused and somber looks on their faces. Scott waved them over. “Okay. We are on our way to the regional hospital. Let one of us know when you get there and we will come down to get you.”

I nodded before realizing that she couldn’t see me. “Mhmm. I will.” I squeaked before hanging up. I felt several dozen eyes on me as I stared at my lap. “They’re going to the regional hospital.” Was all I said as I turned myself forward and shut the door. It was quiet for a few moments before Scott came around and started the car.

Neither of us spoke until we were about halfway to the hospital. I felt my stomach churn the closer we got. “You need to pull over.” I told Scott stiffly.

“You okay (Y/N)?” he asked, his eyes darting to me and back to the road.

“Pull over now.” I ground out, trying to keep from heaving.

“Okay, just a second.” He signalled to pull over and stopped the car. In a matter of seconds, I had the door open and was hunched over on the side of the road, throwing up in the ditch. Diego and Monty pulled over as well when they saw me, and I heard Diego call from the Jeep.

“Is she okay? Or like… she’s okay?”

I groaned. “I’ve got her, you guys go on ahead.” Scott called back. I wiped my mouth and stood up straight, sending Monty a thumbs up. He nodded and merged back into traffic. I walked back to the car, taking a gulp of water, swishing and spitting it on the road.

“We can go.” I said and it was quiet again.

Arriving at the hospital and calling Jeff’s mom was a blur. It was also a blur waiting for the doctor and watching his parents argue that I should be there to hear what was happening. I stared at the wall blankly while I waited for news. Some of the guys whispered around me, others prayed, others like me, stared blankly. Finally, the doctor agreed to let me listen and I walked over at the wave of a nurse. The nurse took me into the small room I remembered being in when I was young, and my grandma had passed.

“Mr. and Mrs. Atkins, Miss (Y/L/N). I am very sorry to have to tell you this, but Jeff passed away at the scene of the accident. I am sorry for your loss.” I closed my eyes as his mom dropped to the floor and screamed. His dad dropped and pulled his distraught wife into his arms. I took a breath and turned to run from the room. I ran down the hall, ignoring the group in the waiting room. “(Y/N), wait.” I heard someone call behind me. I ignored them. I also ignored the footsteps following me. I have to get out of here was running over and over in my head. I stopped running when I got outside and bent over, placing my hands on my knees. I gulped the air, trying to slow my heartrate and put off the impending breakdown.

“(Y/N)?” a voice spoke from behind me. I shook my head. I knew who was talking to me, but I couldn’t make myself speak. “Come here.” Bryce said gently, as though I was a fawn he was trying to approach without spooking. I still couldn’t say anything. His hand gently touched my back and rubbed in circles. I began to stand up and his arms immediately went around my middle to support my weight in the event that I couldn’t stand up. He held me for a few minutes, while I shook and tried not to cry. I noticed Justin standing at the doors with a broken yet menacing look on his face.

“He’s gone.” I whispered quietly into the blond’s shoulder.

“I know. Let’s go back inside, yeah? Get you some water and have someone take you home?” I hummed as he tucked me under his shoulder, supporting my weight.

The group of heartbroken boys were still in the waiting room with Jeff’s parents. I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with them. Monty walked up to Bryce and took me from him.

“I’ll take her home.”

“Stay with her.” Diego told him, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing. Monty nodded and took his flannel off, wrapping me up in it. I took one last look at his parents before turning and walking away, not daring to think of how I was going to have to begin the grieving process for my boyfriend.

I walked up to the school doors on Monday morning and stood there, just looking at it. I was early so there weren’t many people outside, but those who were, stared at me and whispered to each other. Jeff’s baseball shirt hung off my thin frame and my black yoga pants hugged my curves, hidden by the shirt. It seemed to be bigger than it was a few days ago. “Are you going to go inside, or do you want to cut today?” Monty asked from behind me.

I jumped slightly. “I’ll be there in a minute. I have to be here today.”

“Okay. I’ll wait with you.” He stood beside me quietly until I was ready to walk in. I took a step forward and then another, and another. He fell into step beside me. People stared as I walked in. I guess I should get used to it.Principal Bolan and Mr. Porter were waiting for me at the main office.

“(Y/N), if there is anything the school can do, just let me know and I will handle it.” The principal said. Yeah, sure you will.

“Thank you.” I replied, quietly. He nodded and walked back into his office. The appeasing statement has been made. Let’s not appear to care too much.

“(Y/N), you don’t need to be here today. You’ve suffered a great loss. Your teachers would understand why you weren’t here.” Mr. Porter offered.

I stared at him. Is he serious? “I know you’re trying to help and that’s great. But I do need to be here today.” I explained.

“Why?”

“I heard he was drinking, and she let him get in the car anyway.” A girl I had never met muttered to her friend as she passed me. Monty must have seen my features darken and he placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. I gestured to Mr. Porter.

“That is why. I need to get ahead of this. Jeff is-,” I caught myself, “was a wonderful and well-loved young man, but the kids at this school don’t care about that. If I wasn’t here, the rumors would be even worse.”

Mr. Porter nodded; he had been here long enough to know how people were. “Alright, but if you want to talk or decide you need to go home, come let me know.” I nodded at him and together, Monty and I walked to my locker.

“Did he really say, ‘you don’t need to be here today’? Like he actually fucking said that?” I asked.

“Yup. I heard it too.” Monty said, shaking his head. Clay stopped us in the hall, and I tried to smile at him. It came out as more of a grimace.

“Hey Clay. How’re you doing?”

“I don’t know. How are you doing?”

“I changed my shirt this morning. So that’s something I guess.” I shrugged.

“I’m really sorry (Y/N).”

“I know. Me too. Jeff really liked you, you know.”

“Yeah.” Neither of us knew what else to say. “I uh… I’ll see you around?”

“You will. Let me know if,” I paused, “if you want to talk sometime.”

“Okay.” He nodded before making his way to wherever it is that Clay Jensen spends his time. I tried to ignore the whispers as I sighed.

“This day isn’t going to get any easier.” I muttered. Monty shrugged as we walked. No one else really said anything to me as we walked, all of them grieving in their own ways.

“She isn’t left alone today, okay?” I heard Bryce tell the rest of the athletes, who had crowded around my locker. I had to stop myself from speaking up and telling him that I’m not a child and I can take care of myself. Instead, I readjusted my bag on my shoulder.

“Hey Bryce. Guys.” I greeted somberly.

“Hey (Y/N).” Bryce greeted, equally as somberly. He pulled me into a slightly awkward but understandable hug. Bryce hugs people when they aren’t in shock? This is probably one of the strangest interactions I’ve had with Bryce Walker since… ever. I wasn’t sure what to do so I just patted his back gently. He pulled away and the group made room for me to get to my locker.

“You can all stop staring at me any time. It’s kind of creepy.” I said as I gathered my things. “I know this is a hard day for all of us, but that doesn’t mean you need to stare like everyone else.” When I turned back, they were still looking at me. “Seriously, stop. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I will however, go to my stupid physics class and learn about the laws of motion.” I put my textbooks in my bag and began walking away from my friends. When I didn’t hear any of them following, I turned around. “You coming Diego? Hutcher will get all bent out of shape if we are late, even under these circumstances.”

“I guess so, yeah.” He mumbled, confused before quickly catching up with me.

Between the sad looks from teachers, the boys and their girlfriends following me everywhere, and the whispers from students, my patience with today was beginning to wear thin. It was around lunch time when I heard two girls talking to each other. They must not have noticed I was walking past.

“She really seems to be milking this grieving girlfriend thing.”

“Lizzie, it’s been three days, give her a break. I wonder what it was like. Must have been-.” I had finally had enough.

“What what was like? What part would you like to know about? The part where I begged him not to leave? Or when I got a phone call from a kid freaking out? Would you like to know about what it was like gathering all the guy at that party and going to the hospital? Because it turns out a brother dying sobers you up pretty quick.” I paused and looked at their expressions. “No. No you don’t want to know about that. You want to know what it was like listening to his mom scream and cry and beg God to bring her son back. You want to hear about how I haven’t eaten in three days because I’ve been crying so much I can’t keep food down. And how everyone is staring at me and whispering because apparently Jeff Atkins’ death is inconvenient for them.” Before I could continue, I felt arms going around my waist and I was being pulled back.

“Easy there Ticat.” Scott Reed spoke into my ear. I struggled for a moment and he wrapped his arms around my waist tighter. Finally, I relaxed, and he let go. I watched him turn to the girls.

“She lost her boyfriend three fucking days ago. We lost a brother. Have some goddamn respect.” He scoffed and shook his head as he grabbed the bag I dropped and led me towards the door. The girls looked as though he slapped them as we walked away. He passed me his phone as we walked. “Call Monty.” I did as he said and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” Monty answered.

“Hey. I’m taking (Y/N) home.”

“Why? Is she okay?” He asked.

“She is. At least as okay as we can expect. It’s everyone else that’s the problem.” He grumbled.

“What happened?”

“I’ll explain later. Tell Porter she had to go home for me?”

“I will. Keep me posted?”

“Will do. Bye.” He took the phone from my hand and hung up. We had arrived at his car and he seemed to have calmed down a bit. “So, home?” I blinked at him, not totally understanding the question. “Where do you live?” He clarified, slowly.

“Oh uh… just off Lincoln and sixth.” I replied. He nodded and got in the car. I followed suit and stared out the windshield. “That was… something.”

“Yeah well it’s been a long day.”

“I think they’ll be long for a while.”

“Me too.” He replied, sadly. “You don’t want to go home do you?” he asked, suddenly. I was quiet for a while before answering.

“Not really no. My parents are at work and they’ve just been hovering since Monty brought me home. But it’s so quiet.”

“I can stay if you want. I’m not the greatest cook in the world but I can manage soup broth.”

“You don’t want to go home?”

“No. Bryce may be a dick a lot of the time, but he’s right. You shouldn’t be left alone today. And I can guarantee that I am far better company than some of the other guys. We don’t have to talk or anything. If you’re not comfortable with that, I can call Monty back or one of your other, uh… friends?”

“You mean Layla and Katie? They aren’t really my friends. Have you seen or heard from them today at all? Because I haven’t.”

“I haven’t. Why do you hang out with them then?”

“Why do you spend time with Bryce Walker, Scott?”

“Fair point.” He replied, dropping the subject.

We got closer to my house and I spoke again. “It’s the slightly darker grey one up ahead here.”

“As opposed to the slightly lighter grey houses?” Scott joked. It was a really bad joke, but I felt myself start to smile slightly for the first time in days.

“Well, yeah.” I stated, biting the inside of my lip slightly to keep a straight face. He must have caught himself smiling slightly too because he quickly relaxed his face back to the somewhat somber expression, we all wore today.

“Heard that one before?”

“Yeah. Jeff joked about it a lot.” I smiled sadly at the memory. We were silent again as he pulled into my driveway and we walked to the door. Our stuff was arranged neatly by the door and we made our way through the house to the kitchen. Evidently, he wasn’t kidding about the soup thing.

“Okay, where do you keep your pots?” He asked, clapping his hands together.

“Bottom cupboard by the stove.” I pointed. I’m really not hungry and this really isn’t a good idea. He nodded and set to work searching the kitchen for ingredients.

I decided to leave him be as he fell into what was clearly his zone. When I was upstairs, I decided it might be time to have a shower and clean some of the sadness off of me. It doesn’t work like that (Y/N). I shook my head. You think I don’t know that? I just need to do something that feels normal. Once I was showered and changed into a clean sweatshirt and bike shorts, I made my way downstairs. At the sound of my footsteps, Scott looked up. “I made you a sandwich. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want, but it’s there.” I nodded and sat at the island in front of the bowl of hot soup broth. I took a timid sip from my spoon and sighed. This is really good.

“Thank you.” I muttered quietly. He nodded at me as he took a bite of his own sandwich. We ate in silence across from each other. Scott wasn’t lying when he said we didn’t have to talk if I didn’t want to. Once our lunch was done, he pulled out a notebook and did some homework at the table while I turned on the tv at a low volume, pretending to be interested in some soap opera that had been on longer than I’d been alive. Just like this morning, I pretended not to notice his not so discreet looks to check on me. He didn’t leave until just before my mom got home from work. We bid each other a slightly awkward goodbye and I breathed a sigh of relief that I could finally be alone for a few minutes.

The next couple of days at school weren’t much better. Bryce was still being… nice, which I found slightly odd. It wasn’t nice in a creepy way or anything like that. He seemed to genuinely be nice. He walked me to my first class since his was next door, keeping a respectable distance between us at all times. If he saw me in the halls, he would wave at me or nod in acknowledgement. At first, I thought he was being weird, but when I talked to Monty about it, he just shrugged. “This might be how he’s choosing to grieve. Focus on being nice to you and making sure you know someone is there.”

“I get that, but its Bryce. Usually when he’s nice to a girl….”

“I know. He’s annoying and says stupid shit. But he’s my best friend. I know him. He’s actually trying to be nice to you. Jeff was his friend.”

I sighed. “Okay. I’m not going to start hanging out with him or anything though. If he’s your best friend, what does that make me?”

“My person or whatever.” He muttered, going back to his geometry problem.

“I knew you paid attention when we watched that.” I muttered as I went back to my biology notes.

The stares weren’t much different, but it seemed like it had started really setting in for people by now. Jeff Atkins, one of their classmates, their idols, their friend, was gone. The snarky whispers stopped, but I wasn’t sure if that was because of my outburst on Monday morning or not. I noticed Hannah Baker watching me at my locker during breaks, but I didn’t pay much mind to it. She’s the girl Clay is in love with and Jeff wanted them to get together sure, but that girl had more going on than met the eye. Jessica and Justin seemed more lovey than usual which sucked to watch but whatever works for them I suppose. Justin and Bryce’s relationship seemed kind of off, but I attributed it to some stupid high school bullshit or having different ways of dealing with death. Diego and I hadn’t ever been super close or friendly at all, but he was friends with Jeff and Monty, so I had been around him. When we stopped to talk in the halls or anything, he talked to me just like he always had. We kept it to small talk and school related topics. I was grateful he wasn’t walking on eggshells and trying not to say the wrong thing.

Scott Reed was the one person I couldn’t wrap my head around though. We were kind of sort of friends. More than acquaintances, but not friends, friends. More, you’re friends with my boyfriend and best friend so that’s something, friends. We had also worked on group projects together in the past. He seemed to be stuck between trying to help me and being scared to talk to me. I would catch him looking at me from his locker but he would look away quickly in the mornings, but then at lunch or when the halls were quiet, he would try to make me smile or laugh. It was very confusing, especially with my head being so clouded by grief. I knew he wasn’t trying to make any moves or anything. It’s probably just the way he’s processing things. Maybe he’s trying to avoid the issue and this is how he wants to do it. We didn’t mention our afternoon at my house on Monday, nor did he insert himself into any grief related outbursts that may or may not have occurred in the last few days. You need to stop thinking so much. This is too much to deal with right now.

** **

I hadn’t retained anything we had talked about in school this week. I was too busy dreading this day. I stared at the classic black dress hanging on the door of my closet. It stared back, mockingly. I was in my room, hair freshly curled and pulled out of my face, neutral makeup on, doing all I could to not think about what my plans for the day were going to be just over a week ago. It was shocking how fast plans could change. Instead of a relaxing walk and maybe a game of catch with my boyfriend before dinner, I was getting dressed for his funeral. I rolled my eyes up to try to keep the tears at bay for just a little longer. A knock at my door redirected my attention. “Hey.” Monty said from the door. He leaned against the door frame, likely wrinkling his black suit.

“Hey.” I replied. I sighed and shook my head.

“Are we getting dressed or are we going to stand here hoping it dresses you on its own?” he asked, stepping into my room.

“I don’t know.”

“Your folks are downstairs waiting for you.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you want a drink?” I turned around to face him as he pulled a silver flask out of his inside jacket pocket.

“No. Need to be sober for this.”

He nodded and took a swig of whatever it contained. Today wasn’t the day to argue with him about drinking before eleven. “Do you need help with the dress or are you good?”

“I think I’ll need you to zip it up.” I muttered, motioning for him to sit on my bed as I took the dress off its hanger, going into my closet to change. I didn’t look in the mirror as I passed it on the way to my bed. He zipped it up deftly. I again, decided not to make a comment about how he wasn’t usually zipping dresses up.With that taken care of, I slipped on my black pumps and turned around to look in the mirror. “Do I look okay Monty?” I asked, pulling on my sleeves slightly, trying to cover up a little more. He placed his hand on mine to stop me.

“You look beautiful (Y/N). Stop fiddling with it and let’s go downstairs.”

“I don’t want to.” I replied, my voice cracking. Don’t cry. Do not cry.

“I know. But we need to.” He sighed. “Everyone will be there. If it makes you feel better, I can even talk to the Jensen kid.”

“Clay. And I don’t know if it would honestly.” Before we went downstairs, I asked him, “can I take you up on your offer of flask juice?”

“Not right now. You said you have to stay sober for this.”

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time today and walked downstairs, clutching the railing as I went so that I didn’t topple over.

Jeff’s parents asked if I wanted to come early so I could have some alone time to say goodbye to Jeff. When we arrived at the church, his parents, the Priest, and the funeral director met us out front. Jeff’s dad pulled me into a tight hug and whispered apologies in my ear. I rubbed his back softly and apologised back. His mom was quick to pull me in as well. “I’ll always consider you akin to a daughter, (Y/N).” She whispered. I had to fight back tears when she squeezed tighter before letting me go.

“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Father Carmichael said as he took my hand gently. They were warmer than I expected for a man his age.

“Thank you.” I mumbled. The sentiment was shared by the funeral director and I was ushered off to the waiting hearse. The back door was opened, and I stared at the shiny walnut casket filling the space. It almost didn’t believe what I was seeing. It didn’t seem real. I placed a hand on the varnished wood, noting how smooth it felt.

“This can’t be happening.” I muttered softly. I paused to wait for a response I knew would never come. “We promised each other we would have forever.” There was more I wanted to say but the tears were becoming impossible to stop. I hoped that he knew everything I wanted to say already. I wiped my tears quickly before turning around and waiting for the pallbearers to arrive. We were ushered into the church before other people arrived.

“(Y/N), would you like to sit with the family? You practically are to us.” Jeff’s mom asked as my parents went to get some water.

“Umm,” I paused and turned to Monty. He shrugged and nodded. “I guess that would be okay.” I replied, not completely sure of my answer.

“Alright sweetie.” She hugged me again and turned as the pallbearers began arriving. I watched on as the funeral director explained procedure to them. His parents and I were led out of the church once again to follow the casket into the chapel.

