rhiannonskye-blog1

[impulse-regrets]

TBF, You'd look ridiculous no matter where you were shelved.

Alas poor Vermont Curry, Japanese style curry sauce mix.

You came from a strange land, far away, only to end up rejected on the candy shelf. Your flavor profile seemed exciting and exotic when picked up from the international aisle, but up checkout was regarded as the concoction of a madman.

The only favor your would-be buyer did you was placing you in the box labeled "This Saves Lives". Perhaps someone will see you there and decide that yes, you can save their life... from boredom of flavor.

RIP - March 2022

[sturniololoco]

could you write a sturniolo sister fic where matt gets a girlfriend and the sister is the closest with matt but the girlfriend is horrible to the sister and when she tries to tell matt he doesn’t believe her and they get into some kind of argument until matt hears his gf say something to the sister?

Sister In Law Gone Wrong

Sturniolo Little sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

Warnings: language, an annoying bitch?

Note: I'm so sorry if your name is Brittney btw

SLS/N's POV

Moving in with my brothers was exciting, but hard. especially when I found out Matt has a girlfriend.

In my eyes, no one deserves them. I always envisioned my brother's girlfriends, or boyfriends for Nick's sake, to be just as kind as my brothers are.

But Matt's Girlfriend was an absolute bitch. And I haven't even been there for three days.

-

It was my third day in my new home. My brothers have been helping me unpack all my stuff for the past couple of days, and we were finally finished.

I was so excited to be done because Matt promised me that we would go play putt-putt at his new favorite spot in L.A.

I was getting ready to go, throwing on some cargo jeans and a cropped sweater. I walked downstairs and Chris walked over to me, giving me a spin, saying,

"Damn sis! you look bad!"

I playfully hit him on the shoulder and covered my red face as Nick and Matt began hyping me up with Chris.

I walked over to the couch and sat down next to Matt. I was about to ask him when we were about to go when the front door opened and hells began clicking up our steps.

Matt's girlfriend, Brittney, walks into the room.

She walked in like she owned the place, throwing her purse on the table and laying across Matt's lap, covering half the couch.

"Are you ready to go or what?" She asks Matt, sassily, while pulling out her phone, opening Snapchat, taking a selfie with her tongue out, and then posting it to her story.

"Uh, we're going somewhere?" Matt replies, looking as though he has no idea what she's talking about.

"You're taking me to dinner, I'm hungry," Brittney says. "You will take me, right Matty?" She says, giving him a pout and taking in a baby voice.

"Uh, I mean yeah sure. Lemme get me keys." Matt looks at me guiltily as he makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing his keys. He quietly mouths I'm sorry to me as he walks down the stairs, following Brittney.

I give him the most reassuring half-smile I could muster before he's gone, and I hear his car pull away. I feel the tears well up in my eyes and emotion stabbing at the back of my throat.

But I quickly try to wipe them away as Chris comes and sits next to me. But to my surprise, he pulls me into a hug and says,

"I know kiddo. It's ok if you're upset, I would be too."

I press my forehead into his chest as he cradles my head, willing the tears not to come, but a few slip out. I pull away from Chris's embrace.

"I'm fine! I'm good, really! As long as Matts is happy I'm happy." I say, trying to move off the subject before my disappointment settles in even more.

Chris nods, giving me a sad smile as he stands up.

"Hey why don't I order pizza and we can play Monopoly?" Nick says, trying to lighten the mood. I nod, smiling. Might as well make fun out of a crappy situation I thought to myself.

-

After about 2 hours of monopoly, three slices of pizza, and a bowl of ice cream later, I was getting tired. I yawned and stood up, telling my brothers, that I was heading to bed.

"Sweet dreams kid," Chris says, ruffling my hair as I hug him goodnight. I then walk over to Nick and give him a kiss on the cheek.

"'Night!" He says.

"Oh, when Matt comes in, could you tell him goodnight for me?" I ask my brothers before going upstairs. They glance sadly at each other, then say they would. So I walked upstairs to get some rest.

Chris's POV

About 30 minutes after SLS/N went to bed, Matt walked up the stairs, throwing his keys on the table, and then flopping down on the couch.

"Wow. Nice of you to join us, especially when the one person who wanted to hang out with you has already gone to bed! Brother of the year right there!" Nick says sarcastically, saying exactly what I was thinking.

Matt rolls his eyes, and mumbles,

"Relax, I'll make it up to her" Matt gets up and walks to his room and shuts the door. I look at Nick and we both sigh in defeat.

SLS/N's POV

I'm awake early the next day, around 8:00. None of my brothers are awake yet, so I decide to cook breakfast. I get out our mini waffle maker and the Bisquick. I also decide to make some bacon and sausage.

Not long after I start cooking, I hear the front door creek open, and foot straps come from the stairs. I turn to see Brittney.

What a great way to start my morning.

She struts into the kitchen and takes a waffle off the stack, then digs through the fridge for the syrup.

"Is this keto-friendly?" She asks me.

I shake my head saying,

"Um, it's Bisquick."

She rolls her eyes sits down and begins to eat. She eats nearly the whole thing before pushing her plate away and saying,

"What the fuck is this shit? you think people will actually eat this?" She laughs at the disappointed look on my face.

"I can make you something else if you like," I say, being way too nice to someone I want to slap across the face. Before she can answer, Matt walks into the kitchen, looking sleepy and disheveled.

"Oh good you're awake. Can we pwease go get Starbucks Matty? She says in a baby voice. Matt nods and she practically skips to the car, leaving her dirty dish on the table.

Matt walks over and gives me a hug. He must have noticed something was wrong because he said,

"You okay? Your eyes are lookin' watery."

I look down and say,

"Have you noticed that your girlfriend is a little mean" But I instantly regret saying that.

"SLS/N! How could you say that! Just because the attention isn't on you anymore doesn't mean you get to say that about her!" H says, raising his voice, which he never does.

He spins around and walks out the front door, leaving me there in the kitchen. The tears well up in my eyes as I began to clean up breakfast, throwing away all the waffles I already made.

-

I didn't want to be by myself this morning, especially after the breakfast flop. I walk downstairs to Chris's room.

The door is cracked and dim light is coming from inside. I knock lightly.

"Come in," I hear Chrls's morning voice say. I enter the room to see him lying in his bed watching his phone. I walk over and crawl into bed next to him, snuggling into his side. He notices something is wrong the minute I lay down.

"Alright, spill it, kid." He demands

I told him everything that happened this morning.

Matt's POV

I get into the driver's seat, flustered due to my argument with SLS/N. I hear Brittney sigh, and I look over at her.

"Why are you in a mood?" She asks, giving me a pout. I run my fingers through my hair, and say,

"My sister is just being a little difficult is all."

I hear her scoff and let out a low chuckle. I look over at her confused.

"Yeah, no shit. She's such a little brat. And she can't even make a waffle right." She keeps scrolling through her phone as if she doesn't even realize what she's saying to me, SLS/N's brother.

"What the fuck did you just say?" I asked, feeling stupid for not believing SLS/N.

"You heard me, I said she's a brat." She replies, popping the gum in her mouth.

This was a new feeling for me. I've never felt so upset or mad. I remember all the times I let SLS/N down because of some stupid girl. I'm such an idiot.

"Get out of my car," I say through gritted teeth.

"What- but- Matty, baby c'mon, you know I didn't mean that!" She struggles to correct herself, but it's too late. The damage has already been done.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Car." I say, one last time. She flings her car door open and runs to her car, speeding out of the driveway. I quickly run back inside, trying desperately to come up with a solution to make it up to SLS/N.

SLS/N's POV

Still snuggled into Chris's side, I heard the front door open again and footsteps walking closer.

Matt peeks his head inside Chris's room, where we are. He clears his throat and says,

"Hey, um Chris, do you mind if I talk to SLS/N for a second?"

Chris looks at me and I nod. He stands up and brushes past Matt while he walks out of the room, mumbling,

"Don't fuck this up."

Matt walks over and sits next to me.

"I...I'm sorry. I should have listened to you over Brittney. I was stupid to think that my little sister would ever do that and I was wrong." He starts tearing up a little at the end of his apology.

However, I was happy that I had my Matt back again. I quickly give him a hug, knocking him back onto the bed. We giggle and laugh as we wrestle.

"And if it's okay with you, I'd like to make it up to you. How does putt-putt sound kid?" H asks, a smile playing on his lips.

"Yay!" I shout, standing up and jumping up and down on the bed, only to be tackled again by Matt.

-

That night Matt and I went on a little brother-sister date. We went Putt-putting, and Matt won both rounds of course. Then we went to get ice cream before heading home.

We laughed and danced to music in the car, happy in each other's company again.

Guys! School got canceled again tomorrow! I'll try and post some extra for you this weekend and finish some requests!

[pepsiboyy]

Could you do one where the boys are on a tour (in Australia maybe😏) and the reader gets like a backstage pass for her and he bff and reader is talking to Chris in the meet greet(earlier cause of the pass) and Chris seems to take interest in her so he slips his number in her pocket and she eventually finds and called the number confused and he picks it up and then after awhile of them talking back and forth Chris asks her out and they start dating blah blah blah (sorry for the in Australia maybe lol I just want them to do a tour here so I can meet em)

SAVE MY NUMBER.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: the triplets are finally having an abroad tour and the reader purchased vip tickets with their best friend to meet them. what happens when she finds a stray set of numbers on her postcard when she gets back to the hotel? warnings: cursing, use of y/n!! a/n: thank u for the request love <3 i hope this is awesome sauce !! i tried so hard to make this enjoyable LOLL but i think it may have come out ok!! <3 lowercase intentional !!

my fingers anxiously picked at my shoes with one hand as my other hand scrolled through instagram.

"come on, y/n, aren't you excited!?" my best friend, harper, exclaimed as she gripped my shoulder and shook me rapidly.

with a soft nod and a small chuckle, i nodded as i locked my phone and let it fall into my lap. "of course i am. i'm just tired of sitting here."

we had been sitting in the sun on the side of the venue in line for the last hour and a half. it was that point in the day where the sun was beating directly onto us.

i had managed to get my best friend and i some tickets to the triplets' tour with the meet and greet pass. counting down the days was grueling, but we finally made it and the hardest part was now. waiting outside to be let into the building.

"it'll be worth it. who even cares?"

i nodded softly as i looked her up and down. she was decked out in purple, some purple stars drawn on her cheeks under her eyes and some purple cargo pants with a let's trip tee and some white air forces.

i, personally, was drowning in orange. with an orange crop top and deep gray ripped jeans, my outfit was topped off with orange nike high top dunks and an orange belt. my friend had helped me out with the orange stars, mine on the opposite side from harper's.

"y/n, the line is moving!"

i turned my head to harper, being ripped from my thoughts before quickly standing to my feet and moving up in line.

the line moved slow, but it was something.

we still had a long way to go.

-

the line for the meet and greet felt like it was forever, but as we got closer, i felt like no time had passed at all. i could see them every once in a while through the lit cloth between the line and the boys, and my eyes shifted to harper. "dude, we're almost there." i chuckled, trying to keep myself as calm as possible as harper made noises i didn't even know were humanly possible.

"y/n, i don't know what to do or say, i think i might shit myself."

i slammed a hand over harper's mouth and let out a cackle, shaking my head. "shh, say that less loud." i scoffed and before i knew it, harper was next in line.

my hands toyed with the orange belt that helped my jeans hug my hips, my eyes glued in front of me as i watched the three boys.

the three boys i watched at first every once in a while when they appeared on my for you page, but i quickly became a huge supporter of the triplets, and they were somewhat a coping mechanism for me when things were hard.

and now i'm meeting them.

"next!"

i shot harper a smile and tapped her shoulder. "you got it!" i smiled brightly and waved as she approached matt.

i felt a lump develop in my throat. this was bad.

it wasn't a crying lump, but an anxious lump. unfortunately, when i get nervous, i can't help but ramble and yap.

"next!"

no way time flew by that fast. as i approached matt, i swallowed and smiled brightly as i felt like each step that i took was in slow motion.

matt's arms opened and i quickly stepped towards him and hugged him tightly. "hi, matt," i breathed, taking a deep breath as the reality of the situation began to settle.

"what's your name?" he asked softly, picking up his photo and signing it quickly.

"oh, it's y/n," i breathed, the smile on my face so wild you could have probably found me in a horror movie.

"nice to meet you, y/n. i hope we haven't kept you waiting too long?" he questioned, and i quickly shook my head.

"i'm just happy you guys are here," i breathed and smiled brightly at him before my expression fell. "oh my god a picture-" i scrambled to reach and get my phone from my back pocket, opening my camera and lifting it up.

two bright smiles later, matt pulled me into one more hug and smiled brightly, while i wished him luck on the rest of the tour.

i turned to see nick and smiled brightly, pulling him into a deep hug. i always had a theory that nick gave the best hugs of the three. so far, my theory was correct.

"hi, friend!" nick cheered, signing his card and smiling at me. "your star makeup is so cute, your friend had the same thing, no?"

i smiled brightly and nodded, biting my lip. "yeah, she did them for me actually! she's the best." i smiled and pulled out my phone.

"i'm so glad you guys could come." he stated as he wrapped an arm around me and held up a thumbs up in the camera.

i smiled brightly as i pulled away and gave him one last hug. "you guys are amazing. i just thought you should know, i'm proud of you guys. good luck tonight!" i told nick as i pulled from the hug. nick shot me a soft and quick thank you as i was rushed off to the final triplet.

christopher sturniolo.

i felt my entire being crumble the moment i took a few steps forward.

of course, i loved all three of the triplets with everything i had.

but chris.. i related to him in many ways and always found my eyes gravitating to him while watching their videos. he's a silly guy, and it doesn't help that i find him insanely attractive between the three.

"you in there?"

my eyes shot to chris as i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding.

i literally just spaced out in front of chris, who waved his hand in front of me to snap me out of my trance.

not to mention i'm decked out in his color.

"hi!" i squeaked, and he pulled me into a hug.

i bit my lip as i hugged him tightly, taking a deep breath.

the hug lasted for a little longer than needed, but i wasn't complaining.

not sure if it's because it's chris or not, but i think nick has some competition for best hug.

"i like your outfit," chris stated softly as he pulled away from the hug. i smiled brightly at him, and i couldn't tell if i was gaslighting myself or if he licked his lips while looking at my orange self.

"thanks, i don't really wear much orange," i stated and i felt my face heat up.

"it's definitely your color more than it is mine. consider wearing it more often?" he asked, writing on the card and pausing before deciding to hand it to me. "wanna take a selfie?"

i nodded quickly and shakily took out my phone and began to raise it, but chris carefully took it from my hands and raised it himself, wrapping his other arm around my shoulders softly.

he took about four photos and handed me the phone back.

after signing the card, taking a little longer than usual, he looked me up and down one more time.

we stood there for a few moments, simply looking at each other and i noticed my friend waving at me from behind chris, about ten feet away.

"you're gonna do great tonight," i quickly said to him, and he simply smiled at me and nodded, running his fingers through his hair to adjust his bangs.

holy fuck, this guy isn't real.

"i'll do great because you came. thanks for coming." he stated softly, and brought me into a tight hug.

i bit my lip hard as i hugged him back, taking in a deep breath.

-

the night went incredibly well. the show was enjoyable with the games they all played, and i told harper about the interaction i had with chris.

harper was in the shower. i had just gotten out, my pajama pants and small black tshirt hugging my body perfectly as i laid against my bed in the hotel.

i turned to the postcards, smiling brightly as i took them into my hands and admired them. i turned them in the light to look at the layered marker, holding them towards the lamp. as i got to chris's, i noticed some writing on the back through the light and my heart jumped out of my chest.

i threw myself up off the mattress and flipped the postcard over, feeling my heartrate pick up at the phone number written against the back.

"dude, the shampoo in there is awesome. you weren't kidding." harper stated as she dried her hair in a towel as she sat in front of me, also in her pajamas. "you okay?"

i looked at her and slowly held up the card, pointing at the number.

"holy fuck, is that..?" harper trailed off, and i bit my lip.

"oh my god, i need to call it." i stated as i searched for my phone under the comforter, quickly retrieving it and dialing the number.

i put my phone on speaker as i looked at harper, my leg bouncing anxiously.

"hello?"

my heart sank.

"h- hello?"

i mentally cursed at myself for stuttering.

"who is this?"

"uhh, it's y/n, i found this number on the back of my postcard-" i was quickly cut off.

"y/n!" he cheered. "it's chris."

"are you fucking for real?" i whispered, biting my lip.

"yes ma'am." he chuckled, and i shook my head. there's no way this is fucking happening right now.

"i know it's late and you guys probably have jet lag, so i'm sorry, but i just found it-"

"it's fine, really, i was running fortnite with matt." he stated quickly, cutting me off.

i snorted. it made sense.

"well, get a victory royale ok?"

"for you, i will. save my number, i'll text you." chris stated, and i looked at harper who was in utter shock.

"right, yeah i will." i stated quickly, and hung up afterwards.

silence overcame harper and i before i bit my lip and we both screamed at the top of our lungs at the same time.

there was no way this was real.

-

my eyes were beginning to shut as the video of the triplets from a few weeks ago seemed to be watching me.

i turned to harper, who had fallen asleep a little while ago and blinked a few times when my phone vibrated and chris's name appeared on my screen.

a bright smile took over my face as i began texting him, and my night was made even more. somehow.

[minnielvrr]

hi💓 i saw that you wanted a scenario. maybe a challenge, or a competition, with lee skz ler skz, the one who can hold on the longest while being tickled, will win. like BTS did in this video👇🏻 https://youtu.be/IWD-9hUnLAI?si=KQoDCVywyIagiu9R

i hope you like it🎀

Composure

Lees: Skz Lers: Skz Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Hii~ Thank you for the request and I'm so sorry it took this long 😖 I honestly have no idea how I ended up writing so much 😅 I hope you guys like it! (hope it's not too long🥺)

Skz were filming a special episode, a little gift for Stays on their birthday. The staff had proposed a challenge of composure, where each member would go through a series of different challenges to see who in Skz had the best composure.

It seemed like an easy win for elegant Felix or Chan at first…but the chick didn’t feel as certain when the first game was announced.

“Each player will take a sip of water and try to hold it for as long as they can while the other members tickle them. You can only use the tools you’ve been given and be creative. Everyone will get 1 chance each. Good luck!” The staff giggled as they announced the final rule: “Only 4 members can tickle the player at a time to keep it fair.”

Everyone got flustered at that. Were they all so ticklish that only four were allowed? The rosy tints on the member’s faces only made the staff laugh harder at them. They played a round of rock, paper, scissors to decide the order.

Chan:

Chan giggled at the excited faces of his kids. Minho and Han were cracking their knuckles in a cute attempt at intimidation.

Seungmin drew a line across his neck as he looked at the leader with unfiltered glee. And oh boy, Chan was so in for it.

He sat down, suddenly acutely aware of every inch of skin that was exposed from the outfit he was given.

“Jacket off, hyung!” The kids called as Chan took a seat in the center. He already felt vulnerable, like he was surrounded by a pack of hungry hyenas.

Chan slowly took his jacket off, stalling as much as he could. That wasn’t such a smart idea though, as the kids only grew more feral the longer he took.

A sneaky hand wiggled down the cut in the back of his shirt and Chan squealed, jumping out of the chair with a shiver.

“Yah that’s cheating!” He spun around to face a giggly Minho who hopped away when Chan reached for his sides. “Just wait till it’s your turn you little menace.”

“You’re not exactly in a position to threaten me right now hyung,” Minho waggled his eyebrows at him, fingers wiggling in his direction.

Channie blushed, trying to keep still when he could swear that those stupid motions set his nerves on fire.

As soon as Chan had taken his sip of water, the kids dived in. A second later the timer started. Felix, Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin were chosen to tickle him and boy oh boy was it bad.

So what the staff had failed to specify was if the other three could help and Seungmin being the smarty pants he was, urged Han and Jeongin to each grab one of the leader’s arms and hold them away.

Chan almost spat his water when his arms were ripped away from where they were glued to his sides. Staring wide eyed at a smirking Seungmin for only a moment before the tickles overtook his body.

The four tickling him cheered at the newly exposed spots and fingers quickly wiggled into Channie’s most sensitive spots.

Minho went straight for his armpits hollering, “One shot one kill,” as he dug into the center with his thumbs, vibrating the fingers in.

Poor Chan squeezed his eyes shut, his back arching off the chair as muffled laughter escaped his throat.

Then Hyunjin and Changbin went for his sides, pressing their fingers in through the tattered edges of his crop top.

And just to add the cherry on top, Felix grabbed at his thighs, squeezing the solid flesh in a way that just shouldn’t feel so damn ticklish.

Channie’s breath hitched in his throat, his lips curling as he tried to hold back. But when Changbin leaned down to blow a raspberry, he gave in, squirting the water straight in poor Lixie’s face.

The chick squawked in surprise, scrambling away, sputtering and begging for a tissue. Chan giggled, both at the younger’s adorable reaction and Minho’s hand that still hadn’t left his pits.

He pushed them away, this time successfully managing to land a poke at the kitten’s side.

