#also oh my god i need to clean my laptop how much dirt is in this keyboard

[dragonowlie]

honesty accidentally saying off tumblr (and social media in general) for a week has been so chill. it feels like my mental health has improved (even tho i know it has not, actually), so i've decided to under no circumstances at all update my app and force me to experience tumblr in a much healthier way - through designated Computer Time (tm) on my laptop, which in contrast to my pone i do not bring with me at every occasion, lol

[baroquebucky]

Hey boo! I was wondering if I can request a bucky x reader with the prompt “washing each other’s body”. Thank you so much🥰

a/n: ofc !! i hope u like it !! <3 sorry for any typos !

warm showers help sore muscles, they also help you fall deeper in love

masterlist

“I hate this mission so much” Bucky grumbled, rubbing his shoulder with his metal hand and sitting on the couch of the hotel room.

“listen i told you to go my way but you never listen!” Sam began, ready to argue for the third time today about bucky ignoring his signals.

“maybe if you had told me what way to go in the first place” Bucky growled and you rolled your eyes, getting your laptop from your bag and sitting in a chair by the window and doing some research on the people you were tracking.

“whatever, I’m gonna shower, if you find anything let me know” Sam grumbled and you nodded, giving him a quick hug and telling him goodnight.

You went back to researching for a bit, finally closing out some tabs and sitting next to bucky, your head resting on his shoulder.

You yawned, moving your arms to stretch as pain coursed through your arms and sides, turning your yawn into a groan mixed with a yelp.

“oh my god I’m so sore what the fuck” you groaned, flopping onto your side, attempting to move again but your arms quickly falling to your side.

“my shoulders are kinda sore too” Bucky spoke up, moving around a bit as his muscles aches.

“i cant even lift my arm up bucky i don’t wanna hear about your sore shoulders” you quipped and he held his hands up in protest.

you sighed softly and spoke up, “sorry I’m just really tired and i just wanna shower but I’m so sore and i just wanna sleep.”

Bucky looked at you fondly, getting up from the couch and grabbing some clothes from your suitcase and his, replacing your usual sleeping t shirt with one of his black t shirts.

You looked at him confused as he walked to and from the restroom, carrying in all your shower stuff and his in two trips and going to carry you into the restroom, gently setting you on the counter.

“warm shower help with sore muscles, you need someone to help you wash your body doll” he smiled softly, blushing at his own words.

“i- are you sure?” You questioned and he nodded.

“of course doll, don’t want you in anymore pain” he replied, kissing your forehead.

“okay” you smiled.

He started the shower, letting the water warm up as you changed out of your clothes, he quickly took his off too and you both got into the shower.

As soon as the warm water hit your skin you let out a small sigh of relief, closing your eyes and smiling.

“that bad huh?” Bucky joked and you pouted at him.

“i got my shit rocked leave me alone” he frowned at your words as you lifted your arms to rinse your hair more thoroughly, wincing a little as they ached.

“let me” bucky quickly helped rinse your hair, shutting off the water after he rinsed his own hair and body and grabbed your body wash.

He was gentle and slow, making sure to not put pressure where he knew you had been hit, softly scrubbing to get dirt off your skin.

He softly turned you around, making sure to scrub your back and behind your ears, knowing how much you complained about the one spot you could never reach on your back.

“You finally got the spot” you giggled and he smiled.

“of course i did, my girl has to be clean, can’t have you scaring everyone away with a stinky girlfriend” he teased and you elbowed him softly, groaning as you forgot how sore you were.

Bucky laughed and you rolled your eyes, mumbling something about beating him up when you weren’t sore anymore.

He helped was the body wash off you, letting the warm water run down your body until you smells like fresh roses and vanilla once again.

He washed his own body quickly and you felt a little guilty, taking the scrub from his hand and telling him to turn around so you could get his back.

“doll youre sore it’s fine” he protested but you ignored him and the pain in your arm, scrubbing his back for him, the smell of his body wash thick in the air and you loved it.

“it’s not even that bad after a while” you stated, switching arms after your other one almost died on you.

After you finished you handed him the scrub, letting him wash the soap off and he shampooed your hair, making sure you scrub your scalp and get every inch of hair soapy.

Of course he ended up putting your hair in one giant soapy spike, pouting when you did the same to him and complaining about how dumb he looked.

He rinsed the shampoo out of his hair quickly. Je had never been more thankful for his new haircut than now, happy he could get to your hair faster.

When you were both finished he shut the water off, handing you a towel so the two of you could dry off.

Bucky changed quickly, handing you your clothes and helping you pull your slightly less sore arms through the sleeves.

Picking you up once again, he took you to bed, laying you down and running to lock the door and turn the lights off, slipping into bed right next to you and pulling you his side to cuddle you.

“thank you buck” you whispered as the two of you were drifting off to sleep.

“for?” he questioned, confused as to why you were thanking him.

“taking care of me” you said softly, kissing him softly on the lips, a smile on both of your faces as you pulled away and buried your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’ll always take care of you doll, especially when your arms are two little spaghetti noodles” he teased and you groaned, knowing he would never let this go.

“I’m kidding sweetheart, i love you” he placed a soft kiss on the top of you hair before closing his eyes, arms tightening his grip on you a little more before letting himself drift off to sleep.

[quinncupine]

Hiiii quinn! I never realised you did requests but if it would be fine (and also because its my sole goal) could you do a boom boom boi and izubby with having their own cat or dog as a pet??? I'm seriously thinking that boom boom boi would be both a cat and dog person, don't u agree? (Ily lots and don't feel pressured to do this if you have a lot of stuff going on!)

Hi Dorki! I'm finally making my way through my requests and I was really excited to write this one! Okay, hope you like it!

Quinns Masterlist

Wanna request something?

The Boys with Pets

Word Count: 1,750

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo!

Warnings: dogs, cats, cursing

Izuku Midoriya

Now Izuku loves pretty much all animals, but I can totally see him getting a dog. Dogs are loyal and full of energy just like a certain green-haired hero. The perfect duo.

He would probably rescue one from the pound, the one with the biggest, saddest, cutest eyes because how could he not? But someone has to go with him because he'd try to rescue them all if there was no one there to stop him. Once a hero, always a hero I suppose.

I'm thinking for names, he would definitely pick a name that reflects his favorite heroes. Don't be surprised if he names his dog something super cheesy like Mighty or Rocky…

Wait, okay, I've decided, he names his dog Mighty and that is the hill I will die on.

The life of a hero is quite busy so when he goes off on long missions, he drops the dog off at his mom's house. Inko has fallen in love with this sweet pup, so much so that she sometimes begs him to stop by with the dog for a visit. It's the closest thing she's got to grandbabies at the moment, she'll take what she can get :)

Now, this cute pup draws in the attention of just about everyone so he's gotten an influx of attention and a few numbers slipped in his hand during their walks, much to his flustered surprise.

Best wingman ever.

This dog goes on regular runs with Izuku and sometimes even helps him with training. I'm thinking a Collie or an Aussie would just be the perfect fit for him to keep up with his personality and lifestyle. He needs an active dog!

I can see it now, he goes on his daily morning runs with this cute Lil furry training buddy and they race the whole way! A few regulars on the trail know about this and it's become sort of a tradition to cheer the two on as they pass.

 ...

The morning air was crisp with the slight scent of the coming autumn, the perfect morning for a run. Izuku, dressed in his usual training wear, had a steady rhythm going for the last forty minutes, letting out even, controlled breaths. This was the easy part of the run, a warm-up if anything, and he hadn't even broken a sweat yet. The canine jogging by his side was enjoying the dewy morning air as well, tongue happily flopping out the side of her mouth. The shared morning ritual between man and man's best friend: Mighty.

Her tail picked up speed, wagging uncontrollably as they neared the bend where the giant jagged rock towered over the path. It was the place marker to start the race. A three-mile run to the top of the hill located at the center of the park. It was also Mighty's favorite part of the morning.

"Ready girl?" Izuku grinned down at the ecstatic dog who barked in reply.

The instant the two of them passed the big rock, they both broke out in full speed, leaving behind a cloud of dust. Happy barks filled the air as she gained the upper hand. Izuku laughed as the dog turned to look back at him lagging behind her. He always did these races without his quirk to assist him. It was only fair and it helped him work on his natural stamina in case he was ever in a situation where he couldn't use his quirk. Always good to be prepared.

He watched as she bounded up the first steep hill on the trail. There were a few small hills on this route, but this one was the hardest to climb and Mighty had the advantage with her four legs so she always managed to pull ahead first. She stopped at the top and barked him on before quickly disappearing over the crest.

When he reached the top, he stopped for just a second to take in his surroundings. This part of the park was a heavily wooded area with numerous trails that many people used to hike or run. It also served as a great view of the city skyline and he couldn't help but stop and admire the rising sun from between the foggy buildings every time. Then Mighty barked to pull him out of his thoughts.

"It's not over yet!" He called after her and raced down the hill, putting on an extra burst of speed to easily close the distance.

Tail wagging, she nipped playfully at his feet as they sprinted along the path, side by side. There weren't many people out this early so he usually had the trail to himself. The only sounds were the wind in the trees, the leaves crunching under feet and paws, Mighty barking beside him, and his own unrestrained glee as they ran together.

These were the mornings he loved. Just the two of them, away from the stresses that came with pro-hero work. He wouldn't trade being a hero for anything, but sometimes it got to be too much so coming here to clear his mind with a little run was always a cathartic release, only made better by the furry companion by his side.

The short bridge that arched over the creek signaled the last mile. Getting more serious, Izuku pulled ahead of Mighty, not able to hold back the giant grin as he streaked across the bridge, startling a few birds off the railings which Mighty barked at as she came up behind him.

Up ahead was a large open meadow with a small duck pond near the center. A few benches were scattered about the path and he saw the same elderly couple sitting in their usual spot with a bag of rice and seed to feed the plethora of ducks waddling around their feet.

"You got him this time Mighty!" The old man looked up as the two of them zipped down the path towards the couple.

"Show 'em what girls can do!" The woman cracked a smile, waving her hands.

"Morning Mr. and Mrs. Fujino!" Izuku waved as he passed. "Don't count me out yet!"

Mighty barked her greeting and took a detour, herding some ducks closer to the couple then with a quick lick to Mr. Fujino's hand, she sprinted back to catch up to Izuku.

The Fujino's marked the last leg of the race. The only thing left was to climb the top of the largest hill in the park to the old oak tree at the top. That was the finishing line. It was always a gamble as to who finished first every day, but Mighty sure had a competitive spirit.

Izuku pumped his legs as he steadily made his way up to the dirt trail, Mighty just behind him before she suddenly veered left and disappeared into the shrubbery. He was so focused on the tree that slowly came into view just around the curve as he neared the top that he didn't notice.

Just as the path leveled out, almost to the finish line, he glanced back to see no sign of his dog. The tree was a few feet away when a furry mass ambushed him from the side, knocking him clean off his feet. The pro hero landed in the grass with a heavy Oof. Sitting on his chest was Mighty, looking quite proud of herself.

"Cheater!" He laughed, trying his best to hold back the slobbery licks she was determined to give him. "Okay, okay, I'll call it a tie!"

 Katsuki Bakugo

Now Katsuki on the other hand would totally be a cat person. Not that he has anything against dogs, but cats are more his style. They don't need constant attention and are pretty much self-sufficient. Just the way he likes it.

That being said, Katuski would go all out on toys and the latest gizmos to take care of his cat. Has a self-cleaning litter box, a waterfall bowl, an automatic feeder, etc. You get the picture.

Oh, and toys galore. If he has space, this cat is getting a personal jungle gym that lets him walk up to the ceiling. S.P.O.I.L.E.D.

Doesn't like to tell people just how much he actually loves this cat because he's never been one to express emotions, but this cat just gets him to his core. They share the same wavelength and he appreciates that. The cat is the only one he trusts to open up to, so sometimes you might catch him ranting to the poor thing who just stares back with big wide eyes and occasional meows. Yup, totally gets him.

I see him with a super chill cat, like maybe a Ragdoll or a Russian Blue. Something that tolerates his constant screaming and explosions.

This guy is just as bad at names. It'll definitely be something long and dramatic like Lord Cat Explosion Demon God of Furballs. Yep. He doesn't take criticism so most people call him Lord Furballs, much to his disdain.

Katsuki won't ask for attention from the cat, but the little furry feline is a total cuddler and will often find itself curled up in his lap or even on his neck if Katsuki's sitting on the couch. You better believe this guy won't be moving until that cat decides it's time to move. He's been late to meetings with friends because of this cuddly cat.

He's a hero so this cat is definitely being treated right. Katuski is no slacker when it comes to caring for his lil buddy. The vet is on speed dial should anything ever happen.

Did someone say a custom-made collar that matches his hero costume to a tee?

He's never loved anything more.

 ...

"Uh, hey Bakubro, why is your cat glaring at me?" Ejiro asked, staring down at the feline.

"What?" Katsuki didn't even bother to look up from his laptop.

"Your cat. It's giving me the evil eye. I thought it was supposed to be friendly." The red-haired hero frowned, not able to break eye contact with the cat. "I don’t think it likes me."

The small furry creature had lazily curled up in the sunspot next to Katsuki's feet, purring away without a care in the world. It seemed harmless enough, except for the heavy glare it was shooting Ejiro's way.

"Heh," Katsuki finally glanced down and crossed his arms. "He's not glaring. That's just his face."

"Ah," Ejiro nodded, "like father like son."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean!?"

Taglist: @thecindy @peachsenpie @awilddreamerwrites @miriobaby @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567 @justscar @kenmaskitten10 @freckledoriya

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

airhorn sounds in your ear as you try to sleep ITS FIC TIME, CHILDREN

His father’s first reaction is, predictably, nervous. They’re sitting in the living room as a family, all sort of hanging out, but doing their own thing. Hoarders is passively playing, Lydia is tucked under the couch with a book and flashlight, Emily is in the corner with her laptop, and BJ and Charles are each sitting on opposite ends of the couch, going through their phones. He gets a very sweet text from Adam, showing that the other teen has put the photo Lydia took of them in a frame, and he grins, and holds the device to his chest, feeling giddy and flustered. His dad notices. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” Charles smiles, and BJ figures this is as good a time as any. “I got a text from my boyfriend.” Charles stares. From her chair in the corner, Emily’s typing slows, and then stops, as her brain catches up with that sentence. His phone pings again, and he looks back down at a message from Barbara, then back to his parents. “And my girlfriend.” Emily closes her computer. Her smile is enormous. “Shut up.” “No, seriously!” he grins back at his mother, and then notes the color Charles is going. “Adam and Barbara?” Emily asks, knowingly, and he nods. “We made it official yesterday. I took em to th’ Smallpox Hospital.” “Awww! That’s so romantic!” “You’re dating?” Charles finally finds words. “Unclench your everything, dad, jeezus.” “It’s just… do you think that’s a good idea?” “I think it’s a great idea,” BJ says, a little defensive. “What, I’m not allowed to date? M’too weird for it?” ���That’s not what I meant, BJ,” Charles frowns. But he can tell it kind of is.

“Charles, honey, he’s sixteen. He’s going to date,” Emily says softly, and Charles looks back at her. “But two people at once? And they’re-” “They’re what, Chuck?” “Humans. They’re human, BJ.” “Holy shit, they are? Here I thought they were just really crappy demons.” “I just don’t know if you’ve thought this through. Wouldn’t you be happier dating another demon?” “I don’t know any other demons, dad,” he growls, temper flaring. “Unless you want me to date Sam, an’ look like a total creep, since he’s stuck at like, ten.” “Stop it, BJ.” “You stop it! Just be happy for me!” “I am.. Happy. For you.” BJ sits back, crosses his arms, and scowls. “Got a funny way of showin’ it.” His father stands, and takes to pacing. Christ. “We should lay out ground rules.” “Me an’ Adam an’ Barb did that already.” “No, I mean, house rules,” Charles says, rubbing at his beard. “Things you’re allowed to do, and not. Oh, god, first things first, I’m going to get you a box of condoms.” Betelgeuse feels himself flush, and then Lydia finally pipes up, sticking her head out from under the couch. “Gross.”

“You’re seriously blowin’ this out of proportion. We’ve barely held hands!” “I was a teenager. I remember how things escalate. The last thing we need is someone pregnant. Especially with whatever a human and a demon would make.” “Th’ anti-Christ, maybe,” he says, unhelpfully, and he sees the way his dad’s expression twists into further worry. “It was a joke! Oh my god!”

His mother, bless her, swoops in, just then. “BJ’s just told us good news,” she says, standing, and putting a hand on Charles’ arm, which stops his pacing. “I need you to reassess how you’re making him feel, right now.” Charles looks from his wife to his son. BJ rubs at his nose, embarrassed and upset, and probably purple, and he sees his father make a choice. “BJ, I’m sorry,” Charles comes over, hesitantly reaches down, and Betelgeuse responds by throwing his arms around his dad. Chuck rubs his back. “Tell me about them,” he says, “and I promise to be cool. As cool as I can be, at least.”

That’s at least something. He can tell his dad is still worried, but he does listen, as Betelgeuse describes his two partners. “We spend a lotta time together,” he tells his father. “An’ they’re both goody two shoes. Seriously, they’re borin’, nice people.” “Tell us how you met them, BJ,” Emily smiles. He regales them with the story of Barbara and the flower, and then Adam in the library, and by the time he’s done, he’s back to feeling green, all smiles and excitement and stimming hands. It feels really, really good to not be alone.

Monday comes a day too soon, and he sort of misses the atmosphere of the library, because at lunch, he’s forced to pick up trash, with Honeywell watching him intently from a bench. The only consolation prize to this is the vice principal’s time is also being wasted. He doesn’t miss how a few kids walk by and intentionally throw things at his feet for him to pick up. They don’t get away with it, though, because either they trip and find their shoelaces are mysteriously tied together, or for those unlucky ones without laces, they’ll find a snake in their lockers. The miserable part is, Adam and Barbara aren’t allowed to hang out with him while he’s working. They’d tried, and were told in no uncertain terms to leave him alone, leave him to his task, or they’d be sent to the other side of the campus to do the same thing. A little bit of punishment, he understands. But he draws the line at threatening Sexy and Babs. He’s absolutely plotting exactly how he’s going to ruin the overbearing adult’s day when he feels a strange sensation in his chest, like a slight tug. He pauses. It’s not a pain, not really, more like a pull away from himself, which doesn’t make any sense, but that’s what it is. He has to assume it’s another demon thing.

He glances at his watcher, who seems engrossed in paperwork.

Man, if only this guy would fuck off, he could be enjoying lunch with his friends- The pull away from himself is stronger, this time. He concentrates on it, and then remembers how physical the summoning of clones is, requiring a motion like he’s tossing something, and he gives that a try, this time, gently lobbing nothing at a student passing by. The kid looks surprised, and then goes rigid, and he thinks maybe he’s killed someone for the first time, but then the teen straightens up, and stands, stiff, facing him, and BJ feels mentally split, between two bodies. He raises his right hand. The student mirrors the action, eyes wide, confused. He lowers it, then kicks his leg out to the side, and again, he’s copied. Not copied.. Followed? The other student is like a marionette, and his mind is the strings, or something close to that. “Possession,” he grins, wickedly, and then he pulls himself back all to one body, and the kid falls on his ass, confused, and scrambles away.

Oh, he is so going to use this new power for evil.

“BJ Deetz! I don’t see this quad getting any cleaner!” Honeywell has looked up from his paperwork to find Betelgeuse standing there, grinning to himself, and the teen responds by spinning around, and throwing nothing at the overbearing authority figure. Honeywell also goes rigid, and BJ lifts his hands, directing the VP to stand, and the hapless adult does so. “Looks clean enough to me,” he mouths, and hears that sentence come out of Honeywell’s lips. “Clean enough to eat offa!” With a swiping motion, he forces the man to knock his own hardly touched lunch to the ground, and then BJ crouches low, and the adult follows, shoving his face into what was clearly leftovers from some night’s dinner, and coming back up with a mouthful of noodles and dirt. The big man’s eyes are wide. He’s scared, confused. It’s thrilling. With a hand motion, BJ forces the breather’s face back into the mess of food and dirt, and doesn’t let him up until the muffled cries become truly panicked. Possession out in public might be a bit too noticeable, though, because there’s a gathering group of kids watching what the teacher is doing, their phones out, taking video, and he doesn’t need them connecting his own strange movements back to Honeywell’s. He makes a final hand motion, releasing the adult, and shoves his hands in his pockets, just in time for Adam and Barbara to appear as faces in the crowd. Honeywell, freed, sits up, coughing and sputtering, and looking horrified. “What the heck happened?” Adam asks, and BJ shrugs. “He started throwin’ a fit, outta no where,” he lies, but he feels the vice principal watching him, staring up from the dirt, where he’s still sat, dazed. He gives the adult a grin. “Totally fuckin’ weird.”

The rest of his lunch period is freed up, suddenly, as Honeywell goes to clean himself off in the men’s room.

This fun new ability requires further testing, but not right now, now when Adam and Barbara are around. Soon, though. Very soon. “I’m really bummed we can’t be in the library anymore. I tried to pop in to grab something this morning and the librarian chased me out.” Adam looks genuinely sad, at that, which startles BJ out of his downright vicious thoughts. “By the way,” Adam adds, “They put up the casting sheet today. Want to guess who got that dentist part?” Barbara is grinning wide. “Me?” he croaks. A few other kids tried for it.. He didn’t think he’d get picked, honestly, thought that maybe someone more likable, or more friendly, would be chosen over him, but Barbara squishes his cheeks in her hands. “You!” she cheers, and he blushes. “You’re going to be amazing! But that means,” she tells him, suddenly serious, “-that you have to actually try.” He nods, as much as he can, her hands still on either side of his face. “Effort,” he grunts. “Got it.” She leans forward and kisses the tip of his nose. He scrambles to throw his hood over his head, and cinches it closed, knowing for a fact he’s gone pink from the tips of his hair down to the roots. “BJ?” Barbara giggles, as he peers out at her from his hood. “Should I not do that?” “NO! No, no, I, uh, just.. Warn a guy, next time.”

He hadn’t thought through the logistics of this, clearly, because he can’t be scrambling away from them every time one of them kisses him, just because his stupid hair won’t behave itself. God, he’s going to have to start wearing a beanie, or something, until he can get this color thing under control. Annoyingly, his dad was right. He really hadn’t given this much thought, beyond, Adam and Barbara pretty, wanna kiss them. Now he’s got to work out the logistics of how he’s going to actually achieve that goal, without basically, for lack of a better word, outing himself. He doesn’t want to think that something like what happened with Kevin could happen again, but he hadn’t really seen that situation coming, and it had ended about as poorly as a budding romance can, with parental murder. So yeah, he’s not exactly confident he can trust them with this secret. Better to keep it to himself, play his cards close to the chest, not let them all the way in. That’s safest for all of them. Good plan, BJ, he thinks to himself, watching Barbara dust wood shavings out of Adam’s hair, a leftover byproduct of his shop class. No one gets hurt. No one has to know anything. He can keep playing human with his cute new partners for as long as they’ll let him.