The church was packed full. I could hear the quiet loud of a large group chattering with one another at the door. I quickly shut the door on the original idea of a large gathering in this little church. Oh, how that day would have been so different than today. My dad wouldn’t already be seated inside, I wouldn’t be wearing black, Jeff would be standing at the alter instead of…. Suddenly we were watching the group of young men carry the heavy casket up the church steps. His cousins were trying to keep their tears in but couldn’t help the few that slid out. His uncle had tears streaming down his face. I took a deep breath and began following his mom and dad into the church. When I got to the doors leading to the chapel, I froze. I couldn’t make my feet move. Once again, I was bombarded with what should have been. I could feel people’s eyes on me but try as I might, I simply could not move. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement coming around the last pew. Scott was standing at my side in a moment.

“One foot in front of the other.” He muttered as he held his arm out slightly. I grasped it, probably too tightly, but he didn’t even flinch. Together, he walked me towards the alter. I didn’t bother to think about what people would say about it. People here weren’t that callous. I took my seat and took a deep breath as he quickly made his way back to his seat.

Father Carmichael performed a wonderful service for Jeff. I felt tears streaming down my face the whole time. When it was over, I excused myself to the washroom to fix my makeup and have a moment to myself. As expected, Monty was waiting for me when I was done. Not as expected, was the addition of Scott waiting with him. I cleared my throat and pointed to my face. “You’re good.” Monty said, after a quick once over.

“Okay.” I nodded. I turned my attention to Scott. “um… thank you. For what you did in there.” I told him, awkwardly.

“It was no problem. That couldn’t have been easy.” He said. I shook my head. It wasn’t.

“Are we going to Jeff’s after this?” Monty asked me. I paused. I should. I really should go. I just don’t know if I can.

“I don’t… know?” I hesitated.

“You could show up for a few minutes, make a quick round, and say you need to be alone.” Scott suggested. I looked up at him. Could I really do that?

“That’s not actually a bad idea.” Monty replied, rubbing his jaw in thought. “We could go to the docks afterwards.”

“Flask empty yet?” I asked.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N). We are in a church.” He gasped, scandalously.

“I don’t mean for now. And that’s rich coming from you. When was the last time you cracked open your Bible Montgomery?” He was silent and avoided eye contact. “Exactly.”

“It’s not. But it’s not like we can’t refill it if we need to.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” I nodded. I put on another brave face as we walked out of the church on the way to the grave site to lay Jeff to rest.

We made a quick appearance at the house, during which Bryce gave me another sad hug and I smiled awkwardly at people when they gave me the look I had become so familiar with in the last week. I was able to excuse myself and leave quietly with Monty and Scott in tow. The three of us made our way to the docks, after a quick stop at my place for a flask refill and extra bottle of vodka. I sat on the railing, staring out at the ocean, blankly. My companions flanked me on either side. The metal flask was passed silently between us until it was decided that I was “thoroughly fucked up” as Monty put it. The burn of the alcohol had stopped bothering me long before that.

“I cannot deny that statement.” I said, watching the waves.

“Ready to go home then (Y/N/N)?”

I turned my head to face him with wide eyes, “no. What do you think my parents would say if I showed up at home drunk?”

“Today?” Scott asked.

“I think, given the day you’ve had, they would understand. Plus, you were hanging out with me so they know you’re safe.” Monty shrugged.

“It’s the middle of the day. And you have been drinking since before eleven. There is no way you can drive right now.” I closed my eyes to stop the spinning in my head.

“I can drive. I haven’t had that much to drink.” Scott offered. It was true. He spent most of his time with the flask, holding it in his hand.

“See? Scott can drive. It’ll be fine. But if you scratch my car, I’ll beat you.” Monty threatened.

“Sure, you will Monty.” Scott laughed. We spent the rest of the day driving around town until I sobered up enough to go home, where I fell asleep as soon as I laid on my bed.

OCTOBER/NOVEMBER

The rest of September and much of October went by in a blur. I often found myself wondering if this was going to be my life now. Was I always going to be the girl whose boyfriend died? The staring stopped after a few weeks. And a couple of weeks after that, people started to move on. It was deemed socially acceptable for everyone else to continue living their lives. Sheri Holland stopped making weird eye contact with me. I wonder what that is about. Clay had seemed to stop openly pining over Hannah Baker. The guys were able to find ways to fill their time without being upset about Jeff. Everything was so… normal. The only person who wasn’t allowed to move on, it seemed, was me.

Everything was normal. Until Hannah Baker’s suicide. In the span of two months, Liberty had lost two students. Being a year older than her, we seemed to be more removed from the situation. It was still sad though. Especially when I watched how it was impacting Clay Jensen. Jeff had taken the boy under his wing while he was being tutored. I had asked him about it one night while we were on a date. Jeff had replied in his usual, happy go lucky glass half full tone, that “Clay is helping me with my grades and I’m helping him with Hannah. They’re good for each other.” I smiled fondly at the memory. Things were so much simpler then. People still looked at me in the halls. They still whispered when I passed. It became easier to ignore them. The drunk driving posters which had upset me so much when they were posted because I knew that Jeff wasn’t drinking that night, were replaced with suicide prevention posters. For the majority of my fellow seniors, Hannah Baker was just a girl. For me, she was just a girl. A girl who my late boyfriend tried to set up with his friend. It was tragic. But in my mind, it paled in comparison to the tragedy I had experienced only a month earlier.

Eventually, everyone else had gone back to normal. Except for Scott Reed. We had never really been friends. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. And while I appreciated what he did for me, both at school and at the funeral, we didn’t talk about it. He still didn’t really say a whole lot to me. Yet somehow, he was always just… there. I would catch him watching me. Or I would notice his ears perk up when I was mentioned as the guys passed me in the halls. Montgomery of all people even noticed. “You know, Scott was asking about you at practice the other day. What’s going on there (Y/N/N)?” He mentioned to me in the library one day. I merely shrugged and waved it off.

“He hasn’t really talked to me, so I don’t know.”

**

He was watching me again. His eyes followed me as I grabbed a book for my paper in the library. Stare at me any harder and you might set me on fire. Rolling my eyes, I turned and plastered on my best and brightest smile. Scott looked down and suddenly became very interested in his own book when he noticed me walking towards him. I pulled out the chair across from him and leaned in. “What’s your deal, Scott?”

“My deal?” he said into his book.

“Why are you staring at me? And why do you act like you aren’t?”

“I don’t stare at you (Y/N).”

“Then what do you call watching someone from across the hall and across rooms? Hmmm?”

“I uh… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Monty said you’ve been asking about me.”

He looked up. “He did?”

“Yeah. So, I’ll ask again, what is your deal?”

“Nothing.” He pushed his book aside.

“Sure. Whatever.” I huffed. Pulling out my books, I got comfortable. I’m already sitting here. Might as well take advantage. We were quiet for a while. He was trying not to watch me study. This is the most normal thing I’ve experienced in at least the last month.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh.”

“He was my friend (Y/N).”

“I know. Thank you. For what you did for me. I realized I never said it before.”

“No problem.” The bell rang. Packing up our stuff, we wordlessly bid each other goodbye and went our separate ways.

That day in the library wasn’t the only time Scott and I studied together after that. One of us would find the other sitting alone at a table or looking for something in an aisle. Our interactions were mostly wordless. A nod here and there when we sat down. Maybe the odd whispered question about homework. A shared chuckle about something we read. We never talked about Jeff again though. It was too hard. Still too fresh for both of us.

Around the middle of November, our silent study sessions began to change. They got a little less quiet. It was like we were walking on soft dirt ground rather than eggshells. We started bringing snacks. “What’s in the bag today Har?”

“Mini pancakes, chocolate chips, and banana protein bites.” I said, as I opened the containers. I set them in the middle of the table so we could both reach. We were studying quietly, both of us focused on our respective assignments. I could feel his eyes on me.

“I thought we were past this Scotty.” I muttered, smiling into my book. It was Thursday. I did English homework in the library on Thursdays.

“Old habits and all.”

“Mhmm. Right.”

“Actually (Y/N)?”

“Yes Scott?”

“Did you want to grab a coffee at Monet’s or something later?” I stopped writing. His question caught me off guard. “As friends, obviously.” He added when he noticed my hesitation.

“Sure. Say 4:30?”

“4:30 works.”

“Okay.”

I met Scott at Monet’s just after 4:30. We had both gotten stuck behind the same accident. He held the door open for me and even conceded when I suggested we pay separately since it wasn’t a date. I got a triple americano with cream and he got a drip coffee with milk.

“It’s like quarter to five in the afternoon (Y/N).”

“I know. But this is my order.” Jeff did the same thing.

“I’m not judging.”

“It seems like you’re judging a little.” I smiled.

“Swear I’m not.” He chuckled. I nodded and took a sip of my coffee. We sat at an open booth near the coffee bar. It was far enough away from the table Jeff and I used to sit at that it felt okay to sit at.

Neither of us really knew where to start in a conversation. The ten minutes of silence we sat in, made it exceedingly clear that all we really had in common was Jeff and some shared classes. I decided to break the ice. “Aside from football, baseball, and making soup, what else do you like to do for fun?”

“Video games but I don’t think that’s the answer you’re looking for. Hmm. I like driving into the city to go to the movie theater and seeing whatever is playing next.”

“No, it wasn’t. Expected that answer. Random movies sounds cool.”

“Yeah. What about you?”

“I volunteer at the local animal shelter. What’s the weirdest movie you’ve ever seen doing that?”

“Central Intelligence, easy. It came out last year. It wasn’t a bad movie exactly. The Rock and Kevin Hart were in it. Just not my thing.”

“Huh. I heard about that one. My cousin went to see it. She didn’t like it much either.”

“Glad to know I’m not alone. What do you do at the shelter?”

“Oh, you know, walk the dogs and puppies. Pet the cats. Clean up the odd accident. Aside from that last one, it’s pretty nice. It’s the best when you see a friend who’s been there for a while or longer, finally get their forever family and forever home.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that like?”

“It’s hard to describe. Most of the dogs get this smile and almost are able to breathe normally again. The cats get cozy in their carriers or their box. It’s really adorable. They’re content.”

“That sounds like it’s really rewarding.”

“It is. You could swing by sometime if you want. See the animals.”

He seemed skeptical and I was worried I had overstepped. I know it’s been a while since I’ve dated, but this is just as friends. So I shouldn’t be worried about overstepping. “Are you sure that’s okay? Like you’re allowed to do that?” Oh, I see. That’s a relief.

“For sure. It gives them a chance to socialize. Don’t worry, the dogs and cats that have issues with people aren’t ready to be put on the adoption list or in the adoption section until they’re able to be around people safely. Any interaction with strangers is beneficial too so they aren’t as freaked when people come to look at them to potentially adopt. Plus, who doesn’t love to play with puppies and kittens?”

He laughed heartily. “I’ll think about it. Might have to take you up on your offer. What about the other animals?”

“Oh, I’m not really comfortable handling the birds and stuff so I kind of stay away from there. It’s not a problem for the shelter. They don’t want you to be uncomfortable or afraid.”

“That makes sense. You can tag along for a random movie sometime if you want.”

It was my turn to be slightly taken aback. “I’ll think about it. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Did you finish that already?” He nodded towards my now empty mug.

“Yes. It was delicious.”

Scott chuckled to himself softly. We still weren’t sure what to talk about, because we didn’t know what we had in common aside from Jeff and school. Somehow, we found things to talk about and the hour we expected turned into two. He looked at his watch. “My folks are expecting me for dinner in approximately no minutes. I should get going.” I checked my phone and my brows rose.

“I should get going too. Before they send the cavalry to find me.”

“Library tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure Scott. I’ll see you there.” On my way home, I realized that for the first time in months, I hardly thought about Jeff this afternoon.

Our study sessions changed again after our not a date just friends’ coffee. Things were less awkward, and it seemed like we had found our footing for the most part. We talked to each other in the halls more and Scott had finally stopped watching me like a hawk. We were even cracking jokes with each other. He had begun treating me like everyone else was. Like I wasn’t going to break if he or someone else said the wrong thing. Like I was (Y/N) and not the girl whose boyfriend died.

DECEMBER

I arrived at school later than usual on a Tuesday morning. It had been a little under three weeks since our coffee not date. I immediately noticed Scott at his locker. His bag was slung over one shoulder and he was wearing his varsity jacket. He was talking to Mike. Mike was a senior in my Spanish class. I didn’t really know him all that well outside of that. I didn’t realize they were friends. When I walked past his locker, I overheard them talking about me.

“Why don’t you go for it and ask her?”

“I don’t know man. She’s really great and all but….”

“She was Jeff’s girlfriend. I get it.”

“He was my friend. I don’t want to overstep.”

“I know.” Mike said. I wanted to hear more of what they were saying so I bent down and undid the heel strap on my wedges. I fiddled with it while they talked. “This is going to sound horrible. I realize that so don’t hate me. I miss him as much as the next guy. I really do. But… Jeff isn’t here anymore, Scott. He’s gone.” You’re right Mike. That is horrible. “There isn’t really a line to overstep. It’s not like anyone can do anything to fix it. It just… is.”

“But do I want to be the guy who asks his dead friend’s girlfriend on a date?” A date? My cheeks flared. I couldn’t say that the idea hadn’t crossed my mind that Scott was an option. I had just felt absolutely terrible for it as soon as I did.

“Maybe you need to be. Maybe that could help both of you.”

“Help us what Mike?” Scott asked, the unease clear in his tone.

“Help you move…” Mike paused, “on isn’t the right word. Forward? That sounds better. Help you move forward. She needs someone and from what I’ve seen, she has Monty, those two girls who basically stopped talking to her after Jeff died, a couple of randoms she doesn’t seem to like that much, the baseball team-but it seems like they keep her around out of pity. And you. She has you.”

“And how would asking her on a date help me?”

“You have Monty, Charlie, and the baseball team. You think I think you like the rest of the team?”

“No.” He admitted.

“Exactly. And you have her. Jeff was your friend. He was her boyfriend. And he died. You both need someone to get through that. Because going through it when you feel like you’re alone, sucks. Besides, (Y/N) doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to stop being friends with someone if they ask her out and she isn’t interested in that. So, either way, she won’t not be in your life.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Course I am. Now, go. Go shoot your shot. I gotta get to math.”

My eyes widened when their conversation ended abruptly like that. I wasn’t prepared. Quickly, I stood and sped off to my own locker. I had barely had time to open it and pretend to look for something before Scott was behind me. “Hey Ticat.”

“Oh, uh. Hey Scott.”

“Whatcha looking for?”

“Book for English.”

“Cool, cool.”

“Mhmm.” Oh my God this is awkward. Please don’t ask. I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. Someone pulled my attention away before Scott could say anything else.

“(Y/N)!”

“What?”

“Monty and Alex just got into it in the parking lot. You have to come see this.” Once again this morning, my eyes widened. They’ll probably stick like this if it happens again today.

“I’ll be right there.” I turned to Scott, abandoning my bogus search, “I uh… I need to go take care of that. I don’t know if I’ll be able to study today.” Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that.

“No problem. Go. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, text me.” I called as I ran off.

I skipped our study sessions for the next week and I was cautious with our texts. It was like we were back at the beginning of our friendship. Could you even call it a friendship? Well, technically Friday wasn’t skipping. I had a doctor’s appointment. Scott didn’t appear to pick up on the change though. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was oblivious, like most other boys, or if he was just as freaked out as I was by the idea of dating. I used the time in the week that I should have been studying and would have been spending with Scott, to think about him. I thought about how easy our conversations had become and how comfortable and normal I felt with him. The way his piercing blue eye shone when he laughed. Or the way they narrowed slightly when he was silently judging some stupid comment his friends made. About how white his teeth were. The way he smiled when he finished a difficult homework problem. About how soft his hair looked. Oh dear. I’ve got it bad.

I texted Scott the next morning. Library this afternoon? He answered about half an hour later, while I was eating breakfast.

Sure. I’ll save you a seat.

Cool. I have leftover chocolate chip cookies.

In free period, I found Scott at a table in the corner of the library. His stuff was spread out on what looked like exactly half of it. There was a clear divide of where his stuff ended and where the free area was. Did he save half of the table for me? He looked up from his notes when I sat down. “Hey Ticat.”

“Hey Scotty. How’s the,” I paused and looked at his notes, “calculus coming?”

“It’s coming. I have a test tomorrow and I have no idea how I’m going to pass.”

“I can try to help you?”

“I’ll see how far I can get with this and go from there?”

“Of course.” I pulled out my geography notes and the cookies. We easily fell back into our usual silent study. It was like I hadn’t been bailing on him for a week.

When the bell rang, we packed up our belongings and snuck sly glances at each other.

“Walk you to class?”

“Sure.” I nodded and threw my book bag over my shoulder.

“How have you been this week?”

“You know. Busy.”

“Yeah. How was the doctor?”

“Good. I got a clean bill of health.”

“That’s good.” I cleared my throat, awkwardly. What happened to the way things were last week? “Hey (Y/N). Uh, did you want to maybe see a movie sometime?”

“A random see what’s playing next, movie?”

“Sure. Or, you know. You could pick a movie and we could see that.”

“Scott?” I stopped walking and stepped to the side of the hall.

“Yeah?”

“Are you trying to ask me out?”

“What would you say if I was?” I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“I’d say I thought you would be much smoother and more direct. And also, I think I would like that.”

“Saturday afternoon?”

“Sure. Saturday works for me.”

“Awesome.” He stepped back into the crowded hall and walked me to class. Maybe Mike is right. Maybe this will be good for us. For me.

Saturday morning, I got up early to get ready. We had decided he would be at my place at 12:30. Since it had been so long since I had been on a first date and… and my last date had been with Jeff, I was more than a little anxious. I wasn’t sure what to wear. I wasn’t sure how to do my hair. I couldn’t call anyone to ask because I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell people I was going on a date. Staring at my closet didn’t really help the indecision. Jeans? Do people wear jeans on a first date? I pulled a few pairs out. A skirt is too formal. And I don’t want to make the wrong impression. Shirt? I need to wear a shirt. Flicking through the hangers, I picked a couple of choices that were nice but not too nice. Options in hand, I laid them out on the bed. The jeans were easy to pare down to one choice. I went with a comfortable pair of Levi’s. Again, they were nice, but not too nice. A safe choice. I ended up choosing a striped high neck tank top and grabbed a black cardigan to wear on top. Pulling a pair of flats out, I slipped them on and fixed my hair. I side braided it quickly and pulled a few pieces out to frame my face. It looked effortless. Presentable and like I thought about it, yes. But still effortless, nonetheless.