“46 seconds….” The staff announced, looking amazed. Chan himself was stunned that he’d lasted that long. He passed on round two when Minho tried to sit him back on the chair.

“Seungmin’s next!!” The puppy shifted his weight nervously, putting on a brave face when Han and Jeongin brought their faces close, looking cocky af. “Are you ready? Are you Seungminie?”

Seungmin:

“Time for revenge puppy.” Chan called, eyes glinting with an excitement that had Seungmin gulping nervously, trying to muster his bravado. He planned to spit the water out the moment the timer started. “Whatever old man.”

“Oh you are SO getting it for that.” Chan fake glared at him, imitating Seungmin by drawing a line across his throat. The puppy just poked his tongue out mockingly at him.

“We’re gonna absolutely wreck you pup. Aren’t you excited?” Minho taunted, a challenging expression on his face that Seungmin met head on.

“Do your worst, grandpa.” He retorted, but the slight quiver in his voice betrayed his nerves. Minho levelled him with a death glare that Seungmin couldn’t help but grin at despite the looming consequences.

“You have to last at least 10 seconds, or you’ll have to go a second time for a minute with everyone.” The staff couldn’t have announced this at a worse time.

Seungmin stared blanky at them for a moment before his attention snapped back to the blatantly over excited faces of his hyungs and maknae.

Maybe it wasn’t his finest idea to taunt and tease them earlier. “W-wait, hyungs, Innie! I’m sohorry— please go easy on me?”

He gave them his best puppy eyes just to be met with scoffs and smirks. Felix pushed him into the chair, presenting the cup of water with impatient eyes.

“We’ll go soooo easy on you Seungminie, don’t you worry about a thing~” Han crooned from somewhere behind him, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Sighing, Minnie took a slow sip of water, accepting his fate.

“Get ready to laugh for us babyy~” As expected Chan, Han, Felix and Minho volunteered to tickle him, while Binnie and Innie caught his hands and held them away.

When the timer started, Han went straight for Seungmin’s stomach, determined to make the younger lose. Chan and Felix went for his sides and Minho clasped his hands over the puppy’s thighs, just above his knees and squeezed.

Seungmin made a strangely warbled noise, throwing his head back and clenching his eyes shut.

But that only exposed another weak spot to Chan, who scribbled eagerly at the sides of his neck, laughing when the puppy hurried to scrunch his shoulders.

Hyunjin and Felix cackled at the pup’s predicament, loving how his eyes glared even as his body writhed from the hands toying with his worst spots.

“What’s wrong Minnie? Why aren’t you laughing for us pup? Are we not tickling you enough?” Oh, Han was evil, taunting Seungmin, who for once couldn’t say anything back.

The quokka squeezed Minnie’s side with one hand, using the other to simultaneously wiggle a finger in his navel.

Seungmin gave up immediately, spraying a targeted stream of water at Minho who gasped and froze in shock at his spot near the pup’s thighs.

Seungmin was busy laughing his head off, almost toppling off his chair at the force of his laughter.

Then rough hands were dragging him to the floor and he found a furious Minho looming over him.

He could barely get a word out to plead his case when a finger was pressed right back into his navel and a thumb dug into his upper ribs.

Seungmin howled with laughter, two of his worst spots being exploited at the same time. “Are you having fun now pup? I’m certainly enjoying this.”

“STAHA-STAHAHAP!! MINHO HYUNG PLEAHEHEASE,” but nothing he said could save him from the older’s wrath.

The others watched fondly at the pair as Minho wrecked the puppy with a straight face and twinkling boba eyes.

Seungmin squirmed and kicked his feet and screamed when Minho bent down to press a raspberry on his lower stomach, bucking up with a hysterical shriek just to come crashing back down again.

“SOHO—SOHOHORRY, I’M SORRY!! HYUNG PLEHEHEASE!” But Minho’s hands on him remained merciless.

Finally, the leader took pity on the ticklish pup and pulled Minho off him. Seungmin panted loudly, lying star fished on the floor until his breathing evened out, tears slipping down the sides of his face.

He vaguely heard the staff calling out ‘17 seconds’ and smiled in relief. He didn’t think he could take a round two after how hard he’d just been wrecked.

Hyunjin felt a chill run down his spine when their collective attention slowly diverted to their new target. This game seemed like it was designed to make him suffer.

Hyunjin:

It was going to be so easy. All it ever took were a few well-placed fingers to get the ferret to surrender. With how ticklish Hyunjin was, this was hardly a fair game.

“You got me real good didn’t you Jinnie?” Chan’s voice promised nothing good.

“Cha-Channie hyung, it’s just a game, there’s no need for revenge…” The leader smiled devilishly at that.

“Yes Jinnie, it’s all in good. fun.” The menacing tone underlying those words pretty much sealed his fate.

Felix, Seungmin, Chan and Changbin stepped forward and Hyunjin shuddered.

The timer sounded and with it began his torture. “Hold him still Innie, Hannie. I got an idea.”

Chan whispered something in Changbin’s ear and with a smirk, the dwaekki hopped over to close his hands over Hyunjin’s eyes.

Great, now he would have to deal with everything feeling ten times worse. That was just what he needed.

He was so caught up in his head when a sudden scratchy sensation began at his ribs that he very nearly shrieked.

It took everything he had to keep his lips sealed when the strange sensation only grew more insistent and started to tickle him insanely bad.

Chan wielded the backscratchers with practiced ease, digging it lightly into Jinnie’s ribs while Felix scribbled lightly at his sides. Seungmin brushed his fingers along Hyunjin’s neck and Changbin blew in his ears.

“Guys aim for his worst spots, let’s make him lose!” Seungmin chirped from the audience. “Yeah then we can all get him back in round 2!!” Han finished excitedly.

Hyunjin tried to wrench himself free from the offending touches but the hands restraining him held fast. He could barely even move around in his chair, let alone anywhere out of it.

Hyunjin wanted to hide his face. He knew he looked funny with the pained expression he probably had on, so he tugged furiously at his arms…but it didn't so much as budge.

He let out a high pitched whine, his body contorting into the strangest positions, almost making it look like he was possessed.

That earned hysterical laughter from Felix and Han, who almost let go of Hyunjin’s arm. As expected, the sensitive ferret couldn’t take much.

When one final pair grabbed at his thighs, Hyunjin gave in, spewing the water out in a warm, albeit gross stream…..straight at Chan.

The leader scrambled away with a screech as everyone laughed after him.

“Oooh 8 seconds Jinnie. So close….well you know what this means hm?” Minho’s teasing voice sent shivers down his spine. Why couldn’t he have held on for 2 more seconds?!

The poor ferret couldn’t even process what he heard, too dazed from trying to hold back his laughter even when it had tickled so bad.

Unfortunately for him, everyone else heard the announcement loud and clear. 8 seconds. So close and yet so far away. He looked pleadingly at the rest.

“It’s just two seconds! You don’t have to do this…” He tried to talk his way out of it, changing tactics when no one seemed to buy it.

“This isn’t fair! You guys cheated. You went for a death spot, what was I supposed to do?!” Hyunjin complained, a bratty tone to his voice.

“Aww, it's not our fault you’re so ticklish. Every spot is a death spot for you~” Felix teased, confirming with the staff that Hyunjin wouldn’t need to use water for this round.

The artist was promptly pulled to the floor by Seungmin, blabbing on and on about how hard he was going to wreck him.

Nervous giggles bubbled up in Hyunjin’s throat but there was no running from them. Innie’s eyes glinted with malice as he watched the older get pinned down.

“Wait! Wait! I didn’t have enough time to prepare!”

“Nuh uh, no waiting.” Minho cut off his weak protests and the seven took their places around Hyunjin, Minho sitting on his hands, Lix straddling his hips and Han sitting on his calves.

Hyunjin couldn’t move a single limb as the quokka slipped his shoes off and Lix pushed his shirt up all the way to his chest, leaving his tummy and sides gloriously bare and just waiting to be tormented.

“Pl-please be nice,” the ferret begged as a last resort, flinching when a single finger swiped up the length of his socked sole.

The moment those awful, mean hands reached his stomach, Hyunjin bucked up, his own hands trying to move to protect the weak spot but Minho’s weight held them tight.

Giggles and laughter bubbled up in his chest, the artist’s face turning pink at the relentless sensation. It was a somewhat new spot for him.

Despite being in plain sight, he wasn’t tickled there as often but it already seemed like it was going to be one of his bad spots.

“Ahahahaha, Lihixie nohoho…” He giggled cutely up at the ball of sunshine.

His attention was diverted when Hannie began scribbling up and down his feet, randomly digging in to hear the ferret squeal loudly.

“Ahah! HANNIE FAHAHAHA- NOT THERE!! PLEHEHEASE I CAHAN’T TAKE IT GODS! ” The poor artist sounded so winded, overcome by a fit of laughter as his worst spot was exploited freely.

Then Seungmin, Felix and Chan aimed at his torso, their hands all varying in technique and roughness, making Hyunjin feel light headed.

Binnie and Lix each grabbed at his thighs, squeezing and scribbling the life out of them and the artist screamed.

“NAHAHAHAHA, nohohot there! I gihive, I give!” he shrieked, desperately writhing in their grasp.

Hysterical cackles and shrieks were the only sound Hyunjin seemed able to produce in his place, somehow managing to make it to the 1 minute mark without dying.

Although in all honesty he knew that everyone had switched to softer tickles midway, not wanting to overwhelm him.

Hyunjin felt like a mess when they let him go. He was pretty certain he looked the part too, with his clothes ruffled beyond help and hair tousled crazily.

But he knew the undeniable smile and tears of mirth streaking his face would be something Stay would like so he let it go.

Han:

“Your turn Hannie~ Get ready for death!” Felix declared with a clap, leading the jittery quokka to the dreaded chair.

Of course. He had helped in wrecking everyone else before him. Karma really was a bitch. He broke free from Lix, only to be cornered by the maknae who reached over to grab at his side.

“Ah NO! You cahahan’t do thihis to mee!!” He protested feebly, trying to back away from Jeongin.

A strong arm around his waist, however, sat him easily back on the chair.

When had their little baby bread gotten so strong? The cup of water was thrust in his face and Hannie shakily took a sip.

This time Jeongin was going to keep Hannie’s hands occupied while 2racha and Seungmin stepped up, armed with feathers and 3 backscratchers.

“We’re gonna wreck you Hannie~” Chan teased, his characteristic dimpled smile blooming on his face when Han giggled sweetly up at him. He pretended to melt off the chair, dramatically reaching a hand out to an amused Minho.

But for all his enthusiastic demeanor, all he got was a soft caress over his sides. It still tickled but it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the mood he’d gotten just from watching Channie, Seungminie and Jinnie get tickled.

He whined, sounding distressed and Minho couldn’t help but pinch his cheeks. “Fine fine, we’ll do it for real this time.”

His words heralded chaos. Hands flitted everywhere that Hannie could imagine and it took everything in him to not burst out laughing that instant.

He didn’t want this to end just when it had gotten good! So he sat there squirming, with Innie holding his arms over and behind his head.

Hands attached to Han’s sides, another pair coming up to dig into the hollows of his armpits and Han shot up in his chair. He twisted and squirmed fruitlessly in Innie’s grip but there was no escape.

Muffled giggles flowed like a melody from his closed lips and Hannie’s cheeks puffed up, making him look more like a squirrel than ever.

The two eldest couldn’t help but coo at the adorable sight, even while Han was fighting for his life on that chair.

Then the fingers were replaced with the feathers and backscratchers, Binnie twirling and flicking at his sensitive neck and ears and cheeks, cackling away when Hannie let out frantic but subdued laughter.

Minho and Chan scraped at his thighs, sides, tummy and ribs with the tools. Basically any place they could reach at, switching between spots so fast, the poor lee malfunctioned.

His thighs were a death spot and the fact that his skin tight jeans allowed for the tools to glide easily all over the ticklish flesh only amplified the sensation that much more.

Minho leaned forwards, his breath ghosting over the quokka’s ear, making him shiver with how even that felt unbearable. “C’mon, you can last 30 seconds right Han-ah?” Lino asked hopefully.

But all the ace could do was shake his head and chant “I can’t, I can’t’ over and over in his mind, hoping that the words he couldn’t speak would somehow be conveyed to them.

So he did the next best thing, twisting away, muffled protests and pleas falling from his lips until Minho’s voice had him pausing every thought.

“I’ll tickle you so well when we get back if you get to 30 seconds,” he promised, pulling away to grin at the flustered baby. Hannie huffed through his nose but nodded slightly.

He didn’t know how he managed it but Hannie squirmed and thrashed and giggled his way through half a minute of this relentless torment.

But eventually, a sudden attack on his waist made him spray the water out. “Good boy.”

The kitten patted his head and rubbed his back as he heaved for breath, folded over the chair while his brain kept replaying the dizzying series of events that had just taken place.

He was going to get wrecked later…. Minho was going to tickle him to his heart’s content, and as much as Hannie wanted and in any way he wanted.

It was safe to say that Han.exe stopped working for a couple minutes till his brain processed that information.

And then the brightest of smiles lightened up his face, lips curving into the beautiful heart shape the members simply adored.

Next in line was a certain tsundere kitten, who glared pointedly at Hyunjin, daring him to so much as take a step in his direction.

Chan swatted at him for that, plopping him down on the chair and scolding him playfully to get ready. Minho was determined ot not give them the satisfaction of seeing him so much as cracking a smile.

Minho:

The moment the time started, the Aussie duo and Han lunged for him. With Binnie and Innie holding his arms away, Minho felt helpless.

Channie’s fingers danced all over his upper body and thighs, squeezing, scribbling, kneading and jabbing at random spots to have poor Lino squirming and kicking in his seat. His resolve crumbled almost immediately; tickles were his Achilles heel. The one thing he couldn’t stand.

“So cute~” Chan cooed, watching with growing amusement at how flustered the younger was.

He almost toppled over from all his thrashing, little squeaks and whines escaping, much to his horror.

Minho was mortally embarrassed.

All his frantic thrashing was being recorded. He just knew they weren’t going to let him live this down.

“So shy aren’t you little baby? You try to act so nonchalant, but you’re just a soft, ticklish little kitten, aren’t you?” Chan’s relentless teases had Minho’s brain short circuiting.

Even innocent Hannie and Minnie were affected, blushing red, even as their fingers still continued to run all over the older’s sensitive torso.

Chan laughed, delighted by the reaction he got. “Guys aim for his sides; he can’t take it there!”

The announcement had poor Lino is shambles. His shirt and hair were a mess and tears welled up at the corners of his squinted eyes.

More and more hands joined in at his waist, sides and tummy. Han pinched gently at his waist while Felix clawed at his belly.

At this point Minho wasn’t sure he could tell up from down, trying his best to keep in his desperate laughter. His ears shone crimson, little whimpers and held back giggles escaping now and then.

That was when Felix whipped out a backscratcher, teasingly waving it in the older’s face before moving it down and dragging it all over Minho’s thighs.

If he didn’t want to win this stupid competition, Minho knew he’d be screaming and begging now.

His thighs were a death spot and the fact that his skin tight jeans allowed for it to basically glide easily all over the ticklish flesh only amplified the sensation that much more.

For everything he handed out, Minho simply couldn’t take it.

Counting down to ten in his head, his mind just barely holding onto the numbers, he loudly gulped down the water.

Laughter rang throughout the room until he reigned in his reactions enough to yelp out a giggly, “STAHAHAP!!”

The hands lingered for a few more seconds before lifting off his now hypersensitive body, Chan offering him some water that he grudgingly accepted.

There was a smug murmur of how he couldn’t take what he dished out, Minho blushing furiously as he glared at Han, the squirrel withering away with a giggly apology.

“30 seconds!” The staff called and Minho wasn’t certain if that was right, it had felt like an eternity. He had no idea how he’d lasted so long without laughing.

Innie was next. The cute maknae, inched away from everyone until he was dragged back to the torture chair by a laughing Felix.

“Hyunjin and I will go! He’s too ticklish to handle four of us anyway.” Seungmin snickered at the red faced maknae, who threw him a dirty look for that last remark. Oh no. These two were merciless lers….. And so, it began.

Jeongin:

“Aww, always so ticklish, aren’t you little one? Does this tickle? How about here? It’s really too bad you’re going to have to take this hmm?”

Seungmin’s gloved hands were at his sides, drilling into the toned muscles with precise, torturous presses, making Innie buck up in his seat. The teases felt way worse than the tickling itself.

Jeongin really wanted the ground to swallow his whole right now. He just knew his face was so red right now.

However, he had little time to linger on his embarrassment when Hyunjin’s nails dragged over the taut skin of his collarbones, skittering left and right then up and down.

Innie threw his head back, shoes skidding and squeaking on the white floor, leaving dark marks all over. But he couldn’t care less about that.

Seungmin’s hands snuck under his shirt, running along his bare ribs and sides, lazily tracing the spots as if he had all the time in the world.

Oh that little demon puppy knew exactly how to get him. Innie shook his head, eyes shut tight as he tried his best to hold on just a little longer.

The moment he counted down from 10, Innie spewed the water all over a flabbergasted pup who pressed his fingers in in revenge, vibrating them to hear Jeongin howl with laughter.

Innie just barely managed to push him away with his weakened arms, dashing away and slumping in Hyunjin’s hold.

The older was more than happy to cuddle him. “12 seconds!” Innie sighed in relief, he’d just barely passed.

Changbin, cleared his throat loudly, eyes flitting about nervously when everyone turned to him. “Actually…I think I left the stove on. I’ll be right back!”

He tried to make a dash for the door but Chan and Innie were quicker, tackling the squirming rapper to the floor and tickling him to bits there.

“You thought you’d get away that easily after wrecking us all? Nuh uh hyung.”

Binnie squealed and pleaded, wriggling around on the floor when Chan held him down and Innie squeezed at his sides.

They let him go when the staff gestured at them, laughing at their antics.

Changbin:

Changbin sat down with a smile he didn’t care to suppress, taking a sip of water slowly at Hyunjin’s knowing look. Han and Chan volunteered to keep his arms away.

Hyunjin, Chan, Felix and Minho eagerly claimed their spots, circling Binnie like sharks. Then the timer started.

Felix targeted Binnie’s ribs with relentless pokes, Minho focusing on light, teasing strokes under his arms.

Chan and Hyunjin alternated between squeezing his knees and scribbling on his neck, leaving the poor rapper in stitches. He felt so helpless and exposed like this, with Innie and Han holding his weakened arms away.

“Is this bad Binnie? Oh, are you trying to say something?” Chan called in a sing song voice, fingers tracing all over his sensitive neck and broad shoulders.

“What! You can’t take this? That’s really too bad, isn’t it?” Hyunjin mocked from his spot at Binnie’s legs. They were ruthless.

Even the ones on the sidelines, were throwing teases and taunts his way. Felix’s fingers hovered over his torso, quickly moving over spots but not touching him yet.

And just when Changbin had thought he’d be able to handle this much… Minho and Hyunjin grabbed feathers and paintbrushes.

The artist skillfully ran the paintbrush over his upper ribs, twisting and curling the soft hair around the ridges and crevices of Binnie’s bulky body. Binnie squeaked, a cute sound that had everyone cooing at him.

He was about to explode from the sensations when Minho sunk his fingers into the pudge of his tummy.

He shut his eyes tight, shaking his head side to side but nothing he did seemed to alleviate the tingles running up his spine.

And then Felix started with the feathers, tracing them over his neck and setting every nerve it went over, tingling like a live wire.

Binnie’s body lurched to the side, away from them, his arm wrenching free from Han’s grip and clamping tightly to his side.

Giggly words sounded vaguely from his vocal cords but no matter which way he turned, the feathers and paintbrushes followed him.

And just to make it worse, Hyunjin added his fingers to the mix, digging and clawing at his sides.

The rapper gave in, spurting water everywhere as he hopped out of his seat and ran a safe distance away from the duo, folding over and rubbing at his hyper charged skin.

Residual giggles bubbled from his lips and Felix couldn’t resist sneaking behind the dwaekki and stuffing his hands up Binnie’s pits.

Changbin yelped out a laugh, once again hopping away from the smug Aussie. ”Hyung’s just like a bunny~ Aren’t you hyungie?” He teased fondly.

His timing came upto 15 seconds and Binnie’s face felt like it was on fire when everyone started to taunt him for it.

And for the final contestant… Felix couldn’t deny that anxiety had been simmering in his belly.

Felix:

“You really had a lot of fun with us…..didn’t you Lix?” Hyunjin scribbled his nails under the chick’s chin, watching adoringly when it made the younger smile brightly.

“You guys liked it~” He teased lightly, yelping when that earned him a jab to the side from a flustered Changbin.

“Aww feeling shy hyungie? You looked so cute when you were squirming around earlier. Hannie too, being all squeaky and adorable. You wanted more didn’t you, ticklish baby?”

His deep voice and the teasing lilt to it were a deadly combination. Binnie and Hannie didn’t stand a chance, the tips of their ears bleeding crimson.

“Drink.” Seungmin ordered stiffly, shoving the water in Lixie’s face before he could get everyone else. “You’re so cute puppy. Don’t worry, stays know allll about your little ‘secret’,” he taunted, laughing when Seungmin sputtered at his words.