Stretching before him, suddenly, he foresees a lifetime, several lifetimes actually, given the span of existence for a demon, lifetimes full of deceit and lies and partners who age without him, and it all makes him very tired, and sad. This is going to be how it is, he realizes. He’s going to pretend and mimic and do his best to fit himself into a template that he wasn’t made for, and he’s presumably going to be doing it forever, maybe until the minute the last human takes their last breath, because playing human is as close as he can get. It's easier to play pretend, throw a glamour on and act along, than to be himself and risk the pain and rejection, or the truth that maybe his worth is tied into what he can do, not who he is. It all leaves him dizzy, this sudden moment of unwanted clarity. He pushes it down, far down at it can go, to somewhere deep in his chest, and tries to come back to this moment, right now, because his boyfriend is looking at him. “You going to stay in that hood all day, shy guy?” Adam smiles, and BJ peels the hood back, and runs a hand through the mop of green mess that passes for his hair, and smiles, like he didn’t just have a mini existential crisis in the middle of a Monday afternoon. “What do you guys do for lunch when you’re not being wooed by an errant library assistant?” Betelgeuse forces an extra bit of pep that he doesn’t feel into his voice, and Barbara brightens. “You can come meet my friends!” She says, and he lets her lead him by the hand, across the quad, a corpse playing pretend at being alive, holding hands with the living.

They find Barbara’s friends at the lunch tables. He’s never sat over here, never really had reason to be over here at all, actually, because each table is always claimed by a friend group, and he’s never felt welcome enough to try and squeeze in with any of them. But he sort of has a group now, he supposes. If three can be a crowd, it can be a group. He does feel eyes on him as he’s directed on where to sit by Barbara, other kids at other tables watching him, maybe confused on how he’s ingratiated himself enough to actually have a place to sit. Barbara arranges where they sit, seemingly very intentionally, with herself between Betelgeuse and Adam, and Allison and Blair on the other side of the table, and they begin eating. The air is a little tense. He picks at his lunch, leftovers Charles packed for him. It smells amazing, but he doesn’t want to scarf it all down, not when he’s feeling watched, the way he is. And he is being watched, very intently so, by Barbara’s friends, who are apparently also Adam’s friends. Everyone but him seems to know so many other people. It’s almost insane, like, how do they keep them all straight? He’s only vaguely aware of which one of these similar white girls is Blair, because he’s spoken to her, at least once. Allison might as well be a balloon with a face painted on it. “So,” Blair puts down her fork. She’s eating a dry salad with little chunks of chicken in it, low carb, low cal. He’d be worried for her health if he gave a shit. “So,” he copies her instinctively, tilting her head the same way she does, holding his hands in front of himself in a mirror of her own movements. Barbara catches what he’s doing, and gives his arm a gentle pinch. “Is this for real?” Blair isn’t asking him, she’s looking between Adam and Barbara, who are both looking a little surprised at the sudden question. “What do you mean?” Adam asks, unsure, and Blair gestures between the three of them. “This whole.. This! When Barbara said she suddenly had two boyfriends, I had to check my calendar, make sure it wasn’t April Fool’s. And then it turns out to be you and..” Her eyes fall back on Betelgeuse. “Him. You, Adam, I get. You and Barbara together, that makes sense. But, like, BJ?” “Sure, if you’re offerin’,” he says, and Blair makes a face. Go on over to Ao3 to read the rest!! There's more waiting for your hungry eyes over there

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair 

Chapter 6: Bonded Pair 

Chapter Summary: Things get more difficult for Jamie as he struggles to keep himself in check.

Read on AO3

Read Chapter 6 below the cut

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Chapter 6: Bonded Pair 

Jamie was just about to stand up (unsure of how exactly he was going to do so with Claire still reclining on his chest and giving no indication that she was interested in moving) when suddenly his stomach let out a loud grumble. 

Claire had jerked away and was twisted to look at him in concern before his stomach had even stopped its growl. There wasn’t even a chance to explain. She thrust a hand out to place over his stomach, palm flat against it and oh-so tiny, and she looked up at him with such earnest worry. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. 

Her free hand came up to rest on his jaw. He could feel her thrumming with concern over him. 

Jamie found himself enjoying her attentions so much that he almost didn’t want to explain to her that there was nothing to worry about. But her brows were furrowed and she was studying him anxiously, so he quickly explained. 

“Dinna fash. That’s just my body telling me that I need to eat.” 

In all the excitement, food had been the last thing on his mind. He spared a glance down at his watch and found it to be 14:10. Seems he’d forgotten all about lunch. 

Claire was giving him a look of admonishment. “You need to care for yourself,” she said, looking disturbed, “if your body is telling you that, it’s for a reason.” 

He gave her a dismissive half-shrug. “I jes’ forget wi’ everythin’ goin’ on. Humans usually eat three times a day, ken? I already had my first meal, which we call breakfast, and now it seems I missed lunch, the second meal.” 

“We need to get you it then,” she exclaimed. She shot to her feet and reached a dainty hand down to him. When he didn’t immediately move, she added an urgent, “come now!” 

Jamie snorted a good-natured huff through his nose at her rush, but took her hand and allowed her to try to haul him to his feet (really, he did most of the work himself, but wanted her to feel useful). 

“It’s alright,” he laughed as she started dragging him by the hand toward the stairs, “I’m okay. It willna harm me tae miss a meal.” 

She stopped and turned around, brows knit together so there were two wee creases between them that Jamie wanted to reach out and trace over with his thumb. But he resisted, and met her eyes instead. 

“Your body is telling you to eat, so you’ll eat,” she said decisively, “come on.” 

They went together to the kitchen, where Claire looked at him expectantly. He sat her down on a stool of the island and began to prepare some chicken. As he cooked, he narrated to Claire what he was doing and tried to explain the basics, but he had a feeling that most of it went over her head. And he certainly did not explain what the chicken had once been. 

When it was finally done, Jamie sat down at his kitchen table and Claire wandered after to sit across from him. 

As he ate, Claire propped her elbows on the tabletop and rested her chin on her hands. She watched with fascination, those whiskey eyes wide to take in his every move. He felt like a bit of a lab rate under a microscope, which was rather disconcerting. Ignoring good manners of not speaking with food in one’s mouth (she wouldn’t know the difference anyway), he broke the silence. 

“Sorry fer makin’ ye wait while I eat,” he said simply to fill the space. 

“Don’t be sorry,” she said in an upbeat tone, “I like watching you.” 

“Och, aye? Why’s that?” he teased between a bite. 

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. And I care about you,” she stated very simply. 

Jamie nearly choked on his food. She was so straightforward in her statement. She likely didn’t even see the implications of saying that to him. No wonder he was heart-sick over her when she said such things and touched him without shame and climbed into his bed and looked at him like he was her everything and... 

But it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know any better. 

He quickly gathered his wits and countered playfully, “am I no’ one of the only human men ye’ve ever seen?” 

She chuckled a little. “Well, yes. But I just mean…” she struggled with herself over how to express the next part before saying, “of the men I’ve seen, but also of all the fair folk, I’ve never seen someone as perfect as you.” 

If Jamie could have smacked himself without drawing attention, he would have delivered a solid one upside his head over the way his heart foolishly leapt at her words. 

Despite the fact that he’d promised to himself not to act on his feelings for her, he couldn’t help but say, “Well, ye’re the bonniest lass I’ve ever laid eyes on, so I supposed we’re even.” 

Claire smiled at that, and even eliciting that reaction from her gave him the forbidden urge to do everything in his power to make her smile like that for every moment of every day for the rest of his life. Jamie was quickly being carried off by his fancies and it was only getting harder and harder to resist the affection that welled up in him at every damn thing she did… 

Jamie quickly went back to finishing his food. They passed the rest of his meal in silence, seemingly Claire was just as lost in her own thoughts as he was in his. Afterwards, he cleaned up quickly, and then began showing Claire around the house as promised. 

He led her by the hand— her insistence, he justified, not his— around to each room. Her bedroom, of course, his (which she’d found no problem last night), the bathroom (where an awkward conversation about the function of a toilet had ensued), and Jamie’s study. 

“What’s this?” Claire asked, pointing toward the laptop on his desk. 

“That is… well, that is verra difficult to explain. Maybe save it for another day?” 

He placed a hand on her lower back to steer her towards the door. A familiar zing raced through him as he touched her, and he felt absurdly like his hand was glued to the spot. He couldn’t seem to remove it. She was warm under his palm, and he could feel the curve of her flesh where it made a divot at her spine. His hand was so big and her back so small that his fingers spanned the entire area. As he led her downstairs again, his hand remained rooted to the spot. 

No harm, he figured, as long as Claire didna mind. And it seemed that she enjoyed it just as much as she did any other touch. 

She had seen most of the downstairs already. Still, he went through each room— the kitchen, dining room, living room, downstairs bathroom, even the entryway, and the hallway that led down to the basement. To end his tour, though, he was excited to show Claire the back garden. 

He led her outside and proudly showed off the backside of his property. Off to the right was the vegetable patch, admittedly a little under loved, with various plants and herbs growing there. 

Claire let out a squee of excitement and let go of his hand to run toward it like an energized child. She knelt down in the dirt to run her hands all over the plants, heedless of the mess she was making on his (hers now, really) sweatpants. (Not that Jamie particularly minded, he had more. He just enjoyed seeing her excited). 

“They could use a bit more love,” she commented, shooting him a slightly admonishing look out of the corner of her eye, “but I am glad you have this bit of nature with you. Don’t you feel stuffed up being in there all the time?” She gave a wave of distaste in the general direction of the house. 

“Jes’ remember, lass,” he chuckled, “inside is where it’s warm. Canna say the same for out here.” 

As if on cue, a shudder ran down Claire’s body. She grimaced and wrapped her arms around herself. Gooseflesh was already popping up on her skin, and he kent well that she’d be a trembling mess if he didn’t get her inside soon. 

“Come on, Sassenach. Let’s get ye out of the cold. Ye can come back out and show some love tae the plants once we get ye a proper coat.” 

He reached down and took her elbow to help her up. She went willingly, pressing herself into Jamie’s side as he began to walk toward the house. In order to keep from tripping over her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and synced his steps to hers. It seemed that to be nestled against him was exactly what she’d wanted, because she gave him a smile as they walked inside together. 

The sun was already going down since it was getting late, and Jamie realized that it was time to take some action. He hadn’t thought too far yet into the future, but what he did know was that there was no way in hell he was leaving Claire alone tomorrow while he went into work. However, perks of being the boss were that you didn’t always have to come in. He’d just have to call to let them know. 

He didn’t want Claire to fash herself about what was going on with all that, so once they got inside, he asked her if she could entertain herself for a little bit while he took care of some things. She gave a nod (looking a little too eager at the prospect for his taste), and then he left her downstairs while he went up to his study. 

Once safely inside with the door shut, he sat down at his desk and picked up his phone. He dialed Ian, his brother-in-law and business partner, and waited for his friend to pick up.

“Jamie!” came Ian’s enthusiastic voice, “I havna heard from ye since work on Friday and wondered if ye’d gone hikin’ and fallen down a hole.” 

Jamie had to resist the urge to say “something like that,” but instead got straight to the point and answered with a simple, “I’ve been busy. Listen, Ian, somethin’ has come up, and I canna come intae work tomorrow.” 

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. Ye havna missed a day in God-knows-how-long, and now ye expect to jes’ ‘not come in’ wi’ no word of explanation other than ‘somethin’s come up’? Spill, Jamie.” 

He should have known better than to think Ian would accept it without pressing him for details. Truth be told, he hadn’t actually thought through what to tell him if he asked. He couldn’t very well say that he’d rescued a faerie from atop a magic hill and now he doesn’t want to leave her. Suppressing a sigh, he pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. 

“Aye, I havna missed a day in years, Ian. Which is exactly why I deserve a day off wi’out ye grillin’ me. Everythin’s fine. I jes’ need some time.” 

He could hear Ian’s eye roll over the phone. “Alright, I’ll let ye off the hook for now, brother. But dinna think ye’re gettin’ away wi’ this. Especially when I tell Jenny about how strange ye’re bein’.”

Jamie groaned. “Dinna drag my sister into this. I’m jes’ askin’ fer a day off, no’ announcin’ I’m fleein’ the country.”

“All this could be avoided if ye’d only tell me what’s goin’ on wi’ ye.” 

“Goodbye, Ian,” Jamie said pointedly. 

“Alright, ye bugger. Goodbye. I’ll talk tae ye soon.” 

With that, he hung up. And Jamie was free to head back to his Sassenach. 

Not his, he corrected himself firmly. 

He gave a cursory glance into the rooms on his way downstairs, but he didn’t really think she’d be in there. When he didn’t find her in the kitchen, he paused briefly to preheat the oven for something or other he could throw in. Claire wasn’t in the living room either, and he was starting to wonder what the devil she was getting up to. His heart jumped to his throat when his brain suddenly questioned whether she had left. But that was highly unlikely, she had nowhere to go after all, and he shoved that aside. 

Suddenly, it came to him that he knew exactly where she was, and he headed there. 

Just as expected, Claire was sitting cross-legged in front of the space heater, Adso curled on her lap, and both of their eyes were closed in relaxed bliss. 

Jamie cleared his throat, and two sets of eyes— one gold and one green— flicked to him in startlement. 

“Interrupting something?” he joked. 

Claire smiled— both in greeting and triumph. 

“I figured out how to turn it on.” 

“I see that,” he said as he made his way toward her and sat down next to her a respectful distance away, “verra canny. I searched for ye for a bit. I shouldha known exactly where ye’d be.” 

“Shower was a close second,” she admitted, “but I didn’t think I could manage that one alone.” 

They were both quiet for a second. Everything was still save Claire’s rhythmic stroking of Adso’s fur. 

“How are ye feelin’?” he asked after a time. 

She tilted her head. “I’m fine. I haven’t felt any ill effects from the stones at all today,” she answered dismissively. 

“I meant... with all this.” He raised a hand in an abortive circle, indicating the enormity of the situation. 

Her hands stilled on Adso, and he wanted desperately to take them in his. But for once, she didn’t reach for him or offer touch, so he left the little bit of space between them undisturbed and swallowed down his disappointment. 

“I am alright,” she said, but sounded hesitant, as if she was trying to convince herself as well, “it’s just a lot to take in. I’m scared, of course…” there was a slight trembling in her hands where they were buried in the cat’s fur, “but I’m glad you’re here.” 

She ended by rewarding him with a blinding, albeit a little tremulous, smile. Her eyes crinkled adorably at the corners as she did, and that was how Jamie knew she’d be okay. 

“I’m glad ye’re here too,” he found himself saying despite himself, “I’m glad I found ye on that hill. I— I’m aware that sounds strange, but I feel like our paths were meant to cross. I ken this is a terrible situation for ye, Sorcha,” he didn’t think he had the self-control to stop himself from reaching for her hand, so he shoved them both under his legs instead, “but I’m glad ye’re here wi’ me.” 

“I’m glad to know you, too, Jamie,” she breathed, hands folded in her lap. 

In that moment, she leaned in closer to him. Their faces were mere centimeters apart, lips so close that their breath mingled together. The air was thick and heavy with tension; his heartbeat pounded in his ears, a second delayed from the organ itself thundering inside his chest. Her eyes were locked with his, and for an instant, he thought for sure she wanted to kiss him. He drew even closer, ready to lean in and bridge the distance between them, anticipating the feeling of her soft mouth against his...

-But the spell was broken as suddenly as a bubble popping when Adso chose that exact moment to jump off Claire’s lap, making them both jerk backward away from each other. 

With the magic of the moment gone, Jamie felt foolish and averted his eyes from her, his cheeks flushing. He must have been reading too far into the situation—  his fantasies getting the better of him. She was a faerie. He was a human. And they sat in his basement in front of the space heater. He needed to keep himself better in line before he did something to betray her trust. He shook himself out of his daze and stood abruptly. 

Claire stood as well, yawning slightly as she did. 

“Why dinna ye get some rest, Sassenach?” he suggested. 

She nodded. As he turned to head upstairs with her, she slipped her hand in his, and he smiled. At least he hadn’t scared her off. 

Walking together as they always did, Jamie led her upstairs. He grabbed her a change of clothes, another one of his tee shirts and some sweats, and left them on the bed with her in the guest bedroom. 

They both stood awkwardly in front of each other for a moment. He thought about telling her goodnight, but suddenly found he didn’t want to leave her just that second. Instead, he told her “I’ll let ye change,” and walked out, closing the door behind him.

A minute later, the door opened and Claire peeped out. Finding him still there, she smiled, and opened the door wider. 

“Come now, I’ll tuck ye in, lass,” he said. He felt a little absurd saying it (perhaps this was crossing boundaries as well?) but Claire seemed glad. He held the blankets up for her, and she slid in underneath them. 

“Goodnight, Claire,” he said softly as he settled the covers under her chin. 

“Goodnight, Jamie,” she breathed, giving him a sleepy smile. 

Then, before he could do something foolish like kiss her forehead, he turned and left the room. 

If he was being honest with himself, what he did next could best be described as “fleeing.” He all but ran downstairs, and then shoveled some food in his mouth, careless about what it was. If he thought of her at that moment, he’d never stop— let alone sleep— so he shoved all thoughts of the faerie from his mind. Instead, he made up a rough shopping list while he ate, and once he was finished, mindlessly did the dishes. 

He was dead tired, even though it wasn’t that late. His footsteps echoed off the walls as he trudged upstairs. He breezed through his nighttime routine, and soon he was sliding into bed. 

His head had scarcely hit the pillow when the door opened. A curly head peeked through, followed immediately by the rest of Claire. Just as boldly as the previous night, she walked in and began to crawl into his bed. 

But at the sight of her, Jamie had bolted upright. Before she could lay down next to him, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. She sat down beside him on the bed, turning big doe eyes on him, which he could make out clearly by the bulbs from the hall. The low lighting made them appear an even deeper shade of whiskey, and his breath hitched. 

“What?” she asked. 

“It isna right, lass...” he explained gently, but a little huskily. This was using every ounce of self-discipline he possessed… “Lads and lasses dinna sleep together in the same bed if they arena together— that means bonded for life—” he hastily elucidated his fumbling statement, “that’s why I gave ye yer own room.” 

“But aren’t we bonded for life now?” 

Her breathy question knocked all the air from his lungs. 

And the way she was looking at him, so earnest...

He couldn’t breathe, let alone answer. He desperately wanted to cry at her sincere tone. Because there was nothing more in the entire world that he wanted to say than “of course we are.” But she didn’t understand what that meant. 

So Jamie was unable to say anything at all. 

The silence stretched on for a long second as he struggled inside himself. Claire was the one who finally broke it. 

“Please, Jamie. I don’t want to be alone.” 

Her pleading tone broke his resolve. Obliterated into tiny pieces. There was no way that he could ever even dream of saying no to her after that. 

“Come here, mo nighean donn,” he breathed. 

He opened his arms to her, and she instantly came to him, leaning in as he folded her against himself. Gently, he laid them both down together on the bed. He thought perhaps he would gather her spoon-fashion against him, but once they were horizontal, he found that she didn’t want to face away from him. She settled against his side, her head rested on his chest and arms snaking their way around his middle. So, he simply adjusted his own arms around her until he was comfortable and relaxed into the bed. 

Jamie lay awake long after Claire’s breathing had evened out to the rhythm of sleep. Eyes wide open in the darkness, he held her tightly as his mind raced. 

It would be a sleepless night for him. 

Because he could no longer deny what it was he felt for her. 

Love. 

Self-sacrificing, all-encompassing, completely consuming love.

***

Next

[cosmiclatte28]

6 Shots of Coffee (Jaemin x you + Dreamies)

a/n: I am back! With a sudden wild oneshot. Please be aware that this is purely fan-fiction. Anything happening here is mere pure imagination. I did not intend to connect any disorders with the idols in real life.

Warning : characters with disorders, a lot of dozing off characters, character with slight adhd (i tried my best to picture them correctly but I’m sorry if everything is wrong, i only did a short research). Mentions of orphanage, drunk parents, and a broken family. HAPPY ENDING! 

CHARACTERS : dream (minus Hyuck and Mark), Taeyong, and Yuta also our brave (y/n)! 

here we go, 

If there are three things in life you hate, that will be Jaemin, Jaemin, and oh god another team assignment with Jaemin!

Jaemin has been the most excruciating classmate you ever have! Not only did he tease you about your freakin need of keeping things in their proper place and keeping things spotless, but he also keeps using you to help him pass his classes. Yet no teacher minds your complain, and all the school girls think you're a freak for being mad about sharing a group project with the handsome guy.

No you’re not sick or weird. You just love organizing things and you like clean things a bit too much. Why? Coz you've had some bad memories with dirty things. Okay Jaemin is just another naughty kid in your class who likes to play and have fun with others, but you certainly did not find his jokes funny.

“Come on calm down (y/n)! It's only coffee, we can clean that.” Jaemin tries to laugh it off despite seeing you standing completely frozen in front of him with an empty cup and you with a  brown uniform. Although you clearly see there is a slight worry in his eyes.

You hold yourself back. How come the worst day has to become worse?! You woke up to period cramps, you forgot a homework thanks to late night distracted room cleaning, and as you were about to rush to type your homework in the library, Jaemin decided to meddle and spill his coffee on your white uniform.

A part of you want to scream and yell and pull his hair apart, but you're too tired to talk with Jaemin. Let alone think about Jaemin, there's just so many things you hate related to Jaemin.

Despite him trying his best to apologize and to help you wash your clothes, which is something new… Jaemin never cared if he messed up with you. You ended up slapping his hand away when he wants to drag you to the office to ask a spare uniform.

“Go away! I have to rush,” you push him aside with your shoulder and run to the library. Knowing so well you'll probably get another minus score and a weird look from the library thanks to your stained uniform.

You hate the feeling of sitting down with this coffee stained shirt, and as much as you want to open that shirt and change into something else, you don’t have the energy. So, after sitting down on the table with the library's laptop you stare into the keyboard only to focus more on your uniform and the least wanted thing happens.

You cry. You cry by yourself in the corner of the room and you don’t really mind the stare they give. You just want to end life here, can anyone just stab you? Or can the ground split and swallow you?

There’s another thing you hate other than Jaemin meddling with your ugly life. It's dirt and unorganized objects. Why? Well you were once a very regular kid, always playing in the rain mud and all kinds of sand. You don’t mind having dirt all over your body you know when you go home you can shower. That's until you grow up and notice how your family is different. Your parents look like they are okay, but every night you hear them argue and argue. The argument gets stronger and scarier, they shout, scream, throw things down and you were always awaken to the no longer comfy homey house. You realize one day you woke up to seeing your dad getting drunk, your mother depressed, and the house super dirty like a tornado just hold a party. It’s awful to wake up to the smell of cigar and alcohols instead of bacons and eggs. You had to keep one plate with you or else it will end up like its friends, lifeless, prickly, sharp, on the ground.

Your maid stopped working, you're moved to a new school, this middle school where you meet Jaemin and some other annoying problematic students. Your once colorful life turned dark and gloomy. No longer you woke up to morning kiss and breakfast. You find yourself sitting alone in the dining room, preparing your own sandwich from some cheap dry bread. No more nutella and you're grateful for butter.

You tried to understand, keeping all to yourself as you grow up and noticed your family is broken. You thought everything will get better, one day mom and dad will love each other again and you'll be back with the bright family you love.

Life is not that kind. Life is cruel, on your 14th birthday your dad left for another woman and your mother dropped you off to an orphanage. She said she can no longer pay for your school and living fees. Heck she even had to borrow money to buy you your monthly pads.

The cheerful friendly you turned 180° into a mournful secretive teenager. You hate everyone who looks bright and you hate every single dirt. Seeing unorganized things and dirty objects just remind you of the dark memories you want to forget.

The orphanage found your smart talent and you got a scholarship making you still able to attend the school. The orphanage you live in has a rule where there is a schedule for cleaning up and preparing dish. You meet a similar boy who has the same problem with you; just that he looks like he had overcome his bitterness and chooses to live a happy life. Which you deadly want to do but cannot.

Renjun, is the only person you talk to in that house. The adults taking care over you, still cannot make you talk comfortably with him and you're not planning to do any sooner.