The doorbell rang just before 12:30. “I’ll get it!” I called out to my parents in the other room.

“K.” Mom responded. I hopped over to the door. Scott was standing on my porch with his hands in his pocket. His usual varsity jacket was traded for a simple grey hoodie.

“Hey (Y/N).”

“Hey Scott. Just let me grab my purse and we can head out?”

“Sure.” Purse in hand, Scott and I walked out to his car. He opened the door for me, and I smiled shyly at him. Why are you acting so shy? It’s Scott Reed. It’s not like you’ve never spoken to him before. Oh, I don’t know? Maybe because I’m going on a date with him?

“You look… really pretty.”

I blushed and looked down briefly. “Thank you. I wasn’t really sure what to wear, to be honest. You look pretty too.” I realized what I said, as soon as the words left my mouth. I can’t believe I just said that. Oh, my word. Scott burst out laughing. “Uh. I mean. Handsome. You look handsome. Very put together.”

“No, no. I’ll take pretty. I’m confident enough in my manhood that it’s a compliment. Not every day a girl calls me pretty. Let alone one I’m interested in.”

“Trust me, it happens. It might not be to your face. But it does happen.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” We were quiet for a time. My face was still pink from embarrassment. “Did you have any particular movie in mind?”

“No, not really. I thought we could give your whatever movie is next thing a go?”

“I like the way you think. As long as it isn’t 2001. Because there isn’t a more boring film in existence.”

“Oh my God, I know right? I had to see it with my cousin once for ‘family bonding time’ and I fell asleep like twice.”

“Your family does bonding time too?”

“Ugh. You don’t even want to know.” I sighed dramatically.

“Tell me about it next time?” Woah. Next time? That… doesn’t actually sound that bad.

“Next time? We haven’t even gotten through a movie together and you’re already talking about next time?”

“Well- I- uh- we-.”

“Scott. Relax. Ask me again on the way home?”

“Okay.” He sounded relived.

When we arrived at the Crestmont, the ticket person was staring blankly out the booth’s window. The joys of the Saturday afternoon shift, I guess. “Welcome to the Crestmont.”

“Hi. How are you?” Scott asked the boy. His name tag read Andrew.

“Good. And you guys?”

“Good.” We answered together.

“How can I help you?”

“Can we get two tickets to whatever is playing next?”

“Two tickets to Ferdinand in not 3D. That’ll be ten dollars please.” Scott handed him the cash and I took the tickets. “Enjoy the show.”

“Thank you.” I said.

Inside, the concession worker greeted us in a much kinder tone than the ticketer. “Any chance you’ll let me pay for the snacks?”

“Not even a little.”

“Oh, come on Scotty, you drove and paid for tickets. The least you could do is let me pay for snacks.”

“No, I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it Ticat.”

“Please?” I looked at him with my best puppy dog eyes. I could see the resolve begin to crack. “Pretty please?”

“Ugh. Fine. You can buy the snacks.” He caved, dramatically.

“Yay.” I said, softly. The cashier looked like she was trying not to laugh but she was smiling. “Hi. Can I get a pack of gummy bears and a medium Cherry Coke, please?” I turned to Scott, “are we sharing popcorn? I don’t really eat very much.”

“That sounds good.”

“Okay. And a large popcorn. And whatever he would like.”

“Can I get a pack of sour patch kids and a medium orange Fanta, please?”

“Coming right up.” I paid her and caught Scott grimacing in the corner of my eye. The puppy dog eyes always work. With our snacks in hand, we found some decent seats, given the time of day we were there. The movie was adorable. While it was technically for children, I found it to be incredibly heartwarming. Somewhere around thirty minutes into the film, our hands found each other on the shared armrest. We turned and smiled shyly at each other.

After the movie was done, we walked back to his car, hand in hand. It felt strange but also kind of nice. “I’m getting snacks next time, if I have to steal your wallet.”

“Scott Reed, commit a crime? Why I never.”

“You’d get it back after the movie.”

“Fine. But I thought next time was when I got to bore you with family bonding time stories.”

“Only because I get to bore you with mine. And fine. Then the third date.”

“It’s a date.”

JANUARY

Scott and I had been dating for about a month by now. We were keeping it on the down low. I wasn’t ready to announce to people that I was no longer the sad, grieving, heartbroken girl who was destined to be alone that they thought I should be. Scott understood that. As far as anyone at school was concerned, Scott and I were just friends. We had already been studying together so it wasn’t out of the ordinary that we were still doing that. They must have missed all the coy or longing glances we shot each other. If anyone saw us together outside of school, they assumed we were just helping each other through Jeff’s death.

Scott and I were on a date at Monet’s. It was a Sunday afternoon. It was abuzz with patrons looking for an afternoon pick me up after church or brunch. But to us, it may as well have been empty. We were still in that ‘we are the only two people who exist when we are together’ stage. Scott had just gotten back from ordering us a couple of refills. He had memorized my order already. I thought it was the sweetest thing. “So, we’ve never really talked about it but,” he paused. Oh no. Please don’t ask about Jeff. I’m not ready to get into all of that. And I don’t want to do it in public. I’m going to cry. I know I will. “you and Monty seem pretty close. What’s the story there?” Oh, that’s it? Just Montgomery? Phew.

“Not really much of a story. We grew up next door to each other before my parents moved across town in eighth grade. His family moved in about a year after mine did. I kind of took him under my wing, especially as we got older. There weren’t many kids our age in the neighbourhood. Or at least, none our moms would be okay with us spending time around. So, we had each other.”

“Interesting. He never mentioned it.”

“Well, he likes to keep his home life… private. Or….” I paused, unsure of how much Scott knew. It wasn’t my place to air that information unless necessary. Which, if you ask Monty, was never.

“As private as he can when his dad is his dad.”

“You know?”

“Yeah. He’s crashed on my couch a few times. And it’s kind of hard not to notice the bruises.”

“Yeah. Unless you’re and authority figure at school in this town apparently.” I muttered, bitterly. Scott scoffed in agreement.

“Your parents never…?”

“Offered to help? Of course, they did. He always refused. And as long as he knew he could escape to our place and be safe, they felt it ‘wasn’t their place to interfere’.” I rolled my eyes.

“I see.” He nodded, rolling his eyes too. “My parents are the same way. Give the kid a safe place for the night, some breakfast in the morning, and send him on his way.” I nodded.

“Anyway, yeah. We grew up together. Even though we are a year apart, it never really affected our friendship. Things were a little harder for a while after we moved. But that only lasted a few weeks. Everything went back to normal soon enough.”

“Cool. It’s good that he has you. The other guys….”

“Can be terrible excuses for human beings?” Scott laughed and smirked into his cup with a raise of his brows.

“Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”

“You know, it’s weird. Because I saw it from the outside looking in, in freshman year. And then when Jeff and I started dating in sophomore year, I got to see it from the inside to a degree. I never understood how Jeff did it. Or how you do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. You and Jeff are so… good. Like inherently good. I get the teammates and ‘you’re like family’ thing. But you guys are so different from the rest of them. And I see it with Monty too. Because I see the him that he doesn’t want the guys to see. The decent him. But he fits better I guess because I know he can have his, let’s call them moments. I never understood how you could stand by and watch it. I’m not trying to attack you or anything. Just so we are clear.”

“No, no I know. I guess… I guess it’s because you don’t want to be the odd guy out. Even though Jeff never said or did anything, he was still looked at like a brother. He was able to stay in the background with all of it and almost be the glue that kept the team from falling into complete debauchery. He gave us a shred of decency. So, everyone else had something to look to. Whether they always listened to the ‘Atkins Voice of Reason’ or not is a different story. I learned a lot from him and now it’s my turn to be the voice of reason. It’s a fine line and it can be hard to walk sometimes. But someone has to.”

“I guess that makes sense.” I nodded. We spent a little longer talking about lighter topics before parting ways. We snuck a few kisses in the alley beside the building first though.

FEBRUARY

Since we had started dating, Scott had come by the animal shelter a few times to help out. He said it was to see me. I saw right through his lies. He mostly just wanted to play with puppies for a few hours. I didn’t blame him though. I would do the same thing. He surprised me on a Wednesday evening. I came back into the shelter from a walk with a German shepherd and a rottweiler. It was a long one, so they were happy to be back so they could lounge around and beg for attention. When I entered the kennels, Scott was sitting in the middle of the puppy room, surrounded by a puddle of puppies. He was being attacked by fluff. One of the labs, Daisy, was trying to scale his chest to lick his face. A terrier mix, appropriately named Jack, was trying to get his attention by gnawing on his hand. He was giggling and had the absolute brightest smile on his face. A loud bark tore my attention away from him. The rottweiler was apparently upset that I wasn’t paying attention to him. “Oh, I’m sorry Rascal. Did you need something? Do you need some attention?” I cooed and reached out to rub his head.

“Need some company? My shift is over.” I asked as I walked into the room and shut the door firmly behind me.

“Always. How was your evening?”

“It was good. Only had to deal with a few accidents. How was practice.”

“It was alright. We had more than a few accidents.” He chuckled. Daisy had appeared to have managed the climb and was cuddled against Scott’s chest.

“I see you’ve made a new friend.”

“It looks like I have. She’s very cute. Think I could convince mom and dad to let me bring her home?”

“With you going off to college next year? I don’t think so.”

“Damn. At least that one has stopped trying to eat me.” He nodded towards Jack. He was curled up in a ball in his lap, sound asleep. The rest of the puppies were either sleeping now or trying to get attention from me. I shared the pets and love as equally as I could.

“Yeah. He hasn’t learned all of his manners yet. Eating people is not the most polite thing to do when you’re trying to get adopted.” We laughed quietly together. After another half hour, it was time to call it a night and head home.

A couple of Sundays after the puppy puddle, I decided I was ready to take a big step. I was finally ready to go and see Jeff’s grave with Scott. I had been on my own before and it had been hard. I would sit and talk to him for hours. I couldn’t tell him about Scott though. I felt like we had to go together to do that. Depending on what you believe, he probably already knew about us. But I wanted to tell him anyway.

I called Scott that morning. “Hey. Are you busy later?”

“Hey Ticat. No, I’m not. Why? Something on your mind?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to go to Jeff’s grave with me today. Tell him about us?”

“Are you ready for that?”

“I think so. It’s time. I feel like it’s time for him to know. I need to tell him, but I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Of course, (Y/N). I’ll pick you up at one?”

“Okay.”

I decided to wear a skirt and a flowy top today. It was a nice day out. Scott picked me up and we stopped at the florist for some flowers. Jeff always got me purple tulips, so I grabbed a bouquet of them to leave on his headstone. At the cemetery, I walked hand in hand with Scott. We were both silent as we wandered through the maze of people’s final resting places. When we passed Hannah Baker’s grave, I took a single flower out of the bunch and placed it on her headstone.

It was both so long and yet much too fast before we were standing at the foot of Jeff’s grave. I neatly placed the flowers on the base of his headstone. Someone must have been by to visit recently because there was a worn-out baseball cap hanging off the corner. I could feel Scott’s eyes on me as I sat down and smoothed out my skirt. Since I normally came alone, I wasn’t really sure where to begin or what to say. He sat down beside me but didn’t reach out to take my hand. He was letting me do everything in my own time.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, wherever you are. But I’m choosing to believe you can.” Scott started after I hadn’t said anything. “I miss you. Everyone misses you. Coach Rick is still the same hard ass he’s been. We are hanging your jersey before our season opener. There’s some argument about if it should just be the team or if we should do it at the pep rally. I think you would want it to just be us.”

“Mrs. Davidson finally stopped reading out loud to us in Literature this week. Remember how she would just go on, and on, and on about the smallest, most insignificant details? And we don’t have to listen to her boring, monotone voice read every class now.”

“We have a chance at making state again this year. It won’t feel the same without you though. The guys are going a little crazy but I’m keeping things together. I think (Y/N) being around helps though. She really is amazing man. You have no idea how lucky you were to be with her. Or maybe you do. With the way you paraded her around like she was your pride and joy.”

“We really had something special. And I wish you were still here to keep sharing it with me. But you aren’t. And eventually, that will be more okay. And it will hurt less. But for now, it sucks. And it hurts. But I’ve started learning how to get through it. And I have help.” I reached out to take Scott’s hand in mine. He squeezed it. “Scott has been there for me every step of the way. Even the times when I wouldn’t be there for me if I were him. He’s seen it all. Heck, he’s seen me puking on the side of the road.”

“Or getting piss drunk at the docks.” I pushed him lightly.

“Yes. And he’s shown me that even though it hurts, I can let someone in again. I can be happy again. We’ve been together for a couple of months now. It’s harder some days than others. But he’s always there for me, no matter what. I understand why you liked him so much. He makes it hard not to. I see parts of you in him and it makes me smile on the hard days.” I had to pause because I was getting choked up.

“I see why you loved her so much. She makes it hard not to. She’s kind and smart and selfless. Even when she doesn’t need to be, she is. I wish I didn’t have to be, because you should still be here, but I am so thankful that I have the privilege of being with her. I hope you know that I will take care of her and I work every day to make her feel as loved and important as you made her feel. Our story can’t compare to yours, but I hope it makes you proud.” My tears had started to fall, and Scott pulled me into his lap. I cried into his shoulder. This was so much harder than I thought it would be. I miss Jeff. When my tears were under control, I looked at Scott for a moment. I looked back at Jeff’s headstone and was silent for a while. I was the first to stand. Brushing the dirt off my skirt, I reached out for Scott’s hand. He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I moved the ball cap on top of the flower stems so it wouldn’t blow off in the wind.

“I love you.” I whispered. Turning around, Scott and I walked back to the car silently and drove home in somber, yet comforting silence.

MARCH

I was asleep on Scott’s chest when my phone began buzzing on the bed beside me. I slowly woke up and groggily searched for the unexpected noise. “Hello?” I whispered; my voice thick with sleep.

“(Y/N)?” Monty’s voice came through the other end of the line. He sounded like he was in immense pain. I sat up slowly, so I didn’t wake Scott.

“Monty, what’s wrong?”

“My arm. It really hurts. My old man. I, fuck, I don’t think I can drive. Can you come help me?”

“Uh…” I paused, looking at the man sleeping soundly beside me. “Yeah. Give me fifteen, twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” He said before he hung up.

I noted the time before waking Scott. It was just after one in the morning. “Scott.” I whispered, shaking him slightly. He grunted in response. “Scott, wake up for a second.” I urged again.

“Hmm? Wha’s goin’ on?” he mumbled as he woke up.

“I need to go take care of something. I don’t know when I’ll be back. You can stay here and go back to sleep. If I’m not back when you wake up, you can go home or you can stay here. If you stay there is cereal in the cupboard, and K-cups under the Keurig. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay (Y/N).” He muttered, already falling back asleep.

After quickly changing into a clean shirt and sweatpants, I ran downstairs. I left Scott a note on my dresser so he wouldn’t be too confused if he didn’t remember my telling him goodbye. I pulled up in front of Monty’s house and we drove silently to the hospital. I really hate it here. “What are we telling them this time?” I asked after I paid for parking.

“Sex?”

I blinked at him slowly. “What the hell kind of sex results in a possibly broken arm?”

“The really kinky kind?”

“Pick something better.”

“I fell down the stairs?”

“Alright. That could be believable.” With that, we made our way into the ER to have his arm fixed. We waited an hour to be seen and then another forty-five minutes for an X-ray.

“It looks like you won’t need surgery. I will need to cast it though.” The doctor advised.

“Alright.” Monty replied calmly, the pain meds having done their job. The doctor produced a bin of colours to choose from.

“Pick a colour and I’ll have you on your way soon.” He looked through them and decided on blue. Once wrapped and we were going to be on the way, the doctor added, “turn on the light next time.”

“Will do Doc. Thank you.” Monty replied and waved with his good hand.

Once we were in the car and on the way to my place, I realized I would need to explain Scott being over to him. Just tell him. I sighed before speaking. “Hey, so my parents are out of town, but you’ll need to sleep in the guest room.”

“Uh… okay? Why?” he asked.

“Because?”

“Because why?”

I felt my face heat up a bit. “Um… my room might already be… occupied?” I squeaked. I peeked over and his eyes widened.

“You mean…?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Who is it?”

“Scott?” I said, my voice raising an octave or two. Monty breathed out a whistle.

“Are we okay with that?”

I paused again, thinking. “Yes. Yeah, we are.”

“Well alright then.” he replied, leaning back and getting comfortable in the passenger seat. The house was quiet when we got back around four-thirty. Monty was tucked in the guest room as I slinked my way back into my own room. Scott was still sleeping soundly in bed. I crawled in beside him and went back to sleep for a few hours.

The following morning, I woke up and quietly made my way downstairs for breakfast. Monty followed not long after me, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a mug of coffee. I waited until he sat down and had a few sips before greeting him. “Morning Monty. Sleep okay?”

“Morning (Y/N). I slept okay. You?”

“It was alright. Warmer than I’m used to.”

“I’ll bet it was.” He smirked at me.

“Oh shush you.” Monty chuckled softly as I rolled my eyes.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah. I am.” I nodded, smiling.

“Good. That’s good.” He nodded and took another sip of coffee. We heard footsteps coming downstairs and looked up.

“Morning (Y/N).” Scott muttered from the middle of the stairs.

“Morning Scott.” I replied.

“Morning Scotty.” Monty greeted, as though this was a perfectly normal Saturday morning. Scott almost missed a step, he stopped so fast.

“Uh. Morning Monty?” He looked to me and raised a brow.

“He needed me last night. I had to tell him.” I shrugged.

“Okay.” He said, walking over to the Keurig and making a cup of coffee. The three of us stood around the kitchen slightly awkwardly looking at each other.

“Same rule applies as with my car. I’ll beat you if you scratch her.”

“Jump right to the threats, why not?” I muttered into my mug.

“I’m sure you will, Monty.”

“Damn straight.”

“Even though I’m your favourite friend?”

“(Y/N) is my favourite.”

“I’m your person. Not your favourite.”

“Yes you are.”

“You don’t call your favourite when you kill someone and need help hiding the body.”

“Excuse me?” Scott interjected, alarmed.

“She made me watch Grey’s Anatomy with her over spring break a couple of years ago.”

“Oh. I see. How was that?”

“It’s network tv with a lot of censored sex. And drama.”

“No boobs?”

“No boobs.”

“Yeah, it would be better with boobs. And if everyone stopped leaving and dying.” I added.

“Does this mean I have to watch it with you?”

“No, you might have to sit through an episode of The Bachelor though. I mostly just watch it because I don’t understand how none of those stupidly attractive people can find dates on their own.”

“You hate watch it. I can’t wait.”