Having had his fun, Lix took a big sip of the water, leaning back and holding his arms out without a care in the world. He knew he’d get the tickles he’d been craving all day.

Being the last had really riled up his lee mood and now he was willing to do and say just about anything if it got him the ‘punishment’ he wanted.

And with his comments earlier, he’d left quite a few of them raring to get their revenge.

The timer beeped, signaling Han, Changbin, Seungmin and Hyunjin to lunge at the chick. Han’s fingers alternated between feather-light grazes on Lixie’s sides and firm digs into his ribs.

“Still feeling brave Lix?” Felix’s initial enthusiasm vanished as fingers danced over his ribs and sides.

Hyunjin’s light touches contrasted with Seungmin’s firmer squeezes, the fusion leaving the little Aussie squealing through his zipped mouth.

Felix’s reactions were quite entertaining, the little chick trying to twist away, tugging wildly at his arms but they stayed firm, stretched up over his head and held together by one of Channie’s hands.

Lix shivered when his shirt was pulled up, giggling sweetly when Binnie ran a single finger up the curve of his spine.

Calloused fingers began skittering all over his back, digging in once they found his shoulder blades.

The chick let out a muffled scream, jerking forwards. He hadn’t expected it to tickle so much but that reaction only got Channie to pull him back by his wrists…right back into Changbin’s waiting fingers.

Felix kicked his feet, that being the only way he could relieve the tingly sensations taking over his body and threw his head back into Chan’s chest as giggles formed in his throat.

Then Seungmin lifted a hand to his torso, fingers drawing a tickly path from Lixie’s sides to his abs, then up to his ribs and right into his hollows.

A second pair of hands joined in, this time slipping under the bunched up fabric at the front and a finger circled the rim of his navel.

Lixie’s eyes snapped frantically to a smirking Hyunjin. “You seem to be enjoying this way more than any of us Lix. Got anything to say for yourself?”

Hyunjin dipped his finger in, giggling when Lix jolted in place, swirling around in his belly button as the little Aussie shook his head, giving him his best puppy eyes.

More fingers dipped into the ticklish skin of his lower ribs, and Felix couldn’t hold back as water dribbled down his chin in little rivulets, pulling with it an embarrassed squeak.

His laughter was set free. Happy, bubbly squeals of joy filled the space and the hands didn’t stop, even though the timer had.

They slowed to a stop when Chan noticed how blissed out yet tired his baby looked. Hyunjin helped him to his feet, catching the chick when his jelly legs almost gave out.

Round one concluded, Chan leading with a wide margin. They had to shift their schedules to later, everyone too exhausted to jump into the next part.

Luckily for them, their manager had already predicted as much, leading the sleepy kids back to the waiting room for some much needed rest.

[justjasminne]

꒰͡⠀bad things⠀͡꒱

Stepdad!rick x readerㅤ

(probably gonna end up with a part 2 or 3 or 7 lol 😭)

You were getting ready for a party for your friends 18th birthday. You stood in front of your bathroom mirror as you adjusted your tight crop top that you paired with a short skirt. You heard a knock at the door. "You ready sweetheart?" You heard your step dad ask from the other side of the door. "Just a minute!" You said as you quickly touched up your make up. You heard him walk away from the door. You couldn't tell whether it was the vodka or your horny brain that made you think he was hot as fuck but whichever one was taking over your thoughts, you knew he felt the same way about you.

You rushed out the bathroom and downstairs where you saw your annoying older sister. "Are you driving yourself?" she asked looking you up and down, observing the clothes you actually stole from her. You were about to answer when you got cut off. "I'm driving her." Rick said assertively. You were mad but you couldn't help but think about how fucking hot he is. You rolled your eyes and walked out the door and got into the car. He sat down in the driver's seat next to you. "Uhmm okay let's go..." he said as he reversed the car out of your driveway.

It was a long ride but half way through he caught you staring. Your glossy drunk eyes still glistening from the pre drinks you had earlier. "You good sweetheart?" He asked with a smirk. You could only manage to nod your head and squeeze your thighs together while thinking the dirtiest thoughts ever. How you wanted rick to fuck you right now, later at home and 24/7 until the neighbors heard your screams, until the windows were foggy, until you were numb. "Are you sure you're okay, am I making you horny darlin " he asked placing a hand on your thigh. His eyes darted between you and the road as he pulled over to drop you off. "Yeah you are.." you said as you looked up at him. "We'll work on it when youre at home..." he said slowly leaning in. Your lips parted as they connected with his, his tounge slowly exploring your mouth. You let out a quiet moan as he deepend the kiss. You scooted towards him wanting, needing and craving his love. "I'm yours." You whispered in his ear. The smell of vodka and gin bounce off his skin so you could smell it yourself. "Go have fun baby" he said as he kissed you again. "Bye step daddy!" You said as you ran to your friends. He heard them giggling and shook his head with a smirk.

🤍sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes i rushed it🤍

ib: @versatilehater <333

[hbyrde36]

STWG Drabble 9/30/23

Prompt: Drunk talk

It was 2am, and Steve was sitting on the kitchen floor huddled around the phone, gripping the handset like it was a lifeline. It only rang twice before Robin picked up. She'd begged her parents to install an extra phone line in her room after Starcourt, and they gave in quickly once they realized it was either that, or getting woken up regularly by middle of the night panicked phone calls from the boy their daughter swore she wasn’t dating. Her parents didn’t know what had really happened to the two kids, just that whatever it was had left them with a lot of trauma and a little bit of codependency, but they loved their daughter, so they did what they could to make her happy.

“Steve?” Robin yawned his name into the phone, a hint of concern coloring her voice even though she was only half awake.

“Robbi-” Steve choked out through a sob that was punctuated with a hiccup. “I thhhink I fuccked up.”

“Are you drunk?” She asked, sounding a little more awake.

Steve snapped his fingers, pointing as if she was in the room with him. “Guessed it’n one.” He slurred a little, sniffling as he tried to speak. It was a wonder she understood him at all.

“Jesus, how much did you have? Wait, weren’t you and Eddie supposed to be hanging out tonight?”

“Oh Eddie” Steve sighed dramatically. “Eddie, he wasss here, he..oh god.. Robin I fuuucked up so bad - e’s never going to tttalk to me again.”

“What happened?” She asked.

Steve cleared his throat and took a few deep breaths. Trying hard to sober himself up.

“We were drinking.” He managed the three words with much less slurring than before, he thought Robin should be impressed.

She wasn’t.

“Clearly”

“Don’ be mean, i’m upset!” Steve groaned.

“Sorry, go on.”

“And I knew I shouldn’t have let myself drink so much but I did and god, Robin, he looked so hot!” Steve rambled on. “He had his hair up and a crop top on and I couldn’t help myself…. I all but sat on his lap when we decided to watch a movie.”

“I’m failing to see the issue here. You were flirting with him, so what? You like him, he likes you.”

“We don’t know that!” Steve hissed.

“We do know that! And I've been telling you to ask him out for weeks!.”

Steve hesitated, a little of his old panic rising in his chest. “I…i wasn’t ready.”

Robin’s tone softend. “That’s okay, you’re allowed to not be ready.”

“I think I am now, but…” He trailed off.

“Okay, so what’s the problem?”

“Eddie kissed me.” Steve said simply, as if that explained everything. In fairness to his booze soaked mind, it did.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate, babe.”

“I freaked out, Robin! I freaked out and he thought I was freaking out because I didn't want him to kiss me, but really I was freaking out because I like him so much, and the kiss! Oh, the kiss was amazing. I had no idea that kissing could feel like that, but then I panicked because - what if I mess it up, Robin? What if I mess up with Eddie like I did with Nancy? I don’t know if I could survive that again.”

Robin was quiet for a long moment before she said anything.

“Shit, Steve. Do you…feel the same way about him as you did about Nance?”

“I think I do, Robs, I think I'm in love with him, but it doesn’t matter because I already ruined it.”

“Is that true?”

Steve’s heart sank as a deep voice sounded behind him.

He heard Robin suck in a breath on the other end of the line. He looked up, already knowing what he would find. Sure enough, Eddie was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, jacket on and keys still in hand. How long had he been standing there? Did he come back, or had he never left?

“Is that..?” Robin started to ask, but Steve cut her off. “Yeah, it is, um. I gotta go, I'll call you tomorrow.” He hung up before she could respond, never taking his eyes off the boy in the doorway.

Steve gulped audibly. “How much of that did you hear?”

Eddie shuffled his feet, looking nervous. It wasn’t something Steve was used to seeing on the other boy, he usually exuded confidence.

“I guess that depends.” Eddie replied.

“On?”

“How much of it did you mean?”

“All of it.” Steve answered quickly, eager to fix the mess he’d made of things.

Eddie pressed his lips together in a thin line, thinking. “Are you sure it’s not just because you’re drunk and sad?” He said, finally.

“If you stay, I'll say it again in the morning.”

Eddie smiled and shook his head. He walked over and sat down on the floor next to Steve, taking his hand and entwining their fingers. “What a line, Stevie.”

Steve ducked his head. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”

Eddie raised their clasped hands to his mouth and pressed his lips to the back of Steve’s fingers.

“I’m sorry too. I left and didn’t give you the chance to explain. I got into my van and even started it, but I couldn't leave. I didn’t want to run anymore. I came back inside so we could talk about it. I hoped you would forgive me for kissing you and we could still be friends.”

“I don’t want to be just friends, Eddie. Can we try the kiss again?”

Eddie squeezed his hand and stood up, pulling Steve along with him.

“Let’s get you to bed, and if you feel the same way in the morning I would be happy to have a do-over.”

Steve pouted but allowed Eddie to lead him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom.

“Don’t pout, baby. You’re really drunk, and it would feel too much like I was taking advantage of you. Let’s just go to sleep, I promise I'll still be here in the morning.”

Baby.

“Will you sleep in here with me if I swear to keep my hands to myself?” Steve asked.

Eddie usually slept on the couch or the guest room when he stayed over. Steve had always hated it, but he had never been brave enough to ask Eddie to stay with him until now.

Eddie chuckled. “Yea, Stevie. I’ll stay with you.”

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part thirty-two

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral

el's thoughts: again, thank you for being so patient with meee!! from a writing aspect, i'm almost done with the series! and it's wilddd i'm currently finishing up chapter thirty-five and my heart hurts knowing that i'm kinda almost done..

masterlist

Y/N stared silently at Kaz while he watched Inej intently, his bitter coffee eyes glittering in the light from the dome.

Inej explained how the costumes would be their masks. How the Fjerdans would only see a Suli lynx and a Kaelish mare. Not people, not even really girls, just lovely objects to be collected.

“It’s a risk,” said Kaz.

“What job isn’t?”

“Kaz, how are you, Matthias and Y/N going to get through?” asked Nina. “We might need you for locks, and if things go bad on the island, I don’t want to be stranded. I doubt you can pass yourselves off as members of the houses.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Kaz. “Helvar’s been holding out on us.”

“Have you?” asked Y/N.

“It’s not-” Matthias dragged a hand over his cropped hair. “How do you know these things, demjin?” he growled at Kaz.

“Logic. The whole Ice Court is a masterpiece of fail-safes and doubled systems. That glass bridge is impressive, but in an emergency, there would have to be another way to get reinforcements to the White Island and get the royal family out.”

Y/N and Jesper shared a smirk at the sight of Matthias’ baffled expression.

“Yes,” said Matthias in exasperation. “There’s another way to the White Island. But it’s messy.” He glanced at Nina. “And it certainly can’t be done in a gown.”

“Hold on,” Jesper interrupter. “Who cares if you can all get onto the White Island? Let’s say Nina sparkles Yul-Bayur’s location out of some Fjerdan higher-up, and you get him back here. We’ll be trapped/ By then, the prison guards will have completed their search and are going to know seven inmates got out of the sector somehow. Any chance we have of making it through the embassy gates and the checkpoints will be gone.”

Kaz peered past the dome to the embassy’s open courtyard and the ringwall gatehouse beyond.

“Wylan, how hard would it be to disable one of these gates?”

“To get it open?”

“No, to keep it closed.”

“You mean break it?” Wylan shrugged. “I don’t think it would be too difficult. I couldn’t see the mechanism when we entered the prison gate, but from the layout, I’m guessing it’s pretty standard.”

“Pulleys, cogs, some really big screws?”

“Well, yes, and a sizable winch. The cables wrap around it like a big spool, and the guards just turn it with some kind of handle or wheel.”

“I know how a winch works. Can you take one apart?”

“I think so, but it’s the alarm system the cables are attached to that’s complicated. I doubt I could do it without triggering Black Protocol.”

“Good,” said Kaz. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Jesper held up a hand. “I’m sorry, isn’t Black Protocol the thing we want to avoid at all costs?”

“I do seem to remember something about certain doom,” said Nina.

“Not if we use it against them.” Y/N spoke up causing Kaz to give her a nod. “Tonight, most of the Court’s security is concentrated on the White Island and right here at the embassy. When Black Protocol sounds, the glass bridge will shut down, trapping all those guards on the island along with the guests.”

“But what about Matthias’ rout off the island?” asked Nina.

“They can’t move a major force that way,” Matthias conceded. “At least not quickly.”

Kaz gazed out at the White Island, head filter, eyes slightly unfocused.

“Scheming face,” Inej murmured.

Y/N nodded. “Definitely.”

“Three gates in the ringwall,” Kaz said. “The prison gate is already locked up tight because of Yellow Protocol. The embassy gate is a bottle neck crammed with guests—the Fjerdans aren’t going to get the troops through there. Jesper, that just leaves the gate in the druskelle sector for you and Wylan to handle. You use it to engage Black Protocol, then wreck it. Break it badly enough that any guards who manage to mobilize can’t get out to follow us.”

“I’m all for locking the Fjerdans in their own fortress,” said Jesper. “Truly. But how do we get out? Once we trigger Black Protocol, you guys will be trapped on that island, and we’ll be trapped in the outer circle. We have no weapons and no demo materials.”

Kaz’s grin was sharp as a razor. “Thank goodness we’re proper thieves. We’re going to do a little shopping—and it’s all going on Fjerda’s tab.”

~

Y/N looked at her strange crew, barefoot and shivering in their soot-stained prison uniforms, their features limned by the golden light of the dome, softened by the mist that hung in the air.

What bound them together? Greed? Desperation? Was it just the knowledge that if one or all of them disappeared tonight, no one would come looking? Maybe Nikolai would send a few troops to search but that was out of duty. Y/N had no one to shed a tear and mourn her life. She had no family, no parents, no siblings, only people to fight beside. And she knew that was always something to be grateful for, too.

It was Jesper who spoke first. “No mourners,” he said with a grin.

“No funerals,” they replied in unison. Even Matthias muttered the words softly.

“If any of you survive, make sure I have an open casket,” Jesper said as he hefted two slender could of rope over his shoulder and signaled for Wylan to follow him across the roof. “The world deserves a few more moments with this face.”

Y/N was only slightly surprised to see the intensity of the look that passed between Matthias and Nina. Something had changed between them after the battle with the Shu, but she couldn’t be sure what.

Matthias cleared his throat and gave Nina an awkward little bow. “A word?” he asked.

Nina returned the bow with considerably more panache, and let him lead her away.

Inej gave the inferni a soft smile and slipped the recognizable pair of black leather gloves into her hands. The Suli nodded towards Kaz and slipped away to wait for Nina.

Y/N turned to face him and walked to his side.

“I have something for you,” she said as she held out his gloves.

He stared at them. “How-”

“I got them from the discarded clothes and gave them to Inej before she made the climb.”

He pulled the gloves on slowly, and she watched his pale, vulnerable hands disappear beneath the leather. They were trickster hands—long, graceful fingers made for prying open locks, hiding coins, making things vanish.

“When we get back to Ketterdam, I’m heading back to Ravka right away.”

He looked away. “You should. You’re too good for the Barrel anyway.”

She hummed and closed her eyes tightly in frustration. She didn’t know what she expected from him but she wanted more.

He reached down to hold her wrist. “Y/N.” His gloved thumb moved over her pulse, tracing the top of a burn scar she got when she miss caught her first flame. “If we don’t make it out, I want you to know … ”

She waited. She felt hope rustling its wings inside her, ready to take flight at the right words from Kaz. She willed that hope into stillness. Those words would never come. Hope is dangerous.

She reached up and touched his cheek. She thought he might flinch again, even pull away from her. He let her hand cup his cheek. His skin was cool and damp from the rain. He stayed still, just barely leaning closer to her warm touch.

“If we don’t survive this night, I will die unafraid, Kaz. Can you say the same?”

His eyes were nearly black, the pupils dilated. She could see his dazed gaze focus back onto her, still not pulling away. She knew it was the best he could offer at the moment and she nodded softly.

She dropped her hand. He took a deep breath.

Kaz had said he didn’t want her prayers and she wouldn’t speak them, but she wished his safe and sane nonetheless.

Matthias stood a few feet away from the pair, grabbing the Inferni’s attention.

“Let’s go, Kaz.”

~*~

taglist: @katherinereid @littlecat21 @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @brekkershadowsinger @brekkers-desigirl @clunaes @wonderland2425 @bookloverfilmoholic @karensirkobabes @bookworm-center @el-de-phi @so-get-this-sammy @skittleabyss @crispy-croke @cometsghost @auttumnsayshi

[aebi12]

"Resentment" - Chapter 12 [AemondxRhaena]

Summary

He is the cause of her sufferings. He took her dragon, her betrothed, and her father. Now, he will also take away her future by having to marry him.

With so much history and bad blood between Rhaena and Aemond, their forced union has everything to fail, except that the proximity will make them discover that perhaps they have more in common than it seems.

AU - the Greens win the war.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11

Masterlist of my other works.

Tags: enemies to lovers, romance, angst, drama, eventual smut, hurt/comfort

Please remember that english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for the mistakes...

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

"It was during that darkness that the Others first appeared. They were cold things, dead things, who hated iron and fire and sunlight, and every creature with warm blood in their veins. They devastated villages, cities and kingdoms. They defeated heroes and armies. They were innumerable, always on the backs of white and dead horses, at the head of hosts of corpses. Not all the swords of men could stop their advance, nor did the maidens or the breast babies awaken their compassion. They hunted the girls through the frozen forests and fed the flesh of human children to their dead servants.”

The sudden sound of the door closing makes her gasp, and close the book. Heart pounding in her chest, Rhaena directs her gaze to the other end of the room.

“Rhaena! Why are you still in bed?” Marianne's voice is full of impatience. The lady frowns when she comes close to her friend, and observes her tired and haggard expression, “Are you feeling ill?”

“I was reading,” Rhaena shakes her head.

“Did you spend all night reading?” she asks astonished

“Not all night,” Rhaena blushes, “I slept for a few hours.”

Marianne sighs and closes her eyes for a few moments. “It is an important day, you should have gotten dressed by now.”

“Surely we still have a few hours before I have to…”

“No, no more reading for today,” Marianne walks around the bed until she reaches the book, quickly taking it in her hands as she guesses Rhaena’s intentions to continue with her favorite pastime, “Honestly, how interesting can this be? Boring fiction about the North”

“Not at all!” Rhaena is quick to say, “It is quite fascinating, actually, reading about the terrible winter that descended upon the entire continent. Did you know that the Others rode spiders the size of horses? They were death itself."

“Stop it, I have no desire for horror stories,” Marianne shudders.

“Oh no, Marianne, let me tell you about what I read, who else am I going to share all this new information with?”

“Prince Aemond, of course,” Marianne places the book on one of the tables, “Since he so kindly lent you the book, he might as well hear your opinions on it.”

Rhaena sighs and her gaze drifts once more to the worn cover of the book. Could it be that her cousin enjoyed the stories as much as she did? Was that the reason the book seemed so aged? Or was it just another copy already worn out by the passing of the years?

“Don't you want to know more about winter?”

“The only thing I know about winter is that it is cold, bad for crops and commerce. And, luckily it is not upon us yet,” Marianne approaches the bed, removes the covers from Rhaena's body and extends her hand towards her, “Otherwise the merchants of Lys would not have been able to bring this.”

The lady shows Rhaena a couple of small glass bottles.

"What are they?" she asks, curious, examining the content

“Face and lip powder,” she replies with a smile.

Rhaena's smile widens as well as she climbs out of bed. “You look beautiful today, by the way,” she says after really taking in the appearance of her friend, who is wearing a yellow, almost ocher dress, with delicate details of seashells, the emblem of her house, which accentuates her delicate figure. Her hair, loose in soft waves, falls to her back, framing her heart-shaped face. “Looking to impress someone?”

“You know who I'd like to impress isn't here,” Marianne responds in a discouraged voice, “But my uncle Tyland wants me to take the opportunity to meet future suitors.”

“Surely you already know all the courtiers who live here?” Rhaena takes off her nightgown and puts her hair in a high bun.

“Well…” Marianne interrupts her respond to give instructions to the maids who fill the bathtub, “Some of the guests to your wedding have already arrived at the Fortress and will attend the banquet.”

“Oh, I did not know that,” her stomach twists at the thought of the wedding. Rhaena steps into the tub, rejoicing in the hot water, which calms her immediately.

“Yes, maybe we will meet someone interesting today.”