“Hey, it's me. Should we make a letter to the office and go home?” Renjun's soft voice comes to your ear and you look up to him with blood red eyes.

“How long have I been crying?” you sniffle.

He shrugs his shoulder “I just came an hour ago when I noticed you're missing Chemistry class and Jaemin too. I thought he was with you.”

You scowl “Why would I be with Jaemin?”

Renjun scratches his head “I don’t know… you were always assigned a team with him… I thought both of you are rushing a task.”

“I am having a bad day.” You exhale.

Renjun shakes his head “That is more than a bad day. Here, put this on that coffee is hot or cold?” he gives you his school blazer and you gladly put it over your stained uniform.

You sigh, of course Renjun noticed. He is also like you, despise any single speck of dust.

“Jaemin spilled his cold coffee on me. Now I am late to submit my work, I'll never get the essay done and I am skipping classes. GREAT! Looks like I will be kicked out of school next week.”

Renjun shakes his head again “Silly, you're dramatic. They won’t kick you just because of that. What about your achievements?”

You scoff “They can always find another better painter. I could barely tell difference in colors.”

Renjun smiles well that’s what makes you different. The school honors your brilliant talent of drawing although you have a hard time distinguishing colors. But your emotions are well delivered on every picture you paint. That gives honor to the school when the art teacher secretly sent your works to different curators and exhibitions.

“Come, we will go home. I'll make your letter. Can you wait for me in the lobby by yourself?” Renjun smooths your hair away.

You shake your head and clearly looks afraid “Can I join you?”

He nods and lets you go with him, blaming himself for ever offering you that option.

You got home, Renjun fixes your mood by giving you new clothes. Yes, as simple as that, and you’re already less scarier than before. He makes you tea when he saw the circled date on the calendar and drops you some pain killers.

“It's that month, sorry for not noticing had I known, I'd bring you home when I heard Jaemin looking for you around the school.”

You pause from cutting the potatoes, well you need to start cooking dinner for the others. “Jaemin looked around for me?”

Renjun nods “Uh huh that's also how I know something is not right. Jaemin never looked for you except when he needs your score.”

You curl your lips “Weird. He also wanted to bring me to the office, which he never did before.”

Your sudden emotional change is a regular thing to Renjun. Although at first he has to bear with your monthly exploding sensitivity since you're the first teenage girl in this house, Renjun manages to tame you down when he calmly offer you a cup of warm chamomile tea you love.

“Maybe it’s the coffee.” You shrug it off. Come to think of it, you never see the school selling coffee but Jaemin always brings his cup of super dark coffee.

“Oh home early?” Taeyong, the oldest son of the orphanage owner, greets you both. Well Taeyong is like the head matron here, every school letter directed to him and every new kid will meet him.

“It's not her day. I brought her home before she spent another day dozing off in the school's garden.” Renjun whispers to Taeyong and the older just nods his head.

“Oh! Did I mention to you we will have a new family tonight? Please be nice, he comes from this neighborhood and we actually had been waiting for his arrival since last month, but he always escaped before his vise parents want to drop him here.

You grow annoyed at this news. Well you don’t really like having to act kind and good in front of the others. Especially when meeting new members. Taeyong always asked you to at least be welcoming and less patronizing but you cannot keep your resting bitch face to yourself.

“I might as well skip dinner.” You taunt at Taeyong “No way I am acting kind in front of that person when I had a shitty day.”

Taeyong just hums to your threat, it is nothing new. You're a stone heart and he doesn’t want to have to slap you because of your stubbornness.

“I don’t mind. Just try to be welcoming, he had a rough time too.” Taeyong waves his hand and disappears behind his study room.

“I wonder who is going to join us. Our dining table is empty after Mark and Hyuck got adopted.” Renjun is excited to welcome the new family, maybe because he really likes it better here and therefore, he wants to make sure everyone else is welcomed.

Unlike you who still can't swallow the bitter truth. For you, your real family was the best, yet you didn’t know when everything started to fall apart.

The other comes home, you see Jisung, Jeno, and Chenle coming from the backyard and you hide yourself back on your room. Dinner is ready they just have to heat it up. The stew.

You close your window and come back to sit in front of your paper. Trying to remember what project you missed and have to do.

You look around the room, you used to have a bigger room, but after Taeyong knew you cannot stay still when there are mess, he moved you to a smaller room where you cannot store so many things. He said its for your own good. He doesn’t want you to stress yourself and distract your studies just to clean things up.

You feel your stomach rumbling but when you hear the noisy sound downstairs, you remember the new family. Actually, you are curious, so you sneak from your room and take a peek from the walls.

Your mind might be playing tricks on you, you rub your eyes and focus more to the familiar man in the same uniform as yours. You want to doubt it, but when you hear Jisung repeats his name you want to jump away from this house and run far away.

Life must have hated you so much to send Na Jaemin not only to your school but also to your “house".

Although you try to ignore him, your mind wonders what makes him come here. He looks like he is okay, only naughty, but he doesn’t look like an orphan.

“Dinner?” Yuta, Taeyong's younger brother asks you when he was about to go down and greet Jaemin.

You quickly gasp and shake your head before making a quick run to lock yourself in your room.

You try to think of any reason why Jaemin is here… from dinner to nine you cannot think of doing other thing rather than fiddling with your pen as you let your brain wonder and wonder.

Only around twelve did you suddenly jolt and realize you've wasted another night without doing your paper. You hear a step on the squeaky floor, and you have to stay quiet. Taeyong and Yuta wouldn’t like seeing you still awake this late. However, you don’t recognize the footsteps. Must be Jaemin’s.

The next morning, you escape earlier from the house. Leaving before breakfast for the sake of not meeting Jaemin. You're still mad at him and you hate him. You hate him for giving you hard times at school and now at “home".

You were waiting in the class when suddenly Jaemin comes into the class with a nervous face. You wonder did he just see a ghost? Jaemin really looks out of his place. Did he finally realize he is thrown away to the orphanage? Or did he finally realize you're secretly writing foot notes to the teacher that Jaemin is only leeching on your grades? Did he get called by the office?

You try your best to stop distracting your mind and continue working your essay. Thank goodness you can submit the work when the teacher leaves the class, only then did you see Jaemin's frozen state on his chair.

“Jaem?” you surprise yourself too for calling out his name. He also looks surprised.

“Yes?” he puts on his damn sickening pretty smile back like he always did to other students.

“Erase that smile. It's creepy.” You mutter and the other girls in your class is wanting to end you up there and then.

“Sorry, it’s just that… I … I didn’t get my coffee this morning.”

You raise your brow, oh right. Taeyong and Yuta are not giving us caffeine until we are 20.

You raise a brow “And? Can’t you skip once?”

His feet thump on the floor and he looks around nervously “You're right. I- don’t mind me.” He stands up and suddenly leaves you with bigger question mark in your head.

He sure is weird. What’s wrong with skipping one cup of that bitter liquid?

--

“(Y/n)! Come let's go home.” Renjun greets you on the lobby as you wait for the youngers to come too.

“Noona, you should meet Jaemin hyung! He is so sweet last night!” Jisung tugs on your uniform.

You frown and shudder your shoulder “Jisung, I hate that man.”

Jeno just laughs at your words and at Jisung's surprised expression “So, should we wait for him?”

You click your tongue “Actually that weird man left class after the first session and did not come back to class. Maybe he ran away. Let's go before it rains.” You start leaving the lobby, but no one follows you.

“Is it because of us?” Jisung worriedly asks his brothers.

Renjun thinks for a while “You mean what happened this morning?”

Jisung nods. Your ear can still hear them, for they start walking after you too. You have to hold yourself from turning around and asking them what happened this morning that made him weird!

When the five of you enter the house, that's when your brain finally clicked on what Jaemin must be suffering.

There in the middle of the living room, is Jaemin looking so uncomfortable as he forces his hand to write on a paper with a textbook opened by his side, but what comes out of his hand is just scribbles of lines and curves and he looks like he is painting instead of writing an essay.

“So damn hard to be productive!” he suddenly throws his pen and pulls his hair. All five of you are shocked to see this. Even you! You never see this side of Jaemin in school.  He always looks like the charming prince every girl’s crush, but this is definitely not the same man.

His lips are trembling, limbs unable to stop shaking and he looks in pain. And he starts to hit himself as if scolding his body for not cooperating.

You are in awe and you have to quickly usher Jisung and Chenle away.

“Jaemin! Calm down okay.” Jeno and Renjun quickly stand by his side and tries to keep the boy from hitting himself.

You bring Jisung and Chenle to their rooms while your head is quickly thinking of what to do. You sure see he is panicking and he's throwing tantrum. Taeyong and Yuta are not here yet but when you see your reflection on the window with a clean uniform suddenly your mind reminds you of the incident yesterday.

Coffee. Na Jaemin needs coffee. As silly as it sounds, you've read somewhere that coffee can help someone with ADHD or something like that. You're not sure, but you want to give it a chance. You run to your room, break your saving jar and pick out the bills you've been saving.

“Jaemin, how many shots?” you ask him when you pass through him.

Renjun and Jeno look at you with question in their face but Jaemin understands you and holds out a number with his hand.

Your eyes widen but you run to the nearest coffee shop, the one with the brand you always see Jaemin holding.

“Give me americano with six shots of espresso. Cold I don’t know with water or not.” You sound as mad as a hatter, but the barista seems to notice something.

“Are you by any chance taking an order for Jaemin?” he asks you nod your head baffled that he is a regular here until the shift knows his order and name.

“I was confused when the morning shift told me Jaemin skipped his coffee today. Alright i'll make it like how he always orders.” The man with a name tag Mark punches the bill and gives you the amount.

You don’t mind paying such high price for the black bitter drink you never like, as soon as Mark hands you the drink you walk as fast as you can back to the house.

You see Renjun waiting for you in the porch and he looks pale.

“Where did you go?! I was worried.” Renjun almost scolds you for leaving suddenly.

You walk past him “Jaemin! I have your coffee.” You yell at him, who is currently staring on the TV that's off. Jeno is still sitting next to him, afraid that Jaemin will do anything dangerous.

Jaemin's eyes widen as he quickly takes over the drink and gulp it down like his life depends on it.

All three of you wait for him to finish half of his drink and like magic, Jaemin looks calmer.

He closes his eyes and leans on the couch. His head rests on the small pillow Jeno tosses to him and you can see his usual self back.

After ten minutes, he opens his eyes stretches his body and like a robot who has his reset button pressed, Jaemin shoots a “what?” look to the three of you.

“Sorry if I freaked all of you out. I…” he shyly scratches his head “I have a minor ADHD and … coffee seems to be helping me focus and calm down.”

Now everything clicks. You understand why the teacher actually always assigned you with him, because no one else can handle Jaemin as patient as you and you're too blunt to notice he has his own trouble. You understand why he always brings a coffee to the class and why he looks calm when he has them. Unlike yesterday when he spilled it over you, you clearly see a slight terror in his eyes, and he disappeared from class. Maybe he was shy of showing his true self in class. You now know the reason he skipped class today because of the lack of caffeine and you just didn’t know he is also as wrecked as you guys.

That night, Jaemin knocks on your door and invites you to join dinner.

“You skipped dinner last night, I don’t know if it’s because I was there… and yesterday I was really ruining your day. I'm sorry I wasn’t a good friend too at school.” Jaemin speaks rather in a calm tone and you're taken aback he can speak in a soft kind voice and not the high pitch annoying teasing voice you regular get in school.

You're flustered, but you quickly put back your cold face “It's okay. T'was my fault too not looking the way.  Don’t worry I skipped dinner last night coz I am not hungry.” You lied.

No way you were going to spill the truth to him, not when you already know how hard his days are. He was not as bright and happy as he looks like.

“Renjun told me last night everything about you. I am so sorry…I didn’t know my jokes were very painful and disturbing to you. I should’ve stopped but you know I sometimes cannot hold my brain back.” Chuckles Jaemin nervously.

You sigh and place a hand on his shoulder “Life is hard right?” He nods his head and you squeeze his shoulder, “We also find it hard. But at least we're not alone now. We have each other and the others too. I am also sorry for picking on you to the teacher for leeching my score, but I promise I won’t do that again. I'll help you Jaemin.” You smile sincerely to him.

His face brightens “You're the best! I always have hard time focusing! Well coffee helps me, but still it's not healthy.”

You take his hand in yours “Na Jaemin, you're a part of our family now. Since we're family, we will get each other's back! Don’t worry things will be okay and you too will be okay!”

He Smiles and that is a new smile you've ever seen on him. A smile that's pure and true. That shows he too is also a human who can feel pain not just the angelic handsome boy in class.

“We should eat. The others are waiting,” Chenle's appearance in the hallway makes you and Jaemin turn your heads to him.

“She's right. We're family, now family eats dinner, together right? Come on! Taeyong hyung got us some pizzas for your welcome party.” Chenle drags the taller man's hand which automatically pulls you too.

A smile comes to your face when you realize just how perfect this imperfect family is!

Yes you also struggled focusing on a certain job, yes you also hate messy stuffs, yes it's true Renjun took three months to open his mouth and speak complete sentences, it also takes Jeno five months to be true about his feelings, and Jisung plus Chenle? They also have their fish to fry. Now Jaemin, is here with his own battle that will soon be shared within us.

Just like the famous quote, Ohana means family and family means no one is left behind.

Looking around the table, although you really wish you have a sister or a mother figure here, you're more than happy to call the 7 men your brothers and families.

end

please let me know if there are anything I can fix. I am trying a new genre and it’s a bit challenging but I am happy with finishing this. 

Contact or reach me out if you have any curiosity of what happens to the members or maybe you wonder what their problems are. 

Thank you for reading :D 🤗💖

[smol-and-grumpy]

Something Just Like This - CH05

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: Angst, doubt, sadness a little. But also fucking fluff.

WC: 3575

SERIES MASTERLIST

“Winchester! You got a cigarette?” Milligan’s voice was clear in his ear. “Please, I need one.”

“No, man.” Dean shook his head. “But hold on, Milligan. You’re going to be alright. We will get you out of here.”

    *

Dean blinks. 

He’s back. 

He’s still driving. A single tear streaks down his face and he jerks himself more awake from his daydream. His hand comes up to brush the tear away from his cheek.

Dean thinks about calling Charlie as he drives towards the bunker. He needs to make a pitstop and clean himself from the dirt of having killed a man, and needs to shower off the guilt. It usually doesn’t work. It never did. But at least there will be no blood of a dead man on any part of him or on his clothes left.

When he kills people, he doesn’t think about them as humans. He can’t let himself go there. Dean can’t say that he enjoys it either though, can’t say that he’s not dying a little on the inside every time he takes out someone. Even if they are the lowest sort of scumbags.

He never could take it lightly. 

Not when he was at war, where killing enemies was demanded from him.

Not now, when he does it to protect his business, his family, his pride.

He’ll never get used to it and honestly, he’d rather not do the dirty work but also he doesn’t want anyone to have to bear the burden. At least not someone he’s close to, like Cas or Sam. Cas did kill people for him, but mostly it was also for Cas himself. But Sam? Nah, Dean would rather die than let Sammy do that kind of dirty work. 

Sometimes, when he’s plagued by subsequent nightmares and has a hard time to even take his mind off them in the times he’s awake, Dean often finds himself asking if this was all worth it. If the life he chose to live was worth the effort, worth the sleepless nights, worth the sacrifices, the blood, the sweat and the tears.

But the answer was always yes . Because Sam’s in it. Because Sam’s gonna open up a law firm. Because Sam’s going to get out of this life. Because Sammy deserves everything good, even if it meant that Dean has to give everything he has in order for Sam to be happy. And Dean is ready to do that for Sammy, always had, always will.

And who knows? Maybe, if Dean’s lucky, his whole plan will work out after all.

He didn’t tell Sam yet — in fact, he didn’t tell anyone about his plan. Dean sometimes wishes for nothing more than to go legal. Maybe go into shipping and trading. Not narcotic substances, not illegal arms. Legal things, like a normal person, a normal business owner of a fucking family business. Do something he doesn’t have to break the law for. It’s just a dream, though. He knows that there’s no escape from reality. Not for someone in his position. Because who would he be then? They’d think that he’s weak. A wimp. A goddamn failure. Nobody walks out of here, especially not after what his father went through to keep the organization going and growing.

Before Dean went to Afghanistan, he actually quite enjoyed the life he had. Fast cars, frisky women, being respected. He had everything. He was cocky and narcissistic back then, thought that he could have it all and so much more. He signed up to be deployed because he thought that he has got something to prove. Proving to himself that nothing could bring him down. Proving to all the others, that he can come back unscattered and reign over them. He thought that once he’s back, people would respect him more because back then, they thought that he would never be able to take over. 

Life changed drastically after a couple of days at COP Keating. He was being the one to get shot at and not the other way around. He was the one to take orders and not the other way around. He didn’t get along with his mates, didn’t want to join in and distanced himself. He never really had any friends because they all thought that he was stuck up. They weren’t really wrong, he guesses. 

Dean never thought he’d get to come back with all his limbs still attached to him — let alone coming back alive.

War changed him. Changed his view of life and he often asked himself what he did it for, sometimes wished that he was the one dead and not his friends. But when he got out of the plane as they arrived back, he saw Sam waiting with a bright smile on his face and waving at him, Dean knew that he did it all for Sam. And yes, it was all worth it. Sam wailed like a baby when the President placed the medal around his neck, which Dean still thinks that he didn’t deserve at all. He just did his duty, really. 

So yeah, this life sucks you in and will spit you out when you’re dead. Sometimes the dead part happens sooner rather than later. You never know. 

Dean knows that he probably — most definitely — can’t win in this life. Maybe in the next. 

He dials Charlie’s number and waits.

Charlie picks up at the second ring. 

“Hey, my favorite Winchester,” She says and Dean smiles at the sound of Charlie’s voice. She’s always so cheerful.

“I bet you say that to Sammy, too.” Dean chuckles lightly.

“Me? Naaaah,” Charlie laughs now, loud and bright.

“I don’t believe you,” 

“Yeah, yeah. You saw it?” She’s changing the subject quickly, knowing that Dean called her up to ask about the things he asked her to pick up for him.

“I haven’t been to the bunker yet. Just wanna ask if you did get it.”

“Got everything. How did you get the shoe size?” 

“Ash,” Dean breathes out.

“Oh my god, I don’t even wanna know,” Charlie groans.

“Nope, I don’t wanna know either.” Dean feels second hand embarrassment when he thinks of it. Knowing Ash, he probably didn’t ask for it smoothly.

“Anyway, it’s in the bunker. Let me know if it fits.”

“I will. Thanks, Charlie.”

“You’re welcome, big guy.”

Dean hangs up and pushes his phone back into his pants pocket. He flips his wrist to be able to look at his watch. It’s not yet 10PM. If he hurries, he could make it there before her shift ends.

       Y/N taps a beer when strong hands grab at her arm and pull her away swiftly, but the pressure on her arm is still gentle, which is weird and she didn’t spill a single drop.

She turns to look who it is, thinks about throwing the beer in the face of whoever thought that pulling her away from her work would be such a good idea when she can club them over the head with a full pint.

Her eyes meet a chest. She looks up from the neat dress shirt, trails her eyes past the scruff, almost freezes at the plump lips that’s widened by a smirk, but she wills herself to go on because she has a great idea who it is. Her eyes meet his green ones and the crinkles around them are deep and — not going to lie —  mesmerizing.

“Hi,” It rumbles from his chest and she could literally feel the bass of his voice vibrating in her bones. It was loud in the bar but she could hear him clearly.

“Hi,” Y/N says, shy all of a sudden. Thinks that she’s blushing, but how could she not.

He leans down, the tip of his nose brushes against her temple and it makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up while goosebumps spread on her arm. “Think you can take a break?”

She looks at the line of people surrounding the bar, shakes her head no,  “I don’t think so,”

Dean chuckles before he produces a bag which he probably had hidden behind his back. Y/N doesn’t know, but she can’t explain how a bag materializes in front of him. “Don’t worry, me and Ash will take over. You go back and see if this is alright.”

“What?”

“You remember the opening party?” He raises an eyebrow, and she sees the doubt in his eyes.

She pretends to think hard, the creases on her forehead deepening. She let the clock tick, thinks of stretching the moment out, just for good measure, before she answers. “Yeah?”

He relaxes, and she thinks it’s funny how she could wind him up.

“It’s in two days. Got you something.”

“You did what? I didn’t even ask Ellen yet if I could get the night off,” Y/N begins to say, because it’s true. She didn’t expect it to be so soon. He just asked her what? Two days ago? And said that they’re still figuring out the date?

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll talk to Ellen.” He’s still holding out the bag for her to take. 

She looks at the people who are still waiting on being served. “But—”

“—Jesus, Y/N, just go, alright? I asked Ash. You can use his room.” He points his chin towards the back door and she sees Ash walking behind the bar too now, with a stupid grin on his face. 

“Oh, okay.” Y/N nods, and places the pint onto the counter top before taking the bag from Dean’s hand. Their fingers brush for a brief moment and there’s a flutter in her chest.

Damn her chest. It has no business to be fluttering right now.

She searches for Dean’s eyes before she goes, as if she needs reassurance. He winks at her as he takes off his suit jacket, folding the sleeves of his dress shirt back. “Go! Trust us. You can take your time.” 

Y/N can already see Ash taking orders before she nods again and slips through the door.

  *

 Y/N closes the door to Ash’s room. Locking it up, just in case. She takes a look around before she drops the bag on the floor and walks over to Ash’s laptop. She can’t make it too obvious, doesn’t want to try to type in a password, fearing Ash has some tracking device on his laptop and would notice someone logging in when he’s not around. 

She opts to take out her phone instead, taking pictures of Ash’s room, especially his desk, and of the many scribbles of loose sheets of paper scattered around. That way she won’t be gone too long too, and she won’t raise any suspicions. It’s not her job to decipher or to dig too deep anyway, they have great people in the bureau. Her job is to deliver new intel while their job is to dig deeper from the bits and pieces she sends them.

After she’s done her other ‘work’, she takes the bag and peeks in. There are two more bags in the big one and she reaches for the first one. She takes it out and smiles when she sees what it is. 

Y/N takes the item out and holds it up in front of her. It’s a red sleeveless couture cocktail dress, with mesh worked into it, a little see through but covered by red flower patterns. She holds it to her chest, and walks to the mirror, lets her hand skim over the fabric. She’s never seen a dress more beautiful and that’s not even a lie.

It’s red. Red. Y/N never wore red. Doesn’t think that red suits her at all. Red is for someone who likes to make a bold statement. Someone who likes to be noticed and seen and if anything, she’s the contrary. In fact, she doesn’t own a piece of clothing in red. She always opted for black, grey, white or navy, something not eye catching. She never felt comfortable being the center of attention.

She smiles to herself through the mirror because she never knew that red would suit her. Nonetheless, she can’t help but wonder how expensive the dress must be. She probably wouldn’t be able to afford it. What the fuck was Dean thinking? She can’t possibly take the dress. Can’t possibly wear it because it’s out of her fucking league. 

There’s a note fluttering to the floor. It probably was laid out on the dress and she missed it as she took it out.

Y/N bends down to pick it up. 

“I hope it fits. I thought red would look great on you. There are some shoes at the bottom of the bag. If you feel confident enough you could let me see? If not, it’s okay too. — Dean”

She bites on her bottom lip before they spread into a grin. 

Y/N shimmies herself out of her jeans and takes off her shirt. The bra too, since it’s see through. She needs to find some nude strapless bra, makes a mental note to go shopping tomorrow before she meets with Linda. 