“Well, you’ll get to look forward to what happens after we get done hate watching it.” I retorted, lowly. Scott rose his brow suggestively.

“Oh really?”

“And on that note! Who wants… whatever I can make (Y/N) cook with eggs, peppers, and… meat? What is this meat?” Monty cut in as he went through my fridge.

“I think it’s pork. Could be ground turkey though. There’s potatoes in the cupboard. Breakfast hash?”

“Sounds delicious.” Scott answered. I moved around him and got the bag of potatoes so I could start helping.

“How long has this been going on for anyway? Also remember that I’m still here so you can’t be all touchy.”

Scott looked at me before answering. “Since December.”

“How did I not notice?” Monty said after a pause.

“I don’t know. Too busy with sports and Bryce? There’s also spinach. Do I add the spinach?” I turned around and the boys were both making faces. “No spinach then.”

“I was not busy with Bryce.”

“Mhmm. That’s not why you blew off our movie marathon tradition?”

“Okay, point made.”

“How’s your arm?”

“It’s okay, hurts like a bitch. Why, Scott?”

“Just asking.” Scott turned to me and whispered, “his dad?” I nodded.

“No flirting.”

“I didn’t get to kiss her good morning, give me a break.” I turned and watched Scott playfully flip Monty off. Then, he placed a soft kiss to my lips and I smiled into it. “Good morning beautiful.”

“Good morning handsome.”

***

“Monty knows now.”

“He does.” I replied, leaning back into his chest on the couch. “He’s okay with it.”

“That’s good.”

“You aren’t going to be jealous, are you? Because there is nothing going on between us.”

“No, I know. What was the fight about this time?”

“Who knows. He called me and said he needed me, so I went. He wanted to tell the doctors it was a sex accident.”

Scott laughed. “What the fuck kind of sex would that have been?”

“The kind that would have broken his wrist, not his forearm.”

“You would have been the top?”

“Yes. So, you see why we couldn’t say that.”

“Right. That’s why.”

“We said he fell down the stairs.”

“Plausible.”

“Anyway, no idea what it was. But knowing his dad, it could have been anything. There’s a reason I don’t go to his house very often.” I left it at that and we cuddled on the couch for a while.

“Hey Scotty?”

“Yeah, (Y/N/N)?”

I sat up and turned to him. “Now that Monty knows, do you think we could tell other people? Maybe… maybe enough time has passed that people will understand?”

“I think we can tell people, if you want to. I don’t care what people think. I would have told everyone in January if you wanted to.”

“I know. I just… I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never been the girl whose boyfriend died before.”  

“I know. People might talk for a few days, but they’ll move on. No one expects you to have stayed single for the rest of your life.”

“Not my whole life necessarily. Just the rest of high school.” I joked.

“The people who complain can fuck off.”

“I guess. And things have kind of gone back to normal now. Or as normal as they can.”

“We don’t have to tell people if you don’t want to (Y/N).”

“I do. I think we need to. I don’t want to hide you anymore. It’s time for me to start living my life in the open again.”

“And honestly, I’m tired of hiding you.” We spent a little longer watching tv together. It was nice having someone I could just sit and be with again. We each took turns choosing shows. “I should probably head home soon sweetheart.”

“Okay. I’ll see you Monday?”

“Of course.” Together we gathered up his things and tidied the kitchen. Scott kissed me goodbye, and I leaned against the front door after he had driven away.

Monday would be the last big thing I had to do before graduation. It was the last step in beginning to move forward. I would always love Jeff Atkins. He would always be a part of me and hold a special place in my heart. But I had realized over the last several months that I could be happy again. I wouldn’t be betraying him for allowing myself to fall in love with someone again. And I had Scott Reed to thank for that.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Feel it Out

Emily (Stardew) x They/Them Reader

A/N: Just Penny is left! Enjoy some time with the dancing queen, even if you aren’t that coordinated. Word Count: 1,798

(Y/n) smiled to themself, the sound of music slowly growing louder as they approached Haley and Emily’s house. Just as they were about to knock on the door of the grand house, Haley opened the door with such force that it pushed (Y/n) back on their heels.

“Good, you’re here. I’m leaving.” Haley grumped, muttering something about tasteless music being too loud and insufferable sisters. She didn’t even stop to apologize for nearly breaking (Y/n)’s face with the front door.

“See ya, Haley,” The farmer smiled and waved anyway, earning a grunt from the photographer as she made her way into the Cindersnaps.

(Y/n) shrugged and entered the house, following the sound of music to Emily’s room. They opened the door and couldn’t help but laugh at the way Emily was dancing. She was just so carefree. Even when the blue haired girl took notice of her visitor, she continued her eccentric movements.

“(Y/n)! Glad to see you made it!” Emily called out mid dance.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you?” (Y/n) greeted.

“The energies are really good today, (Y/n). Perfect for learning how do dance!” Emily breezed towards (Y/n) and took their hands, twirling them around the space.

“Wait a minute, Em. Let me take off my boots first. When I inevitably step on your toes, I don’t want it to hurt too bad.” (Y/n) said, extracting themself from Emily’s hold.

“On a lucky day like today? Not likely. But please, do get comfortable. Really feel the way you move around the floor.” Emily swayed and hummed while she waited for (Y/n) to take off their boots before scooping them up in her arms again.

“Emily if you could move a bit slower and maybe explain the footwork to me, I’d do better.” (Y/n) laughed, their feet moving in half skips to try to keep up with Emily.

“Alright, something slower and more controlled for my no nonsense farmer.” Emily paused her dancing, though she still swayed her hips from side to side in tune to the music as she thought of how best to proceed. “I got it!” She snapped her fingers, “the traditional Flower Dance is easy enough. It’ll be good practice for when we dance together next spring!”

(Y/n) thought back to being the wallflower at their first Flower Dance. They hadn’t even been in town for more than a few weeks back then. They remembered the slow and methodical footwork and nodded.

“Yeah, that might be a good place to start. And you’ll have two seasons to teach me before the next one rolls around so if I can’t get it by then, you can get a partner who knows what they’re doing.” (Y/n) joked.

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll dance with you no matter what! If we have to dance to the beat of our own drum, that’ll work just fine!”

“I don’t think Haley would be happy with interpretive dancing going on during the traditional dance. She’d probably kill us with how seriously she takes it.” (Y/n) said, thinking back to how the girl practiced right up until the beginning of the line up.

“Haley could learn a little something from going with the flow from time to time.” Emily shrugged. “Now watch what I do and repeat after me.”

Emily took a few steps, counting them out, “one, two, three, one, two... try that.”

“One, two... three? One?” (Y/n) parroted with uncertainty. Their feet hardly matched Emily’s steps at all.

“You’re close,” Emily lied. “Let me slow it down a bit more. One, two, three, one.”

(Y/n) tried again which quickly led to them calling out in pain as they knelt to the ground after back stepping into Emily’s work table.

“You okay?” Emily asked with a sympathetic smile. She held her hand out to help pull the farmer up.

“Yeah, that’s gonna leave a bruise.” They winced, taking the hand Emily offered them.

“Want me to kiss it better?” Emily asked slyly.

(Y/n) snorted and shook their head, “no.” They said.

“Then let’s try again. Maybe it’ll help if you move with me. Here I’ll do the steps walking back and you follow by stepping forward where I left, okay? It’ll work, I’m sure of it.” She took (Y/n)’s weather worn hand in hers as she smiled brightly.

“Hey, for you, I’ll try my hardest.” (Y/n) smiled back, giving the hand in their own a loving squeeze.

“You are just so charming I can hardly stand it!” Emily cooed. “I knew the spirits brought me something special when you moved into town.”

“I knew I made the right choice moving here when I saw this pretty girl serving drinks at the bar.” (Y/n) flirted.

“I remember that night,” Emily giggled, swaying on her feet and making (Y/n) rock with her, “you came in caked with dirt and you tracked in slime all over the floors. Gus was so miffed. Good thing you ate a lot to make up for it.”

“I was starving, the mines’ll do that to a person.” They snickered. “And like I said, it was like you were a cute, colorful Junimo sent by Yoba. I may have drank a little too much just so you would keep coming back.”

“Good thing I caught on, I think I really saved your liver.”

“Hey, I stopped after a couple drinks!”

“Not before you fell off your stool.” Emily reminded.

“Well, it was a good sign for me to stop, wasn’t it?” (Y/n) laughed sheepishly.

The couple laughed and swayed until another upbeat song began to play and they remembered there was an objective to complete. Emily showed (Y/n) the steps again and they clumsily followed her back. They worked in circles around the room until (Y/n) more or less had the steps.

“Wonderful, (Y/n)!” Emily beamed. “Let’s try the next set of steps now.”

“You mean there’s more?”

Emily laughed, nodding her head. She explained the next set, showing them with her own feet before looking up at (Y/n), waiting expectantly. The poor farmer looked so lost. Like the lights were on but nobody was home.

“Here, step on my feet.” Emily directed, wiggling her bare toes for emphasis.

“I thought we were trying to avoid that.” (Y/n) said, brow quirked.

“Well don’t stomp on them. Just, rest your feet on top of mine and let me do the rest.”

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Won’t know until we try!”

“Well, if you’re sure...”

(Y/n) gave in, resting their feet on Emily’s. They laughed when they saw Emily wince but try to hide it with a wink.

“Too much for you?” (Y/n) smiled good naturedly.

“No way!” Emily shook her head. “It’s just that, well, I’m kind of pinned down.” She sheepishly admitted.

“Yeah,” (Y/n) set their feet back on even ground, “I think that method only really works on kids. Show me the steps again?”

“You know what? Let’s just put that on the back burner for now.” Emily waved dismissively, backing up from (Y/n) to begin a new dance of her own design. “Let’s loosen up! Just let the music take you wherever. Really feel it pull and push you around.”

“Huh?” (Y/n) squinted, as if that would help them understand the prompt at all.

“Just do what feels right.” Emily simplified.

(Y/n) pursed their lips and stared down at their feet. They listened to the music for a bit before shrugging and began tapping their foot and gave their shoulders a stiff little shimmy.

“I feel dumb.”

“Don’t be afraid, honey. Really let loose! It’s just me, I’m not going to judge you.” Emily coaxed, motioning artfully for (Y/n) to turn up the heat.

“I’ll try.” (Y/n) blew out a big breath of air.

They turned on their heels and spun in a circle popping up with some jazz hands for flare.

“There you go! Now add even more flare!” Emily encouraged with a twirl of her own.

(Y/n) surprised Emily by taking her by the hips, spinning Emily along with them before lifting her up into the air. They spun her around a few more times before safely returning her to the floor. The blue haired girl giggled in delight, taking the lead from there to rock (Y/n) and herself side to side. She kissed the farmer as she looped her arms around their neck.

“See, that was really good! You’ve got more moves than you thought.” Emily said.

“I learned from the best,” (Y/n) said, their hands still placed on either side of Emily’s hips, “I’ve kinda learned how to just roll with it and expect the unexpected with you, Em.”

“Glad I could help you open your mind. I also think it’s nice how you ground me when I’m floating too far away,” Emily pressed closer, “I think we compliment each other quite nicely.”

“That we do.” (Y/n) easily agreed.

They swayed together again for several minutes, only pausing a few times in between when an accidental misstep would leave Emily’s foot pinned to the floor. They’d laugh it off and try again, staring at each other adoringly. They were so far off in their own little world that they both jumped in surprise when Haley came in without them noticing and turned off the music.

“You two have been at this for hours. Don’t you have work, Emily?” Haley asked with disinterest, at least she cared enough to ask. The blonde then trudged out of her sister’s room, only to return moments later with a closing remark, “you guys look like huge dorks by the way.”

Emily ignored Haley and turned to look at the clock, “Wow, how time flies! Gus will be expecting me soon. I better get ready.”

“Right, I needed to see Robin about a couple of new projects we’ve been working on. I’ll pop in for dinner?”

“I certainly hope so,” Emily subconsciously kept swaying with (Y/n) even though there was no music, “it’s my favorite part of the night.”

“Then I’ll be there by eight.” (Y/n) affirmed.

“I can’t wait,” Emily smiled, “dance me to the front door?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

(Y/n) and Emily made their own music as they paraded through the living room. Haley looked up from her magazine and shook her head, sinking deeper into the couch with the knowledge that she would soon have peace.

(Y/n) walked Emily to the Stardrop and they were already looking forward to coming back later when Emily gave them a sweet kiss on their cheek as they parted. Maybe they could stay until Emily’s shift ended and walk her home too. Anything to spend more time with the carefree soul.

As (Y/n) made their way into the mountains, they hummed one of Emily’s catchy tunes with an extra pep in their step.

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Sleepless Starry Sea [星海无眠] Date Translation (Prologue)

“So, are you covering my ears now because it's thundering in the exhibition hall?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 5 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by a friend, reblogs and likes appreciated! *This Date comes after this Event! Please read it first~

I've heard many stories about the ocean, but I've never actually gone and understood the ocean.

And now, as I mulled over my new design that had "the ocean" as the theme, Osborn had suggested bringing me to the Oceanarium.

❖☆———————————★❖

Standing in front of the long, winding corridors, it was only then that I realized… that the very ocean had been slowly unravelled before our very eyes.

Clear and bright blue light encased the entire area as huge fishes swam past overhead. Their scales glinted faintly in the light, reflecting a multitude of colour down below. And beneath our feet was the ocean, deeper, darker…

My footsteps faltered as an instinctive terror gripped me. For a moment, I didn't quite know what to do.

Osborn: Why aren't you walking?

MC: Oh… The corridor's too attractive, so I'm walking slower because I want to look at it longer.

The corners of his lips curved upwards as he headed towards me.

Osborn: Sorry, but I can't wait for you.

He then smoothly took my hand, balled into a fist from my nervousness, into his own.

He tugged gently, dragging me alongside him as we traversed the deep sea together.

MC: Thanks.

Osborn: Mm.

Then, I felt his long, slender, fingers slide between my fingers, domineering and powerfully intertwining our hands together.

Osborn: I much prefer this method of showing gratitude.

MC: …...

I gripped back, feeling the warm response from his palm.

❖☆———————————★❖

It was only after I passed the transparent corridor that my "leisurely stroll through the sea" really started.

My vision became brighter as colourful tropical fishes endlessly swirled around. It was almost as if we'd been pulled into a fantasy; of the wondrous Oceans in Fairytales

MC: The colour schemes of these tropical fish are really bold…

MC: Looks like I won't be going back empty-handed this time!

A faint smile played at the corner of his lips as he turned around to ruffle my hair.

Osborn: I hope the same goes for me too.

Before I could react, Osborn tugged me along, moving deeper into the depths of the oceanarium.

After a while, we strolled into a vast, open and bright area.

The ceiling in this area was inlaid with a huge transparent sheet of glass. The afternoon light shone in, spilling into the waters. There were a couple of huge fishes leisurely “lying” at the surface, basking in the rays of the sun.

MC: Fishes sun tan? But this one’s so huge and it looks really strange… What kind of fish is this?

Puzzled, I suddenly noticed the explanatory board that was partially obscured in the dark.

MC: Lemme see… this fish is called Hoo-

The words “Hoodwinker” came into view. I jolted, subconsciously letting go of Osborn’s hand as I darted in front of the explanation display board, physically blocking it.

MC: H-Headfish! This fish can play cat's cradle; can you believe it? Aha, it's really amazing!

Osborn raised his now empty hands, arched an eyebrow, and looked at me with a playful expression.

Osborn: It's pretty amazing, yes.

MC: Haha, there's nothing worth looking at here. How about we go somewhere else?

Osborn: Not gonna wait for this fish to do some cat's cradle thing for us?

MC: No need. What's so nice about watching a fish play cat's cradle? I'll do it for you next time if you want to see it that badly!

Brushing it off with a laugh, I pushed Osborn into another direction, unable to help feeling a little miffed.

MC: Why’s this fish called “Hoodwinker” of all things? Osborn has a competition tomorrow; that’s way too inauspicious!

In order to prevent Osborn from noticing anything amiss, I could only do one thing: Keep “self-sacrificing” till I divert his attention elsewhere… I purposely stepped on his shoelaces, telling him that fishes were flying above as I held onto the explanation display board, feigning dizziness.

My acting was clearly over the top and forced, but fortunately enough, Osborn didn’t seem all too interested in the “Headfish”, so everything proceeded smoothly enough.

We were just about to leave this area for good when a little boy suddenly exclaimed from behind.

Kid In Passing:  Mommy! This fish has such a weird name! Hood-

MC: Wait a minute-!

❖☆———————————★❖

A cacophony of alarm bells went off in my head! As quick as wildfire, I quickly rushed before Osborn,  jumped up, and tugged him downwards by the neck

Osborn was pulled down, his frame bent over mine in surprise as he was caught off-guard, my hands tightly pressed against his faintly red ears.

Osborn: …!?

It wasn’t till the little boy walked off with his mother that I slowly lightened up.

Osborn: You…

Raising my eyes, I collided with the depths of Osborn's clear and bright orbs.

He stared at me for a fleeting moment, his warm breath hitting the top of my nose, brushing against my cheeks in a ticklish manner.

I blushed, attempting to withdraw my hands that were still covering his ears, only for him to hold it firmly back down.

Osborn: So, are you covering my ears now because it's thundering in the exhibition hall?

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Y-Yes! How smart!

MC: The equipment up in the broadcasting room collapsed earlier! It sounded way more terrifying than thunder, it frightened me...*Coughs*

The words came out in such a rush that I accidentally choked on them.

Osborn chuckled, helping me pat my back before taking out a bottle of mineral water, unscrewing it before handing it to me.

Osborn: Have a drink. No rush.

Osborn: Must be hard putting up an act the entire way through, no?

MC: ...Huh!?

As I looked at him in astonishment, Osborn held my shoulder and turned me to face the other side.

Osborn: Look.

I glanced in the direction he was pointing at.

There was a lazy hoodwinker basking leisurely in the sun in one of the glass tanks of the exhibition area.

MC: Oh! It's a Hood...

Osborn: Yeah. Hoodwinker.

Osborn: But you can always call it a “Sunfish” if you don’t like the name that’s been put onto the display board.

MC: You…

Osborn: D'you think I'm similar to that dumb-looking fish?

MC: Of course not!

Osborn: Then, what are you so panicky about?

Osborn raised his fingers and gently flicked them against my forehead.

Osborn: There's no need to let your thoughts run wild. The one standing here right next to you now is none other than Osborn himself.

Rubbing my head, I stared at his usual devilish smile in slight disbelief.

MC: You already knew what it was called?

Looking at the unfazed smile on his face, I then realized that all my blatant efforts to cover it up were all for nought, and that I must have looked exceedingly stupid in his eyes.

