#and so now I’m shaking from lack of food but it just feels like anxiety lmao

[boomerang109]

not to be bitter but i’m bitter

[rottingworship]

Beg and Bargain

The Proxies x Fem!Reader | Chapter Two

Chapter One

Summary: Tim takes you to your apartment for some essentials, you begin to spill your guts on how you ended up in this situation. Your priorities still aren't straight.

A/N: I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure (real). Also, while I personally (currently) don't write super, duper dark stuff... This will definitely still be toxic. just a warning.

Warnings: murder, name calling (bitch, cunt), gun violence, your best friend and ex have names, you are the cause of a murder, your ex tried to murder you, no use of y/n, not beta'd, flashbacks (please let me know if i forgot something!)

Word Count: 2.9k (o.o)

You are sitting in a car, bloody, dirty, and shoeless. You are staring dead ahead with a look of fear on your face. You fiddle with the hem of your bloodied sweater and deeply inhale. Your stomach is feeling sick again, and you can’t tell if it’s from lack of food or the fact that Brian and Toby thought it would be best to blindfold you to get you out of the woods.

“Can’t have you knowing where you are, at least for now.” Brian told you.

You sat in the car, breathing heavily from anxiety. Not being able to see kind of makes you powerless. You had waited patiently for Tim to tell you to take the blindfold off.

“You can take that off now,” Tim had said, smirking, you could hear it.

Now, you are just sitting. “I don’t know why they blindfolded me,” You cross your arms. “Not like I could find that place again even if my life depended on it.” Let’s hope it doesn’t. You want to cry again. The feeling hits you out of nowhere. You refrain from it.

“Are we close?” Tim asks. You can’t tell if he’s trying to get your mind off of everything or get his mind off of something.

“Oh, yeah,” You snort, feeling silly. “Take a right up here. Then you’ll see an apartment complex.” Tim follows your instructions, and you see it. “Yeah, that one right there. I don’t think there are any others, so it’s kinda obvious…” You trail off. He pulls up and you give him the code to get in.

“This place is nice…” Tim takes the place in.

“Yeah,” You look at the parking lot, “especially for this little town, huh?” You are on edge. You are looking for someone’s car, Tim seems to be able to clock that from a mile away.

“Who are you looking for?” He suddenly sounds stern.

You give him an awkward, nervous smile. “I don’t live alone…” His jaw clenches. “She’s not here though! She works first shifts, and I don’t see her car.” You reassure him. Tim nods, parking the car. You realize you have to walk across the pavement to the apartments. You sigh. “Can you, like, drop me off at the door?”

“No.” Tim shakes his head. “I can carry you?” He offers.

You shake your head. You suck in air, sighing. “I’ll just walk and get sick.” Tim does not respond. He doesn’t find it amusing it would seem. You get out of the car and the cold concrete can be felt through the bandages on your feet. You want to hurry towards the building but know you can’t. Your feet and legs burn already. Maybe you should have taken Tim up on that offer…

No one seems to be in the lobby when you walk in. Tim seems on edge. You walk towards the elevator and Tim stops in his tracks. You turn to him. “No, we are not taking the stairs. I’m hurt and I live on the fourth floor.” Tim doesn't want to argue. Maybe he feels bad for you, maybe he just doesn’t want to cause a scene. You can’t tell. You both enter the elevator and lean back against the railing. You look up at the mirror on the ceiling and realize just how fucked up you look. You see a leaf in your hair. You pull it out.

Tim groans, “Sorry, Toby said he got all of those out. I told him I’d do it, but he insisted on being the one to pull all the twigs and leaves out of your hair.”

“How sweet.” You deadpan.

The elevator stops and the both of you make your way out. You lead Tim down the hallway and to your apartment. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“I don’t have my key.”

Tim looks uneasy.  You try to think of a way to get in and the door swings open. You let out a short scream and jump into Tim. He grunts and steadies you.

“What are you doing at home? And… You’re with a man?”

“Val!” You whisper, “you’re supposed to be at work!” You speak through gritted teeth.

Val’s eyes look over you and they widen. You tense. Tim’s hand goes to the small of your back immediately. She wants to pull you into the apartment, her hand twitches. You see her gears turning. You suck in air through your nose, jaw clenched.

“Can we come in?” You ask.

As you say ‘we’ Val’s eyes move to Tim. She is frozen. After a short moment of awkward silence, Val moves to the side. You rush in, Tim hot on your trail. Val closes the door and places her back to it.

“Can I-”

“No,” you respond before she can say anything. “I’m just here to collect some things. I’m still on vacation.” You reassure her.

“You packed before you left.” She states it, her eyes not leaving Tim. She can see how bloody you are, and how clean Tim is. She is obviously connecting dots that something is wrong, and completely off.

“I know love,” Your voice suddenly changes, Tim notices it. “Do not worry about me.” Val nods, her eyes glazing over. “I’m just here to grab some shoes and some essentials. I promise, everything is okay,” You lie.

“Everything is okay…” She responds. Her voice is monotone. She turns and goes to her room.

You turn away from Tim and walk towards your room. You grab a duffle bag, the only bag you hadn’t taken on vacation, and begin to fill it. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes. You quickly wipe your eyes and try to sniffle quietly.

“Are you crying?” Tim asks softly, but still completely on edge.

“No.” You snap. You walk to your bathroom, Tim close behind you still. “Can you get off my ass?” You mumble. Tim shakes his head, you see it from the corner of your eye. You turn around and narrow your eyes. You cross your arms and look at him. “I promised Val I’d never fucking do that to her!” Your voice is dangerously low. “And I just- I just did…” You break.

“Are you-” Tim starts. He doesn’t finish. He knows whatever he’s about to say is going to set you off a little more.

“I’m fucking terrified…” You are crying; trying to keep from sobbing. “I don’t know what’s going on, what’s going to happen-” You stop yourself. You wipe your face again and let out a guttural groan. You turn from Tim and grab some of the things around the bathroom. You throw face wash, a toothbrush, deodorant, body wash, tampons, and some hair care into your bag. You aren’t sure how long you’ll be gone. You are preparing for the worst.

You go back to your bed and sit down. You look at the different shoes and grab the most comfortable pair of sneakers and then a pair of socks. You look down at your feet. You examine the somewhat bloody and definitely dirty bandages.

“They need to be redone.” Tim clocks his tongue. “The bandages.”

No shit. You refrain from saying something stupid. “I’ll just- We can redo these later. I need to get the fuck outta here.” You slide an old pair of Crocs on and shove the shoes and socks in your bag. In all, you had grabbed a couple outfits, some essentials (that probably shouldn’t have been priority), and most importantly, shoes. You throw the bag over your shoulder and walk by Tim and out of your room.

“I’m leaving!” You shout to Val. “I love you!”

“I love you!” She replies, a little more joyous than how she sounded earlier. But she still doesn't sound… Normal.

You walk back towards the elevator. You and Tim step in and you notice him staring at you. You give him a funny look. “You didn't change your clothes. Didn't you wanna do that?” He furrows his brows.

“After I shower. I need to scrub this dirt and blood off of me.” Tim stares at you harder as you smash the ground floor button. “What?”

“You don't wanna shower at your apartment?”

“Didn't know that was an option… I was just hoping that ‘Toby’s place’ has hot water.” Your use of air quotes makes Tim laugh. You aren't sure if that’s reassuring or not. You let it go.

“It does. Probably not for long. But it does.” 

You nod. You make your way back out to the parking lot and into the car. You throw your bag in the back seat and sit back up front. You look down at the blindfold and back at Tim. “Do I need to–”

“Not yet.” He shifts in his seat. You nod and bite the inside of your lip. “Your roommate… she knows about your–”

“Yes.” You cut him off. “She knows about my ability.” Duh. “She thinks I’d never use it on her…”

“You never have?” He asks, his voice genuine and curious.

“No!” You shake your head. “Not until just a bit ago! I had never really, um– I never used it for anything bad until last night.”

Tim's grip on the steering tightens. “What do you mean ‘bad’.”

“Well, I really just did little things. Mostly when I would drink… I haven't drank in a while though. But last night– I wasn't drinking, I was minding my own business and I– I did what I had to do! I did the only thing I could do!”

“What did you do?” You know he's trying to get information, really. What else would he be doing? But you're emotional and about to bust from keeping everything to yourself.

“He had a gun! He was gonna shoot me!” You are panicking, recounting it. You are remembering too well.

_-_-_-_-_

You were in the middle of the woods. Your eyes were wide and full of fear.

“Do not think about it, bitch!”

“Please, John!” You begged. “I'm not– I won't tell anyone. I'll do anything– please…”

“Anything?” He questioned you. You nodded. “Aw,” he feigns sadness, “now you wanna be a slut? Too bad. Should’a thought about that when we were together.”

You stared in horror. “John. You have a great life! You are literally doing what you've always wanted! Being private investigator–”

“Do not use that magic on me, witch bitch!”

“What are you– What do you mean?” You were shocked to your core.

“I heard about what you can do. I had to come back to see for myself. Y'know, it makes sense. The free drinks at the bar? Thought it was just ‘cause of the way you dressed. But thinking about it, you definitely had those bartenders in a fucking trance, huh?” You were stunned. “Also, the fact you made me leave you alone when you didn't wanna–”

That struck a chord. “I never used that on you!”

John's eyes darkened and his smile widened. That was all the evidence he needed. You wanted to kick yourself. His hand moved to the gun on his hip and you let out a shout before he was on top of you covering your mouth. The both of you tussled briefly, but you ended up on the floor. The gun was pressed to your temple. You began to cry. Hard.

“Oh, shut up cunt.” He growled out. “I should make you suffer. For all the things you've done… I'm nice though, I promise this will be quick.”

You began to panic. His hand moved from your mouth and he steadied himself over you. You used that to your advantage.

“Get off of me.” Your voice did not break. Your eyes locked with his. His eyes glazed over and he moved off of you.

“No!”

You furrowed your brows at John. Most people did not break away that fast. He pointed the gun at you again.

“Stop. Put the gun down.” He listened. “I do not want to hurt you. Please leave and just forget about this.” You plead with him. “I'm not using my ‘magic’, just leave.”

John screamed, frustrated and infuriated. “Are you mocking me!?” The gun is pointed back at you again.

Fuck, I'm gonna have to– “Put the gun to your head.” You knew you couldn't look away. Not if you wanted it to work.

“Stop!” He was beginning to beg. “You will regret this!”

“Then leave!” You shouted.

“I can't let you go!” He was forceful.

You still had a grip on him. The gun was still against his temple. “Put your finger on the trigger.” Tears brimmed your eyes. What the fuck am I doing? You felt incredibly sick and confused. You did not want to die, but you also did not want to kill him.

“Please! I’ll leave!” His voice broke.

You held back a sob. You knew that wasn’t true. He was lying. He was going to kill you.

“Pull the trigger.”

As soon as his finger pulled it, you looked away, a strangled scream escaping you. You hit the ground and let out a loud wail. You had just been the cause of death to someone you once loved.

_-_-_-_-_

You bring yourself back to reality, “He was gonna kill me!” You can’t breathe. You’re gripping your chest and gasping. Tim’s hands are tight on the steering wheel. “I didn’t have a choice! He knew, and if I didn’t-”

“How many people know?” Tim seems concerned.

“Only Val! I thought… but she wouldn’t tell anyone. Especially John. He was always-” You cut yourself off and make some hand motions. “Kinda off. She knew that! But he still knew… Said I was gonna regret it if I killed him…”

“Sorry,” Tim cuts you off. “Gotta blindfold you now.” He pulls over on the side of the road, seemingly feeling some type of why about your outburst of sadness. You can’t pick up on it. You nod and he grabs the blindfold, asking you to turn for him. You oblige. You seem to always oblige. “Why were you in the woods? When Toby found you?”

“Oh,” You huff, “just blindfold me and act like nothing is weird about that…” You decide to continue anyway. “John took me out there. Said something about, I don’t know, showing me something? He was too strong to even fight against anyway. And I kinda knew I could get away if needed… Didn’t expect that though.”

There is silence. Tim doesn’t seem to have any more questions. You breathe in steadily, trying to ignore the fact you are blindfolded in a car with a man you still really do not know. Realizations are hitting left and right, and there is nothing you can do. Not at the moment.

The car begins to slow down and comes to a halt. You sit there. Tim unbuckles, you hear it. You wait for instruction on what to do next. Tim picks up on that.

“Hold on,” he says, opening his door, “I’ll help you out. I’m gonna grab your bag.” His door closes and the door behind you opens. You hear rustling and the door shuts. Your door opens and a hand grabs your bicep, and you are pulled from the car. You duck down, and a hand touches your head, keeping you from bonking it on the car.

Tim steadies you and begins to walk forwards, leading you towards what you hope is the cabin. You really hope he brought you back to the cabin. When you hear leaves crunching ahead of you, you only grow more tense.

“Wh-what are you wearing!?” Toby is ahead of you, seeming to be dying of laughter.

You gasp. “Toby! I’m wearing my crocs!”

“And your bl-bloody clothes!” He laughs harder.

You just cannot win. You move to take your blindfold off and freeze. Your fingers are holding the tied part, and your breathing is slow.

“You can take it off.” Brian speaks up. You listen. You take it off fast and you’re ready to run for Toby, again. “I wouldn’t.” Brian warns, “You remember what happened this morning.”

He has a point. You hate it, but he has a point… You look over at Tim. “Thanks for carrying that. I’m gonna head inside and shower.” You grab the bag and smile as you thank him. “You have hot water?” You look at Toby. When he shrugs, you let out a guttural groan.

“J-just fucking with y-you. I do, b-but the hot wa-water heater isn’t th-that great.”

You want to swing on him. You do not. You nod and trudge inside. You know Tim is going to tell them everything that happened. You do not care. You just want to shower. You get into the bathroom and place your bag down. You pull out your new clothes and place them on the sink and look at the shower.

You do not know how this one works…

You let out a little cry and walk back out of the bathroom and onto the front porch. “Hey!” You shout at the three of them. “I need help!”

“Showering?” They all say in unison.

“No!” You stomp your foot, “I need help starting it…” You feel stupid.

“Oh,” Toby walks up to the porch and right past you, towards the bathroom. He easily starts it and leaves. He says nothing else. You want to die. You close and lock the door.

“This is going to suck…” You begin to unwrap your feet. You don’t even know what sucks more. Your situation or the way your feet are going to burn in that water.

When you get in, you decide in the moment, it’s definitely your feet.

[wroteclassicaly]

Imagine Eddie coming to your rescue when your Galentines Day leaves you saddened and feeling sorry for yourself.

You’d planned to spend the day with Robin and Nancy, getting your nails done and having an adult sleepover. Robs had already checked out a plethora of chick flick and horror films from work to binge, with Nancy loading up on snacks and stashing them in the station wagon, and you were in charge of getting pizzas and milkshakes. It was supposed to have gone that way, anyways… Now you’re sitting alone on your dad’s old leather couch, movies and pizzas stacked in front of you, milkshakes melting, nail appointments canceled, while your friends had separated for surprise plans with their significant others.

“Are you sure? I know Jonathan won’t care if I cancel.”

“Nance, you hardly get to see him.”

“Vickie won’t mind either, I’m sure—“

“Hey, I’m not gonna break, babes. I get it, okay? You go spend some time with your guy and girl. I’ll just watch some movies and chill. I need some me time anyways.”

You’d wanted to give yourself an award for the amount of effort you put into believing that. Hell, you did at first. You were happy for them, you did enjoy solitude sometimes. But you hadn’t told them that you had already paid for everyone’s nails before you canceled, or had the shakes and pizzas in your car. It wasn’t their fault, nor would you ever guilt them.

You planned to eat as much as you could, then sulk, drink a little, and fall into bed with some late night crappy television. What you didn’t bank on is crying over your loneliness and lack of flowers, candy, or even a card from someone. You almost considered calling Steve, but he’d been preparing for a date all week that you knew it wasn’t one he was going to cancel to come he a couch potato with you. Even the kids in your makeshift family had their partners. You snort into a soft sniffle, about ready to throw away your food and make that venture to bed anyways, when a knock clicks across your front door, rasping knuckle bones heavy and persistent.

It’s not a very attractive look, but don’t expect anyone that isn’t your immediate relative, so you wrap your patchwork throw around your shoulders and head for the door, pulling it open against the biting winter wind. Eddie Munson is leaning in your doorway, ringed hand curled into a fist mid-knock, his soft curls billowing out behind him. He’s wrapped in his leather jacket and a pair of white washed jeans, scribbled with an array of doodles. He’s bouncing on his heels and those lips — red from the weather, they curl back to reveal milky white teeth. You stare him down for what feels like minutes, but is merely seconds, and then he’s speaking with an ever present smirk, motioning to your entryway.