"Maybe"

Rhaena quickly carves her body with the sponge while her friend prepares the dress, jewelry and shoes she will wear at the banquet with the help of the maids.

“You should have slept a little more, you look too tired,” Marianne says disapprovingly after Rhaena has already gotten out of the bathtub, inspecting the dark circles on her friend's face.

“Relax, Anne, I do not need to look especially put together today. I am already betrothed, remember?”

“Still,” the lady shrugs, “Come on, help Lady Rhaena get dressed,” she instructs the servants, who quickly place Rhaena inside the dress, their deft fingers buttoning the back buttons, “I would know it would fit you perfectly”

Rhaena walks to the bedroom mirror and observes her figure, “It is tighter than what I usually wear,” she comments as she moves from side to side.

“Nonsense, it looks perfect on you,” her friend repeats.

Rhaena offers her a smile, “Thank you, Marianne, I just hope it is discreet enough for the ceremony. The neckline is much more revealing than the ones I wore all week during the festival.”

“Right, I didn't particularly think about that,” Marianne observes her friend, “We could try putting down a muslin or…”

“No, no,  it is too pretty a dress to add anything out of place,” Rhaena denies, taking in once again her slim figure accentuated by the cut of the dress. The color, subtle and feminine, looks wonderful on her skin tone.

"Sure?" When Rhaena nods, Marianne continues, “Well, you will need an appropriate necklace.”

“I'll use the one Aemond bought for me.”

“The butterfly one? But it is…”

"Simple?"

"Yes"

Rhaena takes the necklace from her dresser, “It will be a sign of goodwill, in my opinion, that I wear something he gave me since I will not be wearing one of the dresses he sent for me”

“I guess you are right,” Marianne agrees, “Your hair then…”

Her friend spends the next few minutes skillfully braiding her hair and applying the Lys powder, which gives a pinkish touch to her cheeks and lips. Pleased with the result, Rhaena applies her rose perfume and links arms with Marianne.

"Ready?"

“Excited,” Marianne nods, “You know how much I enjoy dancing.”

“As do I,” Rhaena giggles, “And I have a feeling we are going to have a pleasant time today.”

***

Aemond plays with the hem of his doublet as he watches Rhaena and her lady-in-waiting advance slowly, laughing carelessly and unaware of his presence waiting for them at the end of the corridor.

When they finally notice the prince, it is almost funny how their expressions and postures change.

“Good morning, my prince,” it is Rhaena's lady who greets him, bowing appropriately.

“Lady Westerling,” he replies, nodding.

His greeting seems to astonish the young woman, who stares at him for several seconds before exchanging a look with her lady. Aemond raises his eyebrows in her direction, not understanding the reaction.

“Cousin,” Rhaena offers him a kind smile, “I thought we'd meet at the party.”

“I figured the most appropriate thing would be to arrive together, after all and as you reminded me yesterday, we are the guests of honor.”

“I guess you are right,” she admits, her smile widening.

“I'll see you inside,” the Westerling girl says to Rhaena, who takes her hand and squeezes it goodbye. She bows to the prince again and strides toward the double doors at the entrance to the hall.

“Your lady-in-waiting seemed a little…” Aemond leaves the idea hanging.

“I think she was just amazed that you remembered her name.”

“I am able to remember the names of the members of the court,” he replies coldly. If he was honest, he didn't remember the girl's name, but the seashells embroidered on her dress had been enough of a clue for him to remember her house.

“I never said otherwise”

Their gazes meet and Aemond stares at the violet tone of her eyes for a few moments before looking away to her cousin's outfit.

“That's not one of the dresses I sent you,” he comments disapprovingly.

"No, it is not. This is a gift from Marianne, beautiful, don't you think?”

"Hmm"

Aemond thinks he sees the beginnings of a smile on Rhaena's face, but he just turns his back on her and starts walking towards the hall.

The guards bow to both of them and announce their arrival as they open the double doors. Rhaena's perfume invades him once again due to her closeness, and Aemond is tempted to glance at her out of the corner of his eye, but she has positioned herself to his left, so he finds nothing but darkness.

The hall, one of the many in the Red Keep, looks splendidly decorated. Emblems of the Faith, House Targaryen and House Blackwood hang from the high ceilings. An altar to the Mother, decorated with numerous natural flowers, stands out in the center of the place. There is also a small stage on the other side of the room with several chairs in front of it. Aemond frowns, but follows Rhaena to the high table, where the High Septon and old lady Blackwood are standing, but before they get there, Rhaena's hand on his forearm stops their progress.

"What is it?" He asks quietly turning to her.

“Be kind,” she responds in a whisper.

Their eyes meet once again. She looks apprehensive, as if she's afraid of what he might say or do in front of the hosts. He finds her concern annoying and even insulting, but when Rhaena presses her gentle touch on his forearm and takes a step toward him, her scent enveloping him once more, the impulse to respond with a sarcastic comment suddenly fades away.

“Please,” she insists in a tone so low that he practically has to read her lips.

His gaze stays on her lips for a few seconds, finding them small and soft-looking. Were they perhaps…? Aemond stops his train of thought and tilts his head, removing his arm from Rhaena's grasp.

“If you insist,” he finally answers after clearing his throat.

She seems content with his response and starts walking again.

“Lady Blackwood!” She greets with a bright smile, “High Septon,” Rhaena nods to both of them.

“Lady Rhaena, Prince Aemond”

The old woman's hard gaze lingers on him for a moment before she bows.

“My lady,” he responds with a solemn voice and nodding his head respectfully.

“I appreciate the presence of both of you on this special occasion,” says the woman, “It is my hope that you enjoy this small ceremony.”

Aemond purses his lips and suppresses a snort of annoyance. He detests false modesty. The woman had clearly gone to great lengths with the preparations of every detail.

“Everything looks magnificent,” Rhaena smiles, “I am sure you'll be a wonderful hostess today, if your tea parties are any indication.”

They both laugh and the High Septon laughs with them. Beside him, Rhaena subtly bumps her foot against Aemond's.

“It is an honor for us to be here, Lady Blackwood,” he says finally.

The old woman smiles, half pleased and half arrogant. Aemond restrains his desire to roll his good eye at her.

“Please, my prince, Lady Rhaena, join us at the table of honor.”

Aemond walks after his cousin and sits at the table, relieved to not be next to the old woman or the High Septon. He couldn't feign goodwill all morning towards the former and he'd had enough of the latter all week.

Beside him, Rhaena chats with Lady Blackwood, but he does not listen to the conversation, his eye examining the place in detail.

“My prince,” Tyland Lannister greets him and takes the seat next to him, “What a pleasant surprise to have you here.”

“Lord Lannister,” Aemond nods.

Tyland smirks. Aemond turns to him, “I did not know you enjoyed these kinds of events.”

“Certainly not as much as my brother did,” he admits, “But we all have our responsibilities, as you well know.”

"Indeed"

They both talk for a few minutes about the last meeting of the privy council until the High Septon, who is now standing next to the Mother's altar, breaks the conversation, beginning the last ritual of the Festival.

Silence hangs over the room, the music that was playing softly in the background stops and everyone seems attentive to the religious man's words. Aemond glances over the guests, recognizing most of them as members of the kingdom's most prominent houses. A group of dark-haired women sitting at the end of the table to his right catch his attention. Surely, they couldn't be...

The applause of the guests brings him out of his observation and Aemond notices Rhaena standing next to him, and looking at him briefly. He imitates her action and follows her until they reach the Mother's altar.

“And now,” the High Septon seems more excited than the prince has ever seen him in his life, “It is time to adorn the kind Mother in her best finery and take her to the Sept, from where she will continue to watch over us and bless us with her mercy, until it is turn to worship her again."

They stand on either side of the statue and Aemond watches a page-boy hold a crystal box from which Rhaena takes out a golden cloak, clearly exquisitely crafted.

The music is heard again, the court singing the main hymn of the Mother. Aemond sings inertly along with them, his voice barely above a whisper, his eye focused on Rhaena and her task. Noticing her small hands as they place the cloak on the stone back of the statue, delicately securing it with the gold clasp and skillfully arranging the folds. When it seems to be finished, her fingers caress the edge of the cloak from top to bottom, as if feeling the softness of the fabric and the embroidery. Aemond is unable to look away, enthralled with the almost mechanical gesture of Rhaena's hand, with her pleased expression and the soft smile on her face.

“It is your turn, my prince.”

The High Septon gives him an encouraging smile and Aemond begins to say the prayer to the Mother. The words are so engraved in his mind that he recites them without problems, his gaze still fixed on his betrothed, who looks away from the Mother and looks at him too, with a neutral expression that is difficult for him to read.

When Aemond finishes, the page-boy hands him a parchment with special requests which Aemond reads in his most solemn voice.

“What an honor for all of us that the Crown has participated in this ritual!” the High Septon finally says, “May the Mother be generous to Lady Rhaena and the prince and grant them prosperity in their union. Now, all united with Faith in the seven, we raise our prayers to the kind Mother, knowing that she listens to us and grants what we need.”

The High Septon invites all those present to approach the statue and bow before the end of the ceremony. As the attendants advance in an orderly line, the old man urges Rhaena and Aemond to touch the Mother's mantle and offer their petitions.

“Remember that she will listen to you with special attention for having dressed her,” he tells them with a fatherly smile.

Aemond does not respond, just looks at the statue and frowns, not believing the man's words. Perhaps there had been a time when he had believed in the gods, but the war had changed his perspective on many issues, including the Faith. He was not going to ask for anything because he knew he would not get an answer.

In front of him, Rhaena touches the hem of the cloak again, her gaze fixed on the statue, her expression half curious and half ironic. When her gaze drifts back to Aemond, she raises her eyebrow in his direction and gives him a small smile. Aemond can't help but remember her words from the previous afternoon.

Maybe I’ll ask to be a young widow.

Was she also thinking about that? Would she have dared to make such a request? The prince feels the sudden urge to ask her, but he only holds back a smile and looks away.

When the line of ladies and lords finally ends, servants of the faith dressed in brown robes appear to carry the Mother's altar on litters to the sept. The statue is bid farewell to the Fortress amid applause and songs.

And Aemond feels a weight lift from his shoulders. The damned Festival was finally over. He had fulfilled his duty and could consider his participation a resounding success. Surely his mother would be pleased with his performance all week.

Rhaena's sigh brings him back to the reality of the party. The music changes to a much livelier one, and Lady Blackwood takes the floor, thanking and inviting everyone to enjoy and dance.

“Rhaena!”

The Westerling girl approaches them and links her arm with his betrothed.

“Marianne, finally,” Rhaena's voice sounds relieved.

“You have no idea who is here,” the lady's voice cuts off as she notices Aemond's gaze, her face turning red.

Rhaena looks at her curiously before turning to him, “Cousin. I would tell you that it is our duty to dance since we are the guests of honor, but since you have made your position clear about dancing, I will not insist on it.”

“Am I supposed to thank you for that?”

She laughs and rolls her eyes, “If you'll excuse me, I'll go greet the other guests.”

Without waiting for him to give his approval, Rhaena takes the arm of her friend and they get lost among the guests who have already taken the dance floor.

With a growl of dissatisfaction Aemond returns to the table, where Tyland Lannister joins him a few moments later. The conversation flows between them and the prince enjoys a glass of wine while his good eye scans the crowd from time to time looking for his cousin. It is not difficult for him to find her, and every time he does, she is surrounded by ladies and lords with whom she converses animatedly.

“I am sorry if I am keeping you here, my prince,” says Lord Tyland, “Perhaps you would prefer to be with your betrothed.”

Aemond turns his gaze to the man, feeling irritated by the comment, “I am right where I want to be, Lord Tyland.”

Lannister nods thoughtfully, “Have you already come to terms with the idea that Lady Rhaena will be your wife?”

“Mmm,” he makes a noise. He knows that the man is in no way trying to mortify him. He has known Lord Lannister since he was a child and is one of his greatest allies. He was loyal to Aegon's cause during the war and much of the kingdom's treasure was saved thanks to him. Still, he finds himself tempted to tell him to remember his place because of his bold question.

“I am sorry if I overstepped with my words,” the man seems to have guessed the course of his thoughts, “I simply thought it appropriate to emphasize that Lady Rhaena can be an important ally of the Crown.”

“Yes, I've heard that,” he responds almost with a growl.

Lannister does not give up. “Look at her, my prince,” the man points with his glass to the center of the dance floor, where Rhaena is dancing with a knight of House Whent, “Everyone likes her, they seem to want to please her and seek her approval.”

Aemond doesn't respond, just watches his cousin take the knight's hand and walk around him, smile wide and face clearly rosy.

“Did you know that Lady Blackwood is a Tully by birth?”

"Was she?"

“Now you are here, at her party, and this could be the beginning of a path of more… friendly relations between the Crown and the Riverlands”

“My brother Daeron has already managed to reaffirm our authority with the Tullys”

“Perhaps, and I hope his intervention has a lasting effect, but it doesn't hurt to cultivate this new connection with such an influential lady.”

Aemond's irritation grows. Rhaena had told him practically the same thing, as had his mother. He was a prince, he didn't need anyone's approval, everyone should rather seek his. Of course, he holds regards for the most noble and important houses, but their representatives, with few exceptions, were so boring or idiotic that he gave up maintaining any relationship with them.

And not to mention the ladies. Most of them seemed to shy away from his presence as they found him too intimidating. Or that's what he preferred to think. Sometimes it was better to convince himself of such reasoning rather than to face their curious or pitiful looks when they noticed the patch and the scar.

Vhagar. He has Vhagar. And he doesn't need anyone else.

“Lady Rhaena can be very useful. Your great-grandmother, Queen Alysanne, understood well the importance of sweetening the ears of certain relevant people in the kingdom. She and the old king found the charisma they possessed very advantageous because they knew that they could not conquer everything with fire and blood."

“Thank you, Lord Tyland, I know the history of my house well,” he replies coldly.

Lannister sips from his wine glass and nods, “Take advantage of what Lady Rhaena can give you, my prince. More than just heirs, benefit from her popularity and use it to help the Crown further cement its power. It is the smartest thing you can do, after all, why are marriages if not beneficial?”

Aemond ponders his words as he drinks from his cup. He must admit that Lannister's last point is valid. Their future union, like all of the noble houses of the kingdom, is one of convenience. He might as well use Rhaena to his liking. Use the… what had she called it? Social influence? Entirely for his convenience.

As his gaze searches for Rhaena again, his eye falls upon the dark-haired women. This time, however, he manages to see their faces without problem. A lump forms in his throat as he recognizes them, “What are they doing here?”

Lannister follows the direction of his gaze, “They are invited to your wedding, my prince.”

Aemond snorts indignantly, “Did you think it was appropriate to invite my former betrothed and her sisters to my wedding?”

Tyland has the grace to look uncomfortable and shift in his chair, “They are the queen's sisters, their father is the lord of the Stormlands, it would have been rude not to.”

Aemond empties his wine glass, his gaze turning away from the women. Their presence in the Fortress is already beginning to make him uncomfortable. Seeing Floris Baratheon was surely going to bring up the issue of the broken betrothal again, the disgrace he had caused by breaking his word and starting a relationship with the witch of Harrenhall. His hands clench into fists. The rumors would certainly start again. If they had ever stopped.

“Perhaps it would be prudent to converse with the Lady Floris and offer your apology, my prince.”

Prudent. Yes of course. Aemond makes a disdainful little noise, but deep down he knows that Lannister is right. And he knows his mother will probably ask him to do the same.

“Maybe later,” he replies simply.

Lannister does not insist because the music stops and Lady Blackwood speaks again, inviting everyone present to offer their donations to the Faith.

Several of the guests, most of them men who are heads of their houses, instruct their servants to leave valuable-looking chests on a long table placed on the other side of the room.

“Lady Blackwood chose the right moment to stop the music,” says Rhaena, who has returned to the table and sits next to him, grimacing, “These shoes are not comfortable at all.”

“Was there a need to dance with half the attendees?” he asks coldly

His voice amazes her, but Rhaena shakes her head, “I like to dance,” she responds simply before picking up a glass of wine and taking a few sips.

Aemond watches her out of the corner of his eye. Her heated cheeks, her heavy breathing and the droplets of sweat beading her forehead. The prince suddenly wonders if his skin feels warmer than usual to the touch.

“You are a great dancer, Lady Rhaena,” Tyland says.

“Thank you, Lord Lannister,” she smiles kindly at him.

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go offer my contribution to the Faith.”

The Master of Coin leaves them and Aemond shifts in his chair, moving a little closer to Rhaena, “You did not mention this part when you told me about the party.”

“I guess I forgot,” she shrugs, but giggles and then shakes her head, as if to clear her mind.

Aemond can't help but ask, “What is it?”

Rhaena bites her lip for a moment, “I just remembered something Marianne's aunt told her and she repeated to me,” Aemond looks at her expectantly, “Basically that this is just a show for the court to clear their conscience by offering money to the Faith in exchange for forgiveness”

“If so, the court has many sins to atone for,” he responds, looking at the long line of gifts.

“Oh you have no idea,” she repeats with another giggle.

Aemond raises an eyebrow in her direction, and Rhaena bites her lip again, as if debating whether to continue or not. At last her resolve gives way, and she moves closer to her cousin, speaking softly, “Lady Rosby, for example.”

“What about her?”

“Her dress is much looser than the ones she usually wears, they say she hides a growing belly under it, and that is why she and Lord Manderly's son had to rush the wedding.”

"That would be…"

“And Lord Fossoway,” she doesn't let him finish, “The entire Court whispers about his shameful behavior and his fondness for the establishments on the Street of Silk. And there is also Lord Grafton's youngest son, who has been squandering his fortune on gambling and dog fighting.”

“How do you know all this?”

“People tell me these things,” she responds matter-of-factly with a shrug.

Aemond remembers Lord Tyland's words from a few minutes ago. Maybe it is a good idea to use his cousin and all the knowledge she is clearly accumulating.

“We should contribute too,” he says after a few seconds, pointing to the table full of presents.

“Yes, probably so,” she admits.

“Take care to find something appropriate to offer to the Faith. I will let you search the royal treasury for something worthy of our family.”

His words have the desired effect on Rhaena, who at first seems amazed, but then clearly pleased with the task he gives her. Aemond congratulates himself internally. Putting his cousin's skills to work, subtly directing them toward appropriate and convenient causes, would surely be simple.

“Will you really let me take care of such matter?”

“If it's a lot of work and you're not willing…”

“No, no, I'll be happy to do it,” she is quick to respond, “Thank you, cousin.”

Her smile widens and her violet eyes shine with contained emotion. Aemond feels his heart skip a beat when she gently squeezes his hand for just a few seconds.

Lady Blackwood interrupts the moment by announcing that the performance of some famous puppeteers is about to begin. The guests then disperse, some heading towards the stage Aemond had noticed upon entering the hall, and others remaining in small groups as they chat.

“We should go, the show will start soon,” Rhaena tells him.

“Not exactly my kind of fun.”

“You cannot sit here for the entire party, cousin, it doesn't reflect well on the guests of honor,” she responds, standing up, “Come, they come from the free cities, I assure you they are better than the ones they have here.”

Aemond ends up accepting. Besides, Tyland Lannister still hasn't returned and he doesn't feel like talking to anyone else.

***

A renewed round of laughter and applause echoes through the room.

Rhaena also joins in the cheers for the comedians. Beside her, Aemond remains almost stoic. She gets the impression that he hasn't enjoyed the show too much.

And why would you care if such is the case? She wonders as the men come out from backstage and greet the attendees.

It is been a splendid afternoon. She has danced and laughed as much as she hoped to since she found out about the party. She has met new lords of Westeros, new ladies who would perhaps become future friends, and has shared slightly snide comments with Marianne about potential suitors and various ladies' dress choices.

“We should go listen to the bard that Lady Blackwood hired,” proposes her friend, who walks beside her.

“Will you come with us, cousin?” she turns to Aemond. He grimaces in her direction and Rhaena smiles, “Yeah, I figured as much.”

Aemond simply nods in their direction and she watches him return to the table, where he joins the conversation with Tyland Lannister and Lord Hayford.

Rhaena links her arm with Marianne and they go in the direction of where a group, mostly women, has gathered to listen to the bard.

“Lady Rhaena”

The voice of a tall young woman with very black hair and deep blue eyes stops her. Rhaena offers her a kind smile as they walk towards her.

“Lady Baratheon,” she greets.

“It is an honor to finally meet you, cousin,” the young woman offers a sideways smile, “I hope I can call you that, considering we share ancestors.”

“Of course,” Rhaena nods and continues, “This is Marianne Westerling, my friend and lady-in-waiting.”

“My pleasure, Lady Westerling. I am Floris Baratheon.”

“Lady Floris,” Marianne greets, “I thought I saw your sisters here as well.”

“Indeed,” Floris steps away for a few moments and returns with two other young women with similar features, “These are Cassandra and Maris, my older sisters.”

After the usual pleasantries, Rhaena doesn't know what to say. She is usually very good in social situations, but something in the look of the Baratheon girls does not offer her much confidence, “Cousins, I would like…”

“I am sorry, Lady Rhaena, we should have started our conversation by congratulating you,” it is Floris who speaks again.