MC: If you already knew it, then why didn't you tell me?

Osborn: Because…

Osborn: Letting you be all considerate about me like that feels rather nice.

The magnetic and deliberately lowered tone of his voice graced my ears, and I could suddenly feel my heartbeat pick up.

Osborn: Shall we continue?

Osborn instantly took my hand into his again, and the previous embarrassment I felt melted away, giving way to the faintly growing sweetness that started to well up from the bottom of my heart.

Where do I want to go next?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

[magnoliabloomfield]

Gally Imagine 7

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six

The days had been getting hotter and I wasn’t fairing too well. One day I stood up from weeding the carrot patch and my vision went white, then I woke up in the infirmary. I had a cool, damp cloth on my forehead and along the insides of my arms to help with the heat. 

Behind the fussing pair of med-jacks, Clint and Jeff, I saw Gally in the background looking worried. I was transferred from the track-ho team to the med-jack team to keep me in the shade and off my feet, so it was from the surprisingly gossipy pair I worked with that I found out what had happened.

Apparently before I’d even hit the ground, Gally had taken off at a run for me, that’s why he was the one to carry me to the infirmary than either Newt or Zart. That had set my stupid little heart all a-flutter. 

That fluttering got quite frustrated after a while however. I think Clint and Jeff were on some pretty strict instructions to basically baby the hell out of me and keep me from actually doing much of anything. I was stuck inside for days learning my new job, memorizing where everything was in case of an emergency and what to do for the most common injuries and hearing about the strangest ones they’d had before too. But all that meant I wasn’t out there where I could see Gally.

Newt had come by once to see how I was doing, but since I’d be relegated to the med-jacks I hadn’t seen Gally except for at meals. He seemed really dejected lately, even downright moody at times and I wondered what was going on, of course worrying that it was my fault somehow. I got my answer the day he almost died.

Well, that’s a bit dramatic, but honestly when I heard how close it could have been it really scared me.

I had made myself comfy on one of the cots and was reading the notes Clint and Jeff had made on treatments and signs of infection and what not because I was honestly bored out of my mind, but still wanted to be good at my new assignment. That’s when Gally came in.

“Gally!” I jumped up, forgetting all about playing anything cool and letting him see just how happy I was to see him. But then I saw why he was there. “Gally!” I yelled in a completely different tone as I saw the bloody tear in his shirt. “Oh my God! Come here, sit down,” I took his wrist and led him to one of the cots. “What happened?” I asked him as I zipped around collecting the things I needed to help him.

He gave a heavy sigh. “The Greenie was goofing off and the axe head went flying off the handle.”

He saw me bolt straight up, dropping some items from my over flowing hands, and added “Don’t worry, it’s not that bad.” he assured me. “I got really lucky.”

“Oh my God,” I repeated as I regathered my things, feeling shaky at the thought that Gally could have been seriously injured if it had hit him in the head or something, the very thought making my chest feel tight.

When I finally had everything piled in my arms and turned to take it over to him he was slipping his shirt off. He grabbed the back of his collar with his good arm and just yanked it off. My brain was overloaded. I was still upset about the accident that could have hurt Gally badly, worried about the injury he did get, I was now confronted with him shirtless and also miffed at him for just stripping in front of me like it was no big deal.

“Wow, ok,” I said as I came over and set everything down.

“What? It had to come off anyway,” he raised a brow at me while shrugging with his good shoulder.

“I can’t bend over, but I’m glad you feel safe enough to just strip in front of me. Honestly though, you should really change how you do things, you never know how the girl will react,” I teased him. 

He didn’t give me much of a reaction but I chocked it up to him being hurt and went about things. I soaked a cloth with watered down peroxide to clean up the blood and get a better look at the injury. I tried to be extra gentle, if I was honest it was the most careful I’d been with anyone. Gally kept his head down avoiding my gaze. After it was cleaned up I gently checked to see how deep the gash was that went from shoulder to chest at a diagonal.

“Are you ok?” I asked him, noting how he was giving off some major depressed vibes.

“Really?” He glanced at me and I saw his rose colored cheeks before he turned away again. “I’m in the infirmary with a big cut.”

I rolled my eyes. “I mean aside from the physical injury, are YOU ok?”

There was a pause as I got the iodine and dabbed it gently on the cut.

“Yeah,” he finally answered, quieter and not as sure as he usually sounded.

I prepared two special bandaids, securing them on opposite sides of the cut before using them to pull the skin closer together. It was second best to stitches and he really didn’t need stitches, thank god, I could not bring myself to sew up his soft, freckled skin. I was so focused on doing a good job, making sure it would hold up well enough to heal nicely and not get infected, I was startled when he spoke up.

“So, you don’t like being called Princess?” he asked, still not looking at me.

“What?” I blurted in confusion. “The heck makes you think that?”

“I heard you were trying to stop boys from calling you that,” he replied, bowing his head even further. I felt like I’d just kicked a puppy.

“Oh, that- yeah-well,” I stumbled on my words before deciding to just come clean. “I just like it when you call me that, it doesn’t sound the same coming from the others.”

I felt like I’d just given so much away with that but he didn’t even acknowledge me. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to cheer him up and get the old Gally to come back. It was easier to talk when I was busy with my hands and didn’t have to try and hold eye contact or anything, so I kept going even after that as I secured the last few bandages.

“I wish it was under better circumstances, but I’m glad I got to see you. I’ve been cooped up in here so long, I was starting to miss you,” I dared to say just to see how it would go over, I needed some kind of reaction.

“You shouldn’t say those kinds of things to the boys,” He stiffened up but still didn’t look at me.

“I’m not saying it to the boys,” I stated clearly and waited for him to look at me before I went on. “I’m saying it to you.”

His face seemed to crumple and he shook his head. “Don’t do that. Not to me,” he said as if he were disgusted, but I could tell there was an underlying pain there. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I-I’m not teasing, Gally,” I was taken aback. “I mean it sincerely, I wasn’t trying to tease you.”

He still shook his head. “I know what you’re saying about me, what you think about me-”

“Whoah, wait a second,” I interrupted, feeling upset now, not exactly at Gally but at whatever or whoever was causing some kind of misunderstanding between us. “What exactly am I supposed to be saying and thinking, and who the heck is telling it to you, and why the heck are you believing them? I think the only one who can speak for me is me.”

Gally seemed ashamed now, his ears red. The way he fiddled with his shirt in his hands and hunched over not looking up at me finally made me realize he was feeling insecure.

“Why would you miss me out of everyone?” He made it sound like a rhetorical question meant to put himself down.

I knelt in front of him. “Because you’re my friend. Because I like spending time with you the most. Because you’re funny. Because it feels like I know what you’re thinking just from the look you give me and no one else around here gets me like that. I like you, Gally. And you should take my word for it and stop listening to anyone who tells you otherwise.”

He still didn’t look at me. I saw his jaw clench though. I sighed and got back to putting his bandages on. “How’s that feel?” I asked as I gently ran my fingers over either side to make sure the bandaids had adhered properly.

I felt him take in a shuddery breath. “It’s fine.”

He went to put his shirt back on but I gently stayed his hand. “Leave that with me, I’ll have it cleaned up and mended for you by tomorrow when you come back to have your bandages changed.” I knew he valued useful acts of service the way I valued spending time with him.

He looked from my hand to my face and then gave a little nod, handing it over to me. He stood up and I tried not to stare at his very nice builder’s physique. 

“I’m sorry you got hurt, but I’m really glad nothing worse happened to you, that you weren’t hurt more,” I said to him, trying to sound more serious and sincere, less cheery uppy than before. 

He took a good look at me for the first time. “Me too.”

We both knew we were talking about more than just a cut.

Part eight

@poulterholland​ @anniemylennox​ @generallampdreamweasel​ 

[swan-of-sunrise]

Spellbinding (Chapter Eleven-Part One)

Summary: Asgard hosts a ball in honor of the visiting Alfheimian delegation, and (Y/N) is conflicted about meeting the Light Elves and the possibility of discovering her mother’s fate.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Eleven (Part I) October 16th, 2015 Asgard (Previous Chapter)

“C’mon, Loki, is that the best you two’ve got?” (Y/N) shouted over the thundering noise of Aurora and Samson’s hooves and glanced sideways at Loki with a teasing grin. After a week’s worth of horseback riding lessons and bonding with her mare, she and Loki were finally able to put their skills to the test in a ‘friendly’ race through the forests of Asgard.

Loki chuckled and leaned closer to Samson’s ear. “You’re not going to take that, old friend, are you?” The stallion neighed and picked up his speed. “That’s it!”

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) gripped her reins tighter and helped Aurora gallop around some shrubbery. “Aurora, I know that we’ve only known each other for a week but do you really want the males to win this race?” Aurora nickered, speeding up and coming in neck-to-neck with Samson. “That’s what I thought!”

“I never pegged you as the competitive type, darling!”

(Y/N) shot Loki a smirk and yelled back, “And I never thought that you would be a sore loser!” With that, Aurora sped past Samson and darted between two yellow-leafed trees, and (Y/N) let out a victorious cheer; tugging lightly on the reigns, she waited until Aurora slowed into a walk to glance back at Loki, who looked miffed while he slowed Samson to walk beside her. “I win!”

Loki frowned as he worked to catch his breath. “It was simply beginner’s luck.”

“Mm-hmm, sure it was, sweetheart,” (Y/N) ginned at the look he gave her as they guided the horses out of the forest. “What? It’s not my fault that Aurora and I bonded quickly!” Loki remained silent, his green eyes staring stubbornly ahead. “Oh, don’t be like that! Would you feel better if I gave some of the credit to Aurora’s trainer?”

“…It depends on how much.”

“How about…twelve percent?” She couldn’t help but giggle as she uttered the words and even Loki couldn’t fight the smile that was spreading on his face as he rolled his eyes in faux exasperation.

For over a week, she and Loki had been making up for lost time; they’d visited the city and all of the different shops it had to offer, they spent an entire day sailing both on the water and through the skies around Asgard and (Y/N) learned the hard way that navigating churning waves didn’t agree with her stomach, and Loki had also been teaching her how to ride a horse. Because she was mastering horseback riding so quickly, she and Loki spent a lot of time out riding with Aurora and Samson and exploring the forests of Asgard; Loki had even taken her to his secret grove to collect flowers for his mother and fruits for the horses. This week’s been a dream come true, she thought with a content smile, and there’s no one I’d rather spend it with than Loki.

“Once you’ve finished gloating, darling, we should head back to the palace for some lunch before we have to prepare for the ball tonight.” Loki glanced at her, his expression becoming a little uncertain as his green eyes filled with concern. “Are you going to be all right meeting the Alfheimians?”

(Y/N) sighed and nodded, looking down at the reigns in her hands. “I thank so. It’ll do me some good to try and learn as much as I can from them while they’re here.”

Ever since she learned that an Alfheimian delegation would be visiting Asgard for their bi-millennial peace treaty negotiation during their stay, she couldn’t decide if their impending arrival excited or worried her. On one hand, she welcomed any opportunity to learn more about her heritage and Alf Seidr but on the other hand, she was a little nervous about the possibility of learning of her mother and father’s fates. For twenty-six years, (Y/N) had assumed that her parents were dead and she eventually got over the fact that she’d never see them again, but when Loki told her all those months ago that her mother was a Light Elf from Alfheim, a small flicker of hope had grown inside her that perhaps her parents were alive. She was afraid that after months of quietly hoping that she might finally be able to meet her parents, she would only discover that they really had been dead for all those years.

I don’t even know how I’d begin to deal with that news, (Y/N) thought to herself before looking back up at Loki. “Whatever happens tonight, we’ll handle it together. I promise.” Deciding to change the subject, she said, “Truth be told, Loki, I think I’m a little more nervous about going to my very first ball. I wouldn’t want to wind up making a fool of myself or anything…”

“Darling, you could never; you’ll fit right in and I’ll be by your side the entire evening, I promise.” Loki held Samson’s reigns in one hand and held the other out for her to take, bringing hers up and pressing a delicate kiss onto her knuckles. “You and I will dance into the stars, my love.” (Y/N) matched his soft smile and a short while later, they reached the stables and were taking care of the horses as they playfully debated which Avenger could last the longest in a fight with Sif when Thor hurried in. “Good, you can settle our debate, brother; who do you think would last longer in battle against Lady Sif, Stark or Romanoff?”

“That’s hardly fair; Lady Natasha would simply befriend Lady Sif and both would team up to defeat Stark together.” Thor grinned as (Y/N) shot Loki a smug look and Loki childishly stuck his tongue out at her. “I came to inform you both that the Alfheimian delegation has arrived and that they seem to have brought their king with them.”

Loki’s brow furrowed as he poured a pail of water into Samson’s trough. “That’s odd, but then again, Alfheimians are known for their unusual actions…” He smiled mischievously at (Y/N), and she only raised her eyebrows imposingly in response to his teasing.

“Father also asked me to inform you that he wishes you to join our negotiations in the council chambers, Loki.”

Loki’s smile fell instantly at the mention of the Allfather. “…Oh, this should be fun; we’re going to spend hours trapped in a room with the Allfather and be forced to once-again listen to his idiotic demands that Alfheim should abandon their non-interventionism in favor of a completely unfair trade agreement that only serves to benefit Asgard.” Loki remarked, his earlier cheerfulness gone and replaced with annoyance and sarcasm. (Y/N) could tell, however, that his adoptive father’s invitation had taken him by surprise.

Thor frowned. “Loki…”

“Save it, Thor, I’m in no mood to hear another lecture about my attitude,” Loki grumbled. He turned to look at (Y/N) and the hard look in his green eyes softened a little. “I’ll see you later tonight at the ball, darling.”

“See you later, Loki.” (Y/N) stood on her tiptoes to plant a brief kiss on his lips before he turned and began walking out of the stables. Thor also wished her well before leaving, but (Y/N) could tell that the Asgardian’s smile was forced. When both brothers left the stables, she turned back to Aurora and leaned against her stall door with a sigh.

After learning about Loki’s entire past, (Y/N) finally understood why he was so angry with his adoptive father; Odin had kept his distance from her throughout their visit, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he thought her beneath him or because he was wary of her. It’s too bad because I’d love nothing more than to give that man a piece of my mind about how he raised Thor and Loki, she thought with an annoyed huff, her mind flashing back to all the heartbreaking memories her boyfriend had shared with her.

“I’ll see you both later!” (Y/N) patted Aurora and Samson on their snouts and smiled. “I have to go get ready for a royal ball…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, (Y/N) stood in front of her chamber’s enormous mirror and pressed the button to make her glasses invisible before inspecting her nearly unrecognizable reflection. She wore a stunning beaded emerald-green gown, its neckline cut low and its straps hung off her shoulders. The bodice hugged her chest, and layers upon layers of delicate gold-embroidered fabric flared out from her waist to create a full skirt. She chose to wear a pair of short green heels, applied only a minimal amount of makeup and her (Y/H/C) had been carefully styled with the help of Sif, who had suggested at lunch that they should prepare for the ball together. I feel like Cinderella when she got to go to the ball, she thought, twirling in a circle and giggling in delight as her shimmering skirts swirled around her legs.

“What are you laughing about over there?”

(Y/N) stopped twirling to look over at Sif, who was smiling bemusedly at her as she ran a comb through her freshly-straightened hair by the open window. She wore a gown similar to hers, but it was long-sleeved and silver, and the skirt wasn’t nearly as full. “Oh, I just realized that I feel like Cinderella.” When Sif’s brow furrowed in confusion, she elaborated. “Cinderella is the main character of a very popular fairytale on Midgard; she’s an abused servant in her step-family’s home and with the help of her fairy godmother, she gets to go to a ball and winds up meeting the prince, and then…well, to make a long story short, they fall in love and live happily ever after.”

“I seem to recall a story similar to that from my own childhood, but doesn’t the prince feed the step-family to a rampaging dragon?”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Um…I don’t think that I’ve heard that version before but in a different version written by the Grimm Brothers, both stepsisters’ eyes are pecked out by birds.”

Sif looked impressed. “Interesting…well, in any case, you certainly look like a princess. I’m sure that Loki-”

Just then, there was a quiet knock on the chamber’s door. (Y/N) hurried to the door and opened it to reveal Frigga, dressed in a glimmering golden gown complete with a tiara made of diamonds and gold. “Oh no, are we late?”

“Of course not, my dear, we still have time before the ball begins. I’m here with gifts for the two of you.” Frigga gestured to the large box in her hands as she entered the chamber. She set the box down on the table in the center of the room and opened it to reveal sparkling jewelry. “You both already look enchanting, but I figured that you might enjoy some added sparkle.”

In no time, the two of them were decked out in the most beautiful jewelry (Y/N) had ever laid eyes on. Sif chose not to wear a tiara but instead a silver hair clip designed to look like a vine of leaves, and she wore a simple silver and ruby necklace. Since she was accompanying a Prince of Asgard, Frigga insisted that (Y/N) wear a stunning gold and emerald tiara and (Y/N) picked a plain gold necklace to match. As the three of them left her chambers, (Y/N) caught a glance of herself in the mirror and was again awed by her royal appearance.

“Loki said that he’ll meet you here,” Frigga said once they reached the massive golden open doors of the ballroom; inside, faint music was playing while countless people milled about and chatted. (Y/N) nodded once, and the queen placed a comforting hand on her bare shoulder. “Just breathe, my dear. Everything will be perfect, just try and enjoy yourself.” With one last smile, she and Sif entered the ballroom.

(Y/N) fiddled with her hands, her earlier nervousness beginning to return so to distract herself, she thought about her aunt. She’d be treating this like prom if she were here, she thought as she glanced up at the ceiling with an amused chuckle. The mental image of her aunt holding a disposable camera and fawning over her and Loki gave her the comfort she needed, and she felt herself beginning to relax a little.

“You truly are an angel.”

She turned around to see Loki, a look of unabashed awe on his face as he stood several feet away from her. He wore a long-sleeved emerald-green coat with accents of gold thread and black trousers tucked into a pair of black boots. His raven locks were neatly combed back, making his face appear even more angular, and the green of his jacket brought out the stunning color of his eyes. He’s so beautiful, she thought to herself, her heart hammering away in her chest as he neared her.

“I think that’s a bit of an over-exaggeration, Loki.”

“Trust me, darling, from where I’m standing it’s anything but.” Loki stopped right in front of her, cupping her cheek with one hand and resting the other on her waist as he leaned down and captured her lips in a passion-filled kiss. After several moments, they separated and he gently asked, “How do you feel?”