She’s glad she shaved her legs today, that would have been really embarrassing. Not that she should care. Or should she?

She really doesn’t know but decides not to dwell on that super weird feeling in her guts. Instead, she laughs to herself as she pulls the dress over her head and looks into her mirror image. 

Wow.

She rubs along the dress, flattens it on her body, still mesmerized and amazed at how great and beautiful it feels on her skin. 

It fits her like a glove. How could he know her size? 

She stands on her tiptoes, twists and turns, inspecting herself from every possible angle. 

Shoes. The notes said something about shoes , she thinks and takes a couple of steps to reach into the bag. Y/N pulls out the other bag and opens up the box.

Red heels, the same color as her dress. Not just a similar color. The exact fucking same. 

How?

She places one hand on the desk to keep her balance as she slips into the heels. Her legs feel wobbly in them, she rarely wears heels and these are super high.

Y/N takes a step closer to the mirror, turning herself in front of it. She bites on her bottom lip, suddenly very anxious of wearing it anywhere at all. 

She takes a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. 

In and out. 

In and out.

“Okay,” she sighs, “okay.” 

It’s more a way to reassure herself because Dean asked if he could see it, and a part of her really wants to show him. It's just that the part that doesn’t want to show him really, really needs convincing. 

She closes her eyes, her heart beating fast at the thought of walking out into the bar.

“Here goes nothing,” She murmurs and unlocks the door to Ash’s room.

   Dean’s having a conversation going on with one of the patrons and pours himself another whiskey, laughing when the dude told him something funny. He didn’t even notice that the bar went silent, only notices it when all he could hear is some murmuring and his own laughter next to the usual songs playing in the background from the jukebox, and there’s someone whistling.

He looks around, wondering what’s going on and then he sees it.

He sees her.

Standing by the door, the red dress clings to her frame and Dean’s speechless for a moment. 

The prettiest fucking thing he ever did see. There’s no other way to describe her.

Not that he didn’t think that she wasn’t cute before but Jesus, she’s beautiful and it’s a pity she doesn’t even know how lovely she is.

She looks around, all flustered and shy like a deer caught in the headlight and Dean almost feels guilty for wanting to have a taste of it. Almost feels guilty for wanting to corrupt her, wanting to feel her legs wrap around him, wants to fucking mark her as his, wonders sometimes, if she blushes as sweetly when he eats her out and makes her come on his cock alone.

Someone was yelling from the back, “Hey, baby, you wanna take a ride—”

“—Shut up!” Dean’s deep voice cuts the dude off and he throws in a malicious look, for good measure.

The one guy at the bar is still whistling and then he licks his lips, “Baby, are you a drill sergeant? Because you have my privates standing at attention.”

The bar erupts with laughter and she looks down to her shoes.

Dean didn’t hesitate to drive his fist into the man’s face. He hears a crack, grins because the dude deserved it. 

“Anyone else?” Dean asks and looks around the room before he turns his attention to her.

He walks over, sees her blushing a little, “Come on, let’s go to the back.”

The guy who’s standing next to her opens his mouth to say something. Dean thinks the guy probably has a death wish or way too much to drink because he doesn’t know when to stop, “Those clothes would look great in a crumpled heap on my bedroom floor, baby.”

Dean’s about to strike out when she places her hand on his arm. 

“I got this.” She whispers with a smirk and then she does. Y/N takes a step towards the guy and drives her elbow into the man’s jaw.

The guy drops to the floor, wincing and spitting blood. 

“Anybody else wants to try their pick up line on me?” She asks the now silent bar and Dean has a really hard time to hold back the laugh that wants to burst out of him. 

“No? Good. Because they all suck.” She says and just stands there and waits and Dean thinks she’s ready for anyone who would want to come forward with a stupid remark. When the bar stays silent, she turns around and storms through the door in the back.

Dean only shrugs at the people who were still speechless, before he follows her.

“Winchester’s whipped.” Ash could be heard under his breath before the door closes completely.

“I heard that.” Dean shouts back.

“Good.” Came loudly from the other side, followed by laughter. 

Normally, Dean would go out there and probably rip Ash a new hole but she’s walking swiftly down the corridor and he follows, almost bumping into her when she turns around abruptly to face him, her hands are braced on her hips.

“How much was all this?” Y/N asks, gestures with her hands up and down her body.

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“No, really, Dean. How much? I’ll pay you back.” She says, and Dean knows that she means it. Had known from the start when she wouldn’t even take the tip he wanted to leave for her.

“I don’t know.” Dean says and it’s the truth. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Her forehead creases. 

“I really don’t know, alright?” Dean chuckles, brushing a hand through the scruff on his jaw. “I just went into the store and told them what I want. They said they needed time to get the right shoes and I had someone pick it up for me. I never asked how much it was, because I didn’t really care!” He runs his hand through his hair.

Dean sees her face softening, there’s even a smirk that’s tugging away at her lips. 

“You actually went into a store for this?” She’s grinning now and Dean thinks it’s fucking adorable.

“Yeah?” 

“You went into a store.” Y/N’s chuckling, “A women’s store. And bought a dress?” 

“Yes?” His eyebrow raises on his forehead.

She laughs. Loud, clear. It’s a beautiful sound.

“Were you embarrassed?”

“Uh,” He’s laughing too, tries to search for the right word, “It was awkward. But it was worth it. You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks.” Her face flushes, and she quickly turns away. “Alright, I guess it fits. Do I look decent enough for you to take me to the opening like this?”

She walks the couple of steps to Ash’s room, stalling at the door and turns to look back to him.

“I’d take you anywhere, Y/N. Even if you’re dressed in your normal clothes, or a trash bag.” He says truthfully, and now it’s his turn to feel his cheeks heating up. 

He doesn’t know why he said it. Doesn’t really know what’s up with him because he feels like he just poured his heart out to her by saying it. Thinks, that if she knew who he really was, how he really was, she wouldn’t let him take her anywhere at all, and he wouldn’t blame her one bit.

“Not— not saying that you’re a bag of trash or anything,” He squints because he’s an idiot and would love to smash his head against the wall right now. Dean clears his throat, “Alright, I need to go help Ash. You take your time.”

“Alright.” She smiles and takes a step into Ash’s room, stops to look back at him. “Thank you, Dean.”

He nods and smiles back, bright and wide, before he turns around and walks through the door to the front.

CH06

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 9a

Warning, if it hasn’t been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

Originally posted on my Ao3 Crystallclover (If you can’t find it here)

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7a | 7b | 8 | 9b

I really enjoy everyone’s feedback. It makes my day to know you all are enjoying this story so far. There is still a lot planned for the future. I said this is slow-burn, it is don’t worry. Let me know what you think in the comments.

Chapter 9: Packing Up

Summary: “Your theory about possibly being matched with aliens? Well, he isn’t exactly an alien, he is a part of the First Order. When they found out who I was matched to I was immediately escorted here.”

_______________________________________________________________________

You were alone for a moment, you swore you could almost hear Kylo talking to the general on the other side of the door. He sounded harsh. You hear his footsteps walk further down the hall.

The door opens and the general walks in with the tree junior officers trailing him. He stepped back and let the junior officers quickly clean up your and Kylo’s lunch. “The Supreme Leader has made me in charge of your safety. He also said I am to take you where ever you would like to go.”

You nodded. Just now you realized you never messaged Hayden or Carter that you had been escorted, in fact, you had yet to check your phone.

You pulled it out of your back pocket and saw that you had 30 messages from Carter and Hayden and 15 missed calls. They were all asking where you were, if something happened, if you were all right and if you were being interrogated.

You decided to call Carter. “Excuse me, General, I need to make a phone call.”

He nodded and stepped out of the room leaving you alone. You dialed Carter’s phone number, it rang twice before they picked up.

“Oh my god Y/N! Are you all alright? We have been trying to get a hold of you for hours now,” their voice was laced heavily with concern.

“I know. I’m alright, everything is fine. Actually, it’s better than fine, but I don’t know if this is how I want to explain it. I’m safe, I’m in Washington D.C.”

“Wait I’ll put you on speaker. You will explain everything,” you heard Carter switch the phone to speaker. And heard Hayden clear his throat.

“Hayden, you were right,” you said with a light chuckle.

“Sweet! Wait right about what,” he asked not remembering.

“Your theory about possibly being matched with aliens? Well, he isn’t exactly an alien, he is a part of the First Order. When they found out who I was matched to I was immediately escorted here,” you paused second guessing if you should reveal who Kylo is. “He is a high ranking officer, so it looks like I’ll be joining them.”

“Wow, Y/N we are so happy for you. I’m guessing you’ll probably leave when they do. Are you coming home tonight?” Asked Carter.

“He said I’ll be joining him on the ship tonight and that I will be able to come back down tomorrow,” You glanced at your watch. 3:30 PM, the suttle ride itself only took an hour and a half to get you from Toronto to D.C. You should have enough time to go back grab some things and be back in time for the nightly public First Order address. “I know you guys have more questions but I have to go.”

“Bye, be safe my dude,” said Hayden.

“You know we love you and want you to be happy, just call us when you can,” said Carter.

“I know and I love you guys too,” and with that, you said your goodbyes and you ended the call.

Unsure of what to do you walked over to the door opened it and stuck your head out. You could see the general down the hallway talking to some other First Order officers and people whom you assumed to be White House staff. You called to him, “General?”

He turned and started walking towards you. You now exited the room. “Yes,” he asked.

“Your orders were to take me anywhere that I would like to go, correct,” you asked.

“Correct, I am assuming you have made a choice,” he responded.

“I was wondering if I could take a shuttle back to Toronto to gather some of my things? I’m hoping to return before the nightly public address.”

“That can be arranged,” with that he looked over his shoulder to one of the junior officers who left immediately to make the arrangement. “Of course because I have been tasked personally with your safety I will have to escort you.” And with that, the junior was back and informed the general that there was a shuttle ready. He nodded and they excused themselves. He gestured for you to once again follow him and you were off to the shuttle.

You exited the White House and were once again aboard the shuttle, “This is a Xi-class light shuttle. It is mostly used for ferrying on planet surfaces and transporting freight. Not, that I expect that you will remember this right now, but if you are to be Supreme Leader’s consort then you will be expected to know these things.”

You looked at the general slightly shocked. This wasn’t something you had thought deeply about. You were now about to literally give up your whole, albeit boring, life for a man who was in charge of a military regime. You didn’t want to be in the spotlight. You just wanted to be loved and to love.

Both of you buckled in facing each other, “Would you like me to prepare some education videos for you? You have much more to learn than the average First Order planet citizen,” he said while working on a datapad.

You just nodded your head and he handed one to you, “This video is outdated but contains lots of good information and background knowledge for you,” responded the general.

He pulled up a video titled “First Order” by The Templin Institute. This one was much shorter and was just under ten minutes. This video gave you an idea as to who the man Kylo killed in order to receive the Supreme Leader position. It also gave you more information as to how the First Order came to be. When you glanced up after finishing the video the general used his datapad to send you another.

This time it was a speech given by the general himself from Starkiller base, “The First Order: Last day fo the Republic.” The video was intimidatingly impressive, it was similar to the speech he gave yesterday, but this time it caused the destruction of an entire star system, the New Republic’s capital.

“What did you think,” he asks as you can see the smug look on his face.

“It was intimidatingly impressive. An entire system gone in a matter of minutes.”

He was pleased with your answer as he sent you a news release from the First Order. “The Voice of the First Order: Issue 23.” Ironically the first one being about propaganda, avoiding Resistance and the New Republic propaganda and where a First Order citizen my uncover the truth.

Lastly, he sent you a bunch of articles talking about the different transport ships that were standard issue within the First Order.

The pilot spoke to the general informing him of the arrival back at the registration station. You handed the general back the data pad. You both unbuckled and stood to exit the shuttle.

“General, if you don’t mind I need to take my car back to my apartment to get my things,” you said to him.

“Yes, one of the ancient wheeled vehicles. I suppose we will have to return it. How many passengers can you fit,” he asked almost disgusted by the idea of having to ride in a car.

“Not including the driver I can technically seat 4, but only three comfortably as it is a sedan,” you replied.

“This will probably be the only time you will be allowed to drive one of those death machines again, but we will take three troopers with us for protection,” he said. And the thought of never driving again made you sad and curious as to see what freedoms you would be allowed. The general ordered three troopers to escort you two your car. “We will have the shuttle pick us up from your apartment to make things easier upon departure.”

With that, you got into your car. The general still seemed to be disgusted with it, even though it was clean. The three troopers struggled to sit in the back as they were too large for the seat. Once everyone was settled and buckled you were on your way to your apartment. It was not a long drive and for once all of the lights were green when you got to them.

Parking in your ramp you all got out of your car and approached your building's elevator. The troopers were making sweeps of the area and the general followed confidently behind them and all of them behind you. The elevator ride is awkward, even more so than the car ride. You reach your floor and you unlock your do, but be for you enter one of the stormtroopers moves you out of the way. They enter and sweep your tiny apartment.

You moved to follow them in as did the general. “I thought the people of your planet were supposed to have large dwellings,” he said commenting on your small apartment.

This made you a bit ticked off, and the fact that they were all wearing shoes inside and tracking dirt in. “Why would I need a larger apartment when I live alone?”

The general just hummed in response. You went to your closet and gathered your duffle bag and your backpack. You began packing all of your clothes and your toiletries knowing this could be one of the last times you would be back at your apartment. Packing didn’t take very long. You grabbed your work tote and filled it with your laptop, planner, notebooks, and chargers. You also grabbed your favorite coffee to-go cup and water bottle. It only took about 15 minutes to pack everything. “Is there anything I can get you? I have water, tea, coffee, and various fruit and snacks.”

The general shook his head in response and the troopers gave no sign of acknowledgment. And with that, your life was packed and ready to be moved again.

“This is everything I need, we should be able to go now.”

The general nodded to the troopers and you made your way down to the main entrance of your apartment building. Once again you boarded the shuttle.

[craftypeaceturtle]

My True Identity

Summary: Thomas has started university. His lessons haven’t started yet but he agreed to help out and do a YouTube channel about the student experience. And like the true student, he’s already having an identity crisis. 

Note: Not written to be overly shippy but read either way! This series is a little weird, no idea if it’ll translate well. The idea is just Sanders Sides retold. Feedback would be GREATLY appreciated!

Next Episode!

.

The kitchen was silent. Thomas was completely engulfed in darkness with only the faint glow from the streetlights outside. The floors were already speckled with dirt and the hob was decorated in fine splatters, he noted already knowing he couldn’t be bothered to clean it. They had only all moved in a week ago! But then again four teenagers trying to live independently would always be messy. He groaned loudly before burying his head in his arms. “Oh woah! Oh, Thomas! What are you doing!” Logan’s voice interrupted the stressed silence. 

“Hey...” Thomas muttered back and, without looking, wiggled his laptop mousepad. The screen blasted a harsh blue light against his defeated lump sitting on top of the kitchen stall. Logan paused at the door before actually walking up to him.

“That does not answer my question,” Logan sighed as he leaned against the work surface. Their quest for a glass of water for bed promptly forgotten. 

“I have no idea who I even am...” 

“Yes. Not many people do. The concept of identity is an ongoing struggle. To expect you to have all the answers at the age of 18 for the rest of your life is ridiculous.” They answered with a quiet smile, their shoulders drooped with tiredness but they already knew they were going to do whatever it takes to Thomas through this, “Why, can I ask, is this bothering you?” 

“This stupid YouTube thing I said I’d do,” Thomas actually sat up and explained once he saw Logan’s confusion, “The uni encourages students to creatively express their experience here and essentially promote the university by doing YouTube videos. I thought ‘hey that sounds fun’ and here I am! God, I don’t even know! I thought it’d be a fun idea to do a video about who I am and why I wanted to go to uni. And now I realise I’m not even sure I have a personality.”

“Ah. Well I’d love to help you. That’s a complicated topic when you truly delve into it and well... Believe it or not, I was quite the nerd in school and it’d be fun to help!” Logan smiled and sat themself next to Thomas’ dramatic form. 

“I’m sure that’s a surprise to no one,” Thomas muttered, sounding more harsh than he wanted to. But they were both too tired to really mention it. As he untangled himself and actually sat properly, another of his roommates burst through the kitchen door. 

“Greetings wonderful citizens and you nerds!” Roman winked as he fingergunned Logan, to their immense confusion.

Despite how open and chatty Roman was, they were all still fairly new to each other and some awkward tension flooded the kitchen as well. Already Thomas felt a little squirmy at Logan helping him but this was so much more embarrassing with the actual stereotypical jock flouncing around the kitchen. Not that Roman was bad or anything! Just... Thomas was a true introvert at heart. 

“Hi!” Logan squeaked while Thomas gave a weak salute.

“Now what are we muttering about at 1 in the morning! You’re disturbing my beauty sleep!”

“Oh sorry! We were um... it’s just the YouTube thing again... It’s not important, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey it’s okay! We’re students, what makes you think I was getting any sleep anyway!” 

“Well that just seems unhealthy, why would you del-”

“What’s going on kiddos!” Patton smiled with a giggle as he rose up from the other side of the table. Now, Logan and Roman positively shrieked while Thomas totally remained totally calm thank you very much. Patton was the only one that he had properly warmed up to. The kiddo thing got annoying but he knew that Patton didn’t mean it insultingly. He was the first to move in and so the first one to meet him. He immediately helped him unpack and sat with him when his parents finally left. While he wasn’t sure they had any real shared interest, Thomas was already clinging on to Patton. 

“I’m just trying to get a video done! It’s just a general about me thing and why I chose uni. I just need to have a sit down with myself, figure myself out and maybe come to a better understanding that we could all learn from,” Thomas said strongly, puffing out his chest with a plastic smile. 

“Well maybe they would know you if you’d post YouTube videos more often,” Roman snickered while Patton whooped, Thomas deflated with an embarrassed smile. 

“Hey I have posted! I’ve got two videos so far! That’s not bad for something I only started like two weeks ago.”

“Yeah but you’ve been stressing about it for every second of those two weeks. Plus, people don’t watch uni channels for the person. They just want to avoid going to the open days and find out about the campus,” Roman said while Logan frowned. 

“Wait, if all you’re looking to answer is general information about yourself then that’s easy! You just start with the basics. Introduce yourself,” Logan prompted.

“Well... I am Thomas Sanders. I go by he/him pronouns and am proudly gay. I’m taking English literature...” He trailed off. Feeling that same sense of dread and nothing slowly grip him again. Great, met these roommates only a week ago and he’s having a breakdown in front of them. 

“That’s a promising start! Topics like gender and romance can be a challenge in of themselves to figure out. You could try and answer some light hearted meaningless questions as well. Like... um, something like what’s your greatest fears?” Logan smiled as he twiddled his hands. 

“Oh! Rejection!” Roman gasped and clutched his chest while slowly sinking to his knees. 

“Spiders!” Patton shuddered.

“I always get nervous about the idea of what exactly is at the bottom of the ocean...” 

“Nope! Not doing that! I’m perfectly aware of my greatest fears. I know that’s fun and all, but I want to keep it fairly serious. Like, what are my flaws?” Thomas shrugged them all off, his shoulders tensing again. 

Logan now lit up completely. Pulling a notepad from nowhere (his pyjamas?), he flipped to a previous scribbled page and pointed out a checklist with a pen. “Oh we’re talking flaws. Well, I’ve noticed you procrastinate a lot! I mean, it’s only your first week... Lectures haven’t even started and you’re already behind. I mean why else would you be planning a video at one in the morning!” Logan panted as they spoke all in one breath but the determined shine in their eye refused to let them go without saying this. 

“Do you just... list all our flaws like that... or...” Roman mumbled.

“You can be pretty selfish with your food...” Patton looked away but his mischievous smile remained firm. 

“Really Patton? I’m like 90% sure that milk was expired!” Thomas huffed and threw his head back, his already scruffy hair whipping wildly. 

“Didn’t stop you from drinking from it...” Patton muttered again with his hands held out. As if Thomas couldn’t be sucking any more at university, it was only his first week and lessons hadn’t started yet! But here he was with flatmate drama, a breakdown at 1 in the morning and a growingly filthy flat. 

“You aren’t very adventurous either...” Roman interrupted before any room mate war was launched. He was hoping to at least get past the month mark before any wars. Not that that was saying much for him. 

“Okay, maybe this was a bad idea!” Thomas sighed and slumped back into his ball on top of the kitchen stall. Legs drawn up to his chest and head buried firmly. 

At that, all of the roommates froze. The kitchen seemed so much harsher without any of its lights on. If someone had closed the curtains then the only light would be the oven timer that was flashing the wrong time. They could all hear the faint slamming of doors and whoops from students outside. All of which were actually enjoying their fresher’s week and having fun outside. Patton felt a little mean for joking so much with him. Thomas was still a very new friend and he just criticised him when he clearly wasn’t doing good. Roman looked awkwardly around before busying himself by going to make toast while Logan kept fiddling away. Patton wished, not for the first time, that his parents were here. 

“Well, everyone has flaws. That’s what makes us human,” Patton smiled, hoping his tone made up for the weak childish message. 

“Of course. As long as you’re aware of them and working through them, then I’d even say that flaws are what keeps us improving and doing our best,” Logan happily took over. 

“Yeah! Plus, you have a lot of good in you.” 

“You value your friends above all else,” Roman butted in. It was awkward, but the eye contact and his gentle tone did a lot. Thomas found himself smiling on instinct. 

“You see the good in everyone!” Patton chirped, seemingly bursting from happiness before sending an expecting glance at Logan. Not that they needed it.

“You’re extremely passionate and stick through every project. I mean, look at this YouTube channel. You’ve committed to a project that you understood is difficult. You’re still powering through despite the adversity.”

“Well, that’s very nice, you guys,” Thomas replied, eyeing the clock as it ticked to half past. 

Thomas heaved a deep breath. The blank word document no longer seemed as intimidating but he could feel his standards tutting at the weak script he was thinking through. Yeah, this was all good stuff to talk about but how on earth was this going to connect with people. How was this going to even connect to university? 

“Oh but you should also talk more about why you are filming for the channel!” Patton squeaked, Thomas uncurled and looked on with a sceptical look, “I’m guessing you want this to be a bit more than an intro video. If you talk about why you’re running the channel then people will understand you and your content a lot better. Like, what positive impact did you hope to inevitably bring with this channel?” 

“Woah... Patton that was genuinely deep and exactly what I was lo-”

“Hey! We have the same glasses!” Patton suddenly lurched forward, pointing an accusing finger. Logan blinked sleepily.

“Yep...” 

“Okay well,” Thomas cleared his throat, “Being able to put out silly light hearted content into the world is kind of a good start, it makes me really happy to do that!” 

“Wait! This is supposed to be happy!” Roman gasped with the bread popping from the toaster soon after. Thomas wilted again under his withering gaze. 

“Just because the topic is serious, doesn’t mean the video has to be serious. I think I would’ve liked to watch a light hearted joking channel when I was looking at unis. Identity is a serious topic but I want to joke about it,” Thomas explained to the table, slowly drawing out of the crumbs a smiley face. Roman melted and turned back to his toast. 

“That’s easy! You don’t even need answers to make that video then. No one watching your videos knows who they are and if you’re making fun of yourself for not knowing, it shows that it’s kinda okay. Y’know to be unsure and stuff.”

“Self deprecating humour is very popular at the moment,” Logan reported. 

“Just as long as you don’t go too far with it! Make sure to keep it light hearted!” 

“Yeah...” Thomas had immediately perked up and starting clicking away at the keys. 

They all sat there for a couple of minutes. All of them taking pride in how quickly Thomas pulled himself together again. The words quickly filled the screen and Roman finally clicked on the light, despite all of them hissing tiredly. 