“Congratulating me?”

“For your wedding to Prince Aemond,” Maris responds.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Rhaena nods, “Thank you.”

“I assume you are aware that he was betrothed to me at the beginning of the war,” Floris rests her blue eyes on Rhaena’s.

“I heard it, yes.”

“He made quite an impression when he arrived at Storm's End offering our father a betrothal.”

“I imagine so,” she responds, trying to sound curt. She doesn't know where this conversation is going.

“Of course, being four of us, he had a difficult choice before him,” Floris takes a step towards Rhaena, openly examining her figure from head to toe, “He kissed the four of us and choose me.”

"What?" Her question sounds like a gasp.

“Prince Aemond kissed the four of us on the lips,” Floris repeats, her eyes shining with malice, “My kiss clearly stood out above my sisters' because I was the chosen one.”

Rhaena does not know what to say. What is she supposed to answer? She is under the impression that the Baratheon girls are only seeking to torment her with their words. But she could not care less. What difference does it make if Aemond has kissed them all?

Despite saying that to herself, a bitter feeling runs through her body and her gaze wanders to the main table for a moment.

“You clearly didn't stand out too much if the prince ended up breaking the betrothal.”

It is Marianne who responds, squeezing Rhaena’s hand affectionately.

“That is not what happened!” Floris hisses.

“Cousins,” Rhaena cuts in, clearing her throat, “I am glad you could come in time for my wedding. “It will be a pleasure for the prince and for me to have you all here with us.” Her eyes land on Floris's.

“We came to see our sister,” Maris replies.

“But perhaps I will take the opportunity to reminisce about old times with the prince,” Floris smiles wryly, “After what I heard about him, I will surely be able to visit him tonight in his chambers and…”

“Enough, Floris,” Cassandra interrupts, “I am sorry, Lady Rhaena, excuse my sisters' impertinence.”

“Don't worry, Lady Cassandra, now, if you'll excuse me.”

Rhaena walks with Marianne until they make their way through the crowd and listens to the bard, although she cannot concentrate on the man's songs.

"Are you okay?" Her friend asks quietly, looking at her with concern.

“Yes, of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Her voice sounds squeaky, so she clears her throat.

“Those Baratheon girls were very rude,” Marianne snorts.

“They are just…”

Rhaena doesn't finish. She doesn't know what to say. What did Floris feel? Jealousy? Rage? Disappointment?

“I know, they shouldn't have talked to you like that anyway, they clearly don't know their place,” anger is clear in her friend's voice.

“It is okay, it does not matter,” she assures her, “Let's forget their words, they just said stupid things.”

But said is easier than done, and even though she tries to enjoy the bard's art, her mind keeps repeating the words of Floris Baratheon. Was it true that Aemond had kissed them? Contrary to her will, the image of the Baratheon sisters standing next to the prince, waiting to be kissed, appears in her mind. A shiver runs through her body and, angrily, Rhaena directs her gaze to the sisters, who are whispering across the room.

“Let’s just go, we should eat something,” Marianne tells her a while later.

Rhaena nods and they say goodbye near the high table. Sighing, she walks over to her seat and helps herself to pies and fruit dipped in honey, grateful that Aemond pays no attention to her and continues conversing with the other council members.

More harshly than she should, Rhaena spears a piece of fig and puts it in her mouth. Although it tastes good, she does not particularly enjoy the flavor, but instead eats mechanically until her appetite it’s settled.

"What is the matter?"

Aemond's voice takes her by surprise. Rhaena turns to him, who looks at her with a frown.

“Do not know what you mean”

“Did the bard perform so poorly that you are suddenly in a bad mood?”

Rhaena bites her tongue to avoid responding with a curse. And to avoid asking what she really wants to know. Was it true that he had kissed them all? Thinking about his kiss, her eyes drift helplessly to Aemond's lips. Long, thin lips, what would his lips taste like? The thought surprises her and she looks away from his face, drinking from her glass of wine and trying to push those thoughts from her mind.

Fucking Floris Baratheon, she thinks to herself.

Fortunately, the music resumes and Rhaena excuses herself to go dancing. It doesn't take long for her to find a dance partner, so she tries to focus only on the beat of the music, although she feels her cousin's gaze on her at times, watching her as is his habit.

The songs follow each other in a cheerful rhythm and she continues dancing and jumping, although her movements are rather mechanical, her good spirits from a while ago spoiled. Rhaena excuses herself and heads to the side of the dance floor, suddenly feeling dizzy and fanning herself with her hand, internally cursing her tight corset.

On the other side Marianne catches her attention and questions her with her gaze, so Rhaena makes an appeasing gesture with her hand, not wanting her friend to stop dancing with Ser Simon Dondarrion, the handsome knight who seems very fond of Marianne.

“May I, Lady Rhaena?”

The presence of Lord Tarly, who extends his hand toward her, is unexpected. Rhaena, still not having fully caught her breath, considers rejecting the man, but in the end gives up.

“With pleasure, my lord.”

The man smiles good-naturedly and guides her back to the dance floor, “What do you think of King's Landing so far, Lady Rhaena?”

“The city has a particular charm”

Lord Tarly widens his smile, “Yes, I agree, although the lands of the Reach are, in my opinion, the most beautiful in all of Westeros.”

Lord Tarly, who is not exactly an old man, but who does have a fairly prominent belly, moves slowly, so Rhaena keeps up with him and tries to calm herself while breathing slowly.

“I do not doubt it, my lord, although I could not say that I’ve been in that part of the realm.”

“You should visit us, my lady, it would be an honor to welcome you to Horn Hill.”

“Perhaps once my dragon is bigger, I will ride on her back and take upon your word, Lord Tarly.”

“You would do well, the Reach is your ally,” he replies, “You have many friends in our lands.” The man fixes his brown eyes on her and Rhaena has the impression that his words hide a greater meaning. “We loyal men do not forget that the iron throne belonged to Queen Rhaenyra and her offspring.”

A lump forms in Rhaena's throat, who just studies the man intently.

“Fear not, Lady Rhaena, as I told you, we are loyal to…”

“The crown belongs to my cousin,” she cuts him off, trying to measure her words, “Aegon is king and I am to marry Prince Aemond in a few days.”

“A true disgrace, if I may,” he replies, “Your father, Prince Daemon, would never have permitted such an affront to his daughter.”

“My father is dead, my lord. The war is over"

The man stares at her again before speaking, “As I told you, Lady Rhaena, the throne belongs to the offspring of Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

The girl wants to reply, she wants to tell him that such offspring does not exist, that her brothers are all dead... but she prefers to remain silent.

“Fear not,” Lord Tarly repeats, “Lady Jeyne is a good friend and ally. We are watching over you, don't forget it.”

Rhaena is grateful for the song to end and she gives a quick bow before turning her back on the man.

Her head begins to pound as hard as her heart as she makes her way through the guests. Her hands, suddenly drenched in cold sweat, are almost shaking. What had the man implied? What did he intend to achieve with his words? Was this perhaps a game played by the dowager queen to test her loyalty? Rhaena looks around her, but no one seems to pay her much attention. Not even Aemond, who continues conversing with Lord Lannister.

Her words sounded too much like Lady Jeyne's, a small voice inside her whispers.

She had not wanted to think more about her conversation with the Lady of the Vale before she left the Eyrie, Rhaena did not want to know more about wars or confrontations. She just wanted peace. She did not want…

“Cousin, wait, please.”

Cassandra Baratheon grabs her arm, stopping her.

“Lady Cassandra, please, I do not wish to continue our conversation from earlier,” her voice sounds harsher than she intended, but she does not care.

“Please allow me to apologize on behalf of my sisters,” insists the young woman, “The way they expressed themselves was embarrassing.”

“Even so, you let them expand as they pleased for a long time before shutting them up.”

“Excuse me, Lady Rhaena, I know I was wrong,” she admits.

Rhaena taps her foot on the floor, eager to get out of the conversation, “Very well, you need not say more, Lady Cassandra, I will forget your sisters' impertinence.”

“I would like to assure you that we have no intention of tormenting you, we came here not only for your wedding,” Cassandra seems not to notice Rhaena's unwillingness to continue talking, “But also to see our sister Ellyn. We have been very concerned about her health”

Her words manage to calm her down a little. She had not considered the young queen into the picture, “Of course, it is understandable. I hope that Queen Ellyn continues to improve, surely your presence here will speed up her recovery."

“This is what we hope for, Lady Rhaena.”

There is a moment of silence between the two. Rhaena nods and prepares to leave, when she speaks again.

“And furthermore, I assure you that I will keep a close eye on Floris. She won't dare visit the prince at all. My sister likes to talk, but she wouldn't dare disgrace our father's name in such a way."

Perfect, Rhaena thinks, just what she needed. Cassandra Baratheon reminding her of such an unpleasant comment.

“Or disgrace you, at the same time. It is punishment enough, I believe, having to marry the prince."

"I beg your pardon?" Rhaena can't believe her ears

“Don't get me wrong, cousin, I don't mean to offend you. I only verbalize what the majority in the kingdom think. Prince Aemond is hardly a good choice for a husband, a vow-breaker as well as a kinslayer.”

Rhaena knows that well, but at hearing the words from Cassandra Baratheon's mouth, it is not sympathy that is born inside her, rather suspicion and anger.

“You shouldn't say such things about the prince,” she replies.

She seems oblivious to her comment, “Plus there is the matter of his appearance. I know it wasn't her fault because he was just a child,” Cassandra smiles at her and Rhaena is able to notice the malice in her expression, “But that grotesque scar deforms his face. And that eyepatch is in such bad taste,” the girl shudders, “A shame that a beauty like you is wasted on Aemond Targaryen.”

For the second time that afternoon, Rhaena doesn't know what to say. She is not entirely convinced that she heard correctly the words that came out of her cousin's mouth.

“I see that you are as malicious as your sisters,” she finally says, her voice hard because of the displeasure she feels inside her, “Be careful, Lady Cassandra, control your tongue or you will end up facing the consequences.”

The Baratheon girl's expression falters for a few moments and Rhaena feels a hint of discomfort, but she simply glares at her before striding in the opposite direction.

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

@ammo23 @qyburnsghost @niocel @ithoughtulikedme @avidreader73 @jenmakeusin10 @morninglia @missing-loki @soyotelol (let me know if you want to be tagged)

Read on AO3

[ggomos-maribat]

4 | about the Paris Mademoiselle

Part 4 of Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Dead | Masterlist

After hearing out Adrien's suggestion on where to have a meal, Tim and Jason ended up in the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

Might as well check out where she lived, right? Tim looked around the homey place as the overhead bell chimed behind them. It was small, simple: glass cases enclosing an assortment of doughnuts, croissants, danishes, eclairs, cookies, pies, and even single-tiered cakes. There was a tip jar next to the register labeled with a cute scribble, positioned next to a statuette of the Eiffel. Warm scents wafted from the kitchen at the back, and Tim could even pick up the faint smell of caffeine from the coffee-making station.

He and Jason took their seats near the register, allowing Tim to peer at the picture frames hung up on the wall. Though most of the photos were mundane, one stood out at the center: a picture of Marinette standing behind the counter, dressed in an apron and a bright grin.

"You're still not allowed to drink coffee," Jason said suddenly.

"I wasn't going to." He rolled his eyes.

From looking around, there didn't seem to be too many 'hints' of Marinette around aside from the photos.  The place seemed moderately busy, with a short-haired woman—Sabine Cheng perhaps?—manning the register.

Tim lined up behind two women pointing at the pastries. The blonde one wearing a blue dress pointed at the glass. "Hey, those pink macarons! Weren't they her favorite?"

The other woman, cropped pixie cut, elbowed her companion, hissing, "Rory!"

Then, she turned to Sabine Cheng, "I'm really sorry, Mrs. Cheng."

"It's quite alright, dears." There was a fond sparkle on the eyes of the older woman. "You're right, those macarons were her favorite."

Tim and Jason shared a look. 'Her' . . . did that mean Marinette? Quickly, he took his phone out to make a quick profile search—the two customers turned out to be former students of Francois Dupont, but not part of Marinette's class: Mireille Caquet and Aurore Beauréal. Both were based outside of Paris but still within Europe, and seemed to be back in the city for a brief visit.

"We'll take those macarons, Mrs. Cheng." Aurore smiled apologetically. "And two coffees, please."

"Of course. It's on the house, girls."

Mireille paused from reaching for her wallet. "No, you don't have to!"

"I insist. You're only here for a few days, yes? Consider it a welcome back home."

After the girls politely extended their thanks, Tim ordered lunch for himself and Jason, whilst paying close attention to the macaron selection. Pink strawberry macarons, huh? He thought. That does suit her.

He lent Jason his phone for him to take a look at his brief research about the two women. "They knew her, I think." Tim stole a glance at the next table. "Not very close, but she helped them out during their reporter gigs."

"There's nothing out of place around here," Jason commented as he idly read over the profiles.

"One camera pointing at the front door, and one at the back door. There are barely any blind spots, but if she did slip past surveillance, the streets on the way to bridge should've caught her at least." Tim's expression twisted.

"Tampering?"

"Doubt it. It doesn't look edited." Tim shrugged. "I asked Babs to be sure and she says so."

He took out the small wrinkled list from his pocket and cleanly crossed out Adrien's name. Can we ask those two women? It didn't feel right interrogating them out of the blue, especially when they were in Marinette's family bakery, with her mother close by. Still, it was an opportunity for them.

Jason even looked like he was ready to ask.

"Jay, come on, we have to think this through."

"Dickie would ask if he were here."

"Dick's a smooth-talker. We're not."

Jason tilted his head. "We have Adrien's excuse."

"Er, hello? It's still bad timing."

"Fine. Let's just go over what we have then."

"She was bullied, even though the school records said otherwise; she was involved in multiple extracurriculars; and according to both her friend and parents, she wasn't acting odd before her death," Tim listed off from the top of his head.

"If she wanted to expose Lilia, then . . . isn't that a motive?"

How much of that conflict could've elevated into murder? Tim couldn't piece it together. He didn't want to rule out everything else just because Lilia Ross was so easy to accuse. "Tricky part is that Lilia actually has an alibi that time."

Jason's eyebrows raised. "What?"

"Two years ago, she was just starting things out with her brand and during the week Marinette died, she was on another part of France, having product meetings with her suppliers." And that alibi was airtight.

"Okay, fine, let's back up. The rest of the class was on Lila's side. Is it possible that it was any of them?" Jason suggested.

"They don't exactly have alibis, but I can't track down where exactly each of them were on that day either." Tim glanced at the other table, where Sabine Cheng served the girls their orders, plus free croissants as well. "And going back to the details of it, could they have pulled off something as—er—clean of evidence as that?"

"A lot of them are rich kids, you know."

"Fine, then say we suspect someone else in their class, do you really think any of them would have the heart to do . . . that to their classmate?"

"Who else could've had a vendetta against her?

One name occurred in Tim's mind, a flash of dark purple and gentle wings. He hesitated a little before saying, "Hawkmoth."

"Hawkmoth?"

"That's the only one I can think of, okay!" Tim shifted in his seat, and then lowered his voice. "Apart from Adrien, Marinette had been the only one to never have been akumatized in their class. That kind of strength to resist akumas is something Hawkmoth would prey on."

"I think you overlooked one problem here, Timbers." Jason looked unimpressed. "Hawkmoth was defeated five months before she died. Ladybug herself said that his Miraculous was taken from him."

"I don't know, maybe he's still a powerful person behind the mask. Or like, it was an accomplice."

It was tricky that Hawkmoth's real identity wasn't ever revealed despite his defeat. It caused quite an uproar within Paris, but Ladybug was set on that decision. As for the reason, all Tim could think of is that the heroes were trying to avoid backlash on whoever was close to the 'real' Hawkmoth.

"You're saying he was fixated on this one girl he can't akumatize?" asked Jason.

"Are you saying that your theory is more likely?" Tim retorted back.

"I'm saying we need so much more evidence to figure this thing out."

Tim sighed audibly. It was true that they were fully basing their guesses on speculations. If they could dig a little bit deeper, they should find a clue that leads to the truth.

"Monsieurs."

Tim stiffened all over in just a span of a second. Were we too loud? When he looked up, both Aurore and Mireille were standing by their table. He quickly checked if Sabine Cheng had heard anything, but she seemed preoccupied with the pastries, fortunately.

"Were you talking about . . ." Aurore whispered. "Marinette?"

"No," Tim lamely replied.

Mireille crossed her arms. "You were. We heard. What is going on?"

"There has been an anonymous request to reopen the investigation," Jason lied smoothly, eyes flickering over to the counter. "But you must understand that her parents are not to be involved."

"What is the reason for this 'reopening'?"

Before Tim or Jason could say anything, Aurore spoke: "Lila. It's Lilia Ross, isn't it?"

"We're not on her side, if that's what you're thinking," said Tim hastily. "Maybe there's something you know?"

Both girls looked at each other, as if sharing a silent conversation. Then, Mireille answered morosely, "We wish we knew more. We couldn't pry into it because she closed herself off from us—even Marc Anciel, one of our common friends."

"Did you know what Lilia Ross did to her?"

"We saw what she did," Aurore said bitterly. "Poor Mari couldn't even catch a break; she was never herself anymore."

"We could've done more," Mireille mumbled. "We tried looking for more information about her death but . . . there's nothing. We even asked Monsieur Raincomprix—that's the father of one of our schoolmates, he was part of the investigation team—and he never said a word."

Aurore nodded, "No one from the police disclosed it."

"Why did they leave the case?" Tim asked. "Did her parents ask . . .?"

Yet again, the two shared a look before Aurore said, "There was someone who asked for the investigation to be closed. Her parents had no choice but to consent to it."

"There was someone pulling the strings from behind?" Jason frowned.

Mireille pinched the bridge of her nose. "Looked like it. That's the only thing we know." She heaved out a sigh. "Actually . . . there is one person who might know or has the means to find out. We can't approach them because, well, it is simply too awkward but maybe the two of you will have more luck. She actually flew over from New York yesterday."

"Who?" Tim leaned in.

"The editor-in-chief of Paris Mademoiselle, Chloe Bourgeois."

***

"What's CEO Timothy Drake-Wayne doing investigating the death of a French teenager?"

Tim internally winced, not anticipating that Chloe Bourgeois had recognized him. The blonde had surprisingly let them into her office (which was also surprisingly extremely messy) next to Le Grand Paris Hotel. Their encounter reminded Tim of a principal's confrontation with students—Chloe's eyes were unwaveringly cold towards them.

"He's just tagging along for my case." Jason brandished a fake ID, naming himself as a private consultant. "We're here at an anonymous request to re-investigate the incident. We want to ask you about Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"Who requested it?"

"We can't say—"

"Was it Adrien?"

Jason shook his head calmly. "We can't disclose any details."

Chloe sighed in exasperation. Like with Adrien, the exhaustion behind her face but she hid it more loosely. Even deeper than that, Tim saw fatigue, restlessness, jetlag, a hint of sadness.

"She was my classmate," Chloe began. "Well, I think she should be more than that to me. I've known her since kindergarten. She was always top of the class, all smiles, kind to a fault, so much of a klutz, habitually late . . ." She paused. "I was just her bully."

She has that deep faraway gaze. If there was anyone who didn't bother to hide the hurt from losing Marinette, it was her. Chloe Bourgeois. "I've known her since kindergarten but we were never friends. It's my petty jealousy's fault, I don't know. Even if I mocked her so many times, she always fought back in some way. She had such a sharp tongue. She despised me as much as I despised her.

"Did you know she had a crush on Adrien? I bet you didn't. It was embarrassingly massive that she'd trip all over the place. I'd pick on her about it." She fiddled with a button on her blazer. "The crush mellowed out over time but—but everything about her mellowed out so much. I don't know why I did anything but I asked my Dad how she died. No matter how much I begged, he said 'his hands were tied'. Believe me, my father always gave anything I asked.

"You won't believe how devastated everyone was when she was gone. My dad cried. Hell, my mother shed a tear. Andre the ice cream man cried. Nadja Chamack broke down on live TV. Everyone outside our class cried. Her friends who abandoned her had the audacity to fucking cry. It was like the whole city was grieving. You know why? Because Hawkmoth was already gone at that time. Everyone thought it was finally our time to heal but nooo, they didn't see how much it took a toll on those who barely kept it together the whole time.

"Marinette was never akumatized. She's been targeted by so many akumas, had so much done to her but I never once saw her break. Not even close. Of course she wasn't fucking okay enduring all of that. Of course I had to be the idiot who never tried to apologize to her," Chloe spat out. "There. There's my statement."

Tim felt so pinned down by her gaze. The irony . . . it was Chloe who talked more about her than Adrien.

Jason cleared his throat. "There's one more thing. Lilia Ross—"

"Lila?" She sneered. "No, don't get me started on her. You should be smarter than believing that stupid act she puts on."

"Did her transfer . . . change Marinette somehow?"

"Uh, yeah! She practically lost all her friends," she scoffed. "I'd say everything was going downhill at about Quatriéme, but steeply when Lila showed up."

"Why? What was in Quatriéme?"

Chloe raised a judgmental eyebrow.