“A little nervous, but ready. And by the way, you look very handsome tonight.” (Y/N)’s fingers traced the embroidery on his chest and she met Loki’s gaze with a growing smile. “You look amazing in green, sweetheart…though I can’t help but wonder how you’d look in purple.”

Loki hummed thoughtfully, his eyes darkening as his lips curved into a crooked grin. “In your color? Darling, does the thought of me wearing your favorite color entice you?” The hand on her face prevented her from ducking her head in embarrassment while the one on her waist tugged her closer to him. “There’s no need to be bashful; I’ll admit that seeing you dressed in my colors makes for a rather…appealing sight.” His fingers gently caressed her face before trailing down the side of her neck to rest on her bare shoulder, his tantalizing touch making (Y/N)’s breath hitch. He leaned down and just as she tilted her head up to kiss him, he placed a halting finger against her lips and grinned. “As tempting as you are, my love, we should head in before they start looking for us.”

“You’re such a tease, Loki!” (Y/N) playfully shoved her boyfriend’s shoulder while he chuckled, taking a moment to smooth out the skirt of her dress and fan her warmed face. “Before you distracted me, I was going to ask you how you’re feeling but you seem to be doing okay; I know that this is your first ball since Thor’s banishment…”

“I feel more at ease than I thought I would and as long as you’re by my side, (Y/N), I know that I’ll be fine.” With a charming smile, Loki bowed and offered her his arm. “My lady, would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you this fine evening?”

She couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics as she gave him a small curtsy. “Why, of course, my prince!” They both grinned and she wrapped her arm around his. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, Loki.”

“I had an inkling of an idea after seeing your impressive Netflix viewing history. Honestly, I’ll bet you’ve seen every single Regency-Era film and movie that the streaming platform has to offer…”

Loki led her into the ballroom and down the staircase, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but gawk as she took in the beauty and grandeur of it all; the room was lit with magnificent chandeliers, the floor shone and the most beautifully dressed men and women mingled and talked as musicians played a melodious tune. There were a handful of nearby Asgardians who examined her curiously as she and Loki made their way down the stairs, but she just raised her chin and continued walking until they reached a familiar face at the bottom.

“You look stunning, Lady (Y/N)!” Thor exclaimed with a bright grin. His long blonde hair was tied back and he wore an outfit similar to Loki’s, except his was dark red instead of green. “Green suits you.”

(Y/N) smiled and bumped him lightly with her shoulder. “Thank you, Thor, you look nice as well!”

“I welcome you, Asgardians!” (Y/N)’s head whipped around as the music stopped to see Odin and Frigga standing arm-in-arm at the top of the grand staircase. The Allfather was dressed in shining gold armor and held an ornate spear in his free hand, and Frigga’s bright smile lit up the room. A little ways away from the pair stood an extremely tall man, dressed in an ornate magenta tunic and a golden crown. He had straight golden-blonde hair, pointed ears and vivid charcoal-grey eyes, and his tanned skin shimmered faintly in the light; although his face was lightly lined, (Y/N) could sense that he still had strength and vitality in him. Her eyes widened a moment later when she realized who he could possibly be. “We are gathered here tonight to honor our guests, King Tarian of Alfheim and his delegation.” The ballroom erupted into applause as he gestured to the man behind him, who gave a small bow. “And we are here to celebrate the renegotiation of our realms’ peace treaty. May our two realms continue to flourish and grow as we support each other on the battlefields and one day, through the trade routes.” Loki rolled his eyes as everyone clapped again.

Frigga’s smile widened as she called out, “The ball shall commence with the first dance, led by Prince Loki and Lady (Y/N).”

(Y/N)’s heart began to race at the Queen of Asgard’s words; Frigga gave her a small wink, which in turn gave her the burst of courage to take Loki’s hand and allow him to lead her through the whispering crowd and onto the massive dance floor. Once they took their place, Loki flashed her a grin as he bowed and (Y/N) couldn’t help but return it with a smile and a wink as she dipped into a curtsy. When she rose, Loki clasped her hand in his and placed the other on her waist, and she clutched a handful of her skirt in her free hand; the musicians began playing a beautiful waltz as Loki started to twirl them around the floor.

“I thought that you always share the first dance with your mother?”

Loki smiled and murmured back, “After the peace treaty negotiations, she told me that she wanted the two of us to share the first dance of your first Asgardian ball and she simply wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

She smirked as he held her hand above her head and twirled her in a circle. “Now I know where you get that stubborn determination from.” By then, other couples had joined them on the dance floor and (Y/N) couldn’t help but marvel at the entrancing sight as she and Loki performed the dance moves that they’d been practicing all week; but while she was enamored with the scene around her, she felt a twinge of foreboding, as if something horrible was about to happen that would shatter the picturesque moment…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Eleven-Part Two

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular​ @itscomplicatedx​ @0-artemis​ @vivloki​

[queen-scribbles]

The Long-Burning Torch

For the @shepherds-of-haven​ Shepherds Summer event, the Ryn/Red muses latched onto 20′s Detective AU and would not let go. I’ve gone so deep down this rabbit hole there’s gonna be chapters, but the first piece works as a standalone. (title might change along the way, again bc chapters)

----

There were, in Xaeryn’s experience, two types of people who made use of her services. Both were driven by desperation, both tended to hit her doorstep late in the day. There were the belligerent ones, incensed they had to stoop to hiring her, a Mage, to solve their problem. From them she had to pull the pertinent facts of their case one begrudging sentences at a time. And there were the frantic ones, who had exhausted every other route and she was their last chance. Details poured so freely from them she had to pick through it to find what was actually relevant to the case.

The young man standing before her now, at the start of her day, appeared to fit neither of those groups. He’d knocked and entered without awaiting an invitation, seeming unperturbed by the eyebrow she arched at his arrival.

“May I help you?” Xaeryn asked, leaning forward to rest folded hands on her desk.

He shifted to fold his own hands over the head of a walking stick she’d wager he didn’t actually need and smiled dryly. “If your reputation is anything to go by, Miss Shrike, I certainly expect so.”

She gestured to the chairs in front of the desk. “Let’s find out, Mr...?”

“Riel Syndran,” he said, passing her a business card as he took the offered seat.

The card was hardly necessary, and Xaeryn set it on the desk with only a passing glance. “You run Whitestone Couriers, don’t you?”

There was the faintest twitch on the left side of his jaw. “The company is a guild venture.”

“And I wouldn’t be much of a snooper if I couldn’t figure out who truly ran a company as vital to the city of Haven as Whitestone Couriers, Mr. Syndran.”

He gave her a sharp smile. “Very good. I knew coming to you first was the right call, Miss Shrike.”

“Flattered as I am by your confidence” --and she was; she was typically the last resort, being first was something of a novelty-- “why don’t you tell me what or who you need found, and we can discover if said confidence is warranted.”

“I’m certain it is,” Syndran said, his gaze briefly dropping to the Shrike Investigations placard on the edge of her desk. “But you are correct. To business.”

And business, as he explained it, ran thus: Whitestone Couriers had been contracted to transport a collection of artefacts, originally from all parts of Blest, from their previous temporary home at the Conte-by-the-Sea museum to Haven’s Hall of History and Culture.

”How well-known was your being contracted?” Xaeryn interjected.

“It was something of a secret,” Syndran replied, flicking invisible dust off his sleeve. “Some of the pieces are quite valuable, so it was largely in hopes of avoiding theft.”

Hopes that had proven vain. They’d had an uneventful journey--blessed with good weather, even--made it through city customs upon arriving at Haven (checked everything after making it through and found nothing amiss), and proceeded to the museum. Upon unpacking the artefacts, however, it was discovered one was missing.

(Of course.)

The missing piece--an obsidian and bronze pendent thought to belong to a ruler in the Jalis desert pre-Autarchy--had limited monetary value, especially compared to some of the other items in the collection. (Those, of course, had been more closely watched.) Its worth was largely historical and religious.

“Enchantments?”

“None so far as we know.”

“I’ll look into it for you,” Xaeryn said with a nod. She loved mind-twisters like this. “I’ll need to talk to your people, as well as the museum staff, so it would be helpful if you let them know I’m coming. Otherwise my kind” --a twitch of her fingers set energy dancing above them briefly-- “aren’t usually given the time of day.”

“Of course. I shall do so.” Syndran stood and bowed. “I thank you for taking my case, Miss Shrike, and look forward to your success.”

“Two things, Mr. Syndran,” she spoke up as he turned toward the door. She waited until he paused and looked back to continue. “I will, of course, endeavor to find this relic on my own, but should I require an expert’s... knowledge of its history, say, is outside help acceptable?”

His nose wrinkled briefly. “If you must. But as few others as possible, and only those you trust to keep it in strictest confidence.”

“Understood.”

“And the second thing, Miss Shrike?”

She smiled. “One third estimated payment is due upfront.”

“Oh, obviously.” He returned the smile and pulled out his checkbook.

----

She made some good progress between that afternoon and the next day. Interviews with the caravan guards and those responsible for the artefact collection gave insight to their procedures--which were indeed top-notch; it was impressive someone had managed to find a weakness--and how long the pieces were out of their sight coming through city customs.

“Don’t see why that matters,” the pink-haired courier who’d been in charge of the caravan commented. “We checked them all when we got through; made sure everything was still there. Standard procedure.”

“When you say you checked, is this a thorough examination or just a glance to make sure it’s still there?” Xaeryn asked, glancing at the notepad balanced on her knee.

“There’s no fine-tooth comb involved,” came the somewhat tart and harried reply, “but we do look to confirm it’s there and undamaged so nothing undeserved can later be blamed on us. The company has a sterling reputation for a reason, Miss Shrike, and the guild would very much like to keep it that way.”

“Hence your boss coming to me instead of the police.” Xaeryn tapped her pen against her chin and skimmed over her notes. “I think I have everything I need, Miss Aerin. Thank you for your time.”

Aerin gave a sharp nod. “Of course. Anything to get this cleared up and the artefact found as quickly as possible.” She flicked a worried glance toward the notebook as Xaeryn slipped it in her handbag. “How much did you write down? A lot of our procedures are trade secrets; if someone should see...”

Xaeryn laughed and withdrew the notepad again, flipping it open to show the other woman the symbols that filled the pages. “Never fear, your secrets are safe with me. An added bonus of my own shorthand; no one else can read my notes.”

“Smart.” A brief hesitation. “No one? You’re sure?”

“Well, perhaps the friend who helped develop it initially, but I’ve tweaked it since then.” She flipped the pad closed and stowed it in her bag. “I think it would take a little work even for him. We worked it out to take faster notes in class, but taking faster notes also come in handy in my line of work.”

Aerin relaxed and nodded again. “I’m sure it does. Thank you for the reassurance, Miss Shrike.”

“Of course. Have a good day.”

“You as well.”

With the last of the days’ intended interviews behind her, Xaeryn headed back to her office. Now to review what she’d learned from all the sources together. She was confident she had plenty to give herself at least a couple leads worth pursuing, even if there wasn’t enough for a scry.

---

It took a day and a half of running herself off her feet for Xaeryn to burn through the leads she’d found without much to show for it. She’d been unable to track down the specific guard who checked that portion of the shipment, but his supervisor assured her such an important collection would have been treated with utmost care, seeming miffed at the insinuation otherwise. None of the drivers or other courier employees had noticed anything unusual once they passed through customs, no interruptions or suspicious folks in the streets.

Even scrying had fizzled out without so much as a vague semblance of where it might be.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Xaeryn dug her fingers into her short hair and glowered at the photographs of the pendent Mr. Syndran had given her. It was so small. So easily concealed. And so simple it would hardly draw attention unless you knew what it was.

She’d been forced to grudgingly admit her minimal progress to Mr. Syndran when he called for an update and it had her in a foul mood. This sort of baloney was not how she kept the lights on. It was time for a new tack.

If she couldn’t (yet) trace where the pendent vanished from, perhaps it would work better to learn more about it; figure where it might be going and get a solid enough knowledge of it she could successfully scry its location. Who would want it badly enough for the hassle of stealing from Whitestone Couriers to be worth their while? Looking into the pendent’s history and provenance seemed the next logical course. Just because Mr. Syndran had told her it was on loan to the collection from the “proper” owners did not mean said owners had told him everything, or indeed, that they’d told the truth. She needed an expert and knew just where to find one.

It had been long enough since her time at Solhadur Academy Xaeryn actually had to look up the telephone number before calling. As she listened to the line ringing, she wondered absently how much of a gentle scolding Headmaster Tevanti would give her for her first contact in more than a decade being to ask for something rather than merely catching up. She’d always been the type not to bother people unless she had to. That was, after all, what she preferred. And her self-reliance had carried her through quite a bit. But she was aware most people would differ from her on that point; Tevanti especially was fond of jawing, so he would surely have words for her long silence.

She let it go to ten rings before giving up. Revelation came with a glance at the clock; it was late enough there was likely no one around to answer. No matter. She could drive out tomorrow. The Academy was in Capra, that wasn’t terribly far. (Not for business, anyway.) Headmaster Tevanti wouldn’t mind one of his favorite students dropping in for an hour or so to discuss a relic from one of his favorite historical periods. She’d even engage in small talk, if he wanted.

Xaeryn smiled to herself and locked both the photographs and her notepad in one of the desk drawers. If that was her plan for tomorrow, she should turn in early, make sure she was well-rested. Time for a trip down memory lane.

---

The morning was uneventful, aside from the troublesome discovery she’d left her office unlocked all night. She was normally more attentive than that, even being on a higher floor. But nothing was disturbed or missing, so Xaeryn shrugged it off and got on with her day.

If she selected her wardrobe with a more critical eye than usual, well, she wanted to look professional. Headmaster Tevanti had been a wonderful mentor, and she wanted to show how far his encouragements about using her bright mind and sharp eye had carried her.

(She wondered, briefly, as she pulled on the royal blue skirt and its matching blouse, accented in deep golden-yellow, if she would see any other familiar faces. But she shook off the warmth of the thought; they’d all scattered to the winds after graduation. Getting to see Tevanti would be enough.)

Satisfied with her ensemble, and needing to fill some time before she left, Xaeryn sat at her desk with her notepad and transcribed everything she knew about the missing pendent(not much), along with questions to ask. She picked out the best of the photographs from Mr. Syndran, just in case, and sighed as she looked at the clock. She’d still be a tad early for it to be polite, especially just dropping in out of the blue, if she left now.

So I’ll drive at a leisurely pace, she argued to herself. Take my time. Allowing a buffer in case there’s trouble along the way is only wise. God in heaven, she wished she could figure why she had worse jitters about this than some dates she’d gone on. “Oh, this is ridiculous,” she muttered to the empty office.

She locked the remaining photographs back in her desk, slipped the chosen one and her notepad in her handbag. After a moment’s internal debate, she slipped one of her stiletto knives down in her boot as well. Solhadur was far from dangerous, but it was prudent to have some measure of protection when traveling alone. She grabbed a hat on her way out the door--which she made certain to lock this time--and had it securely on her head by the time she reached the car.

----

Despite her efforts to make it a leisurely drive out to Capra, and weather that was perfect for that goal, Xaeryn still found herself standing in the entrance hall of Solhadur Academy at an earlier hour than would usually be considered polite for impromptu business meetings. She debated walking the grounds for a while, revisiting some memories from her time here, but decided simply apologizing for her early arrival was the better course of action.

With a final steadying breath and running one hand down her blouse and skirt to chase away wrinkles, Xaeryn headed for the reception desk. She smiled at the young woman behind it. “Good morning.”

The receptionist blinked, seeming mildly taken aback by how far up she had to look to meet her visitor’s eyes. “Morning, miss. Office hours don’t start until ten-”

“Oh, I’m not a student here,” Xaeryn said with a laugh. “At least, not anymore. And I do apologize for the early appearance, the drive out went much faster than anticipated.”

A brow twitched at that. “And what is it that brings you to Solhadur, miss...?”

“I’m doing research on a selection of artefacts and haven’t been able to turn up much on one.” It was barely a lie; she had read a bit on the other exhibition pieces, even if the pendent was the only one she needed to go deeper. “It’s from a period I know is of particular interest to the headmaster, so I was hoping to speak to him for a while, see if he could help.”

The receptionist pursed her lips. “Former student, you say?”

Xaeryn nodded. “If he’s busy first thing, I don’t mind waiting.”

““No, actually, being early is smart,” the receptionist said with a light laugh. “His hours are more full at the later end of things. This would be the best opportunity if you want some of his time.” She glanced over Xaeryn once more, then nodded. “You can go up. Third door--”

“On the left. I remember,” Xaeryn finished. “Thank you.”

“You might actually beat him there,” the receptionist laughed. “He isn’t always punctual.”

“I remember that, too,” Xaeryn returned with a grin. “Like I said, I don’t mind waiting. It’ll be good to see him again, few more minutes won’t hurt.” She toyed with one of her earrings as she headed up the stairs, steps lingering and heavy with nostalgia.

It was almost exactly as she remembered. A few portraits replaced or rearranged, new photographs from after she left. New name placards outside the doors she passed. The headmaster’s office door was closed, and a light inquiring rap of her knuckles brought no response.

Looks like she was right, Xaeryn thought with a smile, leaning against the chair outside the office to wait. Her gaze drifted to the high ceiling, following the details of familiar carvings to the scenes painted on the ceiling itself. Slightly faded from what she remembered, but that was to be expected after a decade--

“Xaeryn?!” The voice, still familiar even after years apart, sounded like he’d seen a ghost.

Her heart lurched in her chest and she’d spun around before the impulse to do so had even fully registered, his name tumbling from her lips unprompted in return. “Red?!”

He crossed the remaining distance between them in just a few strides(God, he’d gotten taller, how was that even possible?), barely remembered to set the books he carried on the chair before wrapping her in a hug.

Xaeryn didn’t even flinch, and only just managed to keep her grip on her handbag as she hugged him back. He still smelled of old books and ink and sunshine and she smiled at the memories it stirred.

Liefred Antiqua, her seatmate in any classes they shared and best friend regardless of how many they didn’t for the entirely of her time at Solhadur. Friendly, charming, and just as fond of books as he was people. (The nights they’d spent pressed shoulder to shoulder reading in the library were still among her favorite memories.) Between his warm nature and classic good looks, he’d had half the student body swooning  after him, and yet despite the sharp contrast to Xaeryn’s more reserved and self-reliant bent, they’d still spent most of their time together. Their friendship was the strongest of the few she’d formed at Solhadur, and Xaeryn valued it immensely.

(Too much to risk on anything like admitting when the sight of his smile sent something that was definitely not friendship fluttering in her chest. It was just a crush, it would go away.)

( And then it didn’t.)