“See, you’ve got this,” Patton smiled once Thomas took another careful to pause to proof read. “You may not entirely know yourself yet but that’s okay. You know who you are at this moment, even if you just know you’re confused.”

“Yeah, I guess I do know myself better than I think,” Thomas laughed off. 

“Right, Tony?” Patton gasped with Roman and Logan whipping round. 

“Not my name.” Thomas didn’t flinch.

“Then what is it!” Patton collapsed on top of the table with a gritted guilt expression. 

“Thomas! I said it earlier in this conversation!” 

“It’s really late!” Patton winced, feeling extra guilty. 

“He does have a decent point, at the very least, I am going to sleep. Please try not to make much noise,” Logan waved before disappearing from the kitchen. 

Patton joined them shortly after while Roman and Thomas talked quietly. The project also sinking into his mind before he even realised. And now he has to make sure that Thomas even knows about proper lighting and ideal times of the day to record himself! Roman was already stealing his laptop to make amendments to the script while Thomas awkwardly laughed it off. 

[poptod]

The One Time Debt was Good (Elliot Alderson x Reader)

Request: Hi there could you do an Elliot x reader where the reader gets liked fucked up or something and Elliot helping her clean up the cuts and blood and stuff (ok thanks bye have a nice day 💓)

Took me a bit but I finally finished it. I made it gender neutral bc that shit fucks. also, there’s a small paragraph of graphic injury description. part 2

He’d warned you about this, you knew that, and you knew you should’ve listened. He hardly ever warns you against anything, hardly ever tries to stop you from hurting yourself, so when for once he told you not to do something, of course you had to ignore his advice. The one time he tries to care about you, and you have to ignore it.

To be fair, with or without his input it was a bad idea. Mosh pits aren’t exactly the safest place, not for someone like you at least, especially metal mosh pits. You hadn’t expected this in any future vision, though; your clothes are almost completely torn off of you, shreds just barely covering your bruised, blood-drenched skin. Thankfully most of it wasn’t your blood - a fight broke out and you were pushed straight into the middle of it, so a good amount of it probably belonged to the very people who beat you to a pulp.

Your first thought, practically crawling out of the concert, was I should probably go to the hospital. A perfectly rational thought and a good idea, but you then remembered you’re still in debt from the last time you were at the hospital, and that was three years ago. Fortunately for you and unfortunately for Elliot (you assume, you don’t think he likes you very much) his apartment was closest to you, so gathering your shreds of humanity and the fifty-two cents in your pocket, you made your way to him.

Several people stared at you, several didn’t, and by the time you were knocking at his door you felt a little faint. Leaning on the wall, you barely raise your knuckles to rap at the door and within a few seconds you can hear his footsteps. A sigh leaves you, relaxed and anxious all at once - he’s comforting, at least he is to you, but again, he doesn’t like you very much.

Slowly the door creaks open, though it takes him a moment before he looks to his left to find you breathing heavy against the wall, dry blood flaking off your skin and sticking to the wall. He doesn’t say anything, of course he doesn’t, but he opens the door a little, and you walk in with a tiny ‘thank you.’

“I’m really sorry about this,” you manage to get out, your throat dry and horribly sore from screaming. “I would’ve gone to the hospital, but… you know. Can’t really afford that.” Vaguely he nods, not meeting your eye as you ask to use the shower. With his permission granted you wash the blood off yourself, the dirt and grime, noticing the splotches of red, yellow, and blue that are the permanent reminders of the night. The bruises practically coat your ribs - when you press down on them it hurts so badly you wonder if you broke something.

When you get out you hesitate to redress yourself, considering your clothes are still grimy and bloodied, but before you can even make a decision on what to do the bathroom door opens just a crack. One hand carrying a stack of clothes sneaks in, placing the clothes on the counter before quickly retreating behind the closing door.

This is exactly why I’ve got the stupidest crush in the universe, you think, groaning internally at yourself. These little moments, rare and far between, moments where he does something purely human, keep you around him. Grabbing the clothes, you pause for a moment, taking in the scent and softness before dressing yourself. There isn’t any underwear, which you should’ve expected, and any sane person would probably just wear their own underwear, but instead you go commando. In the foggy mirror you examine yourself in the baggy sweatshirt and pants, wondering how to go about thanking him.

Surprisingly, you have even less time to think about it than you thought, since as soon as you open the door he’s standing there. For a while he just stares at you, and you stare back, confused as to what he’s trying to achieve. Finally he opens his mouth, hesitant to speak but he eventually does.

“You’ve… got a thing.. down your back,” he says, which is confusing in itself. With a furrowed brow you walk back into the bathroom, taking the sweatshirt off and trying to look at your back in the mirror. Sure enough, there’s a massive cut down your spine, and it’s still bleeding a bit - it’s astounding you haven’t noticed it yet, considering just the sight of it makes you sick.

“Oh dear god,” you say, feeling the acidic burn in the back of your throat grow worse.

“Here,” he mumbles, managing to maneuver you while barely touching you so your face is to the mirror. “I can stitch you.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you say quickly, your heart racing at the thought of stitches. You’ve gotten them before, but that was with an anesthetic, not straight out. In fear you whip around, hoping that’ll keep him and his needle away from your skin, but now you’re face to face with him and suddenly the needle seems friendlier. Your breath catches in time with his, the both of you frozen in the moment as you both try to decipher what’s happening. He stammers when he gains control of his body again, stepping back so his back is against the wall and he’s as far from you as possible.

“I have vodka,” he says, “if that’d make you feel better.”

“Yeah, that actually would,” you say with a sigh, relieved to be able to catch yourself as he leaves the bathroom. He returns a minute or so later, trying desperately not to stare at your naked torso. He unscrews the cap, and after you take a few gulps of the drink (which does nothing for your sore throat), he pours a little down into your cut. You wince, your grip on the sink tighter than your clenched teeth, a headache sprouting from the tension in your jaw.

“Ready?” He asks, looking at you over your shoulder through the mirror. You nod - you’re not going to get much more ready, so you might as well get it over with.

As the needle prods at your skin, poking into your flesh and sprouting little droplets of blood, you try not to think on the sensation. You try to think of anything, anything besides the cool metal pulling string through your back and tugging at your skin. Instead you focus on him, on his concentrated face; he’s biting at his cheek, his mouth opening to talk to himself in words you can’t hear.

It takes a shorter amount of time than you thought it did. The pain is now aching, spreading up your spine and into your head and down through your legs.

“I guess my skin must’ve snagged on someone’s spikes,” you groan hoarsely when he finishes up, tugging at your ripped skin as he tries to knot the string in place.

“I told you not to go,” he says, low and quiet, still not meeting your eye.

“Doesn’t matter now,” you say with a sigh, rubbing your side with your hand to massage the pain out, though it does very little. When you turn around he glances up at you, sparing just a second to watch you before leaving the bathroom.

Rubbing your face wearily you follow, your steps careful and slow as you try to put the sweatshirt back on. It proves a lot more difficult, what with the string preventing your skin from stretching, but you manage to get it on eventually. He’s in his kitchen filling a glass with water when you enter, and as usual he can’t stand to look at you.

“Thanks for patching me up, by the way,” you mumble, leaning against the counter with your hands gripping it tight, still trying to ignore the pain in your back and ache of your bruised legs and arms. He sets the glass down, and for a moment it looks as if he’s going to ignore you as usual, but he turns to you with pursed lips.

“Why do you do stuff that you know is going to hurt you?”

Your eyes widen at his straightforwardness, stuttering as you try to come up with a plausible answer. The only problem is you never even realized you do that, you never thought you were looking for pain, but when you look back at your past decisions it seems obvious. How long as he been putting up with your masochistic tendencies?

“I… I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I never realized that I do that.”

Your thoughts go back to when you were little - in your teenage years you had a history of self harm, but you never thought of it as a hatred thing. It was just another way to feel pain, another way to feel real in a world where so much is faux. The memory of a razor cutting your skin to shreds just to watch your blood drip freely from your hips and arms makes you curl in on yourself, something that Elliot notices.

“I think I need to sit down,” you say, your voice cracking with the lightheaded feeling swirling around you. He lets you sit on the couch before he speaks again, sitting on the couch with you but as far from you as he can.

“Take my advice, next time,” he tells you, crossing his legs.

“And for now?”

He doesn’t answer. The TV buzzes in your background as exhaustion takes its’ toll on you, the fight, the walk, and the cleaning up tiring every bone in your body. It doesn’t take long at all until you’re lying down, your eyes closed as you can’t bear to keep them open. You’re still conscious, still listening to the dialogue of a show you’ve never watched before and the typing on Elliot’s laptop. It’s not long at all till the typing stops, and he sets his computer down on the ground as quietly as possible. With the shuffling of clothes and footsteps, you hear him come closer, and the cushion your legs are resting on dips down.

A thousand thoughts run through your head, a hundred theories and at least fifty conspiracies tackle what in the world Elliot could be doing, but none of them lead to a satisfying answer. Then he’s touching you, something he never does, not unless he absolutely has to - and it’s surprisingly affectionate. You’re barely able to keep your breath under control as he brushes your hair back, fingers just barely skimming across from your temple to behind your ear. Clothes rustle again, and you can feel his heat right up against your cheek. Every single one of your thoughts is now focused on one thing: stay absolutely still.

Somehow you manage to do it, somehow you’re still breathing even with closed eyes, though you have no idea if there’s a prominent blush on your cheeks. You’d guess yes but he still hasn’t moved; he sounds like he’s muttering something, but even right next to your ear, the heat of his speech brushing your skin, you can’t pick out what exactly he’s saying.

He’s so close, so unbearably close that you can’t decipher just when his lips touch you - he’s been hovering over your temple so long that the difference between his heat and touch is thin. Sometime in there you realize he’s kissing you, one long, sweet kiss on your temple, and suddenly the entirety of the evening is something you know you’ll never forget.

The cushion resumes its’ given position as he stands, and the rustling of his clothes combined with the absence of his heat tells you he’s gone. With a buzz and a click, the hum of the television goes out, and Elliot retreats to his bedroom.

You fall asleep soon after, your dreams more pleasant than ever with the new revelation.

[silkkpopbonnet]

Second Chance Sanctuary

It has been updated! Y/N now has a name...among other clarifying actions..

Ariana Waters had been alone most of her life. It wasn't that her mother didn't love her, she just worked a lot. Her father? Who knows where he was, and if she ever asked her mother about him she'd get a side eye and an angry grunt.

Growing up in Brooklyn, Ariana was a tough kid with a sweet inside. She knew how to take charge and stand up for herself, but she was easily amused and always had a smile on her face. Life was ok, and she was fine with that.

Her mother was a nurse so she worked long nights, and when she finally did come home, she'd cook enough meals for a few days and sleep for hours on end.

"Ari, how's school going?" Her mother would kiss her forehead, smoothing back her blown out natural hair.

"Good mama, just finishing a paper now." Furiously typing on the laptop her mother had saved for months to get her.

"That's my girl." Her mother would linger a bit and ask about friends and any social events. Once exhaustion kicked in she would disappear into her room and Ariana would quiet her tapping fingers as to not disturb her mother.

Then her mother met JinWoo Park, a doctor that came to New York on a special request from the hospital. He was a top surgeon in Korea, and some high profile patient needed his expertise. He fell in love with her mother, and the next thing Ariana knew she was flying to Korea in her junior year of high school, from Brooklyn to Seoul, South Korea with her mother and new step-father.

South Korea was...different. She was now in an international school, so sure the language barrier wasn't so much of an issue, but there were also more...hybrids here.

There weren't too many hybrids in New York. At least, not in Brooklyn, sure she had seen some in Manhattan, but here hybrids were a normal part of life. The idea that she would think that made her feel silly, they originated in this part of the world. Cloning science combined animal and human DNA to create the perfect soldiers, service companions and guards.

Cats and dogs seemed to be the only mixes that were around so far. The first time she saw a hybrid up close, she was in the airport. A Beagle/Human was walking around sniffing luggage coming in from overseas. His floppy brown ears, hung low on his head, brown colored nose moving eagerly along the suitcases.

He seemed to feel someone staring at him, as he turned around and looked at her, she went wide-eyed unable to do anything but stare. He'd smiled at her, winking before going back to his work, his long white-tipped tail wagging anxiously.

The second time, she had been following her mother as she walked down a street in Gangnam when she spotted a woman with a young man whose long, fluffy white tail was twitching as he stared at birds on the patio. His green eyes flicked right to left, while the woman spoke to a friend, his hand sneakily trying to reach out and grab the bird.

"DaeSuk...if you even think about it..." She let her words linger, as the male turned his delicate triangle shaped face towards her.

He was a Turkish Angora hybrid, his delicate eyes narrowing as he pretended to not hear her, and continued to watch the birds with rapt interest.

Apparently, only the rich "owned" hybrids. Others were employed by the government or private corporations. The rest? She didn't know.

Once she was settled into her new home, Ariana got used to being alone again. Her mother was off on adventures with new friends and her step-father. Not that Ariana was upset, she was happy that her mother didn't need to work so hard now. She could relax, she could have fun. She couldn't remember the last time, she saw her mother smile. Now she was always smiling.

But as for her, she was alone.

One month into the new year, 1 year of officially living in Korea, Ariana found herself walking down an unfamiliar sidewalk as she explored the city. She had gone to a new coffee house in the Yongsan District and planned on going to a park near the Han river. Her GPS seemed to be taking a long way around, and she zoomed in on her phone for a shortcut. The snow was falling lightly, not enough to make her turn back, and she'd come this far anyway.

"Turn left in 500 feet." Her GPS said to her, as she held her phone out in front of her, looking at the cars that went by.

The turn would take her next to a large building and around some shopping district. Right before that was a small alley, it was narrow, but it seemed that it would take her right to the park. Or at least near it. She touched her 4A hair snug in its bun, smoothing it down as the snow fell on her.

Perhaps it was too cold to be out here.

Then she heard something, or did she? A small whimper somewhere in the alley. A chill ran down her spine as she took a deep breath and turned towards the sound.

"Hello?" Ariana called, suddenly very aware that no one seemed to be around. A few people passed but, 1 or 2 at a time. Not noticing her.

The whimper came again, and it almost sounded like a small cry. Slowly, she felt her boots crunch under new snow as she slowly made her down the alley. Why was it so dark down here?

"Do you need help?" A rattle sound and another whimper, she was about to turn back.

This is how people got murdered, but as she turned around and heard the sound of a puppy snuffle, she hurried to a pile of boxes, moving them out of the way. Old noodles, rotten vegetables, and some very smelly kimchi fell over and to the side.

Then there was an old, dirty box with Chinese writing on it. Slowly she opened it to reveal what looked like a small boy. His long, dark tail was curled around him, his face hidden in his ragged sweater that covered his whole body.

He was a hybrid. Reaching out she poked his back, only to watch him curl into himself. He was shivering, and he smelled horrible. Ariana reached her hand out again and tried to look at his face.

"Come on now sweetie, don't be afraid I won't hurt you." She didn't know if he could talk, but apparently, he could understand her.

Turning his face towards her, he gently licked at her palm before rubbing his nose into her hand. A gleam of metal shown around his neck, as she gently pulled the rectangle shaped tag so she could read it.

"Suho." She read out loud, that meant guardian. Why would someone leave a hybrid here in all this trash?

The pup named Suho climbed from the box and happily found a place to hide between her crouched legs. His small arms wrapping around her leg as he shivered. His tail was moving a mile a minute. Looking around no one noticed her, there was no one here and the snow began to fall harder. It was a lot longer walk back than she was sure he could make, but should she take him? Oh god, what would her mother say? Her step-father might have some authorities come and take him away. Ariana had wanted a friend...and her mother and step-father were never home enough to notice anything. Weighing the thoughts in her mind, Ariana looked down at Suho, he was currently trying to fit himself under her jacket, his puppy teeth biting on the cloth as he attempted to make room for himself. His dark brown ears stood erect on his head, moving about. Maybe he was some sort of Shepherd? She could spin this as a companion and just as his name implied, a guardian.

Maybe he was a reject?

Taking out her cell phone Ariana sighed dialing the number to the car service her stepfather told her to use.

"Hello? Yes, it's me. Yea, I know...I'm near the park in Yongsan...I'll send you a street name." Picking up Suho she bundled him in her jacket, his head under her chin as she looked into his deep brown eyes.

"I guess it's you and me now."

Back at home, Ariana quietly came into the house, she expected no one but didn't want any surprises. First, he'd need a bath. Rushing up to her room, she set Suho down in the bathroom, gathering clothes and shampoo and a spare toothbrush from the linen closet in the hall.

When she returned he was sitting on the floor in a pile of toilet paper. He was much more like a puppy than she expected. After he was washed and fed she'd have to do some research. Ariana wondered how fast they grew, surely not like regular humans. Was he able to talk?

"Suho." She said, taking his shirt over his head. She noticed a small patch of dark brown fur on his small chest. He looked up at her clearly knowing his name. "Can you talk?"

His ears twitched, as his head moved. He opened his mouth but closed it again. Was he mute? Running water in the tub, she added a bit of bubbles, watching as he stood next to her reaching out to touch the curious soap. When it popped he stood back, growling softly. Ariana took his hand gently and reached out to pop another bubble. When he looked at her and smiled, she smiled back before turning off the water.

"In you go." Lifting him into the tub, Suho struggled a bit in the air before settling down.

"Hot!" Suho cried out, scrambling out of the water.

So he could speak. "Ok, sorry!" Running more cold water, she adjusted the temperature for him before placing him back inside.

Was she supposed to wash him? He seemed to know what to do, taking the soapy rag from her hand as he cleaned himself. His slightly tanned skin glowed now as the dirt came off. Ariana noticed a few scrapes and cuts and wondered how he got them. When he sat back down, she set to washing his hair making sure no water got in his ears.

"So you can talk. Can you tell me where you were before? How did you end up in a box?" Finger combing through his dark hair, Suho murred gently, ears going flat.

"Don't know." He answered softly, trying to eat a handful of bubbles.

"Where is your mother? Father? Owner?" Ariana asked, rinsing his hair.

"Gone." Suho answered her. "May I eat today?"

Today? Was he not allowed to eat any other day? Tears pricked at Ariana's eyes when she noticed a large bruise on his neck. Her finger reached out to touch it, and she fought the crack in her voice as she spoke. "Suho...who did this?"

His ears flat against his head, he growled, small hands balling into fists. "I was bad."

She wasn't going to cry, he might panic or think something was wrong. Ariana rubbed her hand against his head. Wherever he came from, and whoever did this to him, they didn't need him back, and they obviously didn't want him if she found him in the trash heap. As Ariana took him from the tub, she cuddled him in a towel, gently drying his skin and hair.

"May I eat today?" He asked her again, his small eyes looking into her face.

Ariana smiled at him, taking his hands into her own. "You can eat everyday with me. You can eat when you want and as much as you want, just tell me when you are hungry."

His tail started wagging, moving his whole lower body, small arms going around her neck. Suho said nothing but this gesture, this feeling of warmth, someone wanted to be with her. Someone needed her. This was nice.

Ariana sat in the kitchen as Suho scarfed down the chicken, beef, rolls, corn, kimchi, and kimbap. He was quite fond of soda as well, burping loudly as he continued to pile food in his face. When was the last time he ate? He talked a little more about what he knew. A big building, with dogs like him, the men said he was bad, they smacked him and hurt him. They told him he couldn't eat. Then one night he fell asleep, tummy hurting and he woke up in the box and couldn't get out.

He knew nothing else.

Ariana wiped the tears from her eyes, as he said what he knew. He was a puppy, he was a child! Who could do such a thing? Finished with his food, clean and dressed in an old shirt and shorts that had to pin together Suho looked comical. She'd have to find him some appropriate clothing.

"I'm sleepy," Suho announced, sliding off the chair. He took a dish rag from the counter and bundled it on the floor in the corner. Ariana watched as he turned around on it several times before curling himself on it.

Jesus, he was used to sleeping on floors? Quickly cleaning up the dishes, Ariana carried the now sleeping Suho into her room. He was so small now. Would he always be this way? She made a pallet on the floor near her bed, laying him down on it covering him with a blanket. His mouth slightly open as he snored, his now big belly moving up and down. She smiled, taking the time to shower herself now.

She tried not to stop and think about what she was doing and what might happen. How she could get into trouble. Couldn't she? If they threw him away then they wouldn't come looking for him. Perhaps they expected him to die? Opening the door to her room, she discovered he wasn't on his pallet. A bolt of fear went through her until she saw him cuddled on the blankets of her bed.

"Suho...I thought you left." She breathed out, closing the bathroom door walking to the bed.

"Suho stays with you. I won't leave, and I'll be a good boy." He laid his head on her lap as she sat down.

Rubbing the tip of his ear gently Ariana smiled, giving his head a good scratch. "Yes, you'll stay with me."

"For a long time," Suho stated matter of factly.

"A very long time," She'd get to that research tomorrow morning. "Now it's time for bed." Getting up she closed her room door, bathing the room in darkness except for the soft pink light of a nightlight in one corner.

"Can I sleep with you?" He asked, getting himself under the covers.

A smile pricked at the corners of her mouth. "Are you afraid of the dark?"

She could barely see his face in the darkness but felt the stiffness of his body as she laid down next to him. "No. I can see in the dark. I just don't want you to leave."

Ariana ran her fingers through his hair, holding Suho's small body close to her. He smelled like her Cantu shampoo and Shea butter. "I told you, I won't ever leave. Now sleep."

Chapter Two

[spiderswithtits]

Let Us Be Bold

14 year old Archer Folley has discovered a terrible secret in his town. After committing himself to rebelling against CHORUS, he spends his time in the clubhouse with his friend Sophie and tries to plot out a way to do - well, anything.

Unfortunately, there's only so much they can do and desperation has them looking for help in unlikely places. Words: 5100 Chapter: 1/1 Language: English

Fandom: The Blackout Club

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Characters: Archer Folley (Original TBC Character), Sophie (Original TBC Character), eh there's mentions of the gods but no one else actually shows up so, the-measure-cuts, Because why not - Character

[Please see my reblog/the notes of this post for the link to the AO3 link if you’d like to review it or kudos it there! Also, Sophie doesn’t belong to me but rather a friend.]

Sometimes, the boxcar didn't seem too bad to live in.

It's daytime right now and surprisingly warm out, so Archer had to take advantage of it. The boxcar doors were pulled open as wide as they could to shake out the dust and musty air. Who knew a gaggle of teenagers could track in that much dust? The rest of the kids never stayed during the day though, so he was the one who spent most of the mornings cleaning up. There was a lot of trash - like, a lot. Soda cans, chip bags, forgotten bits of pencil shavings and mysterious strings from bandages littered the floor. It was like, pretty gross, especially since Archer was pretty sure one of them was all crusty from blood.

Now, all the trash was all collected in a pile outside and he was sweeping away at the wooden floors. Cleaning a box car was easier than any other chores he had and sweeping? Sweeping was nice. It was nice and repetitive and he could just stand there and enjoy the feeling of the sun on his face and the trees in the wind.

Sometimes, when the mornings were as calm as this, Archer could almost forget that this wasn't his real home. He… didn’t exactly like to remember his old house. It was painful to think about - too depressing! It's been what? Almost a month now since he's ran away? Yeah, if he sat down and thought about it, it was probably close to a month. It was scary back then when he lived with his real family. They were so sweet during the day, but during the night… It wasn’t his family anymore. Once he realized that, he spent all of his time lying awake at night. Fear kept him awake with the sound of - of the Song playing in the background and the padding of his family's feet around the house. His dad - so upbeat during the day - walked around and whispered about death and voices and old men in hospices. His own mom was thankfully awake, but not human anymore, he guessed. The first night he cracked his eyes open to watch her check on him, her face moved and crawled across her head like leaves on water.