“May I cross the threshold, perhaps?”

“Oh.” You shiver, as if your body suddenly remembers the wind chill factor. Or maybe that’s something else. “Yeah, sure. Come on in.”

Eddie slides in beside you and strolls into your living room, immediately seeing the boxes of pizza stacked and steaming. You close the door and wish you could walk out through it and into your embarrassing shame. You join him in record time, curling a sweat pant clad leg beneath you, keeping the blanket wound tightly around your chest. He drops beside you, brow raising. “Not very dressed for the party it looks like you’re expecting.”

He’s meaning the pizza, a teasing banter playing on his lips, but your already emotional state causes you to bow your head. “No party. You’re welcome to them if you’re hungry, or if you know of someone else.”

You really don’t want to think of Eddie’s potential date. It’d be horrific if she choked on a pepperoni. You catch his frown, already wishing you had just ignored the door. He senses your anxiety, he knows that retreating defeat. You’re not at all prepared for his much larger hand to clasp a top yours, squeezing gently.

You’re nearly frozen, his cold hand a sudden shockwave. That and the dozens of Cupid shaped butterflies that are slapping your insides with their glittery wings, leaving Eddie’s magic dust behind. You smile at that notion, Eddie leaning in a bit to try and read you. “There’s a smile. Figured you needed one. You looked like I felt when Wayne’s admirer brought her granddaughter over with some lumpy ass chocolate cake and we all had to sit in the kitchen and talk.”

You can’t fight the chuckle that escapes you, images dancing in your head of Eddie trying to be a polite host, but being irritated and obnoxiously endearing.

“Yeah, yeah. S’ not so funny when it’s not even the granddaughter that blows you kisses, but the old lady every-time she sees me.”

“Maybe don’t be so lovable?” You quirk, letting your blanket slide a few inches, a sudden warmth swelling underneath your cheeks.

“You think I’m lovable, hmm? Look at you. All cuddled up and cute right now. I could… just—“ And he stops himself, staring blankly, your heart rate thrumming rather uncomfortably. You’re about to ask him what his deal is, but he’s finding his speech again and tackles you back onto the couch, with a, “—tickle-attack you!”

“Eddie, get off! Jesus you’re a lanky mother fucker!” You’re trying to shout but it comes out as a series of giggles, his fingertips pressing into your armpits above the blankets, his curls tickling your face each instance he moves from your fight back.

Only once you’re panting and letting him be privy to winning, he eases back. You grip his forearms, however, a boldness, an alarmingly vice finding your heart muscle, stringing it up and attempting to tie it to Eddie’s. You unravel your burrito cocoon, throwing the material over his back and bringing your arms into a wide open spread. The most feather light grin grazes his spectacular mouth, and he’s obliging, wrapping you into his arms and snuggling into your blanket shield with you, cinnamon, Old Spice, the dusty smell of baseboard heaters in his trailer, his camel cigarette smoke lingering in layers, and laundry detergent clinging to his sweater. His body weight is welcomed, his cooling skin like electricity, and your crush is cheering in celebration that you’re cuddling with Eddie Munson.

Little did you know, your Galentine’s dates had purposely sent Eddie over, knowing fate would latch onto the rest.

~*~

Happy Valentine’s Day, loves ❤️🖤

[weareapackofstrays]

A New Kind of Love: Winter Break Bonus Chapter

Genre: Non-Idol college au, slight enemies to lovers (more like they annoy e/o at the start), friends with benefits, smut, angst, romance, drama

Pairing: Minho x F!Reader

Warnings: Mention of divorce

Word Count: 1,567

A New Kind of Love: Winter Break Bonus Chapter Prev | Next

Going home always gives you anxiety so you were honestly relieved when Yuqi asked if she could forgo winter break back home in China and tag along with you instead. Your mom and dad divorced when you were in high school and while you had no issue with their new partners, you still felt like you were adjusting to this new normal. You weren’t sure if you would ever shake off the feeling of walking on eggshells around your family.

After New Year's Eve dinner, you and Yuqi decide to go for a walk around the neighborhood to digest your food. The sun has mostly disappeared now and the air feels humid and warm,  like a summer night. You were starting to miss the cold weather at school. Yuqi notices you're quiet and nudges you for attention.

“Everything okay, babe?” You kick a pine cone and shrug. “You were extra quiet at dinner. Is it your parents?”

“No, thankfully. They seem to be getting along really well actually.” Yuqi hums in agreement. “I’m not sure what’s going on with me honestly.” The streetlights illuminate, capturing your attention briefly. “Maybe I’m just feeling anxious about the start of Spring semester.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Yuqi couldn’t help but wonder if this mood of yours was related to Minho. She decides to finally ask.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you...” Yuqi fidgets with the zipper of her sweater. “Did something happen that night at Max’s party?” You are surprised it took Yuqi this long to ask, but your friend knows better than to force anything out of you. Taking a beat too long to ponder your answer, you’re interrupted by Yuqi’s phone ringing. She grabs it from her back pocket and smiles. 

“Sorry, it’s Jisung. I think he wants to Facetime.”

“Yeah, girl, answer it.” You are happy for the distraction.

Yuqi looks at you before answering her boyfriend’s call. Her expression serious. “We’ll continue this chat after?” You give her an ok. Yuqi quickly brushes her hair with her fingers and dips under a nearby streetlamp for better lighting.

"Hey, my baby! Happy New Year!" Jisung shouts excitedly. 

“Happy New Year, Jiji! How’s the future?” 

“Perfectly adequate.” Despite their distance, you could feel the love radiating between the two of them. Yuqi and Jisung converse for a little while in Korean before switching back to English. 

“What time is it in Seoul?” Yuqi asks. 

“A little after 9 in the morning.”

“So early! Oh, Y/n, is with me by the way!" She turns to you. "Say hi!" You lean into frame and give a quick wave and hello.

"Hey, neighbor!" You return the genuinely happy smile Jisung sends your way. He looks off camera for a moment, mumbling something you can't understand before he pulls a familiar grumpy face onto the screen with him. "Minho hyung is here with me too!" Yuqi gives you a quick glance before saying hello to Minho. He awkwardly waves and greets her, while hesitating to meet your eyes. You notice his ears are turning red and your own cheeks begin to heat at the sight of him. Yuqi gently nudges you to say something. 

"Hey, Minho," you blurt out.

"Hi," is all he can muster. You hadn’t spoken with Minho since the party and everyone left for winter break shortly after. He did send you a text thanks to Jisung giving him your number, but you couldn’t bring yourself to engage. He chalked it up to being in different countries as the excuse for your lack of answer.

Jisung looks at Minho oddly and Yuqi gives you a similar expression. An awkward silence washes over the call and Jisung clears his throat to break it up.

“Okayyy, well we are about to head into a restaurant to meet up with some friends for breakfast. I just wanted to give my baby a quick shout." Yuqi giggles and blows him a kiss. Jisung pretends to catch it through the phone, making you and Minho audibly groan. The two of you walk out of frame and away from your embarrassing friends. Yuqi finally hangs up and runs after you, looping her arm in yours.

Jisung places his phone in his bag and turns to Minho. "Hyung, what was that about?”

“What?” Minho feigns ignorance.

“You and Y/n. You’re acting like 5 year olds on the playground. Just man up and tell her you like her.”

Minho feels himself growing agitated at the young one’s nosiness. “Who said I like her?” He protests. 

Jisung groans and gives up. “Whatever.” The boys walk into the restaurant and spot their friends waiting at a table. Jisung gives them a dramatic greeting while Minho follows behind with his head down. If Jisung really knew how bad Minho had it for you, he’d probably get the rest of his roommates involved and he couldn’t have that. As much as he wanted to get to know you better, you’d never really given him any indication that you were interested in him, other than physically. He was at least 98% certain he annoyed you more than anything else. Though he wasn’t sure what he did to make you feel that way. It was like his entire existence bothered you. Minho wasn’t even sure you were the relationship type anyways. Were you?

-

The plane ride feels longer than usual and you still haven’t been able to quell your anxiousness since winter break began. After Yuqi nods off, you try listening to music, but when that doesn’t work, you grab one of the magazines the airline provided. You flip through it aimlessly before realizing it’s an AARP magazine. Shutting it closed, you turn your attention to the window to admire the clouds instead. They’ve grown thicker with the mix of impending snow, but you can finally make out the familiar sights of campus below you. You’re about to check your phone for the 100th time when the intercom clicks on.

“Folks, this is your Captain speaking. The time is 9:15 AM and we’re about 20 minutes from landing. The temperature is a chilly 19 degrees and there is snow in the forecast. Please return to your seats and buckle up. We will be arriving shortly. Stay warm and thanks for flying with us. Go Lions!”

Yuqi stirs awake. “We’re home?” She blinks as she familiarizes herself with her surroundings again.

“About to be.” 

She claps her hands excitedly while yawning. “I can’t wait to see Jiji!”

“Is he already back from Korea?” You weren’t sure why you were surprised.

Yuqi pulls out her phone to take a look at it. “Not yet. Jisung said he’d be landing a little later this afternoon, but we’re going to get dinner once he’s back.” You notice she’s set her background image as a photo of Jisung making a duck face. 

“Sounds fun.” Your stomach fills with butterflies suddenly. Does that mean Minho will be home soon too? 

The two of you hail a taxi to share once you land. Yuqi chats with the cab driver because she can make friends with a wall so you pull out your phone to text Momo that you’re back on campus. Momo quickly texts back with “👅💦” and you roll your eyes, laughing. You put your phone away as you notice snow flurries start to come down.

When the taxi arrives at Yuqi’s apartment, you step out to help her grab her bags. “Thanks again for coming with me.” You pull her into a hug.

“Anytime, my angel. I’ll call you later, okay?” She squeezes you back and kisses your cheek. 

“Have fun with Jisung tonight. Oh, and tell him I said hello.” She nods and you give her a final wave before climbing back into the taxi to go home.

Finally inside your apartment, you drop your bags on the ground and fall face first into your bed. You inhale the familiar scent of lavender. Your bed tries to tempt you into taking a nap, but you feel a little gross from a day of traveling. After throwing your clothes in the hamper, you walk into your bathroom and turn on the shower head. You stick your hand under the falling water and wait for it to warm up, shivering a little from the exposure. Just as you’re about to step into the shower, you're interrupted by a knock at the door. For a moment you wonder if you misheard and wait for another. 

Knock, knock! 

You hear it clearly this time. Who the heck could be knocking on your door right now? Can’t be Yuqi, right? You take a quick glance at your phone in case you missed a call, but don’t see any. Not even a text. 

Knock, knock!

Finally letting curiosity get the better of you, you walk into your room to grab your robe and wrap it tightly around your middle. The tile of your apartment is cold on your bare feet as you scamper across and make way to the entrance of your apartment. Cautiously, you open your front door and feel your jaw drop when you see the source of the knocking. A beautifully bare faced Minho stands before you. His eyes sweep over your barely clothed form while you try to find words. He takes a step forward and you can hear your heartbeat thump loudly in your ears.          

“Hello, princess.”

MASTERLIST

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

Tag List: @linocz @queenmea604 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

xx

[rainywritesx]

Meeting Stray Kids

Synopsis: You’re Bang Chan’s girlfriend, and he has been wanting you to meet the rest of Stray Kids for a while. Today finally was the day, and to say you were nervous was probably an understatement

I wasn’t completely sure if I wanted to post this because I’m not very confident in my writing, but I’m finally able to get over my anxiety and do it, ehe ^^, hope you like it!

Warnings/things important to mention: Reader is implied to be a woman & non-Korean, some mention of a loss of appetite.

If you enjoyed this and would like to send me a request, please make sure to read my rules post beforehand <3 Enjoy!

Word count: 1.8K

“Love, I can practically see your mind running all over the place.” Chan laughed as he watched me nervously fiddle with my hands while I looked out of the car window. A soft sigh escaped my mouth as I looked at him with a clearly worried look. His smile fell a little as his gaze softened.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine.” He said while grabbing my hand and squeezing it softly. “The members are absolutely going to love you, I just know it.” I heard a hint of excitement in his voice that almost made me feel bad for being so anxious about meeting the rest of Stray Kids. Then again, how could I not be nervous?

“I don’t know,” I murmured. “What if I accidentally leave a horrible first impression?”

“That’s not going to happen, and even if that were to happen, they know better than to judge you solely off of the first meeting. ” That probably would have calmed me down if my brain hadn’t decided to worry about yet another thing.

“Oh my god, what if I mess up the honorifics in Korean? Minho and Changbin are the only members who are older than me, right?” My hand made its way to my face, and before I knew it, I was slightly picking at my skin. “Gosh, I’ve been learning Korean for three years but what if I speak to them informally by accident? I’d never be able to recover from that!”

“Come on, they’ll understand, it’s not that big of a problem, darling.” Chan said as he gently let go of my hand he was holding and grabbed my other hand to remove it from my face. “You don’t even want to know the things Felix said to the members by accident when he was still learning Korean.” He giggled while shaking his head.

Our conversation was interrupted by the car coming to a halt. Chan looked out the window and then turned back to me.

“We’re here! Let's go!” The two of us got out of the car, and Chan reached for my hand as soon as we started walking towards the JYPE building after thanking his manager for dropping us off. I had visited this building a couple of times before; there were a few occasions where Chan wanted to hang out in his studio or show me something, but that was usually when the other members weren’t around, hence why I hadn’t met them yet when I was there.

“I think the members are in the cafeteria since they usually have lunch around this time, are you hungry sweetie?” I shook my head. I probably should be hungry since I had a small breakfast, but my nerves were causing my appetite to be nearly gone. Chan seemed to immediately understand the cause of my lack of hunger, which I couldn’t be more grateful for.

“How about we share a plate of food? You don’t have to eat all of it, but in case you get hungry you can just take some of it.” I nodded in agreement.

We were getting closer to the cafeteria, and as we did so, I heard multiple voices, presumably the members, that were getting louder. Chan chuckled to himself upon hearing his members being rowdy.

“Wait, do they know I’m visiting today?” Chan looked away innocently, shrugging while trying to hide his laughter, but failing.

“Nope.” He giggled, causing my eyes to widen. I couldn’t say anything else, however, because we were now standing in the doorway to the cafeteria, which gave me no ability to hide. I noticed some of the members sitting at a table, while the rest were still grabbing their food.

“Hey!” Chan said, and everyone turned to our direction. I held my breath for a moment, not sure who to look at. Having seven pairs of eyes on you is definitely a nerve-wracking experience.

“Oh, we’ve got company!” Felix, who seemed to recognize me immediately, said. The two of us made eye contact and I smiled shyly. Felix accidentally interrupted Chan and I once when the two of us were calling, and he really wanted to say hi. Our conversation was short at the time, but I could already tell that he was really sweet.

“Wait, is this Y/N?” Hyunjin gasped. He didn’t wait for a response, and instead added “Hyung, you should have told us she was visiting!”

“Nah, this seemed more fun, and I think I was right.” Chan said with a small chuckle, enjoying everyone’s surprised reactions.

“Well hey, don’t just stand there, I’m sure she’s hungry!” Changbin said. Now that he mentioned it, maybe it was the smell of freshly baked bread that filled the cafeteria, but I was now finally starting to feel hungry.

“We’ll get our food real quick and then you guys can talk to each other, is that okay?” Everyone agreed and Chan and I quickly went to get something to eat.

“I’m paying.” He said before ordering for the both of us, not giving me a chance to protest in any way. I held back a sigh and simply rolled my eyes, knowing that debating him on this would be impossible. After he was done paying and we took our food, we made our way to the table where everyone was sitting now.

“You don’t have to pay for me every single time that we eat somewhere.” I said, pouting slightly while we walked. On one hand I couldn’t deny that it made my heart flutter anytime Chan offered to pay for our food, but I felt bad since he was doing it so often. He could afford it, but it sometimes made me worry I wasn’t doing enough to repay him.

“I know, but I want to. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be offering to do it, right?” I guess you couldn’t argue with that…

“Hyung, there’s two free seats over there.” Felix said as he gestured toward…. The middle of the table. My eyes widened slightly and I could feel heat rise to my cheeks. Chan and I would be sitting across each other, and we would essentially be surrounded by the other members. Although they seemed nice, I couldn’t help but feel nervous.

Chan didn’t seem to notice though, as he was looking at Felix, and he just nodded as he gestured for me to go to the chair between Felix and Changbin. Chan held his plate of food with one hand and pushed my chair for me so I could sit down, and immediately the others’ teasing began. He had already warned me about this beforehand, so I wasn’t completely surprised. It was slightly amusing to witness, to be honest.

“Woowww it seems our hyung has great manners after all!” Jisung said in an exaggerated tone.

“He learned it from me, obviously,” Changbin smirked, causing me to chuckle as I sat down. Chan shook his head and made his way over to his own seat.