They’d both had plans to travel after graduation, and she couldn’t count on all her fingers combined the number of times she’d almost suggested they do it together. But in this one thing, she never could quite summon the nerve. And before she knew it, her departure date had arrived and they were hugging farewell, and come with me wouldn’t unstick from her throat. After a few months’ silence stretched between them--both traveling and unsure where the other might be, obviously--she’d resigned herself to their paths never crossing again, much as the thought hurt.

And yet here he was.

All the memories flew through her mind in the few seconds their hug lasted, and had a lump starting in her throat by the time they parted.

“Wonderful as it is to see you,” Red began as he stepped back to reclaim his books and run a glance over her, “what are you doing here?”

Xaeryn cleared her throat as she returned the apprising glance with one of her own. He still looked practically the same. A few inches taller, shoulders a bit more broad, and an attempt had been made to tame his bright red hair. It had only achieved partial success, and combined with the warm glint in his green eyes, he still was the same Red she knew. (The same Red she’d been more than a little in love with, even if she’d never dared the risk of admitting it.)

“I’m doing research,” she said, reaching up to tug the back brim of her hat as she glanced at the office door. “Into some artefacts. I wanted to ask Headmaster Tevanti about one in particular that’s being difficult.”

Red grimaced and fumbled his books. “Did you not hear, Xaer?” His voice went soft on the nickname, despite them being alone. Voices did carry in these halls, as they very well knew. “Tevanti died.”

She blinked, shock and sorrow curling in her chest. “Wh- How? When?”

“Not long after you left, actually,” he said, raking his free hand through his hair and tousling it out of respectability. “You know he’d been having problems with his heart. It gave out a few months after you left.” His brow furrowed. “I’m surprised you weren’t told when you set an appointment.”

“I didn’t so much set an appointment as show up looking to talk,” Xaeryn admitted with a soft, wry snort. “And I did simply say the headmaster when speaking to the receptionist.” She cocked her head. “Who would that be, now?”

Red smiled sheepishly, half-bit his lower lip. “Me, actually.” He shifted the books to one arm and opened the office door. Slightly nonplussed by two such major revelations in a row, Xaeryn was silent as she followed him in.

“I thought you wanted to travel,” was the first thought to pop in her head and then out her mouth as she looked around the office. It was spacious, lined with jam-packed bookshelves(He must be in heaven), and in a state of... corralled disarray that was so very Red it made her smile despite the news about Tevanti.

“I did,” Red replied, setting the books on his desk. “And I got to, at least a bit.” He tucked a handful of papers inside an open tome occupying one of the chairs, flipped the book closed, and set it on a side table so he could offer her a seat.  “I’d already left when he passed, so Professor Rumi and some others kept things going until I got back.” Rather than sit in the chair behind the desk, he shuffled a small stack of books onto the floor and sat in the one next to Xaeryn’s as he continued. “He’d... wanted me as his successor, Xaeryn.”

“That makes sense.” The words were out  before she could weigh them, spurred by the disbelief in his hesitation. “You’re brilliant, charming, and have a history with the school.” Her face warmed in the wake of being so candid, and Xaeryn glanced over at the large painting of Tevanti that hung on the wall between two bookshelves. He knew what he was doing. “You’re a logical choice.”

Red laughed warmly. “High praise from the smartest student in our class.”

“But far from the most charming,” she countered with a wry smile.

The warmth of his gaze didn’t abate. “I’ve always appreciated your-”

“Bluntness?”

“Straight-forwardness,” Red substituted, and was smiling when she looked his way. “An ability to cut to the heart of the subject is an invaluable skill.”

Xaeryn gave a faint shake of her head. “As is your kindness. But speaking of the heart of the matter...”

“Ah, right. You came here for a reason.” He pushed his unbuttoned shirtsleeves up toward his elbows. “I can’t promise to know as much as Tevanti would have, but I’ll certainly do my best to help.”

“Actually...” She snapped open her handbag to pull out the photograph and her notepad. “You’ve done a lot of research on pre-Autarchy history, so you might be able to help more than you think.” She set the photograph on the desk and Red cocked his head to look at it.

“Solimer’s torch...” he murmured, turning the photograph for a better look as his gaze gained that focus of a niche interest being whetted. (Which, for Red, meant she was about to hear everything he knew about the pendent’s history in too much detail to called a summary, and Xaeryn found herself leaning forward slightly in anticipation.) He glanced up at her. “Isn’t this one of the pieces in that exhibit about to open in Haven?”

She nodded. “That’s why I’m researching it.” She bit her lip but barely hesitated on the gamble of her next words. ‘Those you trust’, Mr. Syndran had said, and there was no one she trusted more than Liefred Antiqua. “It was stolen, and I was hired to find.”

His head came up, derailed from the growing ramble on the pendent’s history.  “Oh?”

“I’m a detective,” Xaeryn said, playing with one of her earrings. She laughed softly. “Scrying does give a considerable leg up to finding things. Or people. But that only works when--”

“You know enough about them,” Red nodded. “So this visit is for business, rather than personal.”

“Mostly, yes,” she conceded, resting one hand on his knee. I didn’t know you’d be here.  “But I was more than willing to chat with Tevanti” --there was a pang in her chest--”which most definitely extends to you as well, Headmaster Antiqua.”

His neck and ears went faintly pink as he laughed. “Surely we don’t need to be quite so formal, Detective Shrike?”

“Just ‘Miss’,” she returned with a laugh of her own, withdrawing her hand to instead fiddle with her notepad. “I work for myself, not the cops.” There might’ve been a little pride in her voice at the words, but it was well-earned.

“I thought you wanted to travel,” Red said, turning her own remark back on her.

“And travel I did,” Xaeryn said lightly. “For quite a while, even. But a girl does need a job eventually, and I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

“Or even a bad one,” he teased. “All kidding aside, Miss Shrike, I’m sure you’re a brilliant investigator.”

She smiled, chuckling at the playful glint in his eye even as her ears warmed at the praise. “Thank you. And on that note, what can you tell me about the pendent?”

“Right, right. You’re here on business.” Amusement lingered in Red’s eyes even as he turned back to the photograph. His sleeves started to slide and he shoved them back up again. Xaeryn very deliberately kept her focus on the photograph, not his arms--or hands--as he tapped one finger at the center of the obsidian pendent. “This was a protection...  charm, I suppose you’d call it, worn by the head of the Solimer tribe ages ago. Literal ages. Without refreshing my memory, all I can tell you is they were one of the few tribes whose wanderings regularly took them through the heart of the Jalis desert, and yet they always fared better on those journeys than the other tribes, which was credited to this pendent.”

“So it is magical?” Xaeryn leaned closer to look over the piece again, not that a photograph could do it full justice. This was a familiar position; the two of them bent over a shared project, and she hadn’t realized how much she missed it until that moment.

“Possibly?” Red shifted and his shoulder bumped hers. “ The story goes that on their first attempt to journey through, they saw a light, like a torch, keeping pace with them. It only showed up at night, and seemed far enough away from their caravan the chief felt it was too dangerous to let anyone go after it to see what it was. Their wariness at its presence, however, kept them vigilant enough they were able to see and fend off any wild animals that came after them, and it did nothing except travel their same path, so they let it be. 

“A couple weeks into their journey, as their supplies were starting to run low, the chieftain’s wife was out hunting and strayed far enough in search of food that the sun started setting while she was out. As the skies grew dim she could see the Torch, much larger than they usually did from the caravan, though it was floating away. Seized by good old-fashioned curiosity” --he paused to wink at her and Xaeryn bit back a smile-- “she followed the light rather than work her way back to camp. She kept after it long enough night had nearly fallen when it crested a ridge and disappeared. She hastened after it, and when she made it over the ridge, found herself standing by a waterspring the likes of which they’d never seen. When she looked around for the light she’d followed, there was no sign of it, save a black rock that lay at her feet. There were no other rocks anywhere nearby, so she decided this must be what had caused the torch-like light her tribe had seen. 

“She carried it with her when she returned to the tribe with news of water, and the Solimer took it as a sign of the gods’ favor. The chieftain had it bound in bronze” --he traced a finger along the lines of the coiled setting-- “to be worn as a way to hold that favor. It was passed from leader to leader and from all accounts they had far better luck surviving the desert than the other tribes for a long time.”

“Was that not likely just them knowing better how to handle themselves? If they traveled those portions of the desert more frequently, of course they were better prepared.”

“Maybe.” Red shrugged. “We have no firsthand written records from any of these tribes, just legends and history relayed orally. And a lot of the second-hand ones were... lost when the Autarchy came to power. From the way the stories run, after generation of favor from the pendent, it was lost when the Solimer were defeated in a skirmish over resources with another tribe. Their next several trips went so poorly it cost over half their number, and they wound up assimilated into other tribes within the next couple decades just to survive.”

“Sad,” Xaeryn murmured, though she wondered if the pendent’s loss had become a self-fulfilling prophecy if they believed in it that strongly. “And what happened to the pendent after that?”

“That’s all I know off the top of my head,” Red said sheepishly as he sat back, running a hand through his hair. “Anything more I’d have to research. To refresh my memory.”

“Oh, that’s all? Tsk, tsk, Liefred, you’re slipping,” she teased, then snorted a wry chuckle. “Of course, it’s more than I had.” She showed him the scant lines on a single page of her small notepad.

Red smiled at the sight of the shorthand and let the playful ribbing slide as he ran a finger over the page. “You tweaked it.”

“A bit, to make it jive better with detective work.” Xaeryn tucked the pad back in her handbag. She’d been so caught up listening to him talk she’d not taken a single note. “I’m certain you could work it out with a little time.”

“Oh, time-” Red’s gaze flew to the clock at the same moment there was a knock and muffled “Headmaster?” at the door. “Damn. Forgot I have a meeting.” He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Tribulations of being in charge. Just a minute!” he called toward the door, then, to Xaeryn, “I can look into this more in my free time, if you’d like.”

What free time? she almost asked, looking at the stacks of books and papers everywhere. But she swallowed that in favor of, “That would be lovely, thank you so much.”

“Any specific information you need?” Red asked as they stood.

“Anything you can find is welcome, but specifically.... What happened to the pendent after the Solimer lost it, who would have claim of ownership, if ownership is contested... anything like that. I want to find it, but part of that may very well lie in figuring out who would have most reason to steal it in the first place.” Xaeryn pulled out a business card and handed it to him. “So I don’t wind up nagging you,” she laughed. “You can call when you find something. The telephone’s in my office, but I live adjacent, so I’ll always hear it.”

Red nodded and slipped the card in his pocket. “I’ll try not to take too long.”

“Much appreciated. Also...” She grimaced slightly. “This is something of a secret; the Couriers don’t want it being common knowledge.”

“Understandable,” he said as they started toward the door. “Oh, don’t you need this?” He reached back for the photograph and held it out to her.

“Yes, thanks.” Xaeryn smiled and tried not to let the flutter in her chest when their fingers brushed as she took it gain purchase. She slipped the photograph back in her handbag as Red opened the door. Given the student waiting in the hall, she was the picture of professionalism--aside from the twinkle in her eye--as she nodded farewell. “Thank you for your time, Headmaster.”

Several things flashed through Red’s eyes, the brief desire to strangle her, a loud burst of laughter, an eyeroll, but he settled on a warm smile, wide enough his dimples just started to show. “Happy to help, Miss Shrike.”

She was still fighting a grin as she turned to descend the stairs, heart practically singing with warmth. Of all the lovely surprises... Regardless of whether she succeeded or failed, this case was already among the most worthwhile she’d ever taken, simply for bringing him back into her life.

[narcissasdaffodil]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @daisybarks

I’m tagging @kiki-the-creator @hopeshoodie @juggalohenrik @eskiix and @rennell

This is a little snippet from enough for you, which is my most recent WIP. This is the cheating fic, which I’ve likely referenced. This might not make sense out of context.

The other three piled into the back, Aislinn in the middle and the other two having window seats. Bobby handed the others their food and sat back with his arms folded. “Aw, come on! I wanted shotgun! And why is this car such a mess?” Bobby grumbled, his heart not fully in it.

“It was worse than this. We actually cleared it slightly to make room for everyone. And Marisol did say that one of us could take shotgun, and I let Lucas have it because he’s taller.” Hope pointed out once she chewed her mouthful.

“It smells weird in here too. Is there an air freshener?”

“It’s broken. Olivia forgot to replenish it. I haven’t noticed the smell if I’m honest, I’m used to it.” Marisol finished her breakfast, grabbing the empty bags and got out of the car, binning them and made her way back to the car, putting on her seatbelt. As she started the car, the sat nav came on and she left it there. She was going to try and rely on her memory, which might not be the best idea.

Once everyone plugged in their seatbelts, they set off. Marisol followed signs for the motorway until she got stuck in a queue getting onto the M4. It was crawling, and she opened the windows to let some fresh air in. The air conditioning only blew hot air and was next to useless.

As the car stopped, Bobby started rooting around at his feet until he discovered a bag full of ketchup bottles and another bag of chocolate, crisps, nuts and sweets. In addition to the two bags, there was a lot of sweet stuff sitting on the floor.

“Who needs an entire bagful of ketchup bottles? Eight bottles in one bag!” He studied the bag, slightly perplexed.

“Wait, what? So that’s where all the ketchup went! I kept buying bottles, and Olivia clearly kept swiping them. Eight bottles, really?” Marisol’s eyes widened at the mention of the ketchup. Bobby handed Lucas the bagful of ketchup, who studied it himself.

“Most of these are open, and half full. What’s the point of starting a new one when the old one is already half full? I was checking that side of the car as well, how did I miss this?” Lucas checked the bottles in the bag. “Some of these are expired too, quite the stash! One or two years out of date.”

“Eww. See what you can salvage, and we’ll bin the rest when we get to the beach. What a waste of good ketchup, I even bought Heinz! I can’t believe she was stealing it.” Marisol stared at the bag, slightly miffed. “That being said…I did use it for a lot of meals, I did have a little ketchup problem. It would vanish every single time we had an argument. Which means she was taking it then to be petty, likely. It’s a major pet peeve, she sees it as such a waste.”

“More of a waste is definitely her stealing it, as of course you’d buy more! Does the money she’s wasting ever come into it?” Aislinn asked.

“Nope, no way. She’s the type who broke her phone last month and had her parents buy her the newest iPhone in replacement. It wasn’t even cracked or damaged, so she let me have it. I changed everything over, her parents aren’t paying for my phone as well. It was going to go to waste completely otherwise, she would’ve just binned it.” Marisol laughed slightly at the idea of Olivia even thinking about money. The same person who regularly spent £400 on clothes per week and went on regular shopping sprees definitely wasn’t the type to care about the money she’s wasting.

She looked back at the road just as the queue moved and moved forward again. “Found anything else that is edible? There’s bound to be food hanging about.”

“Gummy worms, gummy bears, strawberry laces, Strawbs, this bag is all sweets. There’s a soft container of Pringles too, I wouldn’t touch those. There’s also unopened bags of fruit and nuts so I’ll take those out. Most of the chocolate is fine too, and the unopened crisp bags. This is quite the stash! Half of it is empty packets. Did she just use the car for a dustbin?” Bobby handed Lucas the dodgy snacks, who just bagged them with the dodgy ketchup.

“She pretty much used the car as a bin, yup. And she kept stealing the sweet stuff from the flat, so I had to keep hiding my biscuits and chocolate. Eventually we agreed that she would buy her own sweet stuff and quit taking mine. Guess I didn’t clarify that sweet stuff meant ketchup too, and she couldn’t just steal stuff in petty revenge.” Marisol explained. To her relief, the queue started moving quickly and she took advantage, getting onto the motorway without too much fuss. She wasn’t a fan of driving on motorways.

“The window’s not working again, could you please open it from your side?” Lucas asked.

Marisol opened both windows, the car was starting to get absolutely roasting. The feet smell was starting to get to her slightly.

“The windows in the back don’t work, by the way. Hopefully you guys are fine with just these ones open.” Marisol called in the direction of the back, the others nodded in response.

“Can we get rid of some of the mess at the beach? There’s sandwich containers, coffee cups and something squishy back here.” Bobby prodded the something squishy and took his hand away fast. “That’s definitely gum. Why has she stuck that on the back of the seat?” He pulled it off with a tissue, wiping away the residue.

“We can get rid of the leftovers, coffee cups and sandwich containers at least. Or anything that’s gone off. The rest of it, I don’t know what she wants done with it. She might’ve left, but it’ll seem a bit too final to clear out nearly all of it…” Marisol’s voice faded slightly and she bit her lip. “Look, I’m not overly pleased with the state of it myself. But I’ve got bigger fish to fry currently. I’ve had too many arguments with Olivia over it, and she made it worse to mess with me. I gave up mentioning it eventually. You’ve been complaining so much, it’s getting on my nerves.”

Marisol focused on the road ahead, chewing on her lip.

“Yeah, you’ve made your point. Maybe me and Lucas are just more used to it, but it’s been far worse than this before.” Hope broke in before Bobby decided to reply.

“Why didn’t we just split into two cars anyway? I wouldn’t have minded driving, and it’s a little cramped in the back. Driving’s not ideal, I prefer shotgun, but Lucas nabbed that. We could’ve split into me and Lucas in one car, and you three in this one.” Bobby grumbled.

Lucas stared at Marisol in panic, his eyes widened at Bobby’s statement. “That wouldn’t work. You barely paused for breath when we got lost yesterday, and during the first film of the Harry Potter marathon. I couldn’t handle it then, being trapped in a car with just you wouldn’t work.”

Marisol’s mouth twitched, and she struggled to not burst into laughter, putting on the radio instead. Classical music burst out of the speakers, and she jumped. Aislinn quickly synced up her phone to the radio, attaching it via a charging wire. She instructed Lucas in the front, who followed her instructions and in no time at all, a playlist replaced the classical music.

“Phew. I forgot Olivia always listens to Classic FM, on loud. She’s even had noise complaints, from classical music of all things. And, Bobby, if you want to drive on the way back, be my guest! It made completely no sense to split into two cars just because you couldn’t handle the mess.” The hot car was making Marisol slightly grumpy, and she snapped at him.

The car fell silent as they became absorbed in the music. Marisol and Aislinn had done far too much drunk karaoke, and she recognised the playlist from that. Hold the Line started playing and Marisol started singing along to it, forgetting the others were in the car. The energy carried through the car and lasted until the end of the song. She stopped, slightly breathless and blinked, wide eyed.

“Wow. I forgot how good you were at this. My favourite karaoke partner ever. Maybe we should try it again, but sober?” Aislinn said.