Archer couldn't take it, not after that. Not after he joined the club and delved deeper under the town than he’s ever gone before and he learned that at night, he didn’t have parents anymore. What he had were two vessels that  looked like his parents but would toss him off a cliff without hesitation. Oh, Archer lost so much sleep when he realized that and his parents acted like they couldn't remember anything; his nerves were cut shorter and shorter until -

"Hey, nerd, are you okay?"

Archer jolted out of his thoughts and looked up, the broom in his hands clutched against his chest.

it was just Sophie, thank god. They stood there outside the boxcar, jacket thrown over one shoulder and their long hair pulled dripping wet over a shoulder. Their hair was redder than before they left for their makeshift shower and he's sure if he went out to the back, he'd smell the acidic tang of hair dye in the water buckets. They stared at him a bit suspiciously, but he just nodded and dropped his head. "I'm fine," Archer said, giving the floor one last good brooming towards the door. "Just... thinking."

Sophie huffed at his words and they pulled themselves up into the boxcar. "You're always thinking. What's it about this time? The coyote spies? Or like, do you have something new about the government and satellites? Like CHORUS has people in NASA?"

"Hey, it was a good theory oka - wait. Do you think Chorus actually has people in NASA?" That actually gets a laugh out of Sophie as Archer's eyes bugged out of his head and they flopped down onto the beanbag across from him.

"No, of course not! I mean, the song can't reach out that far, right? They have to stay like, here! In the RQZ."

Right. Right right. Sophie's right and Archer hung his head as he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He does a few more good sweeps to get the last of the dust outside and he watches as it billows out into the air. With the cleaning done, he set the broom up against the wall and stepped over to the bench next to Sophie and sat down. "No, it's not theories," he says as he rubs at the back of his neck. "Just..."

Sophie doesn't say anything. Not yet, anyway, but he can feel them watching him as he tried to find the words. It’s hard to say it! They’re not like him after all. They were a lot tougher than he was - braver too - and they weren’t afraid of losing family. Hell, how many times have the two of them sat down in their sleeping bags next to each other and argued over whether or not to just leave Redacre? Sophes wanted to go, but Archer wanted to stay. Where could they even go? Their family was here.

They wouldn’t understand, but the emotions were swelling up inside of him. It was like a cold rock in his stomach and not even the sun on his face could warm it up. Archer rubbed at his face and he sighed before he just let it spill out. "Just.. my family. I miss them, Soph. I keep thinking about my room, and my mom, and my dad, and how much I miss microwaves, and it sucks. It's nice here and I'm glad we're somewhere safe and I have you as my buddy but it's not the same, you know? I just..." He tapers off and then the boxcar goes quiet again. There’s nothing for a second, and Archer’s half afraid he needed to say something else. He opened his mouth, his throat worked, yet no sound came out. But, he didn’t need to say anything else. Sophie’s hand was already on his arm by the time his mouth fell closed again. Archer turned to look at them as they leaned on him, their arm wrapping around his. "I know," they say, quiet. "I'm sorry. I don't know - I can't help, and I know we can't go back. I'm sorry Archer."

The touch is comforting. It’s not the usual sort of comfort Sophie gives, but it didn’t matter. Right here, right now, it’s what he needed, and he couldn’t help but melt up against them. It's nice for him to feel them actually comforting him like this. It made him feel a little less… alone.

They're both quiet for a long moment. It's nice, just the two of them sitting there in the back of the boxcar with the sun shining in.

For a moment, Archer could sit and pretend that everything was normal. No Chorus, no voices, no dead children found in mazes, no families that tossed the bodies off cliffs after eating dinner together that night. Just... normal.

All he needed was normal.

------LATER THAT NIGHT------

"I talked to one!"

"What?"

"I talked to one of the voices, Archer!"

Sophie was a mess. Whatever cleaning he did during the day was completely ruined now as they clambered into the boxcar with dripping wet clothes and dirty boots smearing mud across the floor. They tossed their crossbow onto the equipment table and immediately slammed a boot against it to start untying their shoes.

Archer, on the other hand, was still sitting there on the floor in shock. His laptop sat next to him, glowing with the soft white of the downloaded wikipedia articles and pages and pages of his notes scattered around him with diagrams of music, maps of the town, and scribblings. "Hold on," He spluttered, staring at them.. "Hold on. Did you just say you talked to one of the voices? The ones that's trying to - to control us? Kill us?!"

"This one doesn't want to hurt us! He wants to help!" A dirty boot dropped on the floor and Sophie hopped to untie the other.

Archer scrambled up from where he sat, papers forgotten as he hurried over and grabbed at the edge of the table to look them directly in the face. "Are you possessed?" He whispered, horrified. Then he rethought and the blood drained out of his face. "Did you lead them here? You were out alone, you didn't have a buddy - oh god, I'm your buddy and I let you go out alone." Panic licked down his spine like ice water down a drain and he reached forward to grab at their jacket and pulled them close. The last thing they expected was for him to do that, and they froze as he inspected their eyes. "Did they see where the club is?! Sophie! Did they?!"

"Calm down!" They squawked and batted his hands off of their jacket. Bright red hair was falling out of the bun they kept it in and as he stepped back, it was only then he realized how dirty and beat up they looked. Sophie looked like they were dragged halfway across town and dunked into a lake and then dusted dry with dirt - if this was a ploy and they were a spy now, they wouldn't look like they just got done doing a military obstacle course, right? The voices weren't that smart, right? Or what if they were -

A hand came up to his face and he started as he realized how much closer Sophie came. Their hand was gentle at first - then they pulled it back to give him a smart smack across the cheek. "Calm down! I'm fine! I'm not possessed, if you'd give me a second to actually talk before you manhandled me, I could tell you everything that happened!"

Right. Yeah. Debriefing, that was... probably important. His cheek stung, but it was what he needed to knock the panic right out of his head. They needed to debrief without any of the panic, and Archer nodded at Sophie before pulling away. "Right," He echoed, sitting heavily on the boxcar bench. The door was still cracked open and the noise of crickets and the light of the moon lit up the forest almost like it was day and he closed his eyes to listen to the night. It was quiet, blissful silence while he tried to calm himself and Sophie sighed as they continued to take their shoes off.

"Are you feeling better now?" They asked as they thunked something heavy next to him. Cracking his eyes open, Archer could see that they were putting the dirt covered shoes away and dragging out a new pair from the closet. They dug through the boxes too, searching for a new pair of pants in their size. His hands and his lips still shook from his panic, but he thought he was calm enough to listen so he nodded.

Sophie eyed him up, not quite believing him as well as he wanted but that's fine. They'll still tell them and that's all that he cared about.

"Well," They started as they dug out another shirt and jacket. "While I was out there, I found something - something new! Or, well, I found it like, weeks ago.” Clothes in hand, they started stomping their way to the sleeping bag car, voice rising so he could hear as they shut the door. It was simple privacy while they changed. “Remember when I told you about those like, impressions of people pressed up against the walls? The ones you couldn't see when I dragged you out on the missions? I kept telling you to look for the blue mist but you could never see it."

He remembered that. He remembered how he stood there at the edge of the bed and flailed about trying to find this person they told him about. He saw nothing but the backs of his eyelids and after a few minutes - the tell tale sign of the shape walking into the house. Definitely not the figure Sophie was talking about, but he yelled back a loud “Uh-huh!”

"Okay, well, I found out what they were!" There's the sound of jacket zipping up now and the door slid back open. Sophie was in new clothes now - a neat little hoodie zipped up to the neck and track pants. They're cleaner than the other clothes they had on and they crouched as they started digging up some new shoes out of the closet. Sophie didn’t waste any time to start pulling them on and suddenly it dawned on him what they were doing. Were... were they planning on going back out there?! Archer can't help but gape at them as they laced up their shoes.

"They're name fragments!"

...What?

His mouth took a minute to catch up with his thoughts, but once it did and he vocalized it, Sophie beamed. "Name fragments!" She repeated! "There's like - there's all those voices we've been hearing, right? In our dreams and that the sleepers and lucids talk about? There's one they haven't been talking about! There's a secret voice, because he's supposed to be dead! Or, like, imprisoned. I don't know! Either way, the other voices don't like him!" They gave the laces one last tug to tighten them up and they scrambled across the floor to him, bouncing eagerly on their feet.

"Archer," they gushed. "Archer, I think he can help us get out of here."

Out... of there? Out of Redacre?

Sophie's talked about it a lot. Archer can't even say they haven’t, but that seemed as much of a pipe dream as his dreams were about following the trails of coyotes to where they were clearly gathering as spies for CHORUS. But this? There was a spark in their eyes, a fire that burned in their pupils and a determination in their shoulders that actually made him hesitate.

"S-Sophie," He stammered out. "I don't know. It's a voice, can we even - are we even able to trust it?"

There's a pause, and their eyebrows creased together as they studied him. "Yes," They said softly. "I think we can."

Archer didn’t buy it, but he didn’t say it. He's sure Sophie could read the hesitation on his face, but they didn’t say a word before they stood up and tugged him up with them.

"Hey, just come with me, okay? For one mission, before the sun comes up. I think he'll still be around to talk if you want to speak to him yourself." He stood as they talked and Sophie pulled him on over to the shoes. "Grab something you can run with and just - just try it with me okay? You like proof, let's go get you some proof."

Archer nudged one of the shoes out of the closet and he paused as he slipped his toes in. "And you promise this isn't a possession thing, right?" He asked. His voice is so much quieter than he'd ever like to admit but he's nervous! How could he not be!

Sophie just beamed again and nodded. "Trust me. I'm your buddy, we have each other's backs. Now let's go and kick some CHORUS ass."

---

The mission was a bust. Like, an absolute bust.

By the time they limped back on over to the boxcar, they were exhausted and scraped up and Archer was sure there was a splinter shoved an inch deep into his hand. God damn lucids, he thought as he pushed the door to the boxcar open. The two of you had spent your time wandering the neighbourhood and collecting evidence before the club reached out to the two of you, pleading for help to rescue a kid that was kidnapped. It went pretty well - until they got to the maze where it looks like Archer stepped right into the middle of a lucid meeting. They cornered him up in the rafters in the observation room and he cowered in the corner for five whole minutes as he waited for Sophie to save him.

Honestly? Thank god for his Blackout Buddy. If it wasn't for them, he's sure he'd be wandering the maze with the song vibrating in his head and the shape at his back and whispers in his head of where to go, who to talk to and what to do. They already did it once with the girl they went down there to save and he nearly got dragged away trying to save her from the song.

"That was too tough," Sophie groaned as they turned and hopped up onto the boxcar. Their legs dangled as they flopped backwards and stretched their arms out above their head. "I almost thought we were done for!"

"Yeah," Archer murmured as he clambered up next to them. "Me too. That was uh, pretty bad. Do you think the kid we saved is gonna make it back to us? I know they said to go ahead and they'll catch up but there were so many lucids and the shape was there and all..."

Sophie's quiet for a minute. Then, they cursed and pulled themselves back up. "Dumb kid, I know Rosalyn. She's probably the kind of person who'd get caught again so we should probably go get her." They slid off the boxcar and straightened up to eye up Archer.

He... didn't look so good. If he was honest, he was sort of hoping that they wouldn't ask him to come with because he's had enough of all this sneaking and this fighting tonight. Brawling wasn’t what he was built for - not like how Sophie was.

Luckily for him, it looks like they could see it. "... You should stay,” They said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind an ear.  “You look beat up and you know what? I know the maze better. I'll go look for her and you clean up and get the club ready if we need to patch up, okay?" Archer breathed a sigh of relief and he couldn't help but nod enthusiastically.

"Course! I'll keep things nailed down here. You go get her and come right back, okay?" He lifted up his fist to Sophie and they grinned and bumped knuckles.

"See you in a bit, nerdface!"

And with that, Sophie whirled around and darted off and Archer was alone in the boxcar. Again.

He took a moment to just sit there, legs swinging. Crickets chirped around him and if he listened, oh so faintly there was the soft hoots of owls. No coyote howls, but that he's been trying to catch for awhile. It was just... silence. Blissful silence and if Archer closed his eyes, he could almost believe he was safe and sound in his bed at home with his family.

His... family. The ones he's already ditched to live in a grimy little box car out in the woods, pouring over his notes and the reports kids brought back to him and only spotting on occasion when he wandered the neighbourhood. He's seen his dad a few times wandering around in his pajamas and it just made the ache in his heart hurt more. Today was just a day to think on them, wasn’t it? Maybe all the camping out was getting to him.

Archer wasn't Sophie. He wasn't some badass who could ditch their family at the drop of his hat. He loved his mother! He loved his father! You're not supposed to just - just ditch them!

But how was he going to save his family? Everything he's had so far has been useless to try to break the song. He's tried playing music (that was an awful evening bolting from sleepers), he's tried breaking into the shape doors (Sophie nearly smacked his head off when she found him dazed on the ground, blood coming from his nose from trying to pry one open), he's tried - well, he's tried everything!

There was something Archer was missing. There was information that he couldn't just - just steal or figure out.

He needed answers.

A lot of the other Blackout Club kids told him about their weird dreams. Voices, they said, in their heads that answered questions they had. If they focused, they could try to aim it towards one of them and sometimes - the voices talked back. The most successful responses were always done in front of a source of flame though, like a candle or... a lighter.

Archer sighed as he cracked his eyes back open and he pushed his way up. There was a weight in his pocket, one he barely noticed since he swiped it from a bed stand on his way back to the boxcar, but now... Now he reached into his jacket to touch it. It’s cold against his touch, but he gripped it hard enough to hurt as his mind whirled with his thoughts.

Archer spent a lot of time studying these voices. He recorded the questions the other kids told him they answered and kept a tally of their names and their words. There were seven, so far. All of them seemed to be some flavor of frightening or manipulative and he avoided ever trying to think out a question to one of them. He wasn’t interested in hearing what a bunch of lying and cheating ‘gods’ had to say after all. Or, well, usually. Most of them weren’t exactly the question answering type.

Shoving open the boxcar door to the sleeping bags, Archer stopped to stare at the altar mirror across the cab. No one could remember when that was put up there. Even the oldest members of the club said it's always been there and no one has yet tried to move it. He's been tempted to, but in the end, well, he never did.

But that... was where the kids went if they wanted to ask questions of the voices. It was dangerous, you're pretty sure, but they hadn't found the hideout yet so maybe it wasn't as bad as feared. It was just... a mirror, right? This couldn't have any sort of significance, it was just - Apophenia. Yeah, that's the term.

"Apophenia," Archer whispered as he approached the mirror, the lighter in his pocket getting heavier with every step he took. "The phenomena where people mistakenly perceive connections and meanings between unrelated things. That's... that's what's happening." Hell, maybe he didn't need a lighter here to make this prayer! Maybe all of these 'voices' that the other kids heard was just a mass hallucination where they all wanted to hear the answers they wanted to hear, all packaged up in the common enemy of Speaks-As-One.

Yeah, that had to be it, he thought as he stopped in front of the mirror. What other explanation could there be? That’s what he told himself, but there was still the slightest sliver of doubt planted deep in his mind, whispering that CHORUS didn’t just make itself out of nowhere. If he really believed that it was a hallucination, then what was he doing now in front of the mirror? Was it wistful thinking or desperation that had him staring at himself through the altar mirror. Archer hadn’t looked at himself in awhile now. He was thin - thinner than when he left home - and twiggy, all hidden under baggy sweaters and pants. His hair was getting a bit too long than his own mom would have liked, with the strands curling up lazily near his chin and hooking around his big, thick glasses. They weren’t big enough to hide the tiredness on his face though, or the bags under his eyes, or the hesitation and fear that drew his face long.

Archer pulled the lighter out of his pocket and he turned it over in his hand. It was plain polished metal and nearly gone if the slosh of liquid inside was any indicator. He'd have just enough fuel for a prayer or two if he was lucky. He just had to.. he just had to get the spine to do it now.

Inhaling, he flipped the lid open. The lighter was the same as any other lighter he's seen and he pressed his thumb up against the wheel to click it on. The flame was small and it flickered in the gust of his breath as he stared at it and Archer briefly wondered if there was a correlation between the flames of these prayers and the fact that the symbol Sophie described for Thee-I-Dare was flame shaped. Maybe? Maybe there was a correlation with the rebellious attitude the voice had and how quickly it was snuffed out? Or how he could ignite rebellion? Or, no - didn't he just berate himself for falling down the apophenia trap? It's not important, so he doesn't try to mull on it for long. If it turns out this is one big farce, there’s no need to get himself swept up in his theories again.

...But he wonders how he's supposed to keep this lit while he prays. It's such an incredibly simple problem that it snapped Archer out of his melancholy as he took his thumb off the switch and the flame flickered out. What the hell? The other kids said you needed an active flame to pray properly but he couldn't even get the lighter to stay on! Archer placed the lighter down onto the altar for a second and he turned as he tried to scan his sleeping back for something - anything - he could use to wedge the switch down. Maybe, if he just took a paperclip from his binder and snipped it to a point -

Click.

If Archer wasn't scared before, he certainly was now. The sound was so soft, so delicate from behind him and when he turned to face the altar -

The lighter was on. The flame flickered in the mirror and he stared at it. There was nothing pressing the lighter button down now and yet it sat there, burning away and jumping and dancing like he was the one who ignited it, who just casually left it there to burn and burn and burn.

Suddenly, the boxcar didn't feel as empty as it did before. His heart beat deep and fast in his throat and the blood rushing in his ears was loud enough to drown out the crickets outside. Right now, it was just him and that lighter and whatever it was that kept it lit. Archer's skin prickled as he realized that he was alone against the big wide world out there. There's no Sophie to save his ass if something happened now - he'd have to save himself and hope for the best. If someone happened on the boxcar now...

Well. Archer would be dead. Probably. Or shaped permanently or dragged off like Bells was.

But he was brave! He had to be. His hands shook but he wiped them against his jeans to smear off the sweat and he inhaled, nice and deep as he considered his next move. Archer swallowed to try to ease the dryness in his mouth and he slowly knelt in front of the altar, eyes fixed on the flame before him. This was some true supernatural shit he never expected to actually work - but at the very least, he came prepared? Thank god for his overplanning.

Archer knew the names of all the voices that have cropped up so far. Laughs-Last, In-Her-Teeth, Dance-For-Us, Thee-I-Dare, Speaks-As-One, Die-For-You and The-Measure-Cuts. He spent a while thinking about the seven voices and which he would talk to because only a few of them would be any help to him. Laughs-Last and Dance-For-Us were too much crazy for them to be any help. They seemed more keen to mock and demand entertainment than answer any questions so they were off the list. Speaks-As-One was definitely off the list. He wasn't that brave to try to get his attention. Die-For-You almost seemed like a good voice to try, but after scrutinizing dream after dream that was told to him, Archer felt like they'd be more eager to further their own agenda of cultish fanaticism than help him.

Which left... The-Measure-Cuts.

Archer didn't have much on him yet, except that he was precise, skeptical, and had an appreciation for mathematics. He seemed new, but eager to talk if you could bring something worthy of his attention to the table - but if you didn't show you could bring him something to scrutinize, he'd toss you aside like a spent pen. There was something with him with butterflies and slicing and cutting though and that’s a concern, but he had a theory that he did that only when he knew he squeezed every bit of information out of someone he could. If someone was careful, maybe Archer could lead him on and squeeze something out of him.

The-Measure-Cuts was the only one that Archer felt like would answer a question - or at least give them hints. Men of knowledge were always eager to share and debate, weren't they?

Archer inhaled, slow and shaky, as he dipped his head to his chest. The flame flickered in front of his face as he sat there and tried to go over the words he prepared just the other night. There was just... there was so much fear clogging up his insides and for a moment, he was tempted to simply stand up and slap the light off the table and forget about it all.

But then he thought of his family. He thought of his parents wandering under the lull of a song that wanted to kill him and his friends. He thought of Sophie and how they wanted to run rather than save their families. He thought of the only home he's ever known and how he's abandoned it now just to hide like a coward. He's always been a coward when it came to fighting. Archer was a thinker - a planner! - and he had to do something with this big brain of his, right?

So Archer exhaled and calmed his mind. Something almost seemed to charge in the air while he collected himself, almost like something was turning its head to listen - like there’s something that’s noticing him for the first time.

And then…. he spoke.

"Hi um, This is Archer. I'm 14 years old and like, my friend Sophie said that they've been talking to some of you quote unquote 'gods' or whatever you're called, so I guess I'm trying this out because I want answers."

[in-the-grip-of-depression]

In The Grip Of Depression Chapter 20: Bad Memory

Chapter 1|Previous Chapter|Next Chapter Trigger Warnings: vomiting, violence, mentions of blood, torture, manipulation

Thomas sat in his living room with his laptop, looking through different plays and musicals with a much more cheerful mood than he'd had for a while.

He'd been sitting there for hours and had completely forgotten about his phone which was still up in his bedroom.

His phone, which had been going off for an hour, finally fell silent where it sat next to a small bottle of pills on Thomas's bedside table.

Thomas continued browsing and no one appeared to remind him of the alarm he'd set so he remained that way for the rest of the day. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Romans eyes fluttered open and he pushed himself up off the floor with a groan. He was still in his bedroom where he'd collapsed after puking but he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious.

He sat on his bed and ran a hand down his face, trying to remember what exactly had happened. He smiled at the memory of Virgil but pushed that away to focus on why he'd felt so tired and dizzy.

He'd only ever felt like that a few times and that was usually after a long strenuous session in the imagination forest where he liked to create weird hybrid animals and things.

His face went pale as he remembered that Virgil and Preston were in part of the imagination forest which meant one of them must have created something complex enough to drain him. He knew it wasn't Virgil so that just left Preston.

He went to open his door, ready to warn Virgil, but his door seemed to have merged with the wall. It was completely sealed shut and he was stuck inside. He hit the place where his door should have been but made contact with hard stone.

He tried to teleport but it didn't work so he instead tried to sink down only to find he couldn't do that either. Panic started to set in slightly as he realised how bad this was. He knew Preston had created something but couldn't warn anyone.

He suddenly remembered his phone and quickly pulled it out. He dialled Virgils number and waited, forcing himself to remain calm.

"hello?" said a croaky voice and Roman felt his heart ache at hearing Virgils voice like that.

"Virgil, it's me. I have a real big issue and I needed to warn you..." Roman started but was cut off.

"Have you calmed down now?" Virgil asked in a shaky voice.

Roman frowned in confusion "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You... You were so angry and loud and you... You left me." Virgil said, his voice breaking on the second to last word.

Roman was instantly alarmed. "When was this?" he asked, trying to hide his panic.

"about an hour and a half ago." Virgil said. "Why are you asking me? You were there."

Roman made a noise of distress "That wasn't me Virgil. I got really dizzy as I was walking past my room and ended up puking then passing out on the floor. I only woke up five minutes ago and my doors completely gone. I can't get out of my room. I don't know who you thought you were talking to but it wasn't me. You've got to believe me."

There was a moments pause and then "Oh my fucking god."

"What? What happened?" Roman asked desperately.

"I... Don't worry. I'm not sure why you called me because I can't exactly help."

"Wait! Virgil." Roman exclaimed.

Virgil sighed "What?"

"I... I... Lo.."

"Oh shit! I have to go, bye." Virgil rushed out, cutting off Romans words and then hanging up, leaving Roman staring at the phone with tears running down his face. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan opened his eyes and glanced around, taking note of Patton slumped in the chair by the bed and silently slipped out of the bed.