“Well everyone, this is Y/N, Y/N, these are the members. You’ve met Felix before,” I smiled politely at Felix, who smiled back.

“Hi Y/N! It’s so amazing to finally meet you in real life!” Felix said happily.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” I replied as my hand subconsciously made its way to my hair to play with it, feeling a bit shy.

“Oooo, your Korean is good!” Hyunjin said. “How long have you lived here?”

“She said a single sentence.” A voice whom I assumed to be Minho commented, earning an eye roll from the other member.

“Moving on,” Chan said, ignoring the two which made me stifle a giggle. “The guy sitting on your other side is Changbin, that’s Minho, Jisung, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Seungmin.” I smiled and lightly bowed at each member, trying my hardest to at least appear calm and composed

“Sooo, Y/N, how old are you?” Hyunjin asked curiously.

“Hey, where are your manners! Never ask a lady her age!” Jisung interrupted him.

“You’re one to talk about manners!” The other member retorted immediately. Chan looked at me and sighed, shaking his head, and I couldn’t help but quietly giggle. This was going to be interesting.

—————————————————————————————

“…And we had to attend ISAC the next day too! Chan hyung couldn’t stop complaining to us about his stomachache during the entire thing.” Hyunjin laughed, causing me to giggle as I covered my mouth.

Surprisingly, the afternoon had been going way more smoothly than I expected. The members’ easygoing attitudes definitely helped, they were polite of course but also made sure to joke around, so I didn’t feel as stiff. Although they did ask me questions, especially ones about Chan and my relationship that he never answered, it wasn’t overwhelming at all.

I was awoken from my thoughts at the sight of Chan walking towards my direction.“Sweetie, I’m sorry to interrupt, but don’t you have a shift at 3?” My eyes widened.

Shit.

I looked at my phone and then noticed it was 2:45 already. Gosh, my boss was going to kill me…

“It’s fine, I can drop you off so you can make it in time.” I sighed in relief.

“Thanks Channie.”

“I’ll go get the car, I’ll see you in a bit yeah?” I nodded and he then left. My gaze went back to Hyunjin, who had a small pout on his face.

“I haven’t even shown you any of my art yet!”

“I’m really sorry, but I can’t exactly miss my shift… Show them next time I visit! I still want to see them, Chan has told me about how beautiful your work is.” A shy smile covered Hyunjin’s lips as he nodded. I got up and grabbed my purse. Before leaving, I made sure to say goodbye to everyone, even receiving a hug from Felix, with whom I couldn’t stop talking during lunch.

“You should visit again soon, we may be busy at times but you’re always welcome to join us! Though, I’m sure Chan hyung knows that too.” I smiled and nodded.

“It was really lovely to meet you all! I was kinda worried that I was going to mess up or something, but everyone has been really nice.” Felix nodded.

“Mhm, except for when you almost cursed at Minho when you tried to compliment his shoes.” I covered my face in embarrassment, earning a giggle from him. Thankfully it was only Minho and Felix who had witnessed that, I think I would’ve died on the spot if the entire group heard it. Still, it was embarrassing.

“Please don’t remind me!! I knew I was going to mess up my Korean at some point.”

“Nah it’s all good, I think he knew what you were trying to say.” He giggled. The two of us were interrupted by a car honking, which was probably Chan waiting for me.

“Okay, I really gotta go now, byee!” I said before leaving the building, feeling a lot more relaxed compared to when I arrived here.

Hm, I guess it didn’t go that badly after all.

[v3nusxsky]

Hii! Can I request a platonic lady lesso x reader fic w reader being unfocused or asleep in lady lesso's class so lady lesso gets annoyed with them and makes them stay after class and she's halfway into scolding r bc they're wasting their potential by not focusing etc but notices r is actually exhausted/burnt out and then afterwards it's a bunch of comfort and assurance? Probably include migraines/anxiety, I really needed this one! I've been so stressed lately 😭

Hello dear anon, I hope this finds you well and provides you with a bit of comfort. I’m so sorry you’re stressed darling remember to take a breather and look after yourself okay?

I'm here

*Authors note~ loving writing these requests:)*

Trigger warnings~ anxiety attacks

Prompt ~ see the ask

Your head was pounding. In fact it had been all morning. Your concentration during your morning classes had been non existent. You were certainly having a hellish time of it and not the enjoyable kind. But being a Never, you tried to hide it and appear strong. If you're honest you knew it was getting bad. Of course you did. But Nevers can't show weakness, so you push it away and try to muster up the ability to carry on with your days. Your migraines stem from your anxiety that is bubbling away on the inside. Anxiety is a strange feeling. When you say anxiety people often assume your running around muttering about everything you could be worried about or having a screaming crying meltdown. Well in fact your anxiety attacks were nothing like that. Your anxiety attacks came in the forms of shaking of limbs normally hands and legs, migraines, heart palpitations and dizziness. All symptoms that could be easily overlooked.

You lost count of the sleepless nights now. It must have been days since you actually slept through the night. And the night terrors honestly hell would be more preferable. Or even a night in the Doom room with Lady lesso. Anything over the torture your own mind creates. This morning you were feeling rather delicate, the exhaustion and anxiety getting to you. You somehow managed to get yourself ready for the day and down to breakfast. Opting to keep yourself isolated due to lack of energy you grabbed some fruit and headed to the corner of the food hall. A book in your hand you managed a few bites of the apple before abandoning it in favour of reading your book. Your exhausted brain causing you to re read the same paragraphs over and over just to retain the information there. Today is simply going to be unbearable.

Your first class was Uglification, which you managed to survive rather easily. After all it was just dunking your head in a bowl and having accept how you looked afterwards. The uglier the better. Your bowl was a little off so you didn't achieve the best look but it wasn't bad enough to get a fail. You're second and third class we're a blur. Hardly really being able to stay present. Between feeling yourself give into the exhaustion and your anxiety keeping you awake you felt helpless. After all how on earth could you continue like this? You were feeling on the verge of a burn out. Honestly you could just crawl into bed and not move. Ever. Hide away from the world. From everything.

Unfortunately for you today, you had a double curses and death traps lesson. The one lesson all Never's dread. The one lesson that the dean of evil happened to teach. Now she was known to be exactly what her moniker suggests, and she did not take any nonsense in her lessons, only the best was accepted in her class. And her methods to achieve the best were frowned upon by the Ever teachers. They thought it to be cruel and barbaric, but Lesso explained early on, this is just the way it has to be. Never's can't be broken down easily, that makes the hero's jobs in our stories too easy. You desperately tried to hide any forms of weakness from the women, knowing she'd see it as a reason to toughen you up. And if your honest the Doom room absolutely petrifies you. Never actually experienced it yourself but you heard enough stories to live in fear of the room.

This is why you sat in your first hour with Lesso desperately trying to fight your own body and mind, you needed to be in control here. Yet you honestly felt like dying. It was all too much. The light seeping I'm from the windows seemingly too bright and her voice too loud for your sensitive head. You noticed the tale tale sign of your anxiety flaring once more. Your leg bounced under the desk your hands shook as you attempted to note down what was being taught. Words began to blur together and you knew you were screwed. Knowing that fact made it all seem to spiral further out of your control. The fear of the punishment overwhelming you and adding panic into the mix of whirling emotions and thoughts. At this point you could feel your body and sense slipping away from you.

The smack of a cane hitting the wooden desk caused you to shoot up and snap your attention to your fiery red head professor. She was clearly speaking. Lips moving but no sound reaching your ears. She looked furious with you. Well fuck. You were going to die. She knew. You could see it in her eyes. The disappointment and anger that one of her Nevers would be so god damn weak. Immediately you stood and fled the room. Not caring about your stuff, or the consequences just needing to find air. A safe and calm space. Before you realised it you were running, no destination in mind. Chest heaving as it brought you the gardens. The flowers and running water sounds attempting to ground you. You slowly walked through the gardens attempting to regain control over yourself once more. Reaching the familiar hiding spot you immediately took up residence there. The red roses hiding your tiny form as you rocked yourself to pass through the other side of the attack.

Your chest heaving, heart feeling as if someone had their hand in your chest and were squeezing it, head absolutely banging, you really needed to calm yourself before you passed out. You made the short distance to the fountain to stick your hands in the cold water. Really a strange sight for others to walk in on but you couldn't care less. Cold water is typically a good method of shocking your body back to its normal senses. Which this proved. Your hand in the fountain is what was slowly guiding you through the end of your attack when lesso found you. You had missed your second hour of class which was rather unlike you. After all you're her best student, so naturally she had waited the hour out before setting out in a search for you. She'd tried all your known spots but no luck so the gardens was a last resort which she was relieved to see you here. She approached you carefully not wanting you to flee once more.

"Y/n? Little one? What happened in there?" Her tone was somehow softer but still held it's usual demanding manner. You jumped startled by the extra presence before you crumbled and immediately crawled back to your hide away in between the flowers. Immediately the older women noticed how you had curled yourself up as small as possible and hidden from her, all clear indications that you were not feeling safe. Despite evil being in her title she wasn't heartless, she just wished more people realised that. All her Nevers were her family and she'd do anything to protect you all from serious hurt. And this right here was one kind of hurt she knew she couldn't protect you from. The clear torture of your own mind. And if you were scared of her then her presence would only prolong the attack. You watched as the older women was internally battling with herself before she came to kneel in front of you cane on the floor and hands on her knees. She could now see the rapid rise and fall of your chest which was concerning. "Little one can you try to slow your breathing?" Her tone almost as soft as these petals. Uncharacteristic but not unwelcome.

"Can I ?" She tailed off but her hands showing just what she was asking. You nodded and allowed her to rest her hand above your heart. She could feel the unsteady beats, way too fast to be considered normal and even skipping or adding an extra heat in places. "Little one what's got you in such a way? " she hummed mostly to herself before removing her hand and offering an embrace which you accepted quickly. Lady lesso almost toppled backwards with the force that you flew into her arms with. There in her arms you broke. All the pain and exhaustion finally at it's breaking point. Sobs forcing themselves through your exhausted body as you were held and rocked by the dean. Never in your life would you have imagined this side of the women but now you were experiencing this side of her you couldn't help but admire her. She truly was an amazing role model for all Nevers.

You didn't know how long you sat in her embrace and truthfully you didn't care. This is the most content you've felt in weeks. Your body sagging with exhaustion as you battled to keep your eyes open. Her soothing motions of rocking and the hand gently rubbing at your back calming you in a way you'd expect from a mother. Your pain in your head had worsened significantly since your crying and now it was hard to see. You whimpered in pain gaining the deans attention. "Little one? What is it?"  She immediately looked you up and down trying to find the source of your discomfort. "Head.. can't see... sorry" you mumbled almost incoherently. "Oh little one I'm sorry I didn't realise this sooner. I'm sorry" she murmured moving to stand with you in her arms as well as holding her cane. How was that even possible?

Lesso carried your exhausted body back into the school and into your dorm, where she placed you on your bed pulling a blanket over you. She then set about to get a glass of water and some painkillers we set on your bedside table before she sat next to you on the edge of your bed. Immediately her hand found it's way through your locks in a soothing manner. Her slender fingers lightly massaging the scalp hoping to lure you into a slumber. "My darling?" Was all she whispered out into the empty room. You couldn't even reply with words all you managed was a sleepy hum. "You're doing an amazing job. Your grades are perfect. You're my best student. Next time you feel yourself struggling like this... will you come to me? I'll try my best to help you I just don't want you to struggle alone like this little one." She reassured you sighing in a relief when you nodded and promised to come to her next time. Because you both knew this wouldn't be a one time thing. Anxiety happens to be something that likes to read it's head more often than once or twice. With that you gave into the exhaustion just feeling her fingers in your hair as you drifted off. The dean of evil has the biggest heart you just have to look past the title.

In the future you did in fact go and seek out lady lesso when things became overwhelming for you, she was always there with a hug and comforting words. Never once were you punished for this as it's not something you can control. This happened for the rest of your time at the school and even after when the schools merged and you joined the staff. Lesso had become and honorary mother of sorts for you. A fact that neither of you minded.

Word count ~ 2011

*Authors note ~ i actually love this one so much *

[kingkennny10]

Pink Picasso

Craig Tucker x gn!Reader

fluff/hurt/comfort cause im a sucker for his stoic ass, basically despite everything bad happening around yall you can depend on eachother and have eachother through everything, everything is pretty gn, i did put the prefix ‘mx’ in there once, feel free to read it with which ever prefix you prefer!!

Today was a particularly draining day for you, stress from work and just overall just feeling upset. After work you came home and flopped into bed with a groan ready to sleep the day away. You drifted off for a couple hours until your phone ringing woke you up. It was your boyfriend Craig, you were shocked and began to panic. You had a date night planned tonight and you forgot all about it. You picked up the facetime call with a frown.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I fell asleep after work.” You said sadly into the phone. He had a little smile on his face as he heard your voice.

“That’s alright honey, I figured when you didnt text after an hour. Come let me in.” He said as he got out his car. You heard his door shut from out your window and smiled dragging yourself out of bed to your front door. He hung up the phone and knocked on the door. When you opened it he held out a bouquet of lavender for you to take. “Some relaxing flowers to start off out night of relaxation. How you feeling honey?” He asked as you let him walk in taking the flowers. You knew he could tell how tired you looked, you couldn’t do anything about it now.

“Tired and stressed, works been a lot lately.” You said with a sigh, he grabbed the flowers from you and placed them on a nearby counter and wrapped you up in a big hug. You finally let it all out as you wrapped your arms around him, you let your tears flow. “I’m sick of dealing with all these sucky people all the time. It sucks, it sucks real bad.” You sobbed muffled into his chest. He pet your head gently and rocked you side to side. Even though he wasn’t doing the most, it helped you so much knowing he was here for you.

“I know baby, I know.” He said quietly. You held onto him tightly, not wanting to let him go. Is this really all you needed to help your stress? Your body didn’t seem to ache as much as it did when you got into bed.

“Why do people think its okay to treat others like shit? Just because they don’t know me they think its alright, that it’s not gonna effect me! It’s bullshit, it’s all bullshit.” Craig placed a kiss on the top of your head and rested his chin there now rubbing soothing circles on your back. Despite his lack of response he’s helping you so much by just being there for you. His touch seemed to heal all your stress and anxiety. The tears slowly stopped as you began to let yourself be in this moment with him.

“Cmon, lets get you in the bath and I’ll order us some food.” He said after a couple minutes like this. You nodded pulling away from his chest. He grabbed your hand leading you to your room. “Grab some comfy clothes, I’m gonna start the water.” He said now making his way to the bathroom. You brought your clothes and towels with you to the bathroom and watched quietly and he glided his hand through the bubbly water.

“Thank you baby.” You said quietly making him jump. He turned and smiled at you holding his other hand out for you to come closer. You obliged standing next to him resting your head atop his. He was sat on the edge of the tub, one arm around you an the other in the bath water.

“What do you think about steak n shake?” He asked looking up at you as he stopped the water. You smiled and nodded.

“Do I get a milkshake?” You asked setting your clothes and towel down. He laughed at your question.

“Yea you’re gettin your own, cause I’m not sharing mine.” He said getting up and out of your way. You frowned at him for knowing you’d drink his.

“Can I at least try yours?” You asked with puppy eyes. He rolled his eyes with a laugh.

“Yea I guess, but you can’t have it if you end up liking it.” Craig said leading you to sigh. “Im gonna go put the flowers up and order the food. Shout if you need me.” He placed a kiss on your nose before he left the bathroom leaving the door cracked. You smiled to yourself as you undressed and got in the hot water. The whatever tension was left in your body left quickly as you sunk into the bubbly water. After about 15 minutes there was a knock at the bathroom door before Craig walked in.

“There you are, I was worried you got lost.” You teased and he rolled his eyes with a fake laugh. He had his keys in hand as he knelt down beside the tub.

“Im gonna go pick up the food, when you get out you wanna set up the room for a movie? Im thinking rom coms.” He said running a hand through your damp hair. He knew what he was doing suggesting rom coms.

“Ooo feeling cheesy today huh?” You teased making him laugh.

“Yeah yeah, it’s cause I love you and know Adam Sandler will make you feel better.” He said and poked your forehead. Now its your turn to laugh.

“You know me too well Mister Tucker. And yes I would love to set up movie night!” You said with a bright smile. Everything Craig has done for you today has made all the weight you felt earlier disappear, you have no worries with him around and he knows it.

“Alright Mx. Tucker, the next time you see me I’ll have a bunch of food and milkshakes. Don’t drown while I’m gone please!” He placed a kiss on your lips and left you red faced in your bath. You spent 5 more minutes in the warm water before getting out to dry off and get dressed. You cut on the fairy lights in your room as to keep it dim and set up the tv. You walked over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and noticed the lavender in a vase on the counter there.