"When Hawkmoth first showed up," Tim mumbled. "Did you collect other evidence aside from asking your father? Didn't you ever want to know why?"

"It's useless. I have other things taking up my time right now." But in Chloe's eyes, Tim could clearly see that she wanted to know. Desperately.

"Besides," Chloe added, "My dad's not mayor anymore. I can't exactly pull any strings."

"Do you know anyone else we can ask?" Jason questioned.

"Not really." Her voice turned soft. "I'm not in close contact with anyone anymore. But there's something I've been wondering about myself, and maybe you can look into it."

Chloe reached up to rub her shoulder. "Those rumors online about Lila. They turned up out of the blue, didn't they? Now, who's exactly behind all of that?"

Taglist: @hammalammadamdam @toodaloo-kangaroo @missmadwoman @afanofmanyships @atomicherringpersonjudge-blog @wheredostarsgowhenyoudie

[berglietz]

Seasons Greasons: A Meta Analysis based on Caspar's Culinary Palate + Return Gift For Shez's Whistle

AKA: no one should ever 'jokingly' challenge me to write a meta to my irl face. take these 1k words now

THE BACKSTORY:

May 6th, Baltimore Inner Harbor. It was a lovely day—by which I mean the sky was grey and gloomy and decided to start spitting a fine mist down from the clouds as soon as Lucius and I stepped out of the light rail and started our trek toward our destination. Our destination being a birthday celebration for Erica, which obviously made the day lovely regardless of the weather. At this point we had already gotten past the 'hello's and reciprocal 'oh god you really are shorter than i remember's, and had settled into our table at the cafe. Inevitably, the conversation quickly turned to Fire Emblem. We are who we are.

Playthroughs of Warriors: Three Hopes entered the scene, and then discussions of the Merc Whistle mechanic. "I haven't given mine away yet." I said. "Don't they give you a return gift that you can wear as an accessory to use their special ability?"

I pulled out my phone. I learned that Caspar's return gift to Shez was called Seasoning Set. Across the table, past the strangely shaped flasks of hot water and growing number of drained shirley temple glasses, N "Njamin" Von TOAmod smiled at me and said "I expect a meta post about Caspar's seasoning set on the dash by [due date]*" *I do not remember the exact phrasing, nor the initial due date. I am going to say it was 'next month', that way I don't get any of my extremely real roleplayer points docked for tardiness.

And thus, I was committed to the bit. Straight up married to it. Welcome to the wedding. The reception is catered, obviously, and we'll be serving—

Well. I'm getting to that.

THE SEASONING SET

(This is a crunchy screenshot that I cropped myself from my own Switch. Forgive me)

The details of note to me are:

Clarifying that you have matched your bestie/S-support equivalent's sentimental gift with something you "don't need" is so rude LMFAO. I'm glad he is keeping up the same behavior from his story about a girl trying to ask him out to the Goddess Tower in Three Houses where he seems to totally misread a situation and make an ass of himself by dismissing the person/not matching their energy. Really beautiful stuff.

Multiple spices, you say? Looks like I have to come up with more than one. It's not just salt in there.

CASPAR'S COOKING SKILLS

They are bad. He has a big red downward-facing arrow next to his face in the list of candidates for cooking together in Three Houses. If you choose to let him cook anyway, he tells you his pitfalls himself:

"All right! Leave it to me! I'll fry it, grill it, and try not to burn it!" / "Sorry for making you do all the work, Professor. I mess up the ingredients every time!"

With this info, I am taking the text saying "he forgets to use spices" very literally. The impression I get is he gets so overwhelmed by multi-step cooking processes that he loses track of ingredients. He does like some spices in his food and drink, though, so I will presume that the spices in his seasoning set are ones that he would enjoy putting in his food if he ever remembered to toss them in.

THE FAVORED FLAVORS

The easiest spice choice comes directly from his favorite type of tea.

Ginger Tea: "The sharp spiciness of ginger laces the body of this tea, unforgettable and brightening."

Bam. Right there. We can put ginger on the list. For the rest, I'll take a look at the dining hall dishes he likes that fall under the Spicy category.

Sauteed Jerky: "Jerky aged in the monastery and sautéed for a delightfully salty flavor. A perfect snack to go with your favorite drink."

The description doesn't give me any seasoning beyond salt, but according to the resources on serenesforest this dish is counted as a spicy one! When I think of spicy jerky (and look up a few recipes to confirm my memories) I think of a peppery sort of sensation on the tongue—black pepper and cayenne (or other hot peppers).

Sauteed Pheasant and Eggs: "Thin slices of bird meat and shredded cabbage, mixed with scrambled eggs and sautéed with spices. Invention of a certain noble."

This one gave me no hints as to what types of spices. RIP. I relied much more heavily on googling for this one, and settled on interpreting this dish as a take on anda bhurji, maybe?? (literally 'scrambled egg'. it's an Indian scrambled egg dish). Online recipes for this one gave me spices such as turmeric, coriander, red chili, and ginger.

THE SEASONING LIST

Just to have it all in one place, here's all the hypothetical seasonings I've thrown out all put together:

Salt

Black Pepper

Ginger (mentioned x2!!)

Cayenne/Red Chili (or whatever Fodlan equivalent capsacin-haver there might be)

Turmeric

Coriander

Go forth, Shez. Make a delicious spicy scrambled egg dish. Perhaps you can share it with friends for brunch. That'd be a beautiful way to bring things full circle, don't you think?

BONUS: MY BOY HATES FISH

I just think it's so fucking funny that he hates every seafood dish. Look at this list of foods he hates.

Grilled Herring, Fish and Bean Soup, Small Fish Skewers, Spicy Fish and Turnip Stew, Onion Gratin Soup, Sweet and Salty Whitefish Sauté, Fruit and Herring Tart, Cheesy Verona Stew, Fish Sandwich, Super-Spicy Fish Dango, Pickled Seafood and Vegetables, Two-Fish Sauté, Gautier Cheese Gratin, Cabbage and Herring Stew, Bourgeois Pike, Fried Crayfish

Only three out of this list don't have something referencing fish/seafood right in the name, and two out of those three do have fish in the ingredients if you go looking:

Onion Gratin Soup: "Onions stewed with white trout and baked with a layer of cheese on top. Will warm you up from the inside out." Cheesy Verona Stew: "A rich dish consisting of verona and sautéed Teutates loach. These ingredients are boiled and served with two kinds of melted cheese."

Maybe there is something he dislikes about gratin, though, since he dislikes Gautier Cheese Gratin as well. A texture problem, perhaps? Either way, it doesn't feel as prominent a dislike as his thing with fish—the guy also hates the Fishing Float gift. Caspar is a certified fish hater. This makes his participation in the fishing tournament even funnier to me: he will straight up make an exception for his seeming disdain for fishing if it's turned into a competition he can try to win. Definitely no way he was eating his catch though. Maybe he fed it to his cat friend from his supports with Ashe, lmfao

Anyhow, I'll leave off with this silly indulgent little meta here. Thanks for playing along! ilu toa ❤

[viarayy01-blog]

Inside The Heart - Chapter 1

viarayy01

Summary:

//A human glamrocks au that involves Evan and Cassidy learning to accept the love of others, even if it’s scary//

Cassidy slammed her lunch tray against the table with a sneer. Evan jumped at the sudden noise but relaxed after catching Cassidys eye.

“You okay?” Evan asked tentatively, his voice just barely loud enough to be heard over the bustle of the lunch room as Cassidy mumbled to herself. Her crop top ruffled at the neckline as she sat.

She scoffed angrily and glared into the boy's soul. “Do I look okay, Afton?” Her hand reached for the thin plastic fork that came with the school lunch and she stabbed her dry chicken sandwich so hard that the prongs bent into a curve. Evan swallowed and made himself small.

Cassidy sighed and released the fork from her grip. “Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you.” Evan neatly folded his hands on the rickety table and nodded.

“It’s okay. So, tell me what’s up? You're usually not this angry before lunch.” Cassidy gave him a look and he metaphorically retracted the statement.

She shook her head angrily and threw her hands in the air. “It’s that Cassie girl. She tried to partner up with me in English class for our project.” Cassidy’s stomach burned just thinking about it.

Evan took a bite of his sandwich. “Did you say yes?” Cassidy started to laugh hysterically and held her hand over her face.

“Hell no! Like i’m gonna work with that prissy brat on anything. Could you imagine?” Evan drooped slightly and folded the edge of his napkin.

“She’s not so bad you know.” Cassidy wiped the gleeful tears from her eyes and caught her breath.

“Dude. Tell me you're kidding.” When Evan didn’t respond or give her a “just joking” sign, her gaze sharpened. “Evan, buddy, she’s a terrible person. Plus, she hangs out with Gregory, who you know is bad news.”

Evan knew there was no denying that. Gregory was known all through their middle school for getting into fights and causing trouble with Cassie. After enough punches and bloody noses, Gregory and Cassie were separated from each other's classes and monitored 24/7. Cassie had ended up in the majority of Cassidy’s classes and Gregory to Evans.

Even with the split between Cassie and Gregory, all four of them had one period together, science. When the two had walked into the science lab side by side, Cassidy let out an audible groan that was loud enough to get everyone’s eyes glued to her. Her face flushed to an extreme red but she didn’t apologize.

Evan had to admit, it must have been lonely to be separated from your best friend. Part of him felt pity for the pair of trouble makers. He couldn’t imagine being at school without Cassidy there by his side.

“That’s what I thought. Anyway, enough about priss and pissed, lets eat.” Cassidy said. She stared at the school lunch with detest and pushed it aside. Evan ripped his sandwich down the middle and slid her a half. “Thanks Ev.” He made a “mhm” noise and ripped the crust off the remaining chunk of his sandwich.

Cassidy chowed through her half for a moment before her eyes lit up. “Oh, I totally forgot!” She said, mouth full. “I'm not going to be here tomorrow. Just thought I’d give you a heads up.” Evan stopped eating and blinked a few times.

“What? Why?” He asked quickly, trying his best to not seem desperate. If Cassidy noticed the panic in his voice or the watering near his tear ducts, she didn’t say anything. She just scoffed and placed her sandwich down.

“Family stuff. My mom is… whatever. I don't really wanna talk about it.” She bit her lip and pressed into the soft white part of the bread with her red nails.

Evan did his best to keep composure and not break down into tears. “Oh. Okay. You’ll be here the next day though, right?” Cassidy’s snarky grin returned to her face and she giggled.

“Don’t worry Ev. You're crazy if you think you can get away from me that easily. It’s just for tomorrow.” Evan laughed a bit as well.

“Darn it.” He said, snapping his fingers. “I really thought I'd be free from your wrath.” Cassidy lunged over the table and socked him in the arm, hard enough for his sandwich to slip out of his hands. “Wait! Wait no! Don’t attack me nooooo!!” He teased, ducking out of Cassidy’s way as she went for another blow.

“You’ll never be free from my wrath.” Cassidy said solemnly. She shook her punching hand out and fell back onto her seat. “I’ll be haunting you forever Evan Afton. Even in death.”

“I sure hope so.” He replied quietly. He finished off the rest of his sandwich before the bell rang and quickly cleaned up the rest of his lunch. Everyone stood up from their tables and began moving down the rows of tables to rush to class. Cassidy swept her food off into the garbage bin and reached down to pick up her backpack that was leaned against her seat.

She swiftly flung her head upward and shoved her skull into the person behind her. Their heads clashed with a thud.

Evan looked at Cassidy as she blurted out a few curse words.

“What the hell! Watch where your goi-“ Behind her, Cassie was rubbing her cheek with a pained expression. Cassidy stopped dead in her tracks and immediately backed away. Her own hand rubbed the back part of her cranium where their heads had met. “S..sorry.” She mumbled. Her hand reached for Evans and he quietly hid behind her, snagging her hand in the process.

Cassie winced as she felt around the slowly forming bruise on her face. To her left, Gregory stood furiously with his arms crossed. Evan didn’t even realize he was there.

“You better be. Why don't you watch where you're going next time.” He bit, heat practically radiating off him. Cassie pulled his arm and rolled her eyes.

“Easy Gregory, she said sorry. It was my fault too. Sorry, Cass.” She gave a nod to Cassidy, who was still frozen stiff in front of Evan. The two moved away in the sea of students, leaving Cassidy and Evan in the mostly empty lunch room. Before he was completely out of sight, Gregory locked eyes with Evan and made an effort to look as pissed as possible. Cassidy’s hand closed tightly around Evan’s.

“Bitch.” Cassidy whispered.

— — — — — —

Evan did his best to squeeze through the crowd of students standing in front of the exit doors as Cassidy plowed forward as fast as she could. If he wasn’t holding her hand, he would’ve definitely been left behind.

Once they had maneuvered their way through, Cassidy released his hand and instead gripped the straps of her backpack. “Who does she think she is? Calling me “Cass” like we’re all buddy-buddy.” She said to herself as she began to move out onto the sidewalk. Evan did his best to keep pace with her as she paced down the concrete. “She’s the one who bumped into me, anyway! Why should I apologize?”

They made it around the block and were approaching the neighborhood where the Afton’s lived. Everyday after school, Cassidy would walk Evan to his house and then run off to her own home. No matter how many times he offered to return the favor and do the same for her (it’s not like he was eager to get home), she always refused. He didn't really know where she lived, but If she was willing to walk him all the way home from school and then bolt to her own house, he couldn’t imagine it being far.

“It’s bad enough that she talked to me in class. This is even worse. She completely embarrassed me!” Cassidy tucked her hands into her sweatpants pockets and furrowed her brow.

Once they reached Evan’s house, Cassidy marched up to his house and stood on the porch. She leaned against his front door and slid her feet along their purple entry mat with her combat boots. Evan took note of the lack of cars in the driveway and stood at the bottom of the porch staircase.

Evan murmured to himself. “Technically you’re the one who hit her in the face.” Cassidy glared at him. “With your…. head.” He blinked at her a few times before refocusing his gaze to the grass. He could imagine the look she was searing into his skull.

It was quiet for a moment before Cassidy spoke up.

“So you're defending her now?” She snapped. Evan flinched. All of his previous confidence was completely lost. She stopped leaning against the door and met him on the top step. “Why do you always do that? Why can't you just agree with me? Is being on my side really that bad?” Her voice cracked. Evan looked at her cautiously before stepping off his stair and standing on the grass.

When he didn't respond, she clenched her fist. “Some people don't deserve a second chance, Evan. Or even a first chance for that matter. Some people should be hated. I hope you figure out who deserves that treatment soon.” She kept her gaze on him for a moment before pummeling down the staircase and shoving past him.

Evan was left standing at his front door, alone. He fished through his backpack for his house key and shakily slid it into the lock.

“I’m home..!” His voice wavered as it rang against the wallpaper of his home. When nobody answered, Evan threw off his shoes and bolted to his bedroom. Tears clouded his vision as he slammed his door shut and hid underneath his blankets. If mom were here, she would have scolded him for not changing out of his school clothes before laying in bed. She would’ve sat on the edge of his bed, asking him what was wrong. She would’ve known what to say. But his mother wasn’t here, she was gone, and Evan was completely by himself.

Well, somewhat by himself.

At the foot of his bed, something crackled on like a radio. “Did he scare you again?” The voice said, cool and sharp. Evan came out from under his covers and eyed the stuffed animal that sat at the foot of his bed.

“N-no. He’s not home yet. And he hasn’t done stuff like that in a few months”

It made a ‘hmm’ noise before continuing. “He will be hiding again. You need to be brave.” Evan wiped a stray tear from his cheek and held the Fredbear plush close to his chest.

“I know. I’ll try to find him quickly.” He said, almost automatically. Evan cleared his throat. a low humming sound came from the center of the plush. “I got in a fight with Cassidy today. She just blew up out of nowhere and went on and on about second chances and first chances and— and that I'm never on her side. Is that true? She sometimes says these things about people th-that I don’t really think is true. I dunno’.” He sniffed and waited quietly for a response from the bear, having nobody else to ask about his predicament.

“She is correct.” It replied. “But she is also not someone worth listening to. She is a reckless and unempathetic person. She is not a true friend. You only need me as your friend.” Evan sighed and placed the plush on the floor next to his bed. He was used to hearing about how Fredbear should be his best and only confidant, so much so that he had noticed how often the bear repeated his phrases.

“Perhaps this is a sign. She doesn't know what is best for you. She does not know what he does to scare you. But I do.”

Evan uncomfortably looked into the glowing eyes of his “friend.” Something in his stomach twisted in a way he didn’t like.

“I..I don’t know. Let’s just.. Micheal is going to be home soon. I-I’d rather not be awake when he arrives.” He kept his eyes locked on the plush until its eyes flicked away from him and dimmed, the bright white pricks diminished. A single click came from the yellow toy and the silent hums stopped.

Somehow that always works…

“I think I'm getting way too old for stuffed animals…” Evan murmured to himself before kicking off the covers and crawling underneath. He wiped his eyes and curled up against his mattress. “One problem at a time, Afton.” he whispered, before quickly drifting off to sleep.

— — — —

Cassidy had slid over the top of the spiked fence as carefully as she could, but by the end of her climb she came out with a few new holes on her shirt. Still, no injuries, no problem.

The brown gravel that led up to her house shuffled beneath her feet, illuminated by a dim light that shone through the ornate windows of the building in front of her.

Mothers house.

Father's house.

Home.

It had already gotten dark thanks to the early November time change, so that made sneaking in and out through the window both easier and more difficult.

For one, it was much easier to go unnoticed in the dark. With her newly died black hair and deep red shirt, it was like she was invisible. But on the other hand, the lack of sunlight made it impossible for Cassidy to see the protruding ledge on her windowsill, leading to her face being pressed against the hardwood floors of the bedroom halfway through her climb.

“Ow…shit..” She groaned. Two head injuries in one day, somehow a record for her even with all the late night excursions she had been taking recently.

As if on cue, the back of her head flared up in a flash of heat and throbbed. Pushing herself off the floor, she rubbed the back of her head and rolled into bed.

She was hoping her headache could be slept away.

But to do that, she would have to stop feeling guilty for what she had said to Evan after walking him home.

Some part of her was happy that she didn’t have to see him tomorrow.

“Cassidy? Are you in there?” Said a voice that accompanied a timid knock. Cassidy stayed slumped over in bed and opted to not respond. A few more knocks followed before the door clicked open.

The person pushed her shoulder a couple of times before tugging Cassidy up and off of her bed.

“I was calling your name! Why didn’t you answer?” Cassidy slowly opened her eyes and was met with her mothers face staring back at her. A face that was very similar to her own, the only extreme difference being the golden hair that framed the woman’s face.

“Ever heard of sleeping?” Cassidy replied. Her mother made a frustrated noise and started to swipe her hair away before the wind got to it first.

Cassidy cursed at herself mentally and followed her mothers gaze. “Your windows open? Any particular reason?” She asked.

Cassidy sat up to get a better look. “Just wanted a nice breeze.” She said simply in return. Maybe she would buy it?

“With all these new holes in your shirt the wind is really going to get to you.”

Shit.

Cassidy looked down at her clothes and let the light do all the work. They were definitely tattered, but nothing too remarkable. Kinda cool in her opinion.

Unfortunately it didn’t look like her mother thought the same.

After looking her daughter up and down about 3 or 4 times, she turned away to walk towards the window.

“Well, it’s too late to have this open now. If you're hot, get a glass of water or something.” The windows slammed shut and the lock latched into its socket.

“Kay. What time are we leaving tomorrow?” Cassidy asked without looking at her mom. She hummed quietly in response as she tugged at the curtains that outlined the window.

“Early. And we won’t be back until late. So don’t stay up too long. Goodnight.” She said. Cassidy slumped back against her covers and waited until her mothers footsteps had rounded the hallway before flinging upwards and running to her window.

With one flick of her finger, the lock jutted out of place and the wind swung the glass open. She let her legs hang outside the window and tugged at the holes in her shirt.

“Night, Evan.” She whispered into the dark.

The wind said nothing in response.

[softstraykidshours]

[2:18 pm] "oh my god, i'm so sorry!" your hands cover your mouth in horror as you stare at what you've done. 

you've been hanging out and reading in hyunjin's studio while he was painting. neither of you were really talking, you just enjoyed being in each other's presence while doing your favorite things. 

but after an hour or so, you had gotten tired of sitting still and decided to bug hyunjin just for fun. he never minded when you would poke at and tease him while he painted. in fact, he secretly loved the way you would wrap your arms around his neck and hang off of him while he worked. 

which is exactly what you had been doing when you leaned too far to the side and accidentally knocked his table, upsetting a jar of paint and causing it to splash across the canvas he had been working so hard on all afternoon. 

you immediately started apologizing repeatedly, completely mortified by what you had done. 

"jinnie, i swear it was an accident! i'm so, so sorry, i shouldn't have been messing around like that, i--" 

"hey, it's okay," he cuts you off in the middle of your manic, rambling apology, gently grabbing your face in his hands, so you will look at him. "i know you didn't mean to." 

"but it's still ruined. and you've been working so hard on it," you try to turn back to the paint smeared canvas, but he keeps his grip firm, forcing you to keep your gaze on him. 

"i can always make another one." 