He crept towards the door and opened it, making his way to his own room.

The nightmare he'd had reminded him of a certain box of things he still had. He carefully opened his wardrobe and shifted a bunch of stuff until he caught sight of a wooden box.

He pulled it out with shaking hands and gently prised it open to reveal the paper inside. He shuddered and hesitated, not sure if he could bring himself to go through this box again.

Eventually he plucked up the courage to do so and pulled out a couple pages.

These were all the memories he'd ripped out of the others memory books. He'd never actually been able to destroy them and he was debating whether or not to try and put them back.

The sudden gain of these memories would probably cause the others to turn on him but he needed them to know exactly what had happened or he'd never be able to look them in the eye.

His eyes flicked over the page in his hands and shuddered as he remembered what had happened.

*flashback*

Logan was walking down a corridor when suddenly Roman appeared out of nowhere.

"What did you do?" he demanded angrily.

Logan stopped and tried to rack his brain to figure out what Roman was referring to.

"I know you and that other trait are up to something and I'm pretty sure I found out what but my memory of the last few hours is completely blank. You must have done something." Roman was right in Logans face now.

"I.. I have no idea what you're talking about." Logan spluttered out and Roman growled and shoved him into a wall.

"sure you fucking don't! Tell me what you did to me or I swear I'll...."

"ah ah ah, not so fast Princey boy." a familiar voice said cutting off Romans threat.

Logan and Roman turned their heads to see Preston leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his mouth, casually smoking as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Preston pushed himself away from the wall and approached Roman with a mocking smile "I'm afraid I can't let you harm Logan, he's mine and you have no right to have your hands on him"

Logan flinched as Prestons arm shot out and pulled Roman away from him.

"let me go!" Roman shouted but Preston let out a cruel laugh. "I don't think I will, you have quite the set of lungs on you and I love listening to a good scream."

Logan closed his eyes as Roman suddenly let out a small gasp of pain which turned into a loud scream, he didn't need to look to know Preston had pulled out one of his knives.

Logan only opened his eyes when Preston had done and all he could hear was the pained sobs from Roman.

There was blood all over the place and Logans stomach churned as he looked at the nasty slashes Preston had inflicted on Roman.

"Aw Logan what's wrong? You look like you're going to be sick. Come here, I'll make it all better." Preston said in a convincingly concerned sounding voice.

Logan was pulled into a hug which meant he also became covered in blood. "Red is definitely your colour. How about you clean up this little situation and I'll meet you back in your room to continue what we did yesterday." Preston purred this in Logans ear and placed a demanding kiss on his lips before sauntering away with a smug smirk.

Logan approached Roman, shaking and trying to stay strong. He placed a hand on one of his wounds and healed it, silent tears slipping down his face the whole time.

"W.... Why?" Roman gasped out and Logan closed his eyes as he responded "I'm sorry."

Romans betrayed expression was plastered to the inside of his eyelids as he healed all the wounds but he managed to stay focused. Roman had passed out from blood loss so it was easier to clean up the blood and meant he was able to sneak to the memory library so he could rip out what had just happened.

*flashback end*

Logans hands shook so much he could barely hold the paper in his hands. He quickly put it down but his hand brushed against something else in the box and he gagged.

Slightly hidden amongst the paper was a set of photographs that Logan didn't even know why he'd kept them.

He pushed the box away, trying to control the urge to puke that had hit him when he'd noticed the photos.

A morbid curiosity came over him after a while and his hand inched back into the box and pulled out the collection of photos.

He took a deep breath and looked at the first one, just about stopping himself from puking as he saw his own bloodied up body. He knew why he'd kept these now. He'd kept them because Preston had demanded him too.

Every single one of the pictures were taken by Preston and nearly all of them were of Logan after a particularly bloody punishment and there was even one which had to have been taken while Preston had been torturing him during sex.

Logan immediately flipped that one over so he didn't have to look at it and glanced at the last photo. He frowned in confusion as it wasn't of him. It was a random photo of the mindspace and he could just make out a blurry figure that was just enough out of focus that he couldn't recognise them.

He pried his eyes away from the photo and put his head in his hands. Going through all this had definitely brought up some painful memories but he was adamant about restoring them for the others so they could know the true extent of what happened last time. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil dropped his phone, his eyes locked onto his arm in terror.

His skin had always been unhealthily pale but now it looked grey and seemed to be flaking like he had some sort of skin disease.

He'd noticed it while on the phone to Roman and had actually seen the greyness spread from his upper arm down to his elbow which is what had made him hang up on Roman so abruptly.

He couldn't even remember what Roman had been saying, he was too focused on what was happening to his arm.

It was the same arm that had felt sore, like it had been friction burned and he was freaking out.

"That doesn't look good." a voice said and Virgil spun around to face the barrier, his energy going wild as he panicked.

"Roman? What?" Virgil said in confusion as he saw Roman standing in front of the barrier and sent a glance back at where his phone lay in the dirt.

"ah I'm guessing you're wondering why I'm here when you just got off the phone with me." Roman said with a small smile.

Virgils head felt fuzzy as he tried to remember what exactly Roman had said via the phone. He knew it was important but the more he tried to remember the more he forgot.

"I thought you said something about feeling sick?" Virgil said, making it more of a question as he was unsure if that was what had been said.

"Yes, I did. I said that the way I reacted earlier made me feel sick and I was going to apologise but you hung up before I could so I decided to come apologise in person." Roman explained.

Virgil frowned, he was convinced that wasn't what happened but he couldn't even remember what had been said so maybe he was just being paranoid.

"What's up with your arm?" Roman suddenly asked and Virgil cringed.

The greyness wasn't too bad, a little off putting but Virgil could deal with it. The worst part was the flakiness, it was like pastry and it made Virgil feel nauseous at the sight of it.

"I don't know. I think it might be a side effect of the tablets." Virgil said, too focused on his arm that he missed the way Romans eyes seemed to flash a different colour briefly.

"If that's happening to you do you think it's happening to Preston?" Roman asked.

Virgil frowned again as he both considered that and wondered why Roman was suddenly referring to Preston by his name again.

"Depression crawled away at some point while we were distracted and I haven't seen him since so maybe. It's actually concerning that we haven't seen a sign of him." Virgil said, looking over at the treeline as if he expected to see Preston pop out from behind a tree.

"Yeah, that's really worrying." Roman responded, his eyes also flicking over the treeline.

"Maybe I should go see if he's up to something, him having all this time alone to scheme is definitely not good." Virgil said, taking a step towards the trees.

Roman immediately shouted "No don't! I don't want you getting hurt. What if this is his plan? He could be hiding in the trees waiting for you to go looking for him and then he could ambush you."

Virgil jumped at the sudden rise in volume and his energy instinctively attacked the barrier like it had when Patton made him jump.

This time when the energy hit the barrier it made a strange creaking noise and the barrier flexed slightly.

Roman took a few steps back, his eyes wide as they focused on Virgil who looked absolutely terrified.

"What was that?" Roman asked, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Virgil was speechless as he stepped closer to the barrier and ran a hand across it. The barriers reaction had spooked him.

"I think somethings wrong with the barrier." Virgil eventually muttered.

"Or maybe your energy is getting stronger." Roman commented in an odd voice.

Virgils panic spiked at the thought of his energy being stronger which resulted in his energy going crazy.

"Virge what are you doing?" Roman asked as the energy started causing several trees to shake.

Virgil noticed and tried his hardest to stop it but he couldn't, his energy seemed to have a mind of its own.

One of the trees was suddenly uprooted and sent spiralling into the barrier.

Romans face flickered slightly as a grin tried to twist its way onto his lips.

Virgil was now on the floor gasping for breath as he started having a panic attack so he didn't even notice that 'Roman' was acting out of character.

The black energy was leaving scorch marks and scratches along the ground as it ravaged the area. The barrier was warping and bending everytime it collided with it.

'Roman' kicked at the barrier and smirked as it creaked like before and the tiniest of fractures appeared.

Virgil raised his head and was horrified as Romans face melted away to reveal mismatched eyes and one side of his face covered in snake scales.

"Deceit!" he gasped out before collapsing, his lungs feeling like they were on fire as he struggled to breathe.

Deceit chuckled "Who else did you expect? It's funny that the others never made the connection between me and Preston. Did they honestly think it could be any of the others? Please, those incompetent fools haven't got the brains."

Virgil lay on the floor unable to respond as he fought to breathe properly.

"Logan is one tough guy, I'm shocked he's not more messed up. The number of times Preston came to see me covered in Logans blood... Phew it was a nightmare getting it out of the carpet let me tell you." Deceit said reminiscing about old times.

Virgils energy was still attacking the barrier and Deceit smirked as he produced a cane that matched his outfit.

"You might want to cover your head, things are about to get messy." Deceit said to Virgil and swung his cane as hard as he could at the barrier.

A large crack began to zigzag its way up the barrier and time seemed to freeze for a second before the entire barrier shattered like glass.

Virgil let out a scream as he was showered with shards of the barrier and Deceit let out a raucous laugh.

His part of the deal was done, now it was time for Preston to hold up his end.

[cynicallystiles]

All I Wanted: Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Gif originally posted by me.

Author: @cynicallystiles

Warning: The Vampire Diaries spoilers if you haven’t seen seasons 6-8. Cursing and a little angst.

Notes: I will be posting chapters every other Friday. But, yesterday I was so busy and tired that I forgot. So, here it is. Please comment or reblog if you enjoy! I like knowing when you guys want more!

Pairing: Kai Parker x Reader, Jeremy Gilbert x Reader

Masterlist 

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter3

Words: 2,511

I wake up with what feels like a hangover. But, I didn't drink last night. At least not that I remember? I came straight back to my dorm after classes and studied until I went to sleep. I check my laptop for emails as I do every morning. Nothing from myself, so I guess yesterday was pretty uneventful.

It's strange though. I don't remember what I was studying. I look through all of my school materials for any indication I was working on something last night. Nothing. I go through my files on the laptop to see if I was studying online. There is one assignment that was due last night at midnight. And I didn't turn it in.

If I was studying all night, wouldn't I have turned in my work? I always turn things in on time. Damnit. I got compelled last night, didn't I? Probably didn't even have time to send an email. I wonder what I saw that I wasn't supposed to. Or heard, maybe. Well, it's a Saturday. That means I don't have classes. Which also means I can retrace my steps to see what happened.

I change out of my PJs and head to where I would've gone first yesterday. Occult Studies. I take the same route as I always do; nothing stands out. I search around the desk that I use in the class. And nothing. I do the same with the rest of the classes that I would've had. Zip. After leaving the last class, I head in the direction of my dorm.

Glancing around, it's pretty scarce for people. Everyone always has big plans for the weekend. Parties and trips home. I, on the other hand, am stuck trying to figure out where my memory's gone. My head swivels past the parking lot with three or four cars in it. I stop in my tracks. As I look back at the cars, I notice my first actual clue.

My car. I can't believe I didn't think of it before. Of course; if I didn't study in my dorm, then I must've gone somewhere. I mean, there's no logical reason that I would've been compelled on campus. Listen to me. Logical? Like any of this is logical. I'm on a friggin scavenger hunt to try and find my lost memories that a vampire compelled out of me. Logic has gone out the window.

I make my way to my car and hop in the driver's seat. I check the glove compartment, the middle compartment, and above the sun visors. My car is as spotless as always. After thinking for a moment, I put my key in the ignition and turn the car on. Looking at the console behind the wheel, I try to decipher some kind of indication of where I went. My mileage is higher than I remember, but I couldn't tell you by how much.

I flip the total mileage to see the trip meter. It looks like I started it over before I went wherever. God, I'm a genius. If I divide the trip in half and look at a perimeter of those miles, I can find where I went. After doing the math and plotting, I notice that there are a few places I could've gone. One being just outside Mystic Falls. Which seems most likely. But, where outside Mystic Falls did I go? I drop my head down in frustration. When I open my eyes, I see mud. Mud on my clean carpets.

I went to the cemetery!

Without a second thought, I buckle my seatbelt and drive there as fast and safe as I possibly can. On the drive, I think about why I would've needed to be compelled at the cemetery. Hopefully, when I get there it won't be a repeat. Making all this investigating for nothing.

I step out onto the dirt trail, which is semi-dry now. I head toward the Salvatore Crypt since it's the only grave site I really know here. When I get there, there is absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. I head inside and see nothing particularly weird for a crypt. I can't believe I came all the way out here for nothing.

Disappointed, I slowly walk back outside. Only to be startled by a man leaning against a tree. I instantly tense, knowing better than to interact with a stranger in a cemetery. Damon taught me that. I try to pretend I didn't see him and head towards the trail to my car, clutching my keys tightly.

It's useless as he addresses me. "Fancy meeting you here," the man says fondly with a twinge of amusement.

"I'm sorry?" I ask stupidly. He acts like he knows me.

He cocks his head to the side with a surprised smile. He slowly steps closer to where I've frozen in place. "Why would you be sorry? Here I was thinking I'd never run into at Whitmore, and you run into me. Here in this cemetery that's miles and miles away from that college," he chuckles to himself as he's ten feet away now.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what you're talking about. You must have me confused with someone else," I try to explain as I take a few steps backward.

Hands in his pockets, he inches closer yet again. "No. No. I'm very good with faces. You take an Occult class at Whitmore?" He asks for confirmation. I nod timidly. As he continues to talk, I take in the details of his face. He's always smiling but there's something off about it. Something...sinister. Or maybe mischievous. Or both. His blue eyes shine when they look me up and down like I'm dinner or something. "See! I knew it. Yeah, your name is y/n."

"How...how do you know that?" I ask, fear starting to seep into my tone. I slowly reach into my purse and try to grab my phone.

He must've heard the change in my tone because he takes two bigger steps so that he's right in front of me. He has to look down at my small height. "Because we met yesterday!" He chuckles again. For a moment, I relax. He actually does seem familiar.

I decide to play along so he might let me go. "Oh...right! I'm really forgetful these days," I chuckle nervously as I tap my head with my palm.

"That's really funny," he begins, his tone slightly darker than before. I swallow hard. "You see, yesterday..." He's closed the distance and now he stands uncomfortably close to me. He lowers his head and licks his lips before continuing. "You said you'd definitely remember me."

I open my mouth, nothing comes out for a moment. Pulling on a fake smile, I reply, "Did I say that?" He bites his bottom lip and nods with a smirk. "I...I don't know why I said that. I have a terrible memory."

"Mhm," his throat hums in a low seductive tone. He shifts his head to the other side as his eyes stare into mine intensely. "I think it had something to do with my name," he suggests as his eyes flick down to my lips.

As he stares at my lips and I stare at his, I can feel the distance between us shrinking. Something very bad is about to happen. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. "What is it?"

"Kai Parker," he whispers as his eyes close and he moves to close the gap.

Something triggers in me and everything is slow motion. I immediately let go of my phone and position my hand around the pepper spray attached to my keys. Stepping back, I bring my hand up and spray him for a good amount of time. Then, I take off running toward my car as I finally grab my phone and call Damon. I don't know why, but he's the first name that popped into my head.

It begins to ring. Luckily, after two of them, he picks up. "Rugrat, what's up?"

"Damon!!" I scream into the phone as I run as fast as I can.

His voice shifts from nonchalant to protective in a millisecond. "Y/n? What's going on? Why do you sound like that?"

"I was...in the ceme...tery, and he approached...me," I say in between pants.

"Who approached you??"

"Kai...Parker. I don't know why... but you said..."

"Yeah, I know what I said. Where are you now?" He asks sternly.

"I'm trying to get...to my car. I used pepper-spray...to get away..."

"Listen to me, you keep running to your car and when you get in, you drive straight to Jeremy in Mystic Falls. Okay?"

Terror sets in and I begin to cry. "Okay. Damon, I'm scared..."

"I know, Rugrat. But, you're gonna be okay. Do you see your car?"

I swallow the burning sensation in my throat. "Yeah, I'll call you when I get to Jer."

"You better."

I hang up and skid to a stop at my door. Fumbling with my keys, I finally unlock my car and get in. Immediately locking the doors and starting it up. I throw the car in reverse and turn the car around in a rush. Dirt flies away from the tires as I put it in drive and step on the gas. Without looking back, I make it to the highway and head down it to Mystic Falls.

As soon as I pass the Mystic Falls sign, my head begins to sear with pain. My head throbs as I continue driving to the Lockwood estate where Jer is supposed to be. Flashes of pictures fill my head. Rapidly and all out of order. There are visions of everyone I know. Visions of unexplainable things. I clutch my head with one hand as I drive with the other, yelling in pain. I finally make it to the estate and jump out of my car.

I run tiredly towards the front doors as the visions begin to fade. All these things in my head are like puzzle pieces that have been crammed into the wrong space. My knees begin to wobble as I make it onto the porch. I bang on the door weakly with both of my fists. As soon as the door opens, I collapse from exhaustion and adrenaline. I fall unconscious into someone's arms.

Now that my body has nothing else to do but think, the pictures are reordering themselves. The visions are playing out like dreams. I'm watching them happen from my point of view but I can't control anything.

I know the man from the cemetery. Kai. I met him yesterday on campus. I wasn't afraid of him. I was attracted to him. I can't believe I pepper-sprayed him. When he touched my hand, I had these flashes before. Of Damon. And of Jeremy. The vision of Damon was him arguing with Elena about the first time they compelled me. The vision of Jeremy was of him and Tyler talking about werewolves. Damon was the last one to compel me. He compelled away meeting Kai. These are my compelled memories.

I remember everything.

As soon as the last memory comes back into focus, I stir awake. It feels like I'm in a bed, but my eyelids are so heavy. I hear whispering. It sounds like Jeremy is here.

"Yeah, she's here...no, she wasn't followed...collapsed on the porch...been out... several hours..."

I try to force myself to wake up fully, but it hurts. "Nngnn," I moan as my eyes adjust to the dim light.

"She's waking up...yeah...you later..."

The bed dips and a gentle hand caresses my forehead. "How are you feeling?" He sounds so far away even though he's touching me.

"So, it takes me getting attacked in a cemetery to warrant a visit from you, huh?" I mumble as I laugh. Then, I wince at the pain from laughing. I'm so sore.

He chuckles and finally my eyes come into focus to take him in. His hair is growing out yet again. But, his muscles are bigger than the last time I saw him. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should've been there for you..." he trails off, his expression turning from sad to guilty.

"I'm just teasing, Gilbert," I smile faintly at him as I take his hand off of my cheek where it came to rest. I squeeze his hand and he looks at me. "You couldn't have known."

He just shakes his head. "Why were you in the cemetery by yourself?" He asks suddenly.

I shrug. "Figured it'd be a great place to make new friends," I chuckle and notice him reluctantly crack a smile. "There it is," I smile once again.

"There's what?" He asks amused.

I swallow saliva, and my throat aches with every sound that comes out. "My best friend's perfect smile..." I smile as my eyelids drift close. I'm so tired.

"You get some sleep. I'll take you back to Whitmore tomorrow," he says softly. He moves to get off the bed, but I tighten my grip on his hand. "What?"

I force my eyes open slightly and see his warm brown eyes looking down at me. "Stay with me. I've missed you..."

"I missed you too," he whispers as he kicks off his shoes and lays down on top of the covers next to me. He moves his arm behind me and rolls me into his chest. We used to fall asleep like this on movie nights at his house.

I nuzzle my head into his muscular chest and take in his cologne. His steady breathing starts to lull me back to sleep. "Jer?" I croak out a whisper.

I feel him shift his head to look at the top of mine. "Hm?" He hums soothingly into my hair.

"Please don't let me forget," I request in my delirium.

His heartbeat shifts as he answers. "What do you mean?"

"If you let them make me forget," I begin, "then, I won't remember this." My voice becomes watery, saddened by my own statement.

"It'll be okay, y/n," he says unconvincingly. Like he's just soothing a mad rambling person.

I shake my head into him. "I remember everything, Jer. But, if Elena compels me tomorrow, I'll forget seeing you and touching you," I whisper as tears fall from my eyes.

"They've been compelling you?" He asks sternly and his body tenses. Did he not know?

I nod my head against his chest. "For like four years," I laugh sadly. "They did it yesterday in the cemetery," I explain, my sleep starting to take me.

"You were there trying to remember?" He sounds far off and fuzzy. I nod. His pulse picks up and I can tell that he's angry.

I rest my hand on his chest soothingly. "They made me forget meeting Kai yesterday," I explain, my voice getting quieter. "Please don't let me forget this, Jer." At last, I fall asleep.

[nocteverbascio]

Sam and Alex fic idea! Ruby has a soccer game and invited Alex as a thank you for talking to her about Supergirl and ends up getting invited over for dinner at the Arias household afterwards but ends up paying more attention to her mom than to the food~ 😉

this…..turned out so much longer than i expected. i mentioned im a HUGE sucker for single parent AUs right? i am sO ABOUT THIS SHIP like i dont even watch the series anymore but agent reign?? MMM DELIGHTFUL. i took some artistic liberties with this but we all need a good feeling fic right?

1+1=2 (if you want me too)ao3 link

Alex is trained to notice things. It’s part of her job as much as it’s part of her life now. What she seems to notice right now is Sam.

Sam the CFO, the single mom, the friend. There’s a lot going on for Sam and she’s out here doing it on her own. That says a lot to Alex and there’s no higher level of respect that she can have for the woman. But she can also see where Sam does so much that she misses out on some things.

“Hey, I’m so sorry about that,” Sam says as she settles back into the lawn chair next to Alex’s.

“It’s okay,” Alex responds. “Well, it’s okay for me. Ruby scored a few seconds ago off an assist.”

“That’s great!” Sam smiles proudly before cheering for Ruby.

“Ruby was actually looking for you in the crowd. So I don’t know if it’s actually okay.” There’s a small frown on Sam’s face at Alex’s rambling, which makes her feel incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really know how to put that.”

“No, I should be the one that’s sorry,” Sam says with guilt in her voice. “I’m always working on something even before I started at L-Corp and I haven’t been giving Ruby as much attention as I want to. Or as much as I should really.”

Alex stares sympathetically. She unconsciously reaches for Sam’s hand. “I’m sure she understands. You have an important job after all and you’re trying to provide for your family. Once you get into the groove of things, you’ll be able to find some balance.”

Sam glances at Alex’s hand over hers, which makes Alex blush. There was definitely no reason for Alex to be touching Sam, she’s always been respectful of personal space. Just as Alex thinks to pull away, Sam turns to hand to hold Alex’s still. “Thanks for coming,” she says gratefully. “I know that Ruby invited you, but it’s really nice for me to know someone else is also here to support Ruby.”

“Of course,” Alex responds like it’s no big deal. “I’m more than happy to be here.”

After their conversation, Alex notices that Sam only picks up one phone call for the rest of the match and diverts several calls to her voicemail. While the laptop on her lap stays open, she spends more time trying to find Ruby on the field.

“If I have to be honest, now that I’m actually watching the game I have no idea how it actually works. All I know is that Ruby is the center forward.”

Alex laughs a how charmingly clueless Sam explains herself. “I can help explain if you'd like?” she offers.

Sam smiles gratefully. “I would love that because the internet’s vast knowledge cannot explain soccer to me.”

Alex spends the rest of the game explaining the rules and positions as they come up. When a foul comes up against Ruby, Sam gets up to passionately dispute it. It only makes Alex laugh.

After the game is over Alex helps Sam pack up their lawn chair and lunch bag.

Ruby comes trotting over, bouncing with excitement to see Alex still there.

“Congratulations on the game,” Alex says, earning a happy hug from Ruby that nearly knocks her over. She’s caught off guard and looks over at Sam, who is equally surprised.