“Not one for placement is he.” You said to yourself. You breathed in the fresh scent from the flowers before moving it to the coffee table in the living room. You went to go lay back down in the bed and wait for Craig who showed up 5 minutes later. “Welcome home honey!” You said happily from your spot on the bed. He placed 2 bags of food down on the bed and the shakes on the bedside table before he climbed in the bed and squished you into a hug.

“Thats something I’m gonna need to hear more often.” He said and peppered your face in kisses. “Let’s eat!” He said and brought the bags of food to your laps.

“Thank you for this Craig. I really needed it.” You said opening up your food. He leaned over placing a kiss at your temple and then nudged you with his shoulder before he spoke.

“If you’re not happy I’m not happy. You mean the everything to me and I don’t want you being so stressed out over work. No matter how everyone else treats you, I’m always gonna be here to wash it away. I need you to remember that whenever you’re upset.” He said and you rested your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you. “I wanna marry you one day, and if I can’t keep you happy, how am I gonna make that happen?” He asked rhetorically, you laughed at how cheesy he was being.

“You’re such a loser Craig.” You laughed and he could only scoff. “I love you.” You said and kissed his cheek.

“I love you too honey.” He replied and gave you a kiss on the lips.

Yea yea, craig might be out of character, what about it!?!?!!! I just need sappy ol craig an milkshakes, thank you!! i had to fight every urge in my body to make him say sugar, i just really like sugar as a pet name i guess, but i kept it “canonical” by having him say honey, 😞

[hollyhomburg]

there’s no way we could get a little early spoiler is there👉👈🥺

yes you can! although this part is like- in high danger of being edited out <3 like 8/10 i edit it 2/10 i keep it! it's not that its not well written or workable but there are other sections during this scene that do very similar things to this one. It's not really needed.

Chapter 59 snippet?

“Do you want to like- take a shower or something? Wash the sad off?” you shake your head stubbornly, pressing your cheek further into Namjoon’s shoulder.

“I don’t know if that would help,”

Jungkook pouts, trying not to be hurt that his suggestion is shut down. Your eyelashes flutter. Confessing.

“I don’t- I don’t like feel clean- like ever.” Your pack wait for you to explain it further, to go into it. And it takes you a breath. You really don’t like talking about it- the grubbiness that’s always lurking just below your skin. That can’t be scrubbed or carved or burned or starved out.

"I can shave and scrub and wash my body 100 times and it never takes away what he did from me." your breath hitches, and you look down at the bandaids, dotting your arms like a constellation. but you know what they hide. "Sometimes- it’s so frustrating not having evidence. Not having a wound that I can nurse and heal and It just- feels better.”

You press your hands flat to your stomach, and you take their silence as something else, some sign of disgust or otherwise. panic bubbles up and you make excuses because that's all you can do. “It’s fucked up, I know it’s fucked up. You don’t have to say it. Fuck I shouldn’t have said anything- I’m sorry-”

Jimin pulls you snug against him, your hip against his hip, and you realize Jin’s struggling to keep himself from shaking. Your thoughts and words ramble over each other when you’re like this. Anxieties unbound like a wild dog

“don’t apologize. I-“ Jungkook ducks away, hands tight on the blanket. A confession for a confession seems right. Even if the others will be mad. The words come in a rush once jungkook’s made the decision to spill them.

“Sometimes, when it feels like I haven’t had a seizure and my body needs to have one, I go to McDonald’s after work and pig out on fries so I can trigger one. Because that feels safer, having control over when I’m gonna get hurt feels safer.”

Namjoon goes deathly still. And Jungkook goes cagey, shoulders pinned to his ears. the whole pack glance from him to Namjoon. you wonder if this is what they feel like- watching you and Hobi.

“Jungkook-“ Namjoon’s tone is that of a scolding alpha, but your scent eases. you pull yourself over to jungkook, getting your hand on his, holding it tight.

“no- I get it, I get it so much. i know exactly what you mean”

Control, and a lack of it. It’s so scary how it can make you act. Control is sometimes more necessary than food or happiness or love.

(ah, i'm liking this alot better, maybe 4/10 now?)

[merbear25]

May I request a romantic hcs of America, Prussia, and England x half-Chinese, half-White-Quebecois reader. Reader grew up moving back and forth between China and Quebec ever since their parents divorced. Reader is taking their bf of two years on a trip on both countries to meet the extended family from both sides. What would the bf's reaction be meeting the extended family of the reader?

This was so cute to think about, so thank you for sending it in! I hope you don’t mind that I made some things a bit more general. I hope you like what I’ve written for you. 💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, headcanons, fluff, established relationship

Meeting your family (America, Prussia, England)

America

“Of course they’re going to love me! Who wouldn’t?” He told himself. The insane amount of positivity he had kept this man afloat even when he was at his least confident.

He’d probably want to hear more about them beforehand: the areas where you lived, the food—that’d be the biggest concern. (I’m sure he’d adore anything they cooked, though)

Flying for him was neither here nor there. If you were nervous at the airport or during the flight, he wouldn’t hesitate to offer his support.

This would mostly come in the form of regular conversation to keep your mind off of things. He’d be treating the situation as no big deal, which would most likely rub off on you and lessen your stress.

He’s a people pleaser and an extrovert to the extreme. Sure, he was rather loud at times, which may or may not have put some of your family members off, but his overall demeanor never strayed from friendly.

Even if he had a habit of dominating social events, he could tone it down when in more personal settings.

“That was fun!” He’d beam at you while leaving, stars practically sparkling in his eyes.

He’d gently take your hand and talk about some of the stories your family shared with him, poking fun at your now flustered expression teasingly.

Prussia

Despite his typical confidence beaming through, his nerves were shaking him to his core.

Even if he had an ‘I’m awesome’ attitude at all times, he still wanted to be genuinely liked, especially when it came to his partner’s family.

He maintained a level head, though. There must have been some feelings from your past that resurfaced when traveling, so he stayed strong for you: the atmosphere kept light-hearted, jokes to make you laugh.

This man is a social butterfly, so when the time came to meet either side, his extroverted nature overshadowed the vast majority of any anxiety that was nipping at him.

Although he was chaotic in nature, he tried his hardest to be on his best behavior. 

You probably gave him a little sit-down to talk about how your family acted, what would/wouldn’t go over well with them, so he caught himself before saying and/or doing something dumb…sometimes…

When leaving any of your relatives’ places, he’d exhale and turn to you asking, “How do you think that went?”

At the end of the day, he just wanted to make a good impression for your sake more than his.

England

The skeptic in him made it hard to think of how well this might go. He wanted to make a good impression on them, how could he not?

His mind raced to so many different scenarios, most of which ended badly due to his own lack of confidence. 

He got in his own head more often than he’d care to admit, but this wasn’t about him—not really. It was about you opening up about your personal life with your family. With that considered, he put on a good face for you, trying his best to hide how nervous he was.

Despite his times of stunted emotions, he wasn’t oblivious to the possibility of this being difficult for you. He wasn’t a stranger to old memories flooding the mind when they were least welcomed.

Not being the greatest at vocalizing comfort and support, he opted for actions—gentle squeezes of the hand while he read that morning’s paper waiting for your flight.

Socializing was not his strong point. He made an effort, a genuine try at winning them over regardless of how anxious he was.

Given how polite he is though, I could see him winning them over with his charm, maybe they’d even whip out the photo album and show him all of your baby pictures.

When the time came to leave, he took a deep inhale followed by a long exhale. “Do you think they liked me?” He asked with a slightly timid smile.

[honeylikewords]

penumbra. (jack russell)

jack and his wife are separated during the full moon. (set in the events of the pregnancy arc!)

(warnings: descriptions of food and eating, non-descript vomiting, scenes of fear and anxiety; first ever attempt at writing slightly angsty, potentially hurt/comfort fic(?), everything works out so don’t worry! word count: 6k.)

“Beaver moon,” Jack says, hands in his pockets. He’s staring at a patch of clouds that are skating rapidly across the icy blue sky, nose high in the air. Smelling the wind for what’s to come.

His eyes flick to the side to catch a glimpse of her as she comes to stand next to him, arms crossed over her waist to brace against the chill, and he extends a hand to invite her to stand closer. She does, and she is instantly met with the radiating warmth of Jack’s feverish body temperature as he pulls her into his side; he rubs a hand along her upper arm in soothing arcs, and the heat of his touch comforts her.

“Beaver moon?”

When he’s distant, lost to her, she’s found that pressing him with innocuous questions can help draw him out. An easy opportunity to explain something can warm him back up to talking, and one hapless conversation may branch into a more expository one, and she hopes that getting him to talk about this will help him talk about that. It’s on the horizon, and, presumably, the driving force behind his shift in mood.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “November’s moon. That’s what they called it in, eh, the Farmer’s Almanac.”

He chuckles a little and shakes his head, gaze returning to the skies, and she watches his face as his eyes wander farther and farther away. His thumb creates slow circles on her elbow as he holds her close, and when he does speak again, he mumbles.

“They re-named all the moons of the year. Borrowed--” --he says the word with some sourness-- “--From the people already here. Made up new names for old things. I remember when they started. But there are names, real ones, that people do use.”

Jack turns to look back at her, and she can see something dark hiding in his bright eyes. She knows the expression that has come to linger all too well, from the severity of the lines between his eyebrows to the way he pulls his lips taut, chewing the inside of his cheek. The crease over the bridge of his nose gets more pronounced, and the darkness under his eyes brings a haggard weight to his gaze. A hardness of muscle, a thinness of blood, a lack of color. He’s afraid of something. She feels the knot of fear growing in her belly, too.

She should be used to it, by now. Sometimes, she feels like she is. But every month, like clockwork, when the atmosphere will become tense, Jack’s anxieties become her own, no matter how much she tries to assuage them.

“This month’s a total lunar eclipse,” he adds.

“A blood moon.”

Jack never tells her exactly where it is he goes, and he insists that she doesn’t tell him where she’s planning to go, either.

“Just make it deep into the city,” he reminds her. “The deeper you go, the harder it will be for me to get there.”

“Jack, you wouldn’t--”

He puts a hand up, firmly halting the conversation, and finishes putting the last of his clothes in the duffel bag. As he zips it up, he glances at her and sees the hurt in her face, a downcast expression coming over his own. They’ve had this conversation before, but repetition it doesn’t make it any easier.

“I’m sorry, bebé. I know. But… we can’t risk it.”

Jack rounds the edge of the bed to come to her side, cupping her face in his hands. Regret and longing shadow him as he pets her cheeks, and she doesn’t like the way he’s studying her face; she’s afraid he’s looking at her for what he believes to be the last time. They’ve done this before, dozens of times, so why does this one feel so different? Shaking off the thoughts, she steels herself and holds his hand to her face, meeting his eyes.

“We have our systems,” she reminds him. “You’ll be alright. You’ll come back, all in one big, hairy piece.”

He wrinkles his nose at that. She can’t tell if he’s trying not to laugh or if he’s just uncomfortable, but whatever the reality, it doesn’t seem that her attempt at a joke broke much of the tension in him at all. Damn.

Instead of replying, Jack pauses, then bends forward and kisses her on the crest of her hairline. As his lips warm her, he draws in a deep breath through his nose, his eyes faltering shut as he takes in her scent. He inhales so deeply that she feels a few of her hairs lift off her head; it tickles, and she can’t help the small bubble of noise that escapes her. After a long moment of him standing completely still, nose pressed to her scalp, she feels Jack shift, turning to rapidly kiss every inch of her face.

“I,” he mumbles, kissing her temple, “love,” a kiss to her nose, “you,” a kiss to her cupid’s bow, “so,” now one on the corner of her jaw, “much.”

He plants another dozen across her cheeks and chin and ears and hair, until she’s certain he’s gotten each individual centimeter of surface area her face has, and then pulls back, hands remaining cupped around her face and keeping her in his view as long as possible.

“I will come back to you.” His voice is low, tired. But the promise is powerful. “And we will be alright.”

“I know,” she replies. “I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s only one night,” shrugs Jack, trying to seem blasé. “You might like the break from me. Get a little ‘you’ time in. Watch something you know I’d hate. Eat something with mushrooms.”

“Sounds fun.” It comes out more mournful than she meant for it to.

Out in the yard, branches snap: the cue. Jack frowns, the lines of his face deeper than ever and she thinks, in that moment, that all the hundreds of years have abruptly caught up to him. Wordless, he sighs, presses his nose to her cheek, and gives her one last, long kiss, savoring the plushness of her lips and the scent of her skin, before pulling away.

He grabs his bag off the bed and then takes her hand, the two of them walking in tandem through the house until they reach the back door, where Jack opens it and sees Ted squatting in the bushes. The massive creature waves sweetly at the two of them, and she waves back.

“Take care of my husband,” she smiles. Ted nods his tentacled head.

Jack hesitates in the doorway. The hand that grasps hers guides their encircled fingers to her belly, and he lets go of her with a trail of his fingers across it. His eyes hold there before he scratches at one ear, surprisingly aggressive, and breaks himself from his reverie.

“I end up having to take care of him, you know,” grumbles Jack, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

Ted makes an elephantine grunt and Jack rolls his eyes.

“Ay, I’m coming, man.”

Finally, Jack takes the step to go. He walks across the yard, towards the treeline that leads into the forest, where Ted holds open a gap in the bushes. As he crosses the barrier into the woods, Jack looks back at his wife, and the two of them do their best to be the one to look away first.

It’s only one night.

She breaks first, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand, and when she manages to clear her throat and look back up, both men are long gone.

Paying in cash at the hotel is always extremely embarrassing.

Jack insists, every month, that cards can’t be used-- “They leave a paper trail, querida,” he admonishes-- so he gives her a massive pile of bills to use at her discretion for the night. It always garners looks.

The concierge had raised both eyebrows and quirked his lips to the side before remembering his job and her presence, penitently smiling at her as he counted out the hundreds for the room, and she’d stood at the counter in a haze of discomfort while he made the key card.

She wonders idly if this one would spread rumors of a “lady of the night” or a “woman on the run” in the break room to his coworkers, then continues unpacking her toiletries on the bathroom counter, dismissive. It doesn’t really matter what he says so long as he and all the other people in this city make enough noise and light and stench to keep the wolf at bay.

That was the hope Jack had each month, sending her into the city: the hope that the chaos of human civilization would scare the wolf away from wherever she might be. That their secrecy would keep any memories, even subconscious, out of the wolf’s mind. That he wouldn’t know where to find her, even if he did hunt for her. That was the system.

So far, it has worked.

She does her best to whittle down the hours as sunset begins. Television, phone scrolling, reading, folding and unfolding her clothes for the night and following morning. None of it sufficiently puts to rest the images in her mind; Jack, locked in a cage somewhere, waiting for the agony to begin. Jack, alone. Jack, transformed.

Getting up from the edge of the bed, she moves to sit in the stiff, polyester-upholstered armchair by the window and stares out at the skyline. The city seems to be burning to the ground as the sun sinks between the skyscrapers and streets, dipping lower and lower into the horizon, before being extinguished as moonrise begins. Blue-black night stretches over the land, and thousands of streetlights and windows and signs flare to life, filling the darkness, pushing it back.

The room is too quiet, even with the television running for background noise. She fidgets with a loose thread on the arm of the chair as her stomach churns. She can’t stop thinking about Jack, and how his attitude had been so foreign; he was always withdrawn and anxious before the full moon, but he’d seemed more frightened than usual this time. Her gut contorts when she thinks to herself that he may have been giving her a goodbye, somehow, as if this was the end of something, and all of a sudden--

She bolts up from the chair so violently it rocks over, and rushes to the bathroom, collapsing on her knees in front of the toilet.

“For the love of God,” she moans, voice echoing in the now-full bowl. “Really?”

Nobody answers, but she stands on shaking legs and wipes her mouth with a tissue, flushing the whole affair down the toilet as she brushes her teeth and tongue forcefully. When she’s done, she kicks at the wastebasket in the bathroom and glares at her stomach as it makes a loud, wet growl.

“Seriously? Now you’re hungry?”

The sudden pang, both of pain and hunger, shoots through her and she narrows her eyes further, sighing in frustration and moving to get her coat.

Jack normally instructs her that once the moon is up, she cannot leave wherever it is that she’s hiding. Staying behind doors and walls and out of the open air creates interference, he says, and that interference is key to keeping the beast confused. “If he can’t smell you, he can’t find you.”

Well, wherever he is, she reasons to herself, he’s not going to smell her deep in the heart of the city, much less in the few minutes it will take her to get from her room to the nearby pizza place. The jacket is shrugged on and she opens the suite door, a cold thrill running through her as she breaks one of the rules of the full moon. So much for the system.