"but-" 

"listen to me, it's alright. it's just a painting. plus, i think it looks better this way," he releases his hands, so you can both examine it together. "just look at the way the red splatters contrast the color palette i chose. it's very abstract and intriguing. personally, i think it adds a lot of depth in a way i would have never thought of. and you helped me make it, so that alone already makes it my new favorite creation."

you scrunch your nose as you try to see what he's saying, but you can't look past the big mess you made. "you're just saying that so i don't feel bad. "

"i most definitely am not," he brings one hand up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "you just have to learn how to look at it from a different perspective. sometimes making things a little messy makes them more beautiful." 

he suddenly takes his other hand and swipes something cold and wet down your nose. when you try to look at it all you can see is green. 

"did you...did you just put paint on my nose?"

a roguish grin takes over his face while he reaches towards his paint tray again. "yes, i did." 

you squeal when you feel his fingers quickly drag more cold paint across your cheek. "hey! stop that!" 

"why?" he continues to give you a mischievous look as he backs up. without breaking eye contact he reaches for a tube of paint nearby, squeezing it into his palm and rubbing his hands together before wiggling his now blue fingers at you. "what are you going to do about it?" 

you don't even get a chance to respond before he's rushing you, grabbing your waist and tickling you while rubbing the paint all over the skin that's exposed beneath your crop top. 

"jinnie!" you can't help but giggle as he continues his attack, spreading blue pigment all over you. 

when he doesn't stop you reach blindly to the side until your fingers bump against a jar of paint. you plunge your hand in before swiping them across his face, smearing purple everywhere. 

the next few minutes pass in a blur of laughing and colors while you continue to attack each other with paint. when you finally stop, you're both panting, trying to catch your breath between fits of laughter. 

he pulls you in for a hug, gently kissing your lips before taking out his phone to snap a photo of the two of you. he pulls up the picture to show you, and your smile grows even larger when you see how you both look, eyes alight with joy, bodies and faces covered in every color imaginable. 

"see?" he says before planting a kiss onto your paint-splattered temple. "i told you messy can be beautiful."

[lxvejohnny]

The endless beginning

part two

scream VI fanfiction with implied ethan x oc!

find part one here. enjoy!

Bright lights, warm bodies, and loud music consumes her senses as she stumbles her way through the house. As the group of friends have been enjoying attending silly frat parties, it has brought upon a new thrilling adventure for Amelie. She was not an alcoholic by any means, but it has helped her when she was feeling her emotions fervently and the ambience around her distracted her from the rave going on in her own head. She brings the red cup to her lips that she just finished topping up and takes a large gulp of the mixture, her red lipstick printing the rim. She passes by Mindy and Anika on the couch, sending them a wave as she passes by.

“You still doing alright there, Amie?” Mindy asks as Amelie throws her wave up. She pauses and drunkenly smiles.

“I am doing very good, Min,” She nods back, exaggerating the nickname as Mindy did. “I am actually on my way to dance, would either of you ladies care to join?”

Mindy shakes her head and chuckles lightly “No we are good here on the couch, Amie,” Mindy nods her head towards the living room “But go have fun, you deserve it. Plus, someone has to watch all of you idiots.”

Amelie giggles and sends a thumbs up their way, following with a blow of a kiss as she disappears into the next room. Amelie feels her heart swell when she notices how happy Mindy and Anika look together. Mindy deserves it, after all. Amelie met Anika through school, having coming to campus early in the summer to familiarize herself with the grounds and running straight into the small girl, spilling the coffee in her hand. Amelie panicked, eyes blown wide, and then apologized profusely. Anika, on the other hand, was as chill and laid back as she usually is and then offered to go and grab a coffee together to make up for the one that was now all over the ground and their shirts. Amelie was paranoid about the whole ordeal, but reassured herself that it would be okay since it is in the middle of the day and completely in public. It was so easy for Amelie to get along with Anika, like a long-lost bestfriend, and she was so glad that they had managed to run into each other that day on campus. From then, Anika was introduced to the rest of her friends and her and Mindy hit it off instantly.

Shortly after meeting Anika, Amelie and Mindy wearily opened up to her about what happened back in Woodsboro, and Anika nearly sobbed with them as they individually told her what they went through. Anika was an angel sent down from heaven, in Amelie's eyes, and she couldn't be more thankful for her just being herself. And she is sure that Mindy feels the same way too.

Amelie turns the corner to head to the living room and nearly collides with another body. She quickly pulls her cup away from her body, making sure that nothing spills from the cup. The tall figure in front of her grabs onto her biceps to steady the girl from tripping over and spews apologies.

"I am so sorry-"

"Oh my god, I'm sorry-"

The two start apologizing at the same time, and Amelie finally takes the time to look up from the ground and at the face of the boy she nearly just collided with. She takes note of his green and red stripped shirt, piecing that he was dressed as Freddy Krueger. Amelie also notices the way his light eyes make their way down her figure, probably trying to see her costume as well. Her short jean skirt and cropped ribbed tank feels almost non-existent as his eyes travel down and then up again. It was like no conversation was needed, they both were instantly intrigued with one another. Amelie was sure she should probably keep going on her way, with her curly headed friend still in mind. But, she also thought that maybe a distraction wouldn't be such a bad thing.

"I was just headed to get a refill, did you want to join?" The mystery boy takes a leap of faith and asks the girl. He almost looked nervous to ask Amelie, but she was sure that the alcohol in his system gave him the boost of confidence. His eyes were difficult to decipher in the flashing lights but she could make out the green hues in them. He was much taller than she was and had a very defined face, one that Amelie was quick to note as very attractive.

Should she be more hesitant about saying yes to hanging out with a boy she never met before, drunk? Yes. Should she just go back and plan to dance with her friends like she was planning? Probably. But, she was brought here to have fun and she figured that she might as well.

"I just refilled, but..." Amelie looks down at her cup and raises the rim to her painted lips, quickly drinking down the fruity liquor. She finishes her drink with only a couple of gulps and raises the empty cup up between the two. Amusement dances in the eyes of the boy and a small smirk appears on his lips. "...I think I could use another."

"So, what is your name mystery man?" Amelie grabs onto his hand and drags the two back towards the kitchen. Sweaty bodies bump into the pair, but they prevail nonetheless and make it to the keg. As Amelie walks past the living room again with a boy in tow, she passes by Mindy and Anika again. The couple look at Amelie, then at each other and share a smirk. They would be more worried about her going off with a random boy if she went somewhere more private, but the kitchen? They could keep tabs on.

"Dean," the smirk never falls from his lips and he is quick to fill up his cup with a new beverage. "And yours, cowgirl?"

He flicks his free hand up to lightly knock the rim of her brown cowboy hat. Amelie is truly not sure what she is doing, she has never initiated or kept a conversation with a complete stranger. A cute stranger.

A matching smirk makes its way onto Amelie's pretty, red lips. She shrugs with one shoulder, "hmm, might just keep you guessing."

Dean lets out a breathy chuckle at that and nods his head in understanding. Hard to get, it seems. And with how extra pretty Amelie looks tonight, Dean was willing to go along with it. But she was more than just pretty, she was intriguing.

Dean takes a step closer to the girl and Amelie almost feels like she should back away, but decides that she shouldn't need to.

"Alright then cowgirl, you go to school here?"

"I do. Not in a frat, thought. Are you?"

"I am, yeah-" A frat boy. A pretty boy like him being in a frat makes perfect sense. Dean takes notices of the look that covers her face, and nods. "-hmm, I see that look on your face."

Amelie feigns ever making an expression and innocently looks up at Dean. "Yup, I'm a frat guy. But I promise you I actually have a personality beyond just hooking up with girls and being a douchebag."

Now it was Amelie's turn to let out a chuckle at his words. "Guess we will have to see about that."

"We will?" Dean smirks at her again and Amelie feels her tummy flip. She raises her cup to her lips again and takes a sip from her new drink. Their eyes staying in contact through this whole interaction. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was Dean, but she was feeling warm.

"We'll see. Still not quite sure if you're worth my time," Amelie smirks. She was proud of herself, she has never been so confident in front of a boy before and she is finally enjoying talking to a complete stranger.

"Ouch," Dean feigns a pained expression and places his hand on his heart, hunched as if he was actually in pain. "Guess I will just have to prove it."

While Amelie was proud of herself for flirting back so well, it came so natural to Dean. Maybe he does this to every girl he finds interest in at a party, but Amelie does not care all that much right now. Suppose she will be one of the many, but she was enjoying this way too much to try and be prideful right now.

The distance between the two somehow got even more nonexistent as they conversed, and Amelie wasn't too sure when it had happened. Dean places his cup on the table beside them and reaches over to grab Amelie's out of her hand as well, placing it next to his own. His face close to hers, she can smell the alcohol coming from him and she closes her eyes as he nears his lips closer to hers.

"Amelie," Her eyes open to gauge his reaction. The smirk from his lips finally rests into a drunken smile and his eyes shimmer in the dark.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl."

Their voices have settled into whispers at this point and Amelie has never wanted to step out of her comfort zone more than this moment right now.

"Well, Amelie..." Dean places a hand on her hip, above the waistband of her skirt and swipes his thumb on her exposed skin. "...Can I kiss you?"

Amelie doesn't bother responding and reaches up on her toes to press her lips against Dean's. The two spend the next couple of minutes groping each other and share a hot, passionate makeout session, just like you would see in the movies at a typical college party. Amelie has kissed people before, that is no secret. But, she hasn't kissed enough to really compare all of her experiences with each other. Dean feels so nice against her skin and is kissing her so well, but for some reason Amelie can't help and let her mind wander. She feels as if she needs this, she has not let loose even a little since moving to New York, and she has been craving the moment where she can finally not give a fuck.

But, fuck. As much as she is enjoying this moment and the feeling, the taste of Dean, but can't help and wonder if this is what it would feel like to kiss her curly haired friend. Ethan Landry has had a chokehold on Amelie since she first met him a couple of months ago when Chad invited her over to check out his dorm and meet his roommate. She feels so guilty that she even had a different guy in her mind while her lips were touching someone else's.

"Get it, Amie!"

Amelie springs apart from the boy and licks her lips. Dean flinches back when he felt Amelie pull back in such a hurry, but his hand remains on her hip still.

"Tara!" Amelie turns her head and notices the small girl grinning at her. Amelie sends her a sheepish smile, almost feeling guilty for being caught swapping tongues with a random boy.

"No, no, don't worry. I am not here to stop you. Just came to get some more alcohol..." Tara continues to smile at the girl and slowly advances backwards, stumbling into a wall next to her. "...and be on my merry-way."

Amelie turns to Dean once Tara leaves and chuckles. "I am so sorry about her."

Dean shares the laugh with Amelie and shakes his head in dismissal. Amelie wasn't too stoked about being interrupted from kissing Dean, but she was also glad because it got her to stop her guilty thoughts about Ethan.

So, if Amelie was going to keep herself distracted still, then she wasn't going to stop now. She trails the hand she placed on his chest down to his hand and smiles up at her, her lipstick made its way onto his lips.

"How about we go do my original plan, and dance?"

"Only if you can keep up." Dean smirks again and Amelie reaches her other hand to wipe some of her red lipstick off his mouth with her thumb.

"Oh, of course I can, Krueger."

Amelie and Dean make their way through a clump of moving bodies and eventually blend in. The two move to the music, keeping their body close. Amelie feels so good and so free, as she dances with Dean, drunk.

As she moves, she can feel eyes burning on her from somewhere else in the room and looks around. Just a couple of feet away, leaning by the archway is Chad and Ethan whose eyes are on her. She smiles at the two and then continues to dance with the man in front of her.

“You know you are painfully obvious, right?” Chad eyes Ethan from beside him and smiles as he talks. Ethan takes his eyes off Amelie and stares at Chad with wide eyes.

“Wha-what are you talking about?” Ethan stutters back. He sneaks glances back at Amelie as she dances so close with a guy neither of them recognize, awaiting anxiously for Chad to reply. Chad gives him a pointed look and nudges his arm with his own.

“Oh please, since the day you met her, you have been in love. I swear, drool comes out a little more each time you stare,” Chad shrugs with a smirk on his face, gesturing with his finger to his mouth and chin. Ethan’s eyes widen even more than they already were.

“Uh, I absolutely do not! I just-just think she is…pretty is all,” Ethan replies with a shake in his voice. Not convincing at all, great. Chad once again gives him another pointed look. “Who even is that guy with her anyways? Do we know him?"

Chad raises an eyebrow in suspicion at his roommate, way to pretend that you are totally not interested in her.

"Uh, no, I-I don't know who that is," Chad replies with slight uncertainty and a shake of his head. He squints his eyes as he looks at the boy who has his hands rested on Amelie's hips and takes notice of his face. "Looks like they got up to more than just a close dance."

Ethan's head has never turned so fast to look at Chad when he utters those words, and then back in Amelie's direction. "What?!"

"There's a little..." Chad points to his own mouth to show where Dean had some of Amelie's lipstick smudged on him. Ethan looks closely at the boy and notices the red smudges and feels his heart sink. Of course she would like someone like him, he thinks. But he can't help and glade daggers at the boy, wishing so bad that it was him she was dancing so close to.

“Look, she is just drunk and has had a lot going on the past year. She's just...” Chad takes notice of his friends hard expression. A brief paused is followed after his words, trying to think of a way to say his next sentence. "...she is probably just trying to distract herself, is all."

Ethan tries to listen to Chad's words but they don't make him feel much better. A disgusting, jealous feeling overwhelms his entire body and he wishes that he could catch a moment where Dean is all alone. Wipe that stupid smirk off his face when he sees the Ghostface mask and cut his fucking hands off for ever touching Amelie.

“Or maybe.. She also likes you? And is trying to distract herself from her feelings for you,” At that, Ethans head snapped back up to Chad's direction. Chad's expression was appearing too hopeful and his tone wasn't very convincing, but Ethan can only hope that his words held some truth to them. "I know she finds you cute."

Chad knows Amelie would kill him if she had heard him tell Ethan that, but his poor friend looked so crushed.

"What?" Ethan widens his eyes.

"She, uh, she told me when she first met you that she finds you really cute."

"Oh," Ethan's shoulders sag a little at that idea. Hope, at last.

Chad quickly notices the tray of shots behind him and grabs two for him and his friend. He passes a small shot glass to Ethan as he begins to make a small toast.

“Alright cheers, man, to the dynamic duo of the Fourth Tenth's tower, third floor, room three-one-five!” They cheered and took the shot together. As Chad grimaces at the rough taste that alcohol accompanies, Ethan spits his back into his cup.

With the adrenaline the shot brought upon, Chad starts again, “alright, maybe we should start getting you to make some moves, yeah? Get you out there, maybe someone new? How about it?”

The pair look back at Amelie still moving along with the the tall boy in the Freddy Krueger costume, but Chad gestures to the girls around her.

“She’s gorgeous,” Ethan says with a smile, pink creeping onto his cheeks.

“Right, go up to her. Ask her out,” Chad replies quickly, wingman of the year. Ethan quickly realizes that Chad is talking about the girl in a Harry Potter costume, to the right of Amelie, but Ethan can only keep his eyes on his friend. Ethan denies, saying he just can’t do it and the pair bicker back and forth about Ethan’s capabilities of asking a girl out.

"Got to have confidence! Look at you, man! You're a snack, practically an entire meal, all on your own!"

"Really?" Ethan's eyes shine at Chad's words.

Amelie finally looks back to the two boys, still feeling the heat of their eyes. She lets Dean know that she will be right back, and was going to check up on her friends standing by the entry. Ethan's eyes widen when he realizes the girl is making her way towards them.

“Hello boys,” Amelie steps closer to them, standing next to Chad. The boys look quickly over to see Amelie has joined and she looks drunk. Amelie glances up and tips her matching cowboy hat down at Chad “Howdy partner.”

"Amie!" Chad repeats the action and tips his hat back to her. Amelie was really not feeling going to this party, and tried to convince her friends further when she told them that she didn't have a costume. Chad, brilliantly trying to convince her, that she doesn't need a whole unique outfit and could just match with him to make her feel better. Once Chad came up with the idea, he seemed so excited to match with Amelie that she couldn't say no.

"Our friend here-" Chad pats Ethan on his cardboard chest piece "-is a total snack, right?"

"Wha-what? Chad!-" Ethan looks at the man incredulously.

"Uh, yeah, yeah," Amelie nods her head at the boys. Her tummy flutters at the idea of having to compliment Ethan, in front of him at that, and blush rises to her cheeks. It was also so odd that Chad had asked her that, but she figures that it has to do with their previous conversation before she joined. "Yeah, Ethan, you're a whole snack. I mean, maybe even a whole meal!"

"That's what I said!" Chad smiles bright and nudges Ethan with his shoulder. "Ugh, I have taught you well, Amie."

"Shut up," Amelie chuckles. Chad repeats the action. “You look like you’re having a wonderful time."

“I am having a spectacular time,” the smile remains large on her face and her eyes small and squinted. Chad points to her lips and raises an eyebrow. Her eyes widen at what he was suggesting and smiles sheepishly. "Oh, uh, yeah. That's Dean."

Dean, a stupid name for his stupid face. Ethan scowls upon hearing his name and resists the urge to roll his eyes.

She blinks her eyes and stretches them open, trying to widen her blurry vision. She turns her head to Ethan, who is already staring at her, and smiles up at him. “I like your costume, Ethan! You’re a…?”

“It's supposed to be a knight," Ethan says, almost embarrassed. He felt like a total loser at this party and he was sure that he looked like one to Amelie, too. "I, uh, I made it, pretty last minute."

"Well, I like it," Amelie smiles at Ethan. She found it so cute that he was embarrassed by his costume, and the way his cheeks turned pink when she complimented him. "I didn't expect for you to come to a party, especially one like this."

"Yeah, I wasn't going to come but Chad convinced me last minute,” Ethan rolls his eyes at the boy, but a smile still remains. "I could say the same to you, though."

"Yeah, same with you. I wasn't gonna come but Chad and Tara convinced me."

"Well, I'm glad to hear I wasn't the only one forced here," Chad subtly nudges Ethan's arm and flickers his eyes down to Amelie’s costume. “Your-your costume is nice, also. You look pretty.”

Chad smiles pleasantly to himself, proud of his roommate as Ethan is mentally kicking himself in the head repeatedly. You look pretty, your costume is nice, God you sound like a total loser. Amelie smiles at him as a light pink flush creep up her neck and onto her cheeks as well.

“Oh, thank you,” She replies, seemingly brighter than she was before. She nudges Chad before saying, "I think I rock it better than Chad, actually."

God I am screwed. Ethan knew he always had a thing for her the second he saw her. She was just different, as cliché as it sounds, different from everyone else he has met. She smiles and he swears his stomach feels like it just flipped around. It’s hard for him to be around her and not blush when she merely takes a glance at him. He was pinning and he was pinning hard, but he was worried that she would never feel the same way. She held herself differently than her friends and although he could tell (from what he has heard) that sometimes she has a difficult day and wants to be by herself, she was also just so much cooler than he was. And hey, even if all she finds him is cute or attractive or whatever, at least he has been seen by her. He just prays to whoever was listening to him, that this Dean guy was just a one time thing, drunk at a party.

Amelie’s head was spinning. She was drunk and being around Ethan made her feel even more intoxicated. She knew she shouldn’t be feeling the way she was, the last time she seriously liked a boy, they were brutally murdered by the hands of her best friend. And, she was just grinding it up with a few just a couple of feet away. But it was done, it happened, and it is over with. But something about Ethan’s kind demeanour and pretty smile that made her feel all fuzzy inside whenever he was around. She hides it well though, she thinks at least. She has been so weary of letting new people into her life that her distance around him was noticeable, but it doesn’t seem to stop her little feelings blossoming inside of her.

Ethan and Amelie have grown close over the past couple of months, even hangout sometime just the two of them or go to campus and study together. So, it wasn't awkward between the two, in fact Amelie would say that Ethan has become one of her best friends.

The conversation between the two ended fast as Anika comes around the corner and lets Chad know he is needed. Amelie begins to follow behind Chad but quickly turns around where she sees Dean standing where she left him and gives him a sorry expression. She mouths, I have to go, emergency. Sorry. See you around. Dean looks kind of lost as he watches her, but gives her a smile nonetheless. Ethan stands behind Amelie, watching the interaction and continues to unintentionally glare at the boy.

A commotion breaks out as Chad tries to stop Tara from going upstairs with some creep named Franky where, Amelie rushes to her side as she sees Tara trip on a step. Sam eventually comes and tases the guy in the balls, leaving Franky rolling around on the ground in main, yelling out how Sam is a bitch.

“Sam, are you fucking kidding me? You’re stalking me now,” Sam turns to see Tara furious at her. She glances at Amelie as she shrugs her shoulder at Sam with a small grimace on her face. Tara walks away from the crowd as some guy begins another round of commotion.

“Holy shit, it’s that psycho girl!” the guy gasps and glances to beside her where Amelie stands. “It’s that fucking cops’ daughter too!”

She suddenly feels a lot sober than she did before as her eyes widen and she rushes to follow Tara, Sam following closely behind.

“Tara, will you stop?” Sam calls out to her younger sister who strides angrily ahead of her.