“Thanks for coming!” Ruby peels herself away before turning to hug her mom. “I saw you yelling and I was really surprised at you mom.”

“Why are you surprised?” Sam kisses the top of her daughter's head.

“I didn't think you knew anything about soccer.”

Alex snickers because Sam tries to fight the offended look off her face and fails terribly.

She scoffs at Ruby and playfully pushes her. “I had an expert explain the game to me,” she pointedly looks at Alex.

Alex feels the heat rush to her cheeks. The way Sam regards her is playful as it is welcoming. She’d mainly been Kara’s and Lena’s friend so she has to admit it feels different when Sam sends playful jabs her way.

Ruby smiles brightly at Alex that it warms her as well.

“Come on,” Sam gathers her laptop bag and Ruby’s duffel. “We can go home and celebrate your win.”

Ruby bites her lip before looking over her shoulder to the rest of the girls on the team. “Actually mom, do you think I can have some of the girls over?”

Sam looks both surprised and it quickly dissolves into a soft smile. “Sure thing, Rubes.”

Ruby looks relieved at her mom's response and instantly looks over at Alex. “Could Alex come over too?”

Alex is surprised now. “I don’t mind,” and they both look to Sam, “as long as you don't mind of course.”

Sam looks hesitant and Alex is about to say it's perfectly fine and make up an excuse to leave, but then she looks at Ruby, who stares at her hopefully. “The more the merrier,” she answers with a smile.

----

When Alex arrives about a half hour later because she said she’d stop to get some wine for the adults, Sam opens the door looking flushed and out of breath.

“Hey!” Sam greets, trying to catch her breath.

Alex glances Sam up and down. She’s still wearing the same clothes as earlier, but her hair is slightly mussed, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“Hey?” Alex greets. “Is this a bad time?”

Sam’s eyes widen at her state. Her face is adorable and Alex can’t hold back a smile. “I’m so sorry.” She moves to let Alex into the house. “We don’t usually have company, so I sometimes let the house get a little disarray. But Ruby’s been making friends, better friends, and I just wanted to make sure everything is clean and ready for the girls.”

Alex enters the house, not entirely sure what to expect. To her surprise, the living room looks immaculate. There’s no dust, there’s no stains or dirt, everything is neatly organized. “Wow, this is such a mess,” she jokes sarcastically.

Sam lets out a light laugh in response. “I cleaned the living room first, which was a mistake because I spent way too much time and forgot about the other rooms in this house. I’m really sorry, you have to see this.”

Alex quirks her head. “It’s fine, Sam. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is.”

“That’s really sweet of you Alex, but I have a stack of dishes and a stove to clean. Not to mention, I’m not sure if I bought enough drinks for the girls or snacks. Shoot! Snacks!”

The spiral that Sam starts manifesting very physically. Alex can see the pulse throbbing at Sam’s neck (not that she’s been staring, it’s just noticeable---her pulse not her neck) and the thin lines on her forehead as she starts to stress. She walks quickly as well, not realizing that she’s been leading Alex towards kitchen, one of the places she actually doesn’t want a guest to witness.

Just as she steps in, Sam does realize that Alex has been following her. She turns so quickly on her heels in the doorway that Alex doesn’t have time to stop and bumps right into her.

Suddenly, their faces are extremely close and their bodies would be pressed against each other, if it weren’t for the wine bottle. Not that the wine bottle helped much because the back of Alex’s hands grasping the neck is pressed into Sam’s chest. Alex usually has better reflexes that that.

“I’m sorry! Maybe, you should stay in the living room? Ruby will be done with her shower soon and it’s in a much better state than this,” Sam says quickly, completely unbothered by their lack of personal space.

Alex has the decency to take a step back, so she can breathe as well. She peers around Sam’s slim shoulders and sees the mess that she’s mortified of. She gets it. There are a surprisingly number of glasses and mugs littered across the counter and island for a household of two. She spies the leaning tower of dishes that are spilling onto the counter as well. It’s more than enough she needs to observe.

“Take this,” Alex holds out the wine bottle for Sam.

Sam takes it with confusion. Alex peels off her leather jacket and hands it to Sam. “What’re you--”

Alex takes step around Sam to get through the small doorway. “I’m going to help you, duh,” she rolls up her sleeves. “You might want to be a good host and put that wine on ice for us.”

Sam stares dumbly. “What? No, you’re my guest.”

“Lucky for you, I am one of the good kind of guests,” Alex says over her shoulder as she opens up the dishwasher. It’s completely empty. “Come on, don’t just stand there. You have a bunch of adolescent girls coming over.” She smiles at Sam, raising her eyebrows playfully.

Sam laughs to herself. “You are incredible. ”

----

They work together. And after Sam’s initial hesitation in letting Alex help, she relaxes visibly. Alex can see the tension slide off of her shoulders as Alex rinses the dishes to load into the dishwasher before, while Sam sweeps around her. They fall into a coordinated dance almost because Alex can tell when Sam is near and moves her hips and feet around for Sam to do her thing when she starts cleaning the counters. Sam is very insistent that she cleans the stove though, not that it bothers Alex. Alex finds a way to make herself useful.

“So food?” Alex asks.

“I ordered pizza, fries, and wings. I might have over ordered but they’re growing so it’ll be fine.”

“Plates and utensils?”

“In the top cabinet next to the fridge.”

Alex moves to pull them out and sets them down on the island. She turns to the fridge. “You mentioned drinks?” She opens it up and finds a moderately empty fridge. “No drinks?”

It dawns on Sam. “Oh god, I must’ve left them in the car.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Ruby asks as she enters the kitchen. Her hair is still slightly damp, but she’s clean and out of her soccer uniform.

Sam immediately looks to her daughter. “I might’ve left the drinks and snacks in the car, do you mind grabbing those?”

Ruby nods. “Sure thing, mom.”

“I’ll help,” Alex offers, following Ruby out the back door.

Ruby grabs the keys and leads Alex outside. “Have you been helping my mom this entire time?”

“Yep.”

“I’m surprised she let you,” Ruby says as she pops open the trunk to the car in the driveway. “She kind of hates getting help from anyone that’s---you know, not me.”

“I kind of insisted,” Alex admits, feeling a bit sheepish. “Should I not have?”

“Part of me says no because she has like a method to her madness, but I really appreciate it.” Ruby pushes open the trunk and both of them find the bags.

Alex holds out her hands to help grab things and like her mother, Ruby doesn’t realize that Alex is actually there to help. There’s a surprised look on her face before she smiles and thanks her.

Alex and Ruby spend their time unloading the snacks and drinks talking about the game and Supergirl, while Sam works around them, making sure that everything that’s listed on her mind has been checked off. Just as she does that, Alex can’t help but smile because she sees Sam slowly relax; she gets to take a long breath just as the food arrives.

“Mom, you ordered for an army!”

“You are growing, you need all the food you can get.”

“But we’re not boys.”

“Does that mean you can’t eat?”

Ruby opens her mouth only to shut it and Sam stands there is a shit eating grin at her daughter. Alex laughs at their interaction.

Not long after the food arrives, several of Ruby’s teammates start to show up. They end up with a lot more snacks and food than they intended because some of them also contribute chips and dips leaving Sam overwhelmed.

----

“You and Ruby have a great relationship,” Alex says when they have a minute to hide in the kitchen. Well, Ruby ushers them out out once the girls start playing some board games and switch. Sam isn’t offended, giving her daughter some space but leaving her with a look to let her know immediately if something is wrong. Alex can’t help but notice the way Ruby nods seriously to her mom with a furtive glance over her shoulder.

Sam smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “We try.” She pulls out wine glasses from the cabinet before going to the fridge for the wine.

Alex takes a seat at the kitchen island and stares. “You’re a great mom, Sam.”

Sam raises her eyebrows and lets out a sarcastic, “Suuure.”

“You are.”

Sam opens her mouth to say something but instead she turns around to the drawer to pull out a wine opener.

“What?” Alex asks curiously. “Ruby loves you to pieces.”

Sam turns around with a small sigh. She clasps the wine opener between her hands, fiddling with it as she speaks. “If I’m being honest, sometimes I feel like she’s the one taking care of me.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Alex tries.

Sam tilts her head, raising her eyebrows. “She’s a kid. She should just be a kid. She’s growing up too quickly. I feel like that’s my fault. I try to make sure she has everything she needs to be a kid but then some mornings I turn around to see her give me a piece of toast because I forgot to eat breakfast.”

Alex looks at Sam sympathetically. “It’s not a bad thing to take care of each other,” she reminds carefully. “It’s what family does.”

“Alex…” Sam doesn’t look like she believes her.

Alex stands up and meets her. “Have you forgotten that when Kara and I were teenagers, I lost my dad?”

“I’m sorry,” she lets out with guilt.

Alex smiles with reassurance. “It was hard for all of us. My mom had to take care of the two of us all on her own and she wasn’t the best mother all the time. Most of the time, Kara and I took care of each other and sometimes we took care of her too. There were plenty of cold meals my mom would have to eat if she got home late from the lab.”

Sam smiles down at the wine opener in her hands, clearly thinking of a similar memory. Alex ducks to meet Sam’s eyes. Sam’s eyes meet hers and Alex can’t help but be mesmerized by the shimmering hazel color.

“The point is,” Alex says lightly, plucking the wine opener from Sam’s hand, fingers brushing very briefly that she feels a spark of electricity between them. She ignores it and turns to grab the bottle of wine. “Family is about taking care of each other. And it never hurts to have a helping hand every once in awhile.” She turns the corkscrew with ease and pops it out that it surprises Sam.

Sam bites her lips thoughtfully at Alex. “I might not always be receptive to your helpfulness, just to let you know. You caught me off guard today.” She reaches for the bottle of wine and her fingers close around Alex’s unconsciously.

Alex feels her throat dry because they’re close again. And once again, their in physical contact. “I don’t mind it at all,” she lets out softer than she intends to. She manages a small smile to lighten the mood.

Sam peels the bottle of wine out of Alex’s hand and glances at her while she pours their glasses. “I hope you know that I am very thankful for everything you’ve done for me to today.” She hands Alex a glass and picks up her own. She holds it in her hand as does Alex, because their eyes meet once more and they stand still. And just stare.

Alex hasn’t realizes how much of Sam she’s noticed throughout the day, but looks beautiful when she smiles without a care in the world, even though it’s short lived.

“Mom?”

Both of them turn their attention to Ruby standing in the doorway with a curious look on her face.

Sam clears her throat. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“We were going to start playing Mario Kart and wanted to know if either of you wanted to play?”

Sam smiles. “You know I’m terrible at that game.” There’s a small pout at Ruby’s lips at the mild rejection.

“Yeah and you shouldn’t be drinking and driving,” Alex jokes stepping backwards to go to Ruby. “Come on, I totally crush it at that game.” She throws an arm around Ruby’s shoulder comfortably and guides her back to the living room, throwing a glance over her shoulder. She tilts her head, encouraging Sam to follow at least.

“You’re going to regret saying that,” Sam adds, grabbing the bottle of wine and following them.

----

At the end of the night when all of the girls are gone, it’s Sam and Ruby once more. Alex stays behind offering help to clean up. Sam is bamboozled when Ruby grabs onto Alex’s arm and starts directing her the minute she offers. There’s a gentle narrowing of her eyes, but she knows Ruby wants her mom to relax. Alex doesn’t mind it at all because she wants the same thing.

Sam cleans up the kitchen while Alex and Ruby clean the living room. She boils water and makes tea for Alex. Ruby oddly enough asks to go to her room to clean up because unlike her mother, she hadn’t decided on cleaning her private space. Alex and Sam stay in the kitchen, drinking tea and chatting about work. A brief moment where Alex can see that Sam, despite a mild derision of how much she has to work, she actually enjoys it. She finds it just as fulfilling when something goes the way its intended as much as she loves Ruby.

“Thanks for today,” Alex finds herself saying as she steps out onto the porch.

Sam shakes her head. “Thank you,” she emphasizes as she steps out, closing the door behind her. “Having you here today was really nice. You are really good with kids.”

Alex tries not to preen but she’s happy to hear that. “I’m glad you say that. I hope one day I’ll be a good mom like you.”

“Well if you ever want a kid, you can always have mine,” Sam jokes glancing back at her house.

Alex’s eyes widen because she knows it’s a joke but....

Sam quickly catches on.Her gently tan cheeks turn pink and it’s barely noticeable under the porch light, but Alex notices with how closely they’re standing. “I meant--Ruby. If you ever want to take my kid away, you could. Well, not like indefinitely, but if you ever wanted to hang out.” She stumbles over her words so quickly that Alex doesn’t feel awkward anymore. She laughs to catch Sam of spiraling once more. There’s a beautiful laugh from Sam as she tries to regain her composure. She facepalms herself before looking at Alex. “I usually wait for the third date to mention kids, so clearly I’m out of practice.”

Alex lets out an incredulous laugh. “Are you saying that this was a date?”

Sam blushes. Honest to god, blushes at the mention. Alex thought she was a nervous mess more than half of the time, but Sam seems to outdo her tonight unexpectedly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have--I mean, we spent the day together, doing all this domestic stuff, and now we’re standing on my porch like the end of a romcom.”

Alex takes a breath. She’s noticed a lot of things about Sam today. Probably more than she should be privy to, but none of which she minds. And she tries to be calm, instead of a nervous wreck for Sam’s sake. “If this was a romcom, I’d kiss you goodnight and hop on my motorcycle while you watch me ride off,” she jokes in return.

Sam bites her lip and stops breathing. Alex can tell by the way her chest stops moving. Her eyes trail down, subtly, to Alex’s lips. Her eyes dart back up to meet Alex’s. Just as she leans in, the porch light flickers and they look up before they see the curtain move.

“Ruby,” Sam breathes out in disbelief.

Alex rubs the back of her neck nervously. “I should get going,” she offers, trying to make the situation easier for Sam.

Sam swallows with a nod. “Ride back safely.”

Alex nods in agreement before turning to step off the porch. “If you ever need me to spend time with Ruby while you’re busy with work, I’d be more than happy to,” she offers over her shoulder. "You're missing out on the best years of adulthood."

Just as Alex reaches the bottom of the steps, she feels a tug at her hand and turns to find Sam standing before her. Before she can even react, Sam’s hand comes up to cup her cheek and the same between them disappears when their lips press together. Of all the things she noticed about Sam today, Alex commits to memory how soft and pliant Sam’s lips are as they kiss. Sam knows how to kiss. Out of practice? Alex doesn’t think twice of that as she kisses Sam back. Their lips easily slide against each others in concert. Alex hand comes up to cup Sam’s warm cheek.

It starts so quickly, Alex expects it to end the same, but Sam pulls back slowly, drawing Alex towards her. It doesn’t register in her mind that they’ve stopped kissing until she has to breathe in.

“Wha--”

“Maybe when I’m not busy, you can spend time with me too,” Sam suggests, biting the corner of her lip as she smiles shyly. She glances up and down Alex before letting her go.

Alex stands in awe as her heart races inside of her. “I’d be more than happy to.” The smile on her face grows infinitely larger.

Sam walks back to her door and Alex walks over to her motorcycle, thumb brushing her lips. She mounts her bike and looks over to see Sam lingering at the door. Then she realizes what Sam’s waiting for. She smiles at Sam before pulling on her helmet.

Alex turns on her motorcycle and kicks off the stand. She gives one last look to Sam waving goodbye to her before riding off into the night.

Just like a romcom.

[sakurablossomstorm-blog]

“Better get your dad jokes ready,” “Come watch my belly; it’s frickin’ crazy!” and/or “Watermelon with peanut butter sounds so great right now.” :)

Here you go! Sorry they took forever for me to do!

~~

“Better get your dad jokes ready”

She was pregnant.

Leslie Barbara Knope was pregnant.

She couldn’t think of anything else. Not the fact that they just got one of the best bands that ever graced the stages of Indiana to play at the Unity Concert, or the fact that Andy was still thinking that they were getting a dog as well as having a baby. No, she was just thinking about the baby growing inside of her.

A hand carefully skimmed the top of her still nauseous stomach. She wasn’t sure how far along she would be. Maybe a few weeks? It was hard to tell, she had been so busy she hadn’t noticed the lack of her period.

Leslie sighed and looked back at the copy of Time Magazine she was reading. She was so desperately trying to take her mind off the fact that she hadn’t heard from Ben in hours, and the last time they spoke it sounded like he was having a stroke.

She knew that he had gone to the winery with the others, so she could only assume he was currently absolutely trashed. Ben and wine did not go well together. He’d usually be a bit burry eyed after two small glasses.

What about the baby? What if he was so drunk tonight that she couldn’t tell him about the baby in fears that he wouldn’t remember in the morning. God she hoped he’d be sober by the time he got back. She wanted this to be a wonderful moment with crying and emotional, heartfelt talks. Not Ben being sloppy drunk.

Plus she had full custody of the toilet tonight. If Ben needed to puke he would have to wait for her morning sickness to subside. She had priority.

She pursed her lips. What if he came back sober, and fine. How would she tell him? Should she just scream it at him when he walked through the door? Should she say ‘you better get your dad jokes ready’ in hopes that he’d understand?

She smirked and giggled. Ben would be that dad who would deliberately embarrass their child whenever he could. He made terrible puns and jokes all the time. She could imagine a blonde hair boy groaning and face palming at his accounting puns or a brunette haired girl shaking her head and grimacing at a terrible knock-knock joke.

Their child, their beautiful child. Boy or girl, it didn’t matter. It would never matter. All she wanted was a healthy baby. She had no doubts that Ben would be upset or angry about the surprise pregnancy. They had been trying not ten months ago, then the recall election kind of screwed over their chances. They were ready, more than ready in fact.

She was so engrossed with thoughts she didn’t notice Ben staggered through the doorway, his hair mussed and his usually clean suit was covered in dirt. When she did glance up finally, she didn’t notice the mud all over him, or the purple bags under his eyes. She just saw him, and a rush of affection bolted through her.

“Oh my god, Ben. I have so much to tell you!” Leslie said excitedly, standing up from the couch. “We got Land Ho to play at the Unity Concert”

She trailed off as she finally took in his appearance. The dirt clothes, the strange look on his face that Leslie recognised like he was having an epiphany.

Oh god he was steaming drunk.

“Whoa, what happened to you?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

“It doesn’t matter” Ben quickly said, taking her hands and sitting her back down on the couch. His hands felt weirdly sticky and he smelt of earth and blueberries.

“I thought I was upset because my parents are insane, but Ron kind of just showed me the real reason. I have so many childhood memories at that lakehouse and in the back of my mind I always pictured taking my kids or taking our kids there” Ben babbled frantically.

She didn’t miss the small smile that crept over his face.

“I want to start our family,” he continued, a warmth spreading across his face. “I mean, I know things are crazy but there’s no good time, and I want to do it, now.”

Leslie was smiling, kind of out of relief to realise that he wasn’t as wasted as she originally thought, but also out of happiness, because the love of her life just confessed that he wanted to start a family, right here, right now. And little did he know that they were already well under way with that plan.

Her eyes met his, and she felt her heart blossoming with love for Ben and their unborn child. “Well, buddy. I’ve got some good news for you.”

She didn’t have to say anything else. Ben knew. The hopeful look on his face turned into a knowing smile, and all Leslie could do was nod in confirmation.

They were having a baby.

~~

“Come watch my belly; it’s frickin’ crazy”

Leslie stared intently at her pregnant belly, watching in amusement as it practically danced in front of her.

She had two weeks to go before her c-section. And was more than ready to get these babies out of her. She wanted to hug and kiss them, and for them to stop kicking her bladder at all hours of the day.

But right now, she watched with fascination as her babies kicked wildly, causing the skin to squirm every now and then.

“Babe, come here” she called.

She heard footsteps walking down the hall and Ben soon appeared in the doorway.

“What?”

“Come watch my belly; it’s frickin’ crazy!” she announced, beckoning him over.

“What’s going on?” Ben asked, climbing onto his side of the bed and propping himself up against the headboard next to Leslie.

“Look” she said again, pointing to the top right of her belly. Sure enough, the skin rippled again, and Ben let out a surprised chuckled.

“Is that them kicking? Does that not hurt?” Ben asked, rubbing the spot where one of their babies had kicked.

“Not really” Leslie said. “I think they are planning a jail break, though. I think they’re sick of being in there, all cramped up together.”

Ben chuckled again and kissed her belly. “Two more weeks, kids” he said into her belly.

He sat up and they both watched the kicks from their triplets. Ben lovingly rubbing every spot where a foot or a hand appeared.

“I mean, this is crazy. It’s amazing, of course, but your stomach literally looks like that scene from Alien. I’m half expecting one of them to come bursting out of your stomach” Ben said as he continued to watch in awe.

Leslie giggled, “give me two weeks and that will actually be happening to me, blood and everything.”

Ben grimaced. “I think I’d rather stay up top with your pretty face,” he said, kissing her lips, his hand still rubbing her stomach.

~~

“Watermelon with peanut butter sounds so good right now”

Set in the ‘Apartment 7C’ universe.

Leslie was lying on the couch, reading chapter 6 of ‘The Healthy Pregnancy Book’ and disagreeing with every paragraph about the importance of eating vegetables when you are pregnant, when her stomach rumbled loudly.

She sat up a little and frowned, looking at the clock on the wall. It was way past lunchtime and she hadn’t eaten since about four hours ago when Ben made her chocolate and banana pancakes.

Ben was sat at the desk not too far away. He had been at his new job for about two months now and had been working so hard, even today on a Sunday he was typing away at his laptop, taking phone calls and booking interviews for Hartwell’s congressional campaign.

He was her amazing, taut, elf-like fiancé. And he worked so hard, a little too hard to note have noticed that his baby mama was going hungry.

She looked back at the book for a brief second, looking at a picture of a watermelon and licked her lips. Okay, watermelon sounded really good right now.

Watermelon…with peanut butter.

Leslie was salivating at the thought. She folded the page of the book and got up from the couch, walking over to Ben’s desk and leaning against it slightly.

His eyes shifted from the computer to her and a soft smile spread across his face. “Hi. Are you okay?”

“I’m great” Leslie said, “but I’m hungry. So hungry.”

Ben looked at his watch and his eyes widened. “Good lord, sorry I didn’t realise what time it was.” Since announcing her pregnancy, Ben had refused to let her cook anything or as so much lift a finger. He insisted that he prepared all her meals for her, no matter how busy he was. She just got into the habit now of telling him that she was hungry.

“What do you want?” Ben asked, closing his laptop lid and leaning on the back of his chair.

“Well, it’s going to sound weird but…watermelon with peanut butter sounds so great right now” Leslie said, stressing her words.

Ben looked a little confused, but shook his head with a chuckle. He pressed his cheek to her small bump and kissed it several times, rubbing his thumb across it.

“Why are you making your mama crave weird food?” he said into her belly, and Leslie laughed softly.

“I’m just relieved I’m not craving calzones,” Leslie said as Ben stood up.

“Yet” Ben said, pointing a finger at her bump. “That kid is a Wyatt, give it time. I guarantee you will be begging for me to make you a calzone.”

Leslie cackled as Ben pulled on his coat. He gave her a kiss goodbye and one last kiss to her belly before walking out of the door. Leslie smiled softly and walked back to the couch, putting her feet on the coffee table and opening the book again.

Her stomach rumbled again, and she frowned.

Crap. They had spoken about calzones so much that all she could now think about was a folded pizza, with tangy marinara sauce and perfectly seasoned meat…

“Fuck” she hissed, grabbing her phone and calling Ben.

“Hey, babe? Is it too late to change my order?” She asked, gnawing at her thumb.