Her words stunned Marisol slightly, and she blushed. “R...Really? You think I’m that good? I doubt that, I freeze up on stage. Drunk karaoke is slightly different.” Yeah, no. That’s not happening. Not after that time in secondary school, when you auditioned for the school talent show and got so nervous that you were sick backstage, and your throat closed up while on stage. You couldn’t sing anything and tripped coming off stage on a loose shoelace and wiped out. To make matters worse, it was recorded and passed around the school until you were known for that. Your sister hated being associated with you as a result and it was so embarrassing.

Marisol fell silent, chewing on her lip and listening to the music. She signalled and moved into the left lane, ready to come off the motorway.

She focused entirely on driving and only relaxed when she got to the car park. She parked and let out a sigh of relief. “No sat nav needed at all, and not a foot wrong. That proves it, I’ve got a better sense of direction than Olivia.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone does.” Bobby pointed out. “Along with being better at being on time. I had to tell her a fake time for my birthday two months ago and she was still late.”

[dhiatzs]

Big spoilers ahead: My thoughts about Sorcerio and Odval during my Part 3′s bingewatch

Listen, I’m a simple woman. I see Odval having more screentime than needed, I’m instantly happy

when you’re a religious advisor who betrayed the crown but you’re still being nice to the prince

Is Odval kind of… like… protecting Zog??? He’s protecting Zog. Yeah it sounds like cruelty or shit but like. He doesn’t want to kill him and literally opposes twice when the Archidruidess wants to kill him. Please let the Seekers be the good guys. please. ffs.

The new edict about the clothes i’m crying

That slight hesitation Odval has when Derek asks him to play with him is like. No. I’m sorry but I decided in my mind that Odval probably has played with Derek at least once. You see how reluctant he looks???? He already did it once in his life you can’t change my mind.

“If someone else is plotting without us I will be very miffed >:(” Odval I love you with all my heart

the three-eyed binoculars ffs

can we talk about the fact. The Archidruidess clearly says “the sex bingo!”. But in part 1 episode 4 Sorcerio says “the elf. speak only in code” to Odval. Which means either the Archidruidess doesn’t remember the Seekers’ code or Sorcerio made it up and no one followed him in this. I don't know which option is the funniest

i like everyone in Dreamland but you guys better stop hitting Odval or I’ll kill you in your sleep

“Derek: I love you so much more than New Daddy! Odval: I won’t say that doesn’t hurt…” oh no

i don’t remember who on the internet said Odval and Sorcerio’s potential was underused but this new season clearly solved the problem

Sorcerio : *arrives at like episode 3 after Odval and the Archidruidess did all the work* Me : Ah yes, here comes the best part of this series

i swear to god i know Sorcerio’s part of the Seekers and of whatever scheme they’re doing but am I the only one with the thought he’s tourist in all these shenanigans? Like he wasn’t even around during the whole killing-Zog-and-Bean-and-manipulate-Derek thingy. This man doesn’t care

appears reading a book, which is a mood, also calls Odval darling I’m uehgdf

“But often the craziest thoughts are the most true, ya nutloaf<3″

basically does for Odval what Odval did for him in part 1 (aka reasuring him like “nah you’re not crazy ily<3″) which. Means their couple is balanced. What a goal

okay also I don't know how to describe whatever relationship Bean and Odval have, like “I don’t trust you but I work with you and I tolerate you”, but it gives me life.

I’M SORRY ARE THEY FOLLOWING A COUPLE THERAPY I’M LITERALLY CRYING 

IT’S BEEN LIKE TEN MINUTES SINCE SORCERIO’S BACK AND THEY HAVE LIKE 0 TIME, THEY’RE GAYER THAN IN THE PREVIOUS SEASONS

the fact odval knows Sorcerio would mix up the pages>>>>

“odval never had the nerve” I’ve got this trope I love about coward villains, villains who can’t be described that much as villains and villains who are more okayish than other villains and Odval fulfil this trope. Sorcerio does as well but like. I wasn’t ready for Odval to be in that trope too. 

DID ODVAL JUST SAVE BEAN’S LIFE. CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT. WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THAT

sorcerio says “wink” instead of actually winking, this old man is a blessing in so many levels

i call sorcerio and odval being at the window near the throne room a date. Don't @ me

i also call sorcerio and odval being in the stairs while Oona and Bean are on drugs a date. Don’t @ me

are they... like... working to fix the curse. are they trying to help. istg if it’s what they’ve been doing all along i’ll be so happ 

they…. did they already went to flea markets. is what “antiquing” refers to. are there flea markets in this universe. probably but like. i was joking before but going to flea markets together is an actual date i’m not sorry

i also call sorcerio and odval eating chicken together in a room a date, don't @ me still

everytime Sorcerio calls Odval “Oddie” my mood of shipping them gets stronger

“You can trust us” “Wink”

When you don’t know what a prognosis is but you still wear these Glasses™️ 

“This is a job for a wizard of exceptional power. So I’m out”. I. Freaking love him.

I- did he go to college

did he OVERWORK in COLLEGE

A WITCH FROM A NEAR KINGDOM KNOWS HIM???? AND KNOWS HE’S INCOMPETENT???????

excuse me that’s so many information about Sorcerio in like so little time

“once the dumbest person in the room has spoken, we can go on” “.... what just happened? :(”

*me having a very quick panic moment when Zog almost kill him like seriously I like ONE stupid wizard in this castle, I know he’s a traitor and all but Don't you Fucking dare hurting him

also fuck the dummy who hit Odval. bitch

[bisexual-inuyasha]

Xingese Gold

Prompts: pining/hands/nature. “Please just hate me already.”

Wrap your arms and hold me still

I don't wanna think about what I will

Speak in tones that I can't hear

And tell me how no one knows anything in here

-- Jade Bird “What Am I Here For”

A young boy with black hair and dark eyes sat in his mother’s field. His face was serious, mouth twisted into a frown. He was a very stern child, hair pulled severely back into a bun.

For most kids his age, the object of their concentration would be something colorful and loud. Or maybe even ants crawling along the dirt or the dried out carcass of a worm. For this child, scrawny and tired, it was the flowers. His fingers--nimble, gentle, fleeting like tiny birds--brushed over the golden strands. Petals remained safely caged behind spindly stamen. His pants were soaked at the knees, his bare feet covered in broken grass and mud. 

His mother had taught him about these flowers. It couldn’t have been more than a month ago, after a similar heavy bout of rains. The lesson came after the worst news in his young life. She had died only a few days later, protecting him from one of his brothers from another clan. Forty one siblings would be easier to kill than forty two. He’d written the name down in a book, tucked that book into his shirt, and watched his mother be buried in the only silk his clan could muster. It had not been a good season.

She had called these flowers Xingese gold. According to her, they were the only flowers of their kind in all the world. Other places had yellow, red and white. But only the Yao clan from Xing had golden spider lilies. They were proof, she’d said, that he was meant to ascend to the throne. Only the Emperor could wear gold, after all.

He glanced around the field and  rocked back on the balls of his feet to get a better look. When he was sure the coast was clear, he plucked a flower and tucked it into the middle pages.

The list of the names in the book grew longer as more and more clans fell to assassination attempts. His mother’s children, his half-siblings, resented and revered him as their downfall and their only possible salvation. For many years, he had no true friends.

And then Lan Fan found him, visiting the now overgrown field, plucking Xingese gold. And she swore, for the price of a single flower, she would protect him. Her hands were clean and her clothes neat when he took him to the humble house she lived in. Her grandfather’s face was hard. His lessons were harder. But his kindness reminded Ling of a childhood wrapped and buried in silk. And with the old man’s guidance, and Lan Fan’s friendship, Ling’s body hardened into a weapon.

His personality sharpened like a knife, quick and cutting and so unassuming.

But it was his instincts that set him apart. He lived with his finger on the pulse, twisting around the existence of others like a hesitant snake. Curious and fleeting, never lingering long, taking only what he needed.

And this is how Ling Yao became a teenager who crossed the desert, determined to find the key to immortality. 

**Amestris, before the end of the world.**

Ling lay on hot tiles, tapping his toes against the burning roof. He was waiting for the right time to drop through the open window. This golden haired alchemist was well known around this country for his search for the philosopher’s stone. The philosopher’s stone was well known for being the only alchemical way to achieve immortality. If Ling believed in fate, he’d almost think they were meant to find each other. 

That wouldn’t do right now.

Ed had all the cards. Every scrap of information Ling wanted existed behind those golden eyes. Whatever Ed didn’t know about the philosopher’s stone, he knew how to find. Ling sensed that maybe, this stone and Ed’s life, were intrinsically linked. Linked in a way far more certain than fate.

Al left the room. The metal man had taken to leaving when he could tell Ed needed to rest. It was less lonely for him to spend those hours exploring the city. Or at least that was the reason Al gave. But it didn’t take the dragon’s pulse to see that Edward Elric was thinning out.

Not physically. His body was fit as ever, though no taller for having increased his intake. But Edward himself seemed more and more distant. Al may be afraid of disappearing inside his armor, but Ed was disappearing into himself. The golden hair alchemist was becoming lost in a maze of problems and responsibilities that seemed to grow new walls and corridors every day. Ling had his own knots to untangle. He couldn’t help lead Edward out of his.

“I wasn’t sure I’d get the chance to talk with you.” Ling slid through the window, grinning. 

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Ed’s metal arm was over his eyes. Ling had noticed he did this when he was too warm. The metal had to be cool against his skin.

“Do what? You can’t even see me.” Ling sidled down onto the couch. Ed’s bed was clear across the room. He could have sworn the set up was different when the boys had first settled into this room, but he wouldn’t complain. “Lan Fan and Fu want me to stay hidden for a couple of days, until Bradley loses interest.”

“What, did you get bored?” Ed snickered. “Or did they just run out of food?”

Ling patted his tummy forlornly. “Do you mean to say you have food? I do feel a little faint, now that you mention it.” He went limp, feigning unconsciousness. His stomach growled for good effect.

 Ed’s footsteps padded on the hardwood floors. The metal clunk of his foot was muffled by the sock he wore over it, but it was still an unusual gait. Distinct, and comforting. It had been a signal to Ling that he was safe, since Gluttony. Since he’d listened for those footsteps in the dark, and the blood. Ling opened his eyes and stared at the moonlit ceiling. Just the thought of Gluttony made him feel slimy. Filled his nose with the scent of blood. Suddenly his appetite was gone.

He still accepted the bowl of scallion chicken soup when Ed handed it to him and took a large spoonful. “Cold.”

“Yeah, well, that is what an icebox does.” Ed pulled his hand through his hair. “Still good though.” 

Ling took another large spoonful. His stomach clenched. He put the food down. He tried not to look revolted but Ed was watching him all the same. “Good, but maybe not what I’m hungry for tonight.” 

“Hm.” Ed tapped his fingers against his chair. His mouth was tense, body full of restless energy. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Do you ever think about how we’re just… kids?”

Ling waited for the horror to cross Ed’s face at what would usually be a difficult confession, but tonight seemed to be a night of honesty. 

“I haven’t been a kid since before I met Lan Fan. I don’t contemplate those kinds of things much any more.” Ling leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand. Ed was still in his black tanktop and work pants. He’d taken to sleeping in them more often than not. “What makes your mind so heavy today?”

Ed didn’t answer for a long moment. Outside, Ling could hear the never sleeping cars of Amestris trotting along the cobble streets. Ling followed the line where Ed’s hair met his jawline. It looked so different outside of the braid.

“I saw Al’s body. It’s just. So young.” Ed stood, pacing. Ling listened to the pad-thunk-scrape-pad-thunk of Ed’s steps. “We’re all so young. I can see it in the Colonel’s eyes when he gives me orders. I can feel it when Riza talks to me and there’s all this… this sorrow. Like she’s stealing something from me. Something I’ll never get back. And some part of me knows she’s right.”

Ling could taste the metallic stain of blood on his tongue. His fingernails still had some of Gluttony stuck in the beds. When he closed his eyes, he could still see Envy’s souls calling out to him, begging him to free them. “I’m tired, Ed. Have you been sleeping?” 

Ed’s eyes narrowed. His arms crossed. In a small, miffed voice he admitted that no, he hadn’t really been sleeping. “Don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“You’re too young to be contemplating loss of youth.” Ling grinned. It was full of too many teeth. “Come on, lighten up Ed. You probably just need a nap.”

“I don’t want to nap. I just. Want to feel like I’m going somewhere.” Ed flopped back into his seat. Ling’s response seemed to have deflated him. “I’m just trying to get back to where I was before I lost Al’s body. But what do I do then? Most people spend this time figuring that out, but I’ve just determined I don’t want to stay a State Alchemist.”

“That’s a good start.” Link chuckled, and despite his best effort, it was not as lighthearted as he usually managed. “Being able to decide you don’t want to do something is a luxury some of us don’t have.”

This was an unusual visit. Since Ling and Ed’s day spent in the belly of Gluttony, Ling had gone to see Ed whenever the sun went down and the smell of blood filled his nose. Usually, Ed gave away his leftovers and they snarked back and forth at each other until Ling fell asleep on the couch. The next morning, Ling would sneak away through the window he snuck in from.

Ling’s chest felt tight. The room was too hot. He didn’t want to think about lost childhood, lost time. He didn’t want to think about fate and choosing his destiny. Ed’s problems weren’t his problems. Ed was upset he hadn’t been utilizing his time choosing what to do after he inevitably succeeded in his goal of finding Al’s body.

If Ling didn’t succeed in becoming emperor, all of his clan's people would die. And whoever became emperor could kill a lot more than that. His success depended on a goal so outlandish that most people dismissed it as a childish fantasy. Success meant a long life of being more responsible for more people than he could count in ten lifetimes. 

A heavy touch landed on his shoulder. Ed must have been talking to him, but he hadn’t heard anything at all. 

“Are you ok, Ling?” Ed’s earlier anxiety was replaced by worry. Now that Ling had been pulled out from his thoughts, he could feel Ed’s other hand on his knee. Anchors to the present. 

Ling smiled. He opened his mouth to assure Ed he was fine and maybe he’d take a nap since Ed wouldn’t, but Ed was already shaking his head.

“You don’t have to do that.” Ed let go of Ling’s shoulder and leaned back against the couch. He laid his head back, staring up at the window Ling came in. “I don’t have anyone I can actually talk to either, you know. Everyone expects something of me.”

“I expect something from you, too.” Ling leaned back beside Ed. Their shoulders bumped into each other on the couch, skin against skin. The smell of blood receded. Ling’s stomach growled again.

“No, you want something from me. That’s not the same as expecting something of me.”

Ling turned to look at the alchemist, surprised. “Explain.”

“Winry expects me to keep her and Al safe, to keep all my promises and then return home. Al, of course, expects me to get his body back. And I will. I want to. He should expect it of me. The Colonel and Hawkeye expect me to be an amazing alchemist, but they also expect me to be ok. Compared to all of that…” Ed sighed. “Compared to that, telling you about the philosopher’s stone is just a conversation. Just me telling you about Alchemy and my research.”

“So you’re saying you would have told me about the philosopher’s stone without me blowing up Gluttony’s head?”

Ed scoffed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t feel like a badass.”

“I was terrified. I'd like to see you stick your whole arm in that thing’s mouth.” They both laughed. Though truly, Ling was terrified of Gluttony. And Envy. All of the Homunculi who had too many souls. He thought Ed probably was, too.

“Well, you certainly looked confident. And fast, too. You’ll have to teach me some moves. Maybe I'll finally beat Al in a fight.”

They didn’t talk for so long that Ling drifted into sleep. His side pressed against Ed’s. Their legs touched hip to knee. Ling could feel the jutting edge of the automail through Ed’s jeans.  To his surprise, Ed’s head leaned into his, stirring him. Ling turned to see if Ed was asleep and was greeted with a face full of golden hair.

Ling moved carefully. Ed was fast asleep. He didn’t even seem to notice Ling’s arm move to circle around his shoulders. 

The memory of the dark, and the blood, and the souls crying out dimmed. Quieter, until Ling could almost convince himself those monsters had just been a bad dream. He ran his fingers through Ed’s hair and considered.

They’d grown closer, since their run in with Gluttony and the desperate run from Father’s base below Central. Since his introduction to Ling, both Envy and Wrath had been relentless in hunting him down. And still, he came here. Still, he waited out the nights with an anchor that told him the darkness was safe.

“You know, I’m going to use that stone eventually.” Ling kept his voice low. He didn’t actually want to confess anything to Ed. Not while the shorter man was sleeping so soundly. “No matter how it was made, I can’t let all my people die.”

Ed didn’t stir. Ling hummed. A thought twisted through his chest. “It would probably be better if you hated me now instead of later. But I just can’t bring myself to warn you. I’m a selfish, selfish man.”

Ling drifted off again eventually. It was hard to sleep on the couch without ending up awkwardly wrapped around Ed or falling off onto the hard wood.

When he woke in the morning, he was surprised to find Ed still leaning on his shoulder, fast asleep. The sun flooded the window and suddenly Ling was back in Xing, in his mother’s field. Strands of gold spilled between his fingertips.

“Xingese gold…” Ling murmured.

“What?” Ed yawned and sat up. “God, your breath stinks.”

Ling snorted. “You’re one to talk.”

Ling’s face burned. Every time he’d done this before, Ed had slept in his own bed. They’d come dangerously close to cuddling. With Ling’s increasing dependency on his visits with Ed, he wasn’t sure how to interpret the new developments. 

“What’s Xingese gold?” Ed stood and stretched. 

Ling smiled, remembering his mother sitting among the flowers. He pulled his book from his pocket. “I’ll show you.” 

The flower was faded and fragile. Ling didn’t dare move the flower off the paper. “Only my clan in Xing can grow this specific shade. My mother called it Xingese gold.”

“That’s… random.” Ed shrugged. 

“Just a dream, that’s all.” Ling stretched his grin wide again. “Though, your hair is the exact same shade.”

Ed’s cheeks tinged pink. “Hey, about last night…”

“No one has to know Edward Elric thought I looked cool when I fought the homunculus.” Ling patted Ed’s head, a motion he knew the short alchemist would hate. Ed fumed, but didn’t shout like Ling expected.

“Just so you know, Ling. If you accept that stone, I’ll fight it out of you.” Ed turned, picking up a new set of clothes for the day. “And if it kills you, it won’t make it to Xing to rule with your body.”

The anxiety in Ling’s chest burst. Fear, anger, worry splashed around his insides, coating his thoughts with an existential dread. Ed had heard him last night. Had heard him and rejected hating him.

Ling climbed into the window. 

Edward didn’t look back to see him leave.

Besides, no matter how Ling felt about what Ed had said, they both knew he’d be back when the darkness came.