She breaks it further still as she leaves the hotel lobby and ambles into the restaurant a block westward, gazing at the menu blearily before ordering two slices: one of her standard order, the second a surprising combination of mushrooms, peppers and pineapple that makes the man behind the counter scoff as he jots it down on the pad. Another fistful of loose bills is tendered, this time to no surprise.

She takes a bite her familiar pizza, first, sitting at a sticky plastic table in the far corner of the restaurant, closer to where the cooking is happening. She figures that if she’s going to break the rules, she might as well balance it out by doing them safely by masking herself in the hot, smelly din of the kitchen. The pizza is a warm meal on an empty stomach, so it tastes better than usual, and she scarfs the first piece down quickly before turning her attention to this new order.

The mushrooms had originally been a little joke-- as one of Jack’s least favorite foods, they seldom turned up in any meals they shared, so she would order them when he was away-- but the other toppings had been ordered on impulse, all of them individually hungered for. Pineapple for its tart sweetness, peppers for their verdant crunch, mushrooms for their earthy meatiness; she piles a massive amount of the tinned parmesan cheese atop her slice and dives in ravenously.

It is a little strange at first, she admits, but scratches an itch she doesn’t quite understand, and she soon finds herself chewing through the crust, the piece decimated and digested. She marvels at herself for housing it that fast and wonders if she might have forgotten to eat earlier today, lost in all the stress of Jack’s departure. Not quite satiated by both pieces, she returns to the counter, orders another slice of the mixed-topping pizza, and takes it to go.

She walks out the front door with the piece in hand, clutched in a slightly oily napkin, and begins to walk through the cold streets of the city, watching through windows as businesses shutter for the night and families turn out the lights in bedrooms and dens. The world is getting ready to sleep, and she feels restless.

Midway across the street that would take her onto the block her hotel sits on, she decides that she can’t go back to the room right now. The stillness is too intimidating, too constricting. She knows that if she locks herself in that suite, she’ll sit, motionless, on the edge of the bed, cycling through the same thoughts that had led her here, making herself sicker and sicker. The mere idea of being in that sterile, dimly home-like room sends a clench through her abdomen, so she chooses to keep breaking the rules.

She takes a left and crosses another street, meandering into the city park that spans multiple blocks. She’d seen it coming in towards the hotel, and knows where the hotel sits in position to it, so she won’t get lost, she figures, passing through the low gates of the park and following the paved paths past a bed of trees and unpetaled rose bushes.

The grass underfoot crunches dryly, almost entirely dead, as she works on her piece of pizza and wanders aimlessly through the park. Now that she’s had about two and a third of these large slices, she’s beginning to feel full, and the remaining two-thirds slice in her hand is becoming less and less appetizing as it gets colder and she thinks more on her worries. She doesn’t want to vomit again, so she decides to give herself a break from it and moves to sit on an empty bench overlooking a glass-smooth pond.

It’s a calming sight: the park is entirely empty, the water features all turned off, and all that she can hear is the wind through the trees and the distant sound of traffic, muffled by the foliage. The night sky is dim, starless thanks to the city’s light pollution, but the moon, enormous and luminous, cuts through the darkness, viciously bright. It glows orange-red, the penumbra of the earth edging in; the blood moon.

She thinks of him as she stares at the moon, mindlessly picking at the food in her hands. The wind gusts a cluster of leaves down from the tree tops and they rain down onto the surface of the pond, sending ripples flowing across the water, reflecting red moonlight in arcs and waves. Somewhere, a dead limb cracks off a tree and falls to the earth with a heavy thud, and she jumps a little, nails digging into the mushroom she’d peeled off the pizza and was ripping apart on the napkin.

It occurs to her, now, that she is a woman alone in a major city, in a park, at night. She checks her surroundings carefully, noting no sign of other people, and tries to remember which way the hotel is; after a moment’s consideration, she decides that it’s to her right and that she’ll follow the path out to the nearest street, which she should be able to cross and get back to the hotel via.

As she begins to stand, another crack issues through the silence of the park, this one less heavy but nearer than the first. It sounded more like something crunching through shrubbery, something with enough mass to disturb leaves and snap branches. Human? Animal? She isn’t sure; do coyotes come this far into the city? She’d heard that they sometimes wandered the suburbs, attacking dogs; now isn’t the time to remember things about coyotes, she thinks. Now is the time to move. Her heart is pounding, dread setting in around her, and she moves as quietly as she can towards the path that leads right, staring at the space she thinks the sound came from. Unfortunately, it works: she sees what she’s looking for.

In the light of the red moon, she sees it.

Something massive, much bigger than any coyote could ever hope to be, rises from a span of bushes a few yards away from the bench, hunkered low but coming up taller and taller and taller. Every inch it rises is another dagger in her heart, her ears slamming with the sound of her blood, and if she had half a wit left in her, she’d scream: scream until whatever it was went deaf, scream until all the city knew where she was, scream until her throat bled. But all she can do is stumble backward, unable to take her eyes off the indistinct thing in the darkness, her body begging her to move back, into the light, into the safety of numbers, into anywhere but here, as everything else shuts down.

She keeps taking rapid, wobbling steps back, faster and faster, eyes transfixed, as the shape pushes out from the bushes and begins moving across the grass, shadowed and faster than anything she’s ever seen before. It races at her as she tries to turn around and run, and she begins scrambling up the path when whatever it is lets out an inhuman screech that crescendoes into an unearthly howl, so loud it rings her ears and makes her start dry-sobbing, trying, still, to run.

Before she can get anywhere close to the edge of the path, the creature is behind her, arms around her chest, yanking her backward into the night, and she finally manages to let out a belting scream before--

She is laying on her back, in the grass, at the side of the pond, and the thing is over her, staring down. Her body is pinned under the creature, with its knees on either side of her abdomen, one of its hands under the backside of her head and the other supporting the small of her back. The arms holding her still must be enormously strong, as she feels that her weight is not resting against the earth, but rather solely in the grasp of the beast.

It tilts its head from side to side as it inspects her closely, and she takes advantage of the moment to do the same. In the full, bright light of the moon, it’s much easier to see what exactly this thing is; it’s certainly humanoid, to be sure. Wide shoulders covered in a dense pelt of fur block out the sky behind it, and its bare chest is similarly hairy, tapering into a manlike waist. It’s all bare, actually, excepting a shredded pair of sweatpants that fit tightly against the creature’s lean legs and that are torn below the knee, making room for its massive calves. The hair seems to be densest around the thing’s face and neck, where it splays out in a dark mane, backlit by the moon to create a halo of red-brown tendrils that shift with every breeze. Its nose is long, flared into a wide, brown snout that clefts into two distinct curves of cartilage; every breath drawn through it rankles its top lip, curling it into a snarl. Twin sets of razor-sharp incisors glint wetly in the light, framed by lips that hang open as it breathes, hard, through its mouth.

Most noticeable, however, are its eyes.

They glow from underneath massive eyebrows, peering at her through the darkness, twin sparks of the aurora borealis. Green. They’re green.

Her own eyes swim with tears and her throat closes up, unable to make any sound but little sore gulps, and the creature bends down to rub its canine nose against her jaw, whimpering in the back of its throat sympathetically.

No, she corrects, not its: his. She would know him anywhere.

Jack pushes his face along the underside of her chin, whining into her neck, and uses the hand cradling her head to push her into the crook of his, rubbing her in. At first, the action confuses her, and she rankles her nose at the strong scent of his sweat against his damp, musky fur, but it dawns on her that the smell is, in fact, the purpose of the gesture: he needs her to smell him as he is smelling her. The wolf wants her to know that she is with her mate, and believes the scent is key to convincing her. She settles for winding her fingers into the matted span hair that covers his back and shoulders and crying, equal parts relieved and frightened, into his pelt.

She shakes and sobs as the wolf presses her to his chest, and Jack lets out pained, short barks, baying and howling pityingly. He pushes her as close to his skin as he can get her, and his skin is so hot it burns her cheeks, already sore from crying; if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was on death’s door with a fatal fever. As her breathing starts to lull and the sobs mellow into hiccups, Jack shifts her weight closer to him, rising to his feet with her in his arms.

The shock sends her scrambling in his hold, gripping onto his shoulders and yelping in fright. Jack lets out a huff and bumps his nose against her temple, a silent attempt to calm her, and he begins moving back towards the trees, seeming intent on going deeper into the park. Tentatively, she puts a hand on his chest and pushes, and he stops, head jerking back in confusion. She watches his huge eyebrows knit together and he bares his teeth; it’s not a threat, but a question, his familiar eyes searching her face for an explanation.

“Jack, we have to get you out of here,” she rasps. “You’re not safe in the city.”

If he understands, he doesn’t show it; Jack decides to keep walking toward the trees, and she has to push again to get him to stop. This time, he lets out a growl, his hold on her tightening, but he does relent and holds still, waiting in the shadow of a tree.

“Where’s Ted? Why aren’t you in your…”

Her voice trails off as she realizes she doesn’t know what to ask, and that even if she did, Jack probably isn’t capable of responding. He cocks his head at her and frowns, again pushing his nose into the side of her face and nuzzling against her skin, and she melts under his touch. For as long as she’s known him, Jack has been firm with her that this part of himself is too hideous, too deadly for her to see, but, now, all she can see is her husband, vulnerable despite the power of his transformation.

She takes a moment to do some mental math, weighing her options. She can’t let Jack out of her sight for the rest of the night, that much she knows, but how she’ll get him to safety is the truly unknown element. Getting back to their house wouldn’t be entirely feasible, as she’d taken a taxi to get here, and getting him back to wherever he chose to hide during his transformations was out, since she both did not know where it was and knew that wherever it was, it was not in any condition to hold him: he’d gotten out, after all.

That left two options: try to sneak Jack out through the city on foot, or…

“Jack? Baby?”

His ears perk and he pulls his face out of her neck, head cocked like a dog listening for instructions. Jack’s pink tongue slips out and wets his lips and teeth and he flashes her something that she tries to interpret as a smile, but that reads more closely to a grimace. It endears her all the same.

“You need to come with me, okay?”

Jack stirs with a groan, his eyes blurry and unfocused. Everything is scaldingly bright, burning his retinas, and he covers his face with a large hand, rubbing at his sore lids and wiping away the crust of a heavy, pained sleep.

“Morning, Puppy,” he hears.

Oh, still dreaming. That’s frustrating. Jack hates it when he dreams that she’s near, only to wake up alone. It’s like barreling headlong into a glass door. He rolls over on his side and throws an arm over his head, snarling through his teeth at the world.

Of course he’d have a dream like this after a night like that. Dream that she’s rubbing his back, dream that she’s pressing her lips to his hands, dream that her scent is wrapped all around him, filling the room.

He tries to burrow his face into the pillow and block out the light, only to find that his pillow is hot. Solid. Not at all fabric, but certainly plush. He growls in frustration, wondering if he fell asleep on top of a deer carcass again: that'd be hell to wash out of his hair. But the pillow smells like her… painfully so. He pushes his face in deep and moans in misery.

"Are you still hurting?"

"Yes," he says, voice rough and cracking. "Everything hurts. Miss you."

"...You miss me?"

Jack opens one eye and stares up at the fuzzy, dark shape hovering at the periphery of his vision. From a certain angle, and with just the right amount of blinked clarity, it does sort of look like her. He figures getting it all out of his system in a dream is as good an option as any, and he rubs his rough-stubbled cheek into his warm, rising and falling pillow, sighing.

"I hate being away from you, amorcita," he rumbles. "Makes me feel like complete shit. I already feel like shit, then I come out of it, and you're not there, and I become, uh, doubleshit."

"Doubleshit?"

"Mm."

"You're not doubleshit," she purrs. A hand strokes the exposed curve of his face and he tilts his chin to meet it; this is certainly one of his more indulgent dreams. Lusciously detailed. It'll be hell to wake up from. "You're alright, now."

Jack wrinkles his brow and scrunches both eyes tightly before reopening them, rolling on his pillow to face upward. His gaze clears and focuses: her face is now visible, looking down on him from above. He squints at her.

“...What are you doing?”

At his question she knits her brow and smiles, shaking her head in amused confusion.

She looks so beautiful that it takes Jack out of his mind and into a purely animal place: all he wants to do is stare at her, at the angles of her face, the slope of her nose, the curvature of her lips. He wants to ingrain this thought in the forefront of his mind and forget everything else; the pain in his body, the ravages of the night before, the wild haze of unclear memories. All that matters is this.

One of her delicate hands reaches down and scritches at his chin, right in his favorite spot, the one that always sends his leg twitching, and he’s too worn to hold back the relieved moan that issues out of him, his whole body oozing into languid comfort. His eyes flutter shut, and he revels in the sensation of her. Oh, she really knows how to get him.

When her nails catch on a rough patch of stubble that tugs a little, it occurs to Jack that he is not, in fact, dreaming. That accidental scrape of nails feels too organic to have been generated by his fuzzy mind; his eyes flash open, staring up at her.

She pulls back briefly, and Jack leans up, cocking his head. This is not a dream. She is there, sitting above him. His mind goes blank.

Jack pushes himself onto his elbows and looks around at his surroundings, bewildered, heart racing. This is not his safe room. These are not concrete walls. They’re wallpapered, with tacky, directionless paintings glued on. He’s laying on a completely destroyed mattress, body between her legs, instead of on the cold floor of his cell. He’d gotten out, somehow, and--

“Jack, baby, it’s okay,” she says, reaching around to wrap her arms about his chest and tug his back flush to her body. He trembles a little in her grasp, feeling her pressing reassuring kisses all along his face and shoulders, but the sound of her voice and the touch of her hands brings him back down to earth, bit by bit. “It’s just me. You’re alright. We made it through the night.”

“We…?”

“You… found me, remember?”

A low series of curses in a mixture of languages seep from his lips as he turns on the bed, taking her face in his hands. He paws at her, tugging clothes aside and pushing her limbs this way and that as he anxiously studies every inch of her, checking her face and body for wounds, bandages, scars: any sign that the wolf had harmed her. He’d gotten loose? And, worse yet, he’d managed to get to wherever she was?

“Did I--”

“You didn’t hurt me, Jack,” she reprimands. His eyes rise up to hers; her gaze is firm, unyielding in its promise. “You were looking for me.”

“I… I don’t know how I got out,” he admits, stroking one of her cheeks. “I’ve never done that, before.”

“Well, it’s certainly a first, but… as far as I can tell, all you did was come to find me. I think you wanted to take me home, actually.”

He looks at the room. This is definitely not home.

“But I, uh, didn’t let that happen.”

Jack frowns. This just keeps getting more and more mystifying.

“You fought the wolf?,” he asks. When she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, he frowns even more deeply and presses further. “Then… what?”

“I just… asked you to follow me. I took you back to the hotel.”

“We’re at a hotel?!”

Reeling, Jack holds onto her shoulder for support and stares out at the room. Of course. Her hotel room. He recognizes all the telltale signs-- the chipped wooden furniture, the clunky black plastic amenities, the pale orange lighting-- but sees all of it in disarray. Claw marks line the overturned armchair by the window. Stuffing leaks out of the loveseat. All the sheets are shredded, the mattress beneath them carved with long, hard gouges. He thinks he sees bite marks on the legs of the writing desk.

The idea that the wolf was in a hotel room at all flummoxes Jack; that he could pass dozens, maybe even hundreds of opportunities to hunt, all sitting quietly in their little, individually-wrapped rooms seems impossible. Surely, he must have left a wake of destruction behind himself... right?

Jack peers down the entryway and notes that the front door of the suite is shut, with the desk chair shoved under the handle at such an angle that the door is, essentially, barricaded. He wonders if she put that there to keep others out, or to keep him in; either way, it seems to have worked. He can’t smell blood, nor decay, though there’s a minor tinge of stomach acid. She must have gotten sick rather recently, at least within the last hour, and Jack lets out a frustrated whimper at the idea of her being ill and his being unable to help her.

He collapses into her, pulling them both down onto the mattress, and exhaustedly moves his head to lay on her body. He isn’t even particularly conscious of his movements, just letting his instincts take over and guide him, and he ends up curled around her, his head firmly pressed into her belly, hands gripping her sides as she pets his hair to comfort him. Everything washes over him in a depleting wave, and he surrenders to her wholly, burrowing his face into her and kissing mindlessly into her tummy.

“This is actually how you slept for most of the night,” she remarks, playing with the patch of hair over his right ear. “Just like this.”

Her belly must have been the pillow he mistook for a deer carcass. If he wasn’t so drained, he might have been a little embarrassed by the error. It doesn’t matter, now. All that matters is getting her home, safe and sound, and making sure that none of this follows them back. Pay all this off. Get out without being seen. Find Ted. Repair and re-structure the safe room. The list keeps growing.