“I cannot believe you did that, you embarrassed me,” Tara calls back but doesn’t slow down her steps.

“That guy was a dick, he was gonna take advantage of you.”

“So?”

“So?!”

Ethan looked down at Amelie beside him and furrowed his eyebrows. She looked disturbed with her eyebrows scrunched and the heavy frown weighing down her lips. She felt his gaze and glanced up at him. As the sisters continued to argue he whispered,

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” She nods “I’m alright.”

“Are-are you sure?” he looks at her with nothing but concern “I know you drank a lot, and that idiot back there-”

She cracks a small smile this time and interrupts. “No, yeah. I promise I’m good, it takes more than that to crack me. Thank you, though. I-I appreciate it; you asking.”

He smiles back at her, seemingly to be relieved that she reassured she is alright. He assumes she was bothered by the people back at the party and now the sisters arguing but she doesn’t want to let him know. Which is okay, he isn’t bothered by it and understands if she doesn’t want to mention it. He has just learned from hanging out with her so much that she hates when people mention her dad around her without her being the one to bring him up. Especially, if it was in a way that also involved the Ghostface murders.

Beside them the rest of their friends stay standing, watching the Carpenter sisters continue hashing it out. Amelie zones back into their conversation after hearing Tara refer to her.

“Because I’m uninterested in living in the past like you guys are!” Tara exclaimed and glanced between Sam and Amelie.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam said quizzically. Amelie stepped forward to stand beside Sam, her eyebrows furrowed. She had a funny feeling that Tara was also referring to her in the 'you guys'.

“Hey guys-“ Chad attempts to insert himself to halt the argument from expanding further which quickly gets dismissed as Tara continues talking.

“It means I’m not going to let what happened to us for three days define the rest of my life,” Tara finally lets out tiredly. Amelie rubs the side of her neck where a scar lays, light pink and prominent.

“So, you’re just going to pretend it never happened?” Amelie replies to Tara. She seems to be in disbelief when she poses the question. Amelie isn't quite sure why she has gotten involved in this argument, she didn't even say or do anything. Along with Sam, Amelie is beginning to feel frustrated now. It seems like Tara isn’t feeling the same pain and angst that they were about everything that happened last year. Sam glances back at Amelie where they briefly make eye contact, seeming to understand each other’s emotions. While Amelie was the same age as Tara, she always seemed to be closer to Sam. Maybe it be because they both share similar feelings in everything, that they have familiar ties with the original Woodsboro murders, or they both spent a night comforting each other, it wasn’t clear. But Amelie found comfort in Sam and Sam seeked to comfort Amelie, almost seeing herself in her.

Tara pauses and sighs while looking at Amelie, more specifically her scar on her neck. She answers more gently this time “No, no of course not but I am just saying that for me, I cannot let this drag me down when I am trying to move forward. I mean, earlier, you were doing that too! That guy you were with...”

“Look, Tara, I get it, I do trust me. I am also here to try and move on with my life to get past everything that has happened” Amelie finally speaks up, interrupting her from continuing her sentence about Dean. Tara was trying to get Amelie to understand her, bringing up that even she is doing what Tara is trying to. With a gentle voice and soft eyes, she looks at Tara as she talks “It is okay to want to do that, but you can’t just take this out on your sister. You’re also allowed to be upset about last year.”

“I am not upset!” Tara exclaimed, almost feeling betrayed that Amelie was almost taking Sam's side. She shut her eyes and sighed heavily again, deciding to change the topic. She began again, lowering her voice “What are you doing here, Sam? In New York? You-you’re working two shitty jobs to help with rent, whatever, but what’s your plan?”

Sam doesn’t get the chance to answer and continues to look at Tara. The younger girl continues, looking at Amelie now “And you Amelie? Your mom is back California! You have a family to go to, but you decide to come to New York and do school, to what? So, you can stay here with us?”

“You are asking me why I came here to New York with you guys? Why I don’t want to stay back in California where I lost almost everything? Back to a mom who doesn’t want to be around her daughter?” Amelie’s eyes harden as she tries to suppress her emotions rising. The alcohol in her system is making her want to cry more but she refuses. If Tara wants to be all tough, then she will, too. Amelie scoffs and shakes her head, “You guys are my family, Tara. And in case you forgot, I also wanted to go to school.”

“Amelie, you could have gone to any other school in California! You want to leave Woodsboro to leave what happened but then come here with us? We are the past!” She knew that Tara was making sense. They are the past, but they are also what is helping her move on. Since losing the one family member that cared about her the most, Tara, Sam, Mindy, and Chad have shortly become the people she cared about most, her own family. So reasonably, Tara’s words are a lot more hurtful than she is letting on.

Amelie jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder and looks back to see Ethan, concern laced in his eyes. She looks defeated at Tara’s words and nods her head, deciding to stay quiet. She wants to continue disagreeing with Tara and scream that what she was saying was not true. That she is here to stay with the people that cared for her and to go to school to live her own life, but she doesn’t. Amelie takes Ethan’s hand on her shoulder and grasps it with her own. His eyes widen at her action but makes no move to let go. She could use a hand to hold, and he willingly would volunteer any day.

“Do you really know what you are doing? I know what I’m going to do! Okay, cause I’m-I’m going to keep on with college and get my degree and live my life. My life. Okay, I know,” Tara begins again staring at Amelie and then looks back to Sam. Sam slightly nods her head at her words but also remains quiet.

“You just followed me here and won’t let me out of your sight,” Tara looks at Sam pointedly.

“Just trying to look out for you,” Sam says defeated.

“I-“ she begins and then frustratedly runs her hands down her face. She tries to calm down so her next words don’t sound as harsh as they have been. Maybe she was being too harsh, but she was frustrated and the alcohol in her system was not easing any nerves “I know, I know you are. You can’t do it for the rest of my life though. You have to let me go.”

Tara looks back at Amelie and says again, “You also have to let me go. Let it go.”

Amelie squeezes Ethan’s hand harder at that. She knows she does, but it is just too hard for her to do it so easily as Tara has.

“Hey!” Some girl calls out as her and her friends walk by the group. She proceeds to throw her cup of alcohol on Sam, some of it making it onto Amelie “Murderer!”

Amelie gasps as the cool drinks settles onto her skin, the stickiness already itching at the flesh.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you bitch!” Sam calls out, being held back by Chad as she pushed forward. Anika also grabs a hold of Mindy as she starts spitting words back to the stranger. The groups yelling back and forth.

“You got a problem with me?” Sam calls back angrily. Amelie lets go of Ethan to stand beside Sam and grabs her hand from advancing any further.

“They’re not fucking worth it,” Amelie says to Sam, shaking her head. Sam squeezes her hand hard to control the emotions she is feeling, trying her best to not lash out at the dumb girl who felt the need to open her mouth. 

“You guys should stay away from her she knows what she did,” The girl looks at the friends around Sam. She looks at Amelie and scoffs “Can’t believe you hang around this bitch who sliced your daddy all up.”

Amelie swore her heart dropped out of her ass. Her friends around all widened their eyes and Anika let out a gasp. “That was a bit much, you fucking bitch” Mindy says as Anika strengths her force to keep from Mindy barreling at the girl.

Ethan also looked shocked at the audacity the girl in front of them seemed to have. His eyes glared at her, wishing he could do more than just stand there and watch as Amelie’s expression fell. His blood boils, mad at the seemingly continuing list of people who have hurt Amelie's feelings so much within the last hour of the night. The things he wish he could do to fix that.

Her face plummeted and anger rose in her faster than it has this entire evening. “Go fuck yourself.”

“I didn’t fucking do anything!” Sam yells back one last time before the group of girls split off. She looks to the girl still holding her hand, now squeezing Sam’s hand just as hard as she was earlier. “I am so sorry, Amie.”

Amelie had tears lining in her eyes, whether it be from the crude comment, the anger she felt from it, or the sadness of the cruel memory. She shakes her head and finally looks at Sam, “Don’t be, it-it’s not your fault. I know you didn’t do anything, I was there remember? They are just some stupid girls who will believe anything they hear.”

Sam gives the girl a light smile, appreciative that at least she believes so. The group of friends began to walk away back to Sam’s apartment, Sam squeezing Amelie’s hand one last time before letting go.

“I-I-I have tissues if you want?” Ethan perks up from beside them, having waited for the girls as the rest of the group walked away. He looks down at the tissues he pulled out of his pocket and seemed to begin counting them, awkwardly he says “I have three tissues.”

Sam takes them and pats herself to rid her skin of the sticky substance. She passes one to Amelie to clean off the small bit of drink that had splashed onto her. The shorter girl takes it thankfully and begins to pat her arm down.

Sam glances up at Ethan who is still standing there and gives him an irritated look. Ethan takes this as his cue to leave and begins following the group ahead of him. He hears footsteps catch up to him from behind and sees Amelie make her way closer to him.

“Thanks, Ethan,” Amelie gives a flat smile and raises the tissue slightly to show her thanks for them.

Ethan glances at her for the second time with concern in his eyes. “I know I already asked you this but are you doing okay? Those people are just assholes, trying to get a rise out of you all.”

Amelie nods her head again, as she did last time and then scrunches her eyebrows. Maybe she felt like it was going to be okay but, in this moment, she was upset and mad at those people who caused a disruption, at the comment about her dad, at the way they just blamed Sam for everything, and at the small argument she had with Tara.

“No, you know I am not doing great, actually,” She lets out a breathy laugh but there was no humour behind it. Fuck it, she thinks. Ethan opens his mouth to reply but closes it as she rests her head on his shoulder. “Let's just go home, please.”

Ethan’s heart races and his head can’t form a coherent thought. She has done this with him plenty of times, even with their other friends, so it wasn't unusual. But right now, it is clear that she just wants some comfort, may it be more than usual because she has alcohol in her system he isn’t too sure, but he won’t complain. It is him who has her head on his shoulder right now, not that Dean guys. So, he places his stiff, cardboard arm around her shoulders and nods his head at her. The pair start to trail after their group in quiet and for the first time in this whole night, Amelie feels at peace.

[eldritch-spouse]

helloo ! How are you ? I hope that you're not sick anymore ^^.

I was wondering, like what if the facility started to chase Breg after a few month or more and then, they found him. What would happen ?

One thing that I'm sure is that Breg would become mad, probably try to kill them. Maybe he will try to hide it to s/o so he doesn't have to tell them about his past ? What if they find out anyway ? How would they react ? Would they help him ? How would she react to seeing Breg lash out ?? How would Breg react afterward ??

(so many questions ! sorry if this is a bit too long and not very well put)

[Hellow 👋, I've been fully recovered for a day I think.]

First, you might want to look at these posts, they'll give you the general idea: 1 ; 2 . I'm going to focus mostly on the latter part of your ask.

The first thing Breg would do when he encounters, or preferably just spots, someone from the facility would be- Surprisingly, to avoid confrontation. It's more trouble than it's worth, put simply, even egghead knows that. Sure, he could gut one unit sent out to retrieve him feasibly, but who in the right mind wouldn't send an entire capture squad? This is the cream of the crop of the breeder facility, Breg knows it couldn't just be one random sod looking for him.

The best course of action is to move. Quickly. Breg would like to do this without saying anything about his past, but it would be hard, if not impossible. And he seriously considers just grabbing you and hauling ass without a word. He might. Anything to keep those curdled wounds deep in his soul. Sooner or later, there comes a point where he has to sit you down for a talk- Lashing out about the severity of his status as fugitive will warrant a fit of his own, and though the breeder won't hurt you, he'll make it known he's not fucking around. That you, of all people, should be the last one freaking out right now. Is him being a wanted modified specimen a deal-breaker for you? Too bad, angel. Too bad. He didn't choose this.

If you somehow make it clear you know about his past without the breeder ever having mentioned anything of the sort, then you have now just dipped into very dangerous waters. No one knows about his past. Aside from Fasma that is, but Fasma's digging has been subtle, Breg isn't aware the ectoplasm monster knows the nitty-gritty of his prior existence.

Breg's immediate reaction will be some manner of violence. Because who would know about his past, if not someone who had been to the facility itself? Who worked there. This is one of the rare times where Breg will do some damage to your body, whether it be nearly choking the life out of you or compressing your chest so hard to the ground that you crack several ribs. It's then that you see just a glimpse of the beast this monster can be, and how positively angelic he behaves around you. If you found this information through Fasma (the most likely scenario), then snitch on him to save your life. Otherwise you will very likely die in this encounter. Sure, you're sentencing the ecto-monster to a lot of hurt, but he's been through a lot- The old fart can take it.

Afterwards, in the best case scenario, things will be tense. Breg doesn't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to open up yet, and he won't.

[fizziepopangel]

Hi, it's me Crystal! I'm wondering if I should write a Striker x Reader fanfic or not, it would be the classic childhood friends troupe. So I ask, what do you think Striker's childhood and adolescence was like?

To be honest, I've always seen him as a typical problem kid, who played rough with others and was a bullie only to become a bad boy in his teens.

- Crystal 🎀💖✨️

@crystalofmoon19 I LOVE seeing your asks and I am so sorry it takes me so long to get to them sometimes, but I would absolutely love to read something like this!!! I've never thought about his childhood that much, but I do have a couple of thoughts on how he was raised and what I think kinda made him the way that he is as an adult. I'm not sure if this is what you were thinking, but I really hope you enjoy my headcanons and hope they inspire you to write!

Young Striker

Despite his rougher way now, Striker didn’t start out so hateful.

As a young child, he was raised by a loving single mother on her family’s farm in the Wrath ring where he was actually excited to work alongside his mother and other family members day in and day out.

He was encouraged to sing and play music by his mother and she often had him sing to the crops and animals, telling him it helped them grow and that it helped make them feel better when sickness passed through the farm. She also encouraged him to cook with her and his grandmother, telling him that food was an expression of love and that he should cook for the ones he loved.

His grandmother gifted him Bombproof as a child and taught him how exactly to care for the horse in sickness and in health.

When he was about seven, his grandfather taught him how to hunt and shoot, skills he would later apply to his little one man assassin business, but as a child, Striker wasn’t fond of hurting other things.

Being a hybrid imp, Striker was gifted with abilities not all other imps had, one being the power of hypnosis. He used that quite a bit to get his way in early years. It started out small, like hypnotizing someone in his family to give him a second dessert after dinner or hypnotizing a shop owner in town to give him a free toy, but after his mother passed away, he didn’t care much for morals.

Striker would say that his life fell apart when he was eleven years old. His mother fell ill and passed shortly after when they were unable to afford medical treatment outside of their ring. After pouring money into trying to get his mother medical care that he still believes would have saved her life, his family could no longer afford to own their farm and he lost the only home he had ever known. 

As his mother was essentially his moral compass, after her passing, Striker gave up most of the habits she had built, too angry and sad to do much that reminded him of her… So he did the opposite.

Smoking, stealing, picking on smaller demons, disrespecting his elders, cursing, drinking…. Anything to feel something outside of the anger and sadness he felt after losing his mother.

Unable to care for him and themselves after losing their farm, his grandparents used the little money they were able to save to send Striker to what they were convinced was a great boarding school-like program for troubled young demons. This school took lower class demons and trained them to serve and after graduation, Striker was sent to work for royals.

After graduating that boarding school program, Striker was sent to work for lower class royals outside of the Wrath ring. Still dealing with the ‘bad habits’ he picked up after his mom died, he was quickly reprimanded by his boss in ways that could be clearly classed as abuse. After not changing his way enough to please them, he was sent to a new ring with other nobles, where the cycle repeated itself until he decided he wanted to work until he could afford to buy back his family farm since it sat abandoned all this time.

By age fifteen, Striker had fixed his attitude and work ethic and became a trusted butler for a lower class noble family…. After hearing him talk about his plans to save his meager pay to buy his farm back and leave them, that family then bought it and destroyed it as a way of reminding him that he now belonged to them.

With the farm destroyed and the land bought out, Striker became extremely depressed. At first he didn’t want to live…. Then he decided the people who looked down on him and treated him the way he had been treated for years, were really the ones who didn’t deserve to live.

By sixteen, he ran from the life he lived with the nobles who abused him and lived on the streets of Wrath. Striker stole, cheated, and killed to keep himself safe in these times until he found the abandoned railroad he still lives in now.

The little money he had went to keeping his horse happy and fed while he did whatever he had to keep himself not dead and not a servant.

Living in the conditions he lived in and doing the things he did became…. Comfortable almost. It also triggered thoughts and he realized what he wanted to do with his life because he realized that every problem in his life started with the societal rules put in place by the noble bloodline, who rigged the system so they never really suffered the way he did.At the age of eighteen, Striker knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted to kill the unkillable.

Being at that age where he was barely an adult, and having had very little people in his life to model business and work ethic in this venture for him, Striker’s plan definitely hit some bumps and he definitely screwed up a few times before he learned a few tricks of the trade, and he had to use his hypnosis powers to clean up quite a few oopsies, but the goal never changed. He wanted to end every royal and every blue blood he came across. 

His late teen years consisted of training and building up his portfolio of murder by using everyday demons to hire him as their personal murder machine so he could perfect his methods of kidnapping, torture, and murder for when he was ready for his real targets.

Striker spent a lot of time… perfecting what he does on ordinary demons. As he took his time to learn and tweak his methods, he watched as royals and nobles seemed to continue to ‘fix’ the system in ways that only seemed to favor them and his hatred had time to blossom into something bigger than he had ever imagined his body could hold.

By the time he reached his mid 20’s, Striker had build a name for himself within the world of assassins, but his goal still remains the same. He’s found that it would be a slow process, but he’s working on it.

[jimmysdarling]

Hard day

A kit walker and female reader smut

!⚠warnings⚠!

Oral(fem receiving)

Cum denial

Cursing

Nutidity

My shitty writing

My bad spelling

After care¿(question mark)?

A/N

This story is not requested and if there is any problems you have with it, please let me know ❤️‍🩹

You were sitting on the sofa with a bag of chips in your right hand and the TV remote in your other until you heard the door slam shut and your husband, Kit walker, walk through it.

"Oh my fucking god! How could work be this fucking shitty! "

You heard him yell as his shoes were kicked off while he was walking to you, sitting right beside you.

"I don't know deary, what happened? "

You had asked, kissing his cheek as he sat down. He didn't say anything, just turned to look at you. The corner of his lips curved up, a smirk on his face.

"Stand up. "

He demanded, making you frown your brows and giggle slightly. Even though it made you slightly confused, you still stood up and placed your hands on your hips and make a silly pose

"go to the bed room. I'll meet you there in a second. "

"Ok Boss"

You said playfully, clicking your tongue and walking to the bedroom, seeing the stronger and taller man stand up in the corner of your eye before closing the door and going to your bed. While you waited for kit, you had an idea on what he wanted. He wanted to take his anger out on you. All of his fury, annoyance, and stupid fuckers at his job, and all of that anger was going to be taken out on you. Before kit was there, you took your white crop top of along with your checkered shoes and cargo pants, throwing them god knows where. You lay your self down on your bed as you felt your hand travel down to your soaked, red laced panties, your manicured fingers slipping under neath the lace, hovering over your heat. You placed your fingers on your pussy, spreading you open, rubbing you. You threw your head back, the white bed sheets in taking you. You felt your shoulders being massaged by a few strong hands. Kits hands to he exact. A small gasp escaped your soft lips, kits placing his on yours.

"Bad girl. I told you to wait. "

He scolded, walking to the bottom of the bed, where your legs where spread out. He placed his hands on the back of your legs, lifting them up and pulling your panties off, painfully slowly then putting them on either sides of his shoulders, your heat now completely exposed to him. He placed his hands on your hips with a great smirk on his face. He pulled you closer to him, the boner in his pants was now more visable than before. He lowered his head to get closer to your wetness, his soft tongue licking your folds. You thew your head back in lust, grabbing his fluffing hair.

"F-Fuck kit.. Faster"

You moaned, feeling his tongue enter you, a small knot in your stomach tighten slightly. A groan escaped your lips again, tugging on his hair.

"Kit.. I'm close-"

You groaned. In an instant, kit chuckled and flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling his pants down along with his pants down and thrusting into your ass uncontrollably quickly. A loud moan and groan here and there, while he gripped your ass, pounding into you.

"F-Fuck.. You feel so.. Good doll"

Kit cried, biting his bottom lip forcefully while he threw his head back.

"Kit.. Please. Let me cum.. "

You pleaded, but he decided to be mean. He pulled out and said

"No, bad girls get no treats. "

He pulled his pants back up and sat on the bed.

"Fuck you. "

You groaned, sitting up, turing around and sitting next to you.

"I'm sorry doll, maybe next time. "

He said, kissing your head. He stood up and grabbed you a dressing gown while you caught your breathe. He grabbed the fluffy dressing gown and rapped it around your bare shoulders, pulling a cig and lighter out his pocket, on for you and one for him. He lit it and placed it between his chapped lips, lighting it, and puffing it. Giving you one to, placing it between your lips while kit lit your also.

"You can be a real dick sometimes.. But I still love you"

You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder while grabbed your arms and rubbed it, kissing your head.

"I love you too. "

He said, pulling you closer to him.

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

AU

Hey guys, this is my first story and ik it's bad and I will get better I swear, please don't hate :)