But he’ll straighten all of that out later. In the moment, Jack just wants to lay still and revel in her: it’s the first time he’s woken up from a transformation with her right there, by his side, and it fulfills some emptiness he had only dreamed of easing. She’s here. She’s holding him. He’s safe in her arms. What more could a man ask for?

His hand straggles up and he lays it next to his face on her tummy, tracing intricate patterns into the skin under her shirt. The texture of her skin is so familiar and grounding that he nearly is lulled back to sleep, his eyes drifting shut, palm splayed across her belly, but he manages to fight through and stir himself awake, blinking heavily up at her.

“You’re incredible,” he manages. “I don’t know how you do it, but you’re, you know, just… I love you.”

He’s not quite aware of his words, more cognizant of the feelings behind them than of their actual structure, and relents: maybe he can’t express himself like that right now. Still too frazzled. Instead, he settles for leaning in, and presses a kiss deep and hard into the softness of her belly. She pets the hair at the nape of his neck, mumbling her response distantly.

“I didn’t really do much of anything, I don’t think,” she says. “I just asked. You listened.”

The idea of the wolf listening to anyone should surprise Jack. But instead, he blinks, pensive, and nods into her stomach; if ever there was a voice that could compel him, both halves, wholly and completely, it would be hers.

“And I love you, too. All of you, by the way.”

“I tore apart a mattress,” Jack moans. “You sure you love that part?”

She laughs, the sound softening every line in Jack’s face as he relaxes into her, and she rubs his shoulders with a doting firmness that makes his heart sing.

“I do, actually; it was kind of cute. I think you were just trying to make a bed pile for us.”

“Leave it to you to,” he mumbles, trailing off, “to find something cute in a werewolf.”

“‘S not my fault. You’re the one who’s a cute werewolf. I’m just an impartial observer, making a statement of fact.”

Jack doesn’t have nearly enough energy to play-argue with her, but he has enough that he manages to open his eyes and stare up at her. Something looks different about her, now: a glow to her features, not quite new, but more pronounced. He wonders if she’s just his guardian angel, come to care for him, and that what he’s seeing is her halo; that must be it. Her halo.

Her light outshines the moon; the wolf bays for her, now.

links to previous fics in this series:

cubs.

familia.

thank you for reading! comments and replies are always appreciated, and give me immense motivation to continue these stories! feel free to let me know what you thought and what you’d like to see next!

[rn-zane]

TIMING: recent SETTING: coffee house PARTIES: @vanishingreyes + @rn-zane SUMMARY: two people who happen to work in healthcare meet up and... click.

Zane was late and desperately hoping that his new friend wasn’t the type to show up ten minutes early to a coffee hang out. The thought of Xóchitl having waited for over ten minutes was horrifying enough but twenty minutes? If that hadn’t been even more rude, he probably would have scurried off home to hide from the consequences of his awful time management. Plus, he did like the idea of sitting down with her for a chat. She seemed nice, earnest. 

Cold air followed him into the coffee shop once he finally scrambled through the door, apologizing profusely to the woman who had just been about to exit. A quick, almost frantic survey of the coffee shop confirmed that Xó hadn’t simply given up and left, and that she didn’t look annoyed. “Hi, hey,” Zane greeted breathlessly, smiling apologetically as he sat in the empty chair across from her. “I’m so sorry, time just got away from me and… anyway, good thing I already offered to pay because I’m definitely doing that now.”

Tugging the hat from his head, put on mostly for appearances since the cold didn’t really bother him that much, Zane made a futile attempt to control the disarrayed curls that became free. “What are you having? I’ll go order for us.”

—--

She figured that she could use someone to hang out with who was easy company, and who she didn’t want to sleep with. Not that she assumed Zane was unattractive, but she was rather overjoyed (inasmuch as she could be) at the prospect of maybe having a friend that would start as just that, and not as a hookup of some sort. Plus, he seemed like he needed a friend, maybe even more than she did (not that Xóchitl was readily admitting the fact that she did maybe need a friend, but still. Zane needed one even more.)

“You don’t need to apologize,” she gave a flick of her wrist, dismissing (she hoped) any further apologies that he might have attempted. “But yes, you can still get the drinks for us.” Xóchitl didn’t mind being treated, and she was also fairly positive that Zane would collapse into himself like paper if she denied him his wish, so she’d let him do what pleased him, and then, if this went well, repay him sometime.”

“I’ll have a chai. It’s not super authentic here, but I’m also hardly an expert on that, and it does a good job as far as being an enjoyable drink. What will you have?” Xóchitl tucked her phone into her bag. “You should get yourself something to eat, too. Feels like I should say that especially because of the whole fact that you’re a nurse in the Emergency Department and likely don’t have a whole lot of free time.”

—-

Further apologies died on his tongue at the flick of Xó’s hand but it did little to quell the apologetic smile that was still glued on Zane’s face. Nodding along eagerly as she gave her order, he shrugged off his jacket to hang on the back of the chair, hoping his face didn’t twitch when she mentioned food. “I’m good with just drinks at the moment, honest. Don’t worry, my coworkers are really good at bothering me about nutrition.” He’d had to brush off more worries about his eating habits than he could count, even going so far as to vanish into the breakroom to be able to lie that he’d had a meal there. 

With one last smile, Zane went off to order their drinks, returning with a steaming chai and a cup that looked more like hot chocolate than coffee, topped off with whipped cream, caramel and some tiny marshmallows. “New winter special,” he explained as he finally took a seat, trying to shake off the anxiety of being late. “I’m bad at resisting caramel flavored things. And tiny marshmallows.”

The first sip was wonderful, the texture of the warm mocha with the whipped cream, coupled with a few pieces of marshmallow doing enough to make up for the lack of being able to really taste it. Grabbing for a tissue to wipe off the cream that now smudged his upper lip, Zane chuckled awkwardly, unsure of where to start this conversation before deciding to just dive in. “I’m… really happy you wanted to meet. You seem nice and, well, never hurts to have more nice people around, right?” 

—-

“Just drinks works for me too, I just figured I’d be rude if I didn’t at least offer, and also I did want to genuinely offer. Make sure you’re doing alright and all that.” She didn’t want to care this much, but she couldn’t help it, apparently. Which was a curse itself, but not one Xóchitl was going to get too into at the moment.

“I think you’d be someone without a heart if you could resist such things.” Xóchitl offered him a small smile. Of course, she played at hating sweets as often as she could, but of all the façades she kept up that one the least. It also wasn’t one she saw it fit to stress out over, at least not too very much. Not right now, at least. The last thing she wanted (or rather, one of the last things she wanted) was for people to think that she avoided indulgences because of some health worry. It was all rooted back to trauma, but that also wasn’t something she needed to focus on or let Zane know anything about. “So long as the marshmallows aren’t stale – I like them when they’re actually correctly squishable.”

“I agree entirely. About having nice people around. I’m glad that I seem nice – you do, too.” She offered him one of her far more genuine smiles. “Did you grow up here? I forget if I’ve asked you this before, or not… also, I am glad we finally met. God knows I need more people at the hospital who I can tolerate.” Xóchitl let her smile come mainly from her eyes, that time.

—--

Zane chuckled softly at her encouragement for the sweet drink, even as the comment of being heartless hit a bit too close to home. Of course he still had a heart but it wasn’t really serving a purpose other than simply being. If an education in healthcare hadn’t already proved beyond a doubt that emotions did indeed not spawn from the heart, his current situation would have been a solid example. “Not sure if I need someone supporting my sugar addiction but I’m definitely not complaining,” he joked.

Looking her over, Xó seemed like someone who wouldn’t have a hard time finding company, whether platonic or not. Her smile was infectious and she seemed so sure of herself, much calmer than Zane who was trying his best to not squirm in the seat. “No, just been here a couple of years. Started nursing school and just sort of stuck around, I guess. As good as any other place,” he explained, although being literally stuck felt more accurate. Where else would a solo, freshly turned vampire go? At least here he had a place to stay, a few people to care about. His hand stilled as he realized he’d been pulling at the ends of his curls, unraveling them and making the already messy locks even more disarrayed. 

“I’ll try to keep myself in that group, then.” He smiled, patting down his hair and fighting the urge to throw his hat back on. “Sorry, been putting off a haircut as you can see and, anyway, what about you? No way you’ve been here your whole life.” 

—--

“Well, I’m an independent woman, and I think I can choose to support whatever it is that I please.” Xóchitl grinned, “and listen, if it makes you happy, and it’s not harming anything other than maybe your teeth, why shouldn’t I approve?”

She could feel his eyes looking her over, and for a moment she straightened up even more, doing her best to appear as perfect as she could. Not for any reason other than the fact that she genuinely wanted Zane’s respect. There was nothing other than platonic feelings toward him, but he’d called her nice and kind so many times that Xóchitl absolutely wanted to prove him right. Make sure she was what he expected. He seemed like he needed predictability and consistency, and if she could give that, she absolutely would. Every time. “Well, I’m sure the town’s all the better for you sticking around, I know I’m glad I got to meet you.” She watched him play with his hair.

“I bet you’ll do that no problem.” Another kind smile, another sip of her drink. “Have you ever considered dying your hair? Not saying you need it, and I’ve personally not done it, but I think it could suit you, if you’re trying to be more out there.” Xóchitl should’ve known to expect the next question. She could’ve lied, but it felt cruel to do so. “I was born here, moved away as a kid, and just came back in March. So no, got my beginnings here but haven’t lived here in just over twenty years.”

—--

Zane chuckled, enjoying the easy conspiracy of encouraging bad behaviors of this caliber. A safe thing to joke about but also something that made him feel like he’d known the woman in front of him for longer than the short conversation they’d had online. Definitely a personality trait that came in handy for a psychologist. “Ah, of course. I wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do. Especially since out of the two of us, you probably have better instincts.”

Sometimes, in the presence of kindness like this, Zane tended to feel undeserving. Maybe because of all the secrets he held or simply because he felt more comfortable being the one on the giving end of kind words and actions. That feeling was lingering now, wanting to prompt him into making excuses, try to convince Xóchitl that she wouldn’t feel the same if she knew everything but thankfully, he kept those intrusive thoughts in check. Instead, he settled for an embarrassed smile, one that would have been accompanied by a blush if physiologically possible. “I’m definitely glad, too.”

Her suggestion caught him off guard, the cup of empty calories stilling against his lips for a moment before he finally took a sip. They’d talked a bit about their differences online, Zane’s tendency to stay back, far from the spotlight while Xó seemed to crave the opposite. The idea was just that, an idea, probably just her thinking out loud but it did spark some interest in his chest. “I… haven’t. Until right now.” He smiled, toying with the idea. It would definitely be a point of conversation at work. Maybe even a… confidence boost. “I mean, knowing me I’ll think about it and postpone it until the end of time since I’m not great at spontaneity but it would be fun.”

Nodding along to her explanation, Zane finally raised his cup towards her with a soft smile. “Then let me say that the town is all the better for your return.”

—-

“Well, that’s high praise considering we’ve only just met, but I’ll still take it.” It was easy to like Zane, and it made Xóchitl all the more grateful that someone like him was in the medical field. She knew from direct experience how unfortunately rare that was, and even if she normally just did her best to get through the day without having to interact too much with anybody else. Mostly because work friendships weren’t really her thing. In fairness, friendships of any sort weren’t really… her thing. Despite the fact that if anybody wanted to prove the contrary, they had plenty of evidence to do so. 

She couldn’t help but smile at his smile, and find a certain sort of childlike charm in all of this. Which was a nice change of pace, and even if she wasn’t going to explicitly say so to Zane, Xóchitl could show him with her words and expressions that she in fact enjoyed this, and it was nice to talk to someone where the only possible underlying goal was friendship. 

“I mean, we could do it today.” She smirked and raised an eyebrow. “That would make for a story to tell, don’t you think?” Xóchitl nodded, “no pressure, obviously, but if you want to do it, I’m down. This sort of spontaneity doesn’t hurt anybody and can just be plain old fun, so if you’re down, I’m down.”

She tapped her cup against his. “Well, again, you’re very kind to say such a thing.”

—-

It had been way too long since he’d been in company this comfortable, this stress free. He was meeting people, sure, but Emilio was… Emilio, things were still always a bit tense with Jonas, being around Chris just made him inherently awkward and that last meeting with Wynne had been alright but not… good. Zane would have been tempted to somehow slip in the fact that Xóchitl was gorgeous and kind but far from his type if not for the fact that she seemed to be on the exact same wavelength. An honest to god friend date. Even if this would end up being just a one time thing, he was grateful for it all the same.

Even if this sudden change in conversation was making him a little jittery. 

“Really?” he chuckled, somewhere between nervous and giddy at the thought. Zane did want to make sure Xó had a fun afternoon and he had mentioned that getting outside his comfort zone would be a good thing. “I mean, everywhere is probably booked for the day and I’m guessing this sort of thing probably takes a while and you have places to be…” He trailed off, realizing how gloomy this all sounded. “You know what, yeah. Let’s do it. Or at least try. Worst case, we can get one of those box dyes and hope my hair doesn’t fall off.”

—-

It was nice to just be able to talk to someone. Of course, she had people like Emilio, and like Jade, and Wyatt and maybe even that strange musician, Conor. But to have something fall into it all as easily as this was? Absolutely brilliant. Xóchitl would’ve used the word magical if it didn’t seem preposterous to use. Though Zane did have a pretty ideal sort of magic presence around him.

“Yes really! I don’t usually do things I don’t want to do. Plus, you’re a lot of fun.” Except she could practically feel the cloud that covered him, which only made Xóchitl all the more keen to go out and do it. “Yes! Good. Let’s do it! We can try box dye, or I’m happy to bribe any salon into finding an opening for us.” A mischievous twinkle appeared behind her eye. “It’s really up to you, but I’m absolutely and totally down for anything you want to do. Proud of you for suggesting something that’s a bit wild but also very fun and safe.” Because she didn’t want her possible-new-maybe-friend to get hurt (or die) on their very first hangout.

She didn’t want him to ever get hurt (or die), but it would be especially awful if it all happened at the very start of everything.

—-

Her excitement was so contagious, there was no ignoring it. Zane couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it would have been like to grow up with siblings - well, have siblings and a normal childhood, maybe. Being blood didn’t matter, that much he’d learned over the years. His found family might have been a bit strange at the moment, an odd assembly of such different people that it was a wonder he could care so much about all of them. Maybe Xóchitl could fit in there, be another reason this town wasn’t quite as awful as it regularly attempted to be. 

So yeah, his breath hitched a little when she said she was proud of him for something as silly as this, and it was probably a bit weird that he already felt needlessly protective of her. It didn’t matter because right now, they had a hair salon to find. “Heck yeah.” Smiling, Zane felt light as he dug out some cash to leave as a tip, bumping his shoulder fondly into Xó’s as they moved for the door. 

[the-red-mafia]

The Lost

The whole mafia expected Velvet to be upset following her mysterious conversation with Zaeor. What Maroon and Thorn didn't expect, though, was her running off to break into the B.A.D. mansion all on her own. The two scramble to follow them and the trio unite to search for answers within the walls of Velvet's childhood home. Also available on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/TheRedMafia Next Update: [Updated] Word Count: 5910

A day after “The Thief”

Maroon knocked on Velvet’s door for the third time, anxiety taking over them. 

“Velvet, I know you’re upset at Zaeor, but can you just let me know you’re okay?” they pleaded, “No one’s seen you since dinner last night.” The older teen had been locked in their room since they had gotten back from the UPS headquarters, only emerging after Zaeor had left to grab food. The god had returned about half an hour ago and seemed completely unbothered by her lack of presence. 

“They’re too frustrated to be useful right now,” he had told Maroon, “It’s one of their flaws.” Maroon had ascended the stairs anyway, and now stood in front of the closed, silent door. 

“Velvet, I really don’t want to do this. But I need to make sure you’re okay.” Maroon took a deep breath and grew a mushroom on the other side of the door. It fidgeted with the lock before a loud clicking sound echoed in the hallway. The teen opened the door, the mushroom melting back into the floorboards. 

The window across the room was open, letting in a cold breeze that sent goosebumps down their arm. The red and black comforter of her bed was still tucked in as if it hadn’t been touched in a few hours. Several empty energy drink cans sat on the bedside table. Maroon walked over to them, spotting a handwritten note set precariously on the edge. They picked it up.

Velvet’s handwriting, they thought, I can’t tell what it says. Maroon returned back to the doorway.

“Thorn, can you come up here?” they called out. Footsteps thudded against the stairs before the other teen appeared down the hallway. Their purple flannel matched Maroon’s sweater, which still made them smile slightly. Maroon took a deep breath. 

“Velvie giving you trouble?” He asked, smirking. 

“No, they’re not in here.” Thorn’s eyes widened.

“They’re not?” Maroon stepped out of the doorway, letting Thorn pass. Thorn looked around the room for a few moments. 

“Huh. Where’d she go then?” 

“That’s what I need your help with,” they replied, holding out the note, “I found this on the bedside table. Can you read it for me?” Their friend nodded, taking the small piece of paper. Ae looked at it for several seconds before shaking aer head.

“It’s in some other language. Latin, if I had to take a guess. I can’t read this.” 

“Try and read it out loud, then. I’ll translate.” Thorn let out a groan.

“Gods, I hate reading Latin.” Maroon chuckled and sat down on the perfectly made bed. Thorn sat down next to them.

“Here goes nothing,” Thorn mumbled, “‘Zaeor, apud Unorem consilium quaero.’” Maroon’s eyes widened. “She’s going to Unor’s base?” they breathed. “Noli sequi. Necesse est ut sōla id faciam. Te vocābō posteā’. And then they just signed their name.” Maroon’s heartbeat raced as they took the note from Thorn. The older teen looked up at them.

“So what are we doing?” it asked. Maroon was quiet for a moment.

“We’re going after them,” they said, standing, “They probably took the Umbrella, but we can take Rhyme’s ship.” Thorn nodded, standing as well. 

“I’ll go get the others. We can leave ASAP-” 

“No,” Maroon interrupted, “‘Non sequi’. She doesn’t want anyone to follow her.”

“I feel like what she wants doesn’t matter in this case,” Thorn muttered. Maroon brushed the comment off and turned to the door.

“The two of us will go. What if they’re in danger? We have to help.” 

“I mean, I’m with you on that part. Even if it’s Velvet,” Thorn began, “But I don’t know how comfortable I am with just taking Rhyme’s ship.” 

“I don’t see another option.” Thorn closed their eyes for several moments.

“Yeah, okay. If you’re sure. Let’s go.” 

Velvet looked up and down the hallway before sprinting into the next door. They shut the door quietly and took a deep breath.

Just a few more offices until his, she thought, Hopefully I can find something before then. They were picking up a folder off of the desk in front of them when a loud alarm began to blare. Velvet immediately set the folder down, but the sound continued. 

Trapped folder? What’s in here- She picked the folder up again when the door slammed open. Velvet quickly threw Kil-layye Mo’ore towards it before turning around. A familiar squeak hit her ears. 

“Maroon?” They breathed. Maroon waved slightly, standing up. The door shut, revealing Thorn behind it. 

“Oh it's our lucky day, huh?” the prince began, “She was behind the first door we checked.” Velvet balled their fists and glared at Thorn. 

“What the hell are you two doing here?” 

“We found your note,” Maroon answered. Velvet’s eyes widened. 

“What? It was in Latin, how’d you-” Velvet looked Maroon in the eyes, who tugged slightly on the sleeves of their red sweater. 

“How long have you been able to understand Latin?” the assassin demanded.

“About 500 years,” Maroon mumbled quietly. Velvet groaned loudly, summoning her sword back to her hand. 

“Of fucking course. Listen, I don’t know what you’re doing-”

“We wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Maroon began, “You were upset last night and then suddenly you’re breaking into B.A.D. and- I just wanted to help.” 

“And I’m here too,” Thorn added.

“Ugh, okay. But I don’t need your help. I’m fine on my own.” Maroon placed a hand on Velvet’s shoulder and smiled.

“I know. But this way, we can make sure.” Velvet looked them up and down before sighing. 

“Fine, whatever. Did you two set off the alarm?” Thorn sheepishly raised aer hand.

“That one’s my bad. I didn’t realise the cameras were on.” Velvet blinked a few times. 

“How…what? Why would they be off?” 

“I don’t know!” Velvet groaned again and sheathed Kil-layye Mo’ore. 

“You’re an idiot, frūx.”

“Hey, we’re here to sav-” Maroon cut them off.

“Is there any way to shut it off?” 

There’s an off switch in Unor’s office, but that’s way too far away to reach without getting caught right now. Where’s the other one… Velvet’s eyes widened and they quickly turned to the door. 

“Follow me. We’ve got to go visit my mom.”

Solana sat awkwardly at the breakfast table in between Mad and Rhyme, taking a bite of her eggs. Their companions refused to meet each other's eyes. Rhyme pushed his eggs back and forth on his plate while Mad looked towards the ceiling.

“So,” the elf tried, “Those kids, huh?” 

“Mhm,” Rhyme mumbled. Mad stayed silent. Solana waited a few moments before setting her fork down. 

“Rhyme, how far do you think they could’ve gotten?” Rhyme looked up at them. 

“If they figured out the boosters, they could be two galaxies away already.” Solana sighed. 

“Let’s hope Zaeor can find them soon, then.” Silence took over the room again. Mad eventually stood and took Solana’s empty plate. 

“I’m going to my room,” Mad stated. Solana quickly stood up and jumped over the counter, blocking its exit.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, crossing his arms. Mad looked them up and down. 

“Do you need something, Solana?” 

“More like you two need to talk,” the elf replied, “Now sit your robot ass back down.” Mad sighed.

“Solana, it’s really none of your business-”

“It’s either I do this, or Velvet does it when the teens get back. And I think you’d prefer me.” The droid was silent for a moment before returning to their seat. Solana smiled and hopped back on the counter, taking a seat in the middle.

“So, are you two gonna be able to mediate yourselves like adults, or do I have to sit here?” Rhyme looked up at Mad, who looked away. Solana rolled his eyes.

“Sitting here it is then,” they crossed their right leg over their left, “What happened at Eliza’s?” 

“Solana, really? Everything is fine-”

“Clearly not, if Rhyme here got as upset as she did on the UPS mission.” Rhyme’s cheeks became a light pink and she sunk deeper into her seat. Mad looked at her.

“Rhyme? What are they talking about?” The thief took a deep breath.

“Mad, I’m really really sorry,” he blurted out, “I fucked up really bad and I hurt you and I’d take it back if I could but I can’t and I just…” His voice faded out.

“You just…?” 

“I…don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. You’re…well…” The teen looked up at Solana, who motioned for her to continue. 

“You’re the only person who has cared about me in, god, 5 years?” He chuckled nervously, “You’re my only friend. I fucked up, I know that, and I’m sorry. And I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Because I don’t think I could handle losing you.” Mad was silent as it stared at him. The two made eye contact, or as much eye contact as they could considering one was a robot. A minute passed before Mad spoke. 

“Rhyme…” they began, “What you did…in front of me…it really fucked me up.” Solana’s eyes widened. 

I don’t think I’ve ever heard Mad curse before, they thought, glancing at Rhyme. The teen seemed to be having a similar thought. 

“I know, and I’m sorry-”

“I’m not done,” Mad interrupted, “I can’t look at you without seeing her bleeding out on the floor over and over again. My programming keeps analysing it, looking for some way for me to change it. But I can’t. And you can’t change what you’ve done.” Rhyme looked to the floor, but nodded. Solana frowned.

“Mad?” the elf asked. Mad groaned.

“Could you two let me finish my thought?” 

“Shit- sorry.” Mad sighed and stood up. It took Rhyme’s hand and pulled her up to her feet. Rhyme’s eyes widened as he looked at them. 

“As upset and…frustrated as I am about it, I think I’m more upset at the situation than you,” it mumbled, holding both of her hands, “I mean, I’m still upset, but I care about you too. And…I can’t lose you too.” Solana smirked. 

“S-so, do you forgive me?” Rhyme asked, the light pink returning to his face. Mad chuckled slightly.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Rhyme smiled brightly and pulled them into a hug. 

And that’s how you do it, Solana thought, Damn, if only that worked on Velvet. My life would be so much easier. 

“Don’t do it again,” Mad added before glancing up at Solana, “But that’s the most genuine apology I’ve heard in my entire time being with the mafia.” The elf rolled their eyes. 

“Hey, don’t look at me. What do I have to apologise for?” 

“My screwdriver.” Rhyme suppressed a laugh while Solana glared at the robot. 

“I didn’t fucking take your screwdriver.”

“I don’t believe Velvet snuck past all four of us without help.” 

“She’s the best assassin in the universe, of course she can!” Rhyme finally couldn’t keep it in anymore and broke out in loud laughter. 

“Have you seen her?” Rhyme pushed their face into Mad’s shirt to muffle her laughter. Mad stared down at him, wide eyes taking over the previously blank screen. Solana raised an eyebrow and jumped to the other side of the counter. 

“I think that’s my cue to go,” she said, gesturing to the door, “I’ll go check on Wyatt.”

“Solana-” The elf sprinted to the stairs, leaving the two of them in the kitchen alone.

 

Nala took a deep breath as she ran a brush through her hair. She pulled a section in front of her shoulder and stared into the mirror on her vanity. She was halfway through braiding it when there was a knock at the door. Nala frowned and checked her watch.

Unor’s not supposed to be here until 11:30, she thought, It’s only 10. 

“Who is it?” She called out. 

“Tua fīlia, mater,” A familiar voice answered. Nala’s eyes went wide. 

“Velvet?” She breathed. She quickly stood and opened the door, revealing her 15-year-old daughter in front of her. Two of her teammates, Maroon and Thorn if she remembered correctly, stood behind her. Nala pulled Velvet into a big hug. 

“Oh, Velvet,” she breathed, hugging her tightly. 

“Hi Mom. Can we come in?” Nala let go and smiled. 

“Of course.” The teens entered the room, Velvet shutting the door behind her.

“Hey Velvet’s mom,” The redhead, Thorn, said. Nala waved at him. 

“Hello, Thorn was it?” The teen nodded, so Nala turned to the other one, “And you’re Maroon?” 

“Mhm,” Maroon answered. She smiled.

“It’s lovely to see you two again. How have you been?”

“Good-” Velvet walked to the other side of the room, where a large computer set up sat. Nala looked at her daughter.

“What are you doing, Velvet?”

“Shutting down the alarm, give me a sec.” Nala frowned. 

“You set off an alarm?” Velvet groaned.

“No, those asinī did.” 

Asinī? I don’t think I know that one.

“Well I’m sorry I don’t know the entire B.A.D. mansion by heart,” Thorn apologised sarcastically, “I didn’t grow up here.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to come-”

“Language,” Nala corrected. Velvet groaned.

“Sorry, mom. I didn’t ask you two to follow me. In fact, I think I explicitly said don’t.” 

“In our defence, you told Zaeor not to follow you,” Maroon chimed in. Velvet turned and glared at them. 

“‘Cause I was under the impression no one else spoke Latin. I guess I’m learning a lot today.” Nala chuckled and stood next to Velvet in the chair. The teen typed quickly and eventually got into the main security system. She paused on the screen for a few seconds.

“Left side, dear,” Nala stated. Velvet pressed the button and the bright ‘System Normal’ status blinked green. 

“Thanks, mater.” She clicked out of the security but pulled up the files application.

“What are you three doing here anyway?” Nala asked, turning to look at Thorn and Maroon as well, “And why didn’t you want your teammates to come with you?”

“Because she’s an angsty bitch,” Thorn mumbled. 

“Language.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bolton.” Nala chuckled.

“Please, just Nala.”

“I’m looking into some information about something we found at a UPS headquarters. Do you know anything about Unor going to the station on Kenip?” Nala thought for a moment.

“I know he went there, but I’m not sure what for. I think it was just a routine drop-off he wanted to go on.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Velvet mumbled, “What about December 9th? Have you heard anything about something then?” At the same time, they typed the date into the search bar.

“That’s the day of our winter fundraiser.”

“Fundraiser?” Thorn asked, “Aren’t you guys like, rich?” Maroon put a hand on Thorn’s shoulder.

“Thorn-” Nala laughed and waved a hand.

“It’s alright, Maroon. It’s a fundraiser for a missing kid organisation, part of my plan to improve B.A.D.’s public image. It was also originally planned to help look for Velvet, but…” she gestured to Velvet, who rolled her eyes. 

“That’s sweet, how you never gave up looking for her,” Maroon said, smiling, “From the way Velvet used to talk about her parents, I thought you two didn’t get along.” Nala frowned and looked down at her daughter. Velvet, however, turned to glare at Maroon.

“I never said that.”

“I know. I just thought since you hated Unor so much-” Velvet looked back at the screen. 

“She’s just as much of a victim as we are.” 

“...we?” Maroon looked towards the floor, and Thorn took their hand. 

“That’s actually another thing I should look for,” Velvet mumbled under her breath. They typed Maroon’s name into the search bar.

“Velvet, that’s not what we came for,” Thorn said, “We don’t need to-”

“Shut it, Thorn.” The screen loaded for a moment before a grey ‘No Results’ tab popped up. Velvet sighed. 

“That’s about what I expected. Maroon, what was the name on the folder again?” 

“Project Rapio.” Nala paused.

“Now that name I’ve heard before,” she stated. Velvet looked up at her.

“What do you know?” 

“It’s been Unor’s new project for the past few weeks,” Nala sat down on her bed, “He didn’t tell me much, just that he would be redirecting resources to it for the next few weeks.”

“So the folder was right,” Velvet breathed. 

“What folder?” Velvet stood and turned to her teammates. 

“I have to search Unor’s office. Are you two coming with me?” Nala grabbed her wrist.

“Now wait just a second, young lady,” she said. Velvet looked at her.

“What, mater?” 

“First, drop the attitude. That’s no way to talk to your mother.” Thorn stifled a laugh as Velvet broke her wrist out of Nala’s grip.

“Sorry.”

“Secondly, Unor’s in a meeting there right now. You’d get caught immediately.” Velvet groaned.

“Do you know when he’ll be done?”

“11. Then he’s meeting me here at 11:30 so we can go make plans for the fundraiser.” Velvet mumbled something that Nala couldn’t make out. Maroon took her hand, drawing her attention. 

“We could stay in here until she leaves with him?” they asked, turning to Nala, “If you’re okay with that, Nala.” She smiled.

“Of course I’m okay with that. I’d never pass up a chance to hang out with my lovely daughter.” She pulled Velvet into another hug, one that she tried to wrestle out of this time. Nala won out, of course. She always did. 

“So, uh,” Mad began, looking down at Rhyme, “What was Solana talking about with the mission yesterday?” Rhyme lifted his head to look at the ground.

“Oh- uh- that was nothing.” 

“I can’t help but think that’s a lie.” 

“It’s not!” Rhyme said quickly, looking up at them, “I was just overwhelmed and thought you hated me.” 

“You know I can just text Maroon and ask, right?” Rhyme let out a strained laugh.

“Maroon won’t respond, they’re avoiding us.” Mad’s screen displayed a smirk.

“Maybe they’re ignoring you.” Rhyme narrowed her eyes. 

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Maybe,” it said, “Maybe they talked to me before they left and I told them how to fly your ship.”

“Mad!” The droid laughed. 

“Why would you do that?” Rhyme demanded, “Where are they going, anyhow?” 

“That part they didn’t tell me. They just said Velvet ran off and they wanted to go after her. So I told them.” 

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t just tell them to take all of us,” Rhyme replied. 

“They said Velvet had said she didn’t want to be followed. I figured they could handle it.”

“But my baby-” Mad laughed again as Rhyme fake-pouted. 

“Your baby will be fine,” Mad replied.

“Well yeah, you’re right here,” Rhyme mumbled. Mad looked down at her.

“What was that?” Rhyme’s heartbeat raced and he blushed.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Rhyme looked down at her hands, still in Mad’s. He quickly pulled them back and stuffed them into his pockets. Mad pulled out their phone and quickly typed a message. After a few seconds, it beeped. 

“Oh, they found Velvet. They’re with them and their mom now.” 

“Nala’s in on it?” Rhyme asked, “I shouldn’t be surprised, actually. She was the nicer of the two.” Mad nodded.

“I think she’s one of the only people I’ve heard Velvet talk about positively.” Another ding and a smirk appeared on Mad’s screen.

“Maroon said whatever you said yesterday was important.” Rhyme’s heart skipped a beat.

Dammit, Maroon. Fucking traitor. 

“I don’t think so,” Rhyme replied, crossing her arms. 

“Hold on, they just texted what you said.” Rhyme jumped forward, knocking the phone out of the droid's hand. Rhyme tripped over Mad’s foot, falling onto Mad. The two landed on the ground, Mad laughing loudly. Rhyme glared at the phone. 

“I was joking, Rhyme, I didn’t even ask them. I was just getting an update,” Mad said, looking up at her. Rhyme switched his glare to them.

“Scared the shit outta me, strange robot.” 

“Although, I might text them about it now considering that’s how you’re reacting.” Rhyme held Mad’s shoulders down and shook his head. 

“Can’t do that if I keep you here away from your phone.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Mad chuckled, “Rhyme, I’m a robot.” 

“Shit.” Mad laughed again, a bright smile appearing on their screen. 

“I’m just kidding. Maroon probably wouldn’t tell me, anyway.” Rhyme sighed, taking her hands off Mad’s shoulders.

“Good.”

“I am curious, though,” Mad added, “You don’t have to tell me, but I do wanna know.” 

“Maybe I’ll tell you. Eventually.” Mad displayed the eyes emoji, which promptly spun around. Rhyme stared at it before breaking out into laughter.

“What?” The droid asked. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Rolling my eyes.” That response only made the thief laugh harder. She set her forehead on their chest while she laughed. 

“Who…who told you to do that?” he asked through laughs. 

“Thorn. Why, does it look stupid?” Rhyme shook his head.

“No. Never stop doing that.” Mad shrugged as the thief sat up.

“If you say so.” The two looked at each other for a few moments. Mad’s screen changed to a smile, causing Rhyme to frown. It switched to a question mark.

“What’s wrong?”

“What did I just say?” Mad’s screen went blank.

“Huh? Oh- you meant-” Rhyme laughed again, shaking her head.

“No, I’m kidding.” Mad’s screen displayed the rolling eyes again anyways.

“Better?” it asked. 

“Better.” Mad laughed before looking Rhyme in the eyes.

“Can I stand up now?” Rhyme’s face went bright red and he quickly scrambled to get off of the droid. 

“Sorry-” 

“It’s okay. Are you gonna finish your breakfast?” Mad asked, gesturing to the full plate. 

“Right, yeah. Kinda got interrupted during that, huh?”

“That would mean you actually started eating.” Rhyme’s eyes widened. 

“I thought you weren’t looking at me earlier?” Mad shook their TV.

“My camera was looking at you, the TV wasn’t.”

“‘Course, how silly of me.” Mad nodded as the thief sat down at the table. It joined her, this time sitting to her right. Rhyme smiled and took a bite.

“How is it?” 

“Perfect,” Rhyme answered.

Just like you.

Velvet led the way down the hallway, Thorn and Maroon following behind. Nala had cleared out the area a few minutes before, but Velvet had Kil-layye Mo’ore drawn anyway. They passed down a set of brown double doors with several stickers on it. Thorn looked at them: a rainbow, stars, and the letter c sat in the middle. It looked like there were more letters, but they had fallen off. 

“What’s in there?” Thorn asked. Velvet didn’t even turn around to look at the door before responding.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” 

“Drop it, frūx,” Velvet hissed. The prince put their hands up. 

“Right, got it.” The trio walked for another minute before Velvet stopped in front of another set of double doors. These ones were blank, and a deeper brown than the other ones. Velvet took a deep breath. 

“We’re here.” Maroon looked down at her. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Velvet?”

“Of course I’m fucking not. But we don’t have a choice, now do we?” 

“I’m sure we could figure something else out. We could ask Nala-” 

“No,” Velvet stated coldly, “She’s endangered herself enough today. I’m not letting her get hurt again. Let’s just get this over with.” Maroon frowned as Velvet pushed the big doors open, Kil-layye Mo’ore raised. They creaked slightly but revealed an office with a large black desk ordained with various trinkets and papers. A laptop sat on top of it, open. There were three chairs around the desk: one on the side of the laptop and two with their backs towards the door. 

Paintings lined the walls depicting old buildings and other people, presumably older members of the Bolton family considering their similarity to Velvet. The walls were a deep, blood red with black sigils lining the middle. Thorn pointed them out.

“Any idea what those say?” He asked out loud. 

“Don’t look at them for too long. They’re a form of security.” Thorn quickly looked away.

“Unor’s got a lot of magic access for a mortal,” ae mumbled. 

“It’s really not that surprising. He’s not that far off from becoming a fake god.” That sentence caused Maroon and Thorn to stop dead in their tracks. 

“...what?” Maroon breathed. Velvet turned back to look at them. Her red hair fell out of the clip, so she adjusted it while she talked. 

“You didn’t know?”

“I think you conveniently forgot to mention that part,” Thorn replied through gritted teeth. Velvet just shrugged. 

“Well now you know.” 

“What do you mean ‘not that far off’?” Maroon asked. Velvet sat down in the main desk chair and typed something into the laptop.

“Same fucking password, what a fucking idiot,” they mumbled, “I mean he’s not far off. He’s got four and a half of the five souls he needs, so he’s almost there.” 

“Souls?” Thorn demanded, “How exactly does one become a fake god?” Velvet groaned.

“Did I really forget to explain this?” 

“I wouldn’t be asking otherwise.”

“I don’t know, you’re you,” the assassin mumbled, “To become a fake god, someone needs to collect one soul of each type. Unor’s got four and a half.” Maroon took a step forward. 

“Half?” Velvet refocused on the laptop, typing more into the keyboard. Maroon opened their mouth to say something more but stayed quiet. 

“Damn it, this is wiped clean,” they mumbled, “It’s almost like…” Thorn stared at her.

“If you say what I think you’re going to say, Velvie…”

“He knows we’re here,” Maroon said in a small voice. Velvet quickly stood from the chair and joined the duo.

“How could he know we’re here?” Thorn asked, “There’s no way.”

“He must have found out about the UPS break-in and put two and two together,” Velvet answered. They pushed the doors open again, this time a loud alarm blaring again. 

“So that whole planning thing with Nala was bullshit?” 

“Maybe not. I hope it wasn’t. I hope he’s not here and is just hoping his guards will be able to capture us.” 

“The guards that are also him,” Thorn muttered. Velvet nodded and stepped out into the hallway, making a run for it back where they came. The other two quickly followed.

“If we can get back to Nala’s room, could we-” 

“Too dangerous,” Velvet interrupted Maroon, “There’s another security panel in the library, but that’s way further. I don’t know if we’ll make it.”

“And there’s no chance they’re gonna fall for the false alarm from Nala for a second time,” Thorn added. Velvet nodded. Footsteps began thudding behind them, voices shouting in various languages Thorn didn’t know. Velvet glanced backward.

“One of you, make a wall.” Thorn obliged, a wall of vines growing and blocking the hallway behind them. They added a horizontal layer as well, just in case. In front of them, a large metal door slammed shut. Velvet quickly stopped in their tracks, breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” they said. 

“W-what’s that mean?” Maroon asked. 

“Full lockdown’s been activated. We can’t get out that way. Or any way, for that matter.” 

“Then what’s the plan?” Thorn demanded. Velvet glared at him.

“I’m fucking working on it, Thorn.” The voices behind the vine wall grew louder as Velvet scanned the hallway. A few feet ahead stood the sticker-covered doors once again. The assassin’s eyes locked on it right as Thorn’s did.

 

Maroon looked at their two friends as they both looked ahead. They followed their gaze to the door from earlier, the one Velvet had dismissed. 

“Fuck, okay,” she breathed, running forward. Maroon and Thorn followed. Velvet slowed in front of them and carefully tried the doorknob. The door gave way, warm sunlight fading in from the large bay window on the opposite side of the room. Maroon glanced at Velvet, who had her eyes closed tight. She took a deep breath and, once Maroon and Thorn were inside, shut the door. 

The room was well-lit from the window alone, a pair of blue curtains hanging from the rod above them. The right corner had a large canopy bed, decorated with blue and purple bedsheets. There were four pillows on top and an extra blanket folded neatly at the end. Pictures of butterflies and various star systems sat above the bed, forming a star. 

A large rug was in the middle, a blue flower. The opposite side of the room from the bed had a desk with a textbook open on top of it. The chair was pushed in and a layer of dust had begun to form on the pages. A closet was pushed up against the wall the door was on, slightly ajar. 

Velvet slowly turned around, taking in the scene. Maroon watched as they walked towards the window. 

“Who’s room is this?” Thorn asked, crossing his arms. Velvet sat down at the window, looking out. Maroon walked towards the open textbook. 

“This is- was. This was a friend of mine’s bedroom.” Maroon looked down at the book, wiping the dust off. There sat a name.

“Caran?” Maroon read, “Oh…that’s who Caran was.” Velvet nodded, standing again. 

“Try not to touch anything, okay?” Maroon wiped their hand on their trousers. Velvet joined them at the desk and glanced down at the book. 

“‘Course that’s what he was reading,” they mumbled. Maroon looked down at them.

“What is it?” 

“Algebra.” 

“What’s…algebra?” Velvet stared at them for a few seconds.

“I’ll let Mad handle that one.” Maroon nodded but kept their eyes on Velvet. The assassin slowly opened a drawer and their eyes widened. 

“Jackpot,” they breathed. They pulled out a laptop, similar to the one from Unor’s office. They sat down back at the window and opened it up. Maroon sat next to them and Thorn joined on the other side of Maroon. 

“His laptop?” Thorn asked, “How’s that gonna help?” 

“Unor’s not going to limit a dead person’s access to classified documents. That’s his one weakness: he’s cocky. He killed someone, so there’s no point controlling what they can see.” Maroon’s heart skipped a beat.

“He killed Caran?” Maroon asked.

“Of course he fucking did. Are you even surprised?” 

“...no.” Velvet typed in another passcode and smirked. 

“And we’re in. Project Rapio…” They clicked on a file and quickly scanned it. 

“That looks like the one we found at the UPS,” Maroon commented. Velvet nodded. 

“It is.”

“Anything new?” Thorn asked. Velvet closed the document and opened up the next. 

“I’m looking, give me a minute.” Thorn looked around Maroon to read the screen.

“That’s in English?”

“Yeah. It must be the memo he sent to the lower-ranking operatives. They typically can’t read Latin.” Thorn was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened. 

“Unor’s trying to capture us for one of our souls?” it exclaimed. Velvet slammed the laptop closed and stood. 

“We should get out of here,” she mumbled, “We’ll have to break the window.” Maroon glanced at Thorn, who was staring at Velvet.

“Velvet, did I read that right?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, Thorn.”

Soul? If he already has 4 and a half, why would he want… their eyes locked on Velvet, Oh. 

“Velvet, that half a soul Unor has,” Maroon said quietly, “It’s yours, isn’t it?” Velvet turned back to glare at them.

“So what if it is? It doesn’t change anything.” 

“Oh my gods,” Maroon breathed, “Velvet, I’m so sorry-”

“Is that why you’re so…you?” Thorn asked. Maroon stared down at them.

“Thorn-”

“What? That was the nicest way I could think of.” 

“Just fucking drop it, will you?” Velvet demanded, “It’s not that big of a deal.” She jumped onto the window seat and drew Kil-layye Mo’ore, using the hilt to break the glass. Maroon and Thorn quickly moved out of the way. 

“It is a big deal, though. You’re missing half of your soul, your personality, your…emotions.” Maroon let the last word hang in the air as Velvet sheathed her sword again. Thorn looked between Maroon and Velvet.

“So all this time, I’ve been calling you a bitch for ignoring your emotions,” the prince began, “But you haven’t been. You just haven’t had emotions?” 

“I’m done talking about this with you two. Just forget you ever figured this out, okay?” 

“Velvet, stop.” Maroon grabbed their wrist, forcing them to look back at them. 

“What do you want, fungus?” 

“How long has your soul been broken?” Velvet groaned.

“Are we really going to do this?” 

“The quicker you answer our questions, the quicker we can leave,” Thorn added. Velvet glanced at each of them before sighing.

“Fine. Since shortly after my 14th birthday.” 

Nearly two years, Maroon thought, Dear Ailuj-

“Does Zaeor know?” Velvet scoffed.

“Of course he fucking knows. He’s what stopped him from taking the whole thing.” Maroon’s eyes widened. 

“So that’s what you meant,” Thorn said. The two of them looked towards him.

“What?”

“You keep saying that he saved your life. I thought that was after you started working for him, but it's why you’re working for him.” Velvet rolled her eyes.

“That’s what you choose to focus on?”

She’s been like this since before the mafia was formed. How did no one notice?

“I don’t control where my brain goes, Velvie.”

Does anyone in the mafia know? We…we could’ve…I could’ve…

“Do not fucking call me that, especially-”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Maroon blurted out. Velvet turned to them.

“What do you mean?”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? Me, Mad, anyone. We could’ve helped you sooner.” Velvet narrowed their eyes at them.

“Because there’s no way to help me, Maroon.” The youngest teen’s heart skipped a beat again as they looked at her. 

“There has to be something.”

“There’s not, Zaeor’s checked. I’m stuck like this for the rest of my life.”

“Fuck, that’s morbid,” Thorn muttered. Velvet sent a glare aer way. 

“So is my entire life. Get used to it.” 

“What if Unor was dead?” Maroon asked. The two teens refocused on them, Thorn’s eyes wide.

“What are you talking about, Maroon?” Thorn asked. 

“If Unor was dead, wouldn’t all the souls be released? Couldn’t you get it back then?” Velvet frowned.

“In theory, but there’s no guarantee-”

“But it’s possible?”

“Maroon, are you saying we should-” Velvet cut Thorn off.

“Yeah, I guess it’s possible.”

If killing Unor could fix Velvet’s soul…after everything he’s done, what’s stopping us?

“Then let’s attack Unor first,” Maroon stated, “We’ve been on the defensive this whole time. The day he’s actually planning on attacking us, we attack first. Stage a full assault on this base. Take it over and end this.” Velvet stared at Maroon for several moments. Thorn took their hand but Maroon didn’t take their eyes off of the assassin in front of them. 

“You’re right,” Velvet finally replied, “That’s what we’ll do.” Maroon took a deep breath and nodded. 

“Mushroom, are you sure you want to-”

“Yes. I’m sure.” Velvet held a hand out to Maroon and the three teens stood on the windowsill. Thorn had a concerned look on his face as he stared at Maroon. 

“One of you want to make something to get us down?” Velvet asked. A giant mushroom sprouted from the ground, stopping right in front of them. Maroon led the way onto the pileus.

It’s time to end this.

[quotesfrommyreading]

What is ARFID? Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder was only officially recognised in the DSM-5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) when published in 2013; but it had been controlling my life for many years before that.

Unlike other eating disorders, it is characterised by a distinct lack of interest in food and eating, sensory-based avoidance, and / or the concern about the aversive effects of eating. Sufferers typically have fewer than 15 ‘safe-foods’ (that’s individual items – not meals!) and it is common for sufferers to stick to ‘beige’ foods. This can also mean avoiding entire food groups altogether.

For me, it meant that I didn’t eat any meat, vegetables, nor barely any fruit. Even staple foods which a kid typically loves were my nemesis. I feared sauces, nothing on my plate could touch them, and I couldn’t cope with complex foods which had a mixture of ingredients and textures. Even now I struggle not to eat one food item at a time, in a specific order. Furthermore, safe-foods can even be brand-specific. If there wasn’t my usual brand available or it was too expensive, or my mum had tried to sneak an alternative brand, I would know instantly and react to this the same way that I would a new food.

I’d describe my reaction towards trying anything other than my safe foods as a phobic response. My heart would be pounding, my whole body shaking, I felt physically sick – and this was before even eating. Even if I eventually mustered up the courage to put the food into my mouth, before I barely had the chance to chew, I would violently gag and consequently spit the food out. My body physically rejected anything other than what my mind deemed ‘safe’. This is the part people couldn’t seem to grasp, be it peers or even healthcare professionals, the sheer anxiety attached to this. If something made you react like that, would you want to do it again? Would you want to face that every day, thrice?

With ARFID, eating can feel like a chore – it’s a dull, repetitive cycle and every day is exhausting. When I finally received a diagnosis in my teens, although still with no help or guidance, I felt empowered. All the questions and all the noise stopped when I said the words “I have an eating disorder”. There is so much stigma around this term that people fear it, you can see them physically recoil. Although I appreciate my struggles are greatly different from those with other EDs, it wasn’t an incorrect statement. It was a way to feel validated.

  —  Living with ARFID: I'm not just a fussy eater

[lunchcase]

14.2.2022

Durian Coffee

Brother bought it home

I have never tried durian before, which is whack, because I’m from Hong Kong and they’re not exactly a rarity back in them parts. Durian is one of those things you hate or you love, odi et amo, excrucior except sometimes just simply excruciating without Catalus’ turmoil. From a distance, I was never the sensitive enough type to recoil from its powerful odour, but here, now, in concentrated coffee form right next to me - I took a whiff and my nose bruised with the scent’s palpability. The expression, “radiating waves”, comes to mind, and I now intimately understand how palpable a smell can be for us to be able to describe it as radiating. I have been breathing through my mouth for the last 10 minutes.

It is my sincerest hope that the scent will miraculously reflect nothing of the taste.

I have not breathed through my nose for 13 minutes.

I can feel a slight coiling in my heart as it simultaneously struggles to regain even footing after such a punch to the face, and to ready itself to attack (taste the drink). Rare it is for a drink to induce anxiety. But here we are.

16 minutes.

I had so dearly hoped I would be one of those people unaffected by the smell of durian.

17 minutes.

We can not have everything.

Being lactose tolerant is luck enough. I should not have asked for more.

18 minutes.

It’s brown, but not a - tea - chocolate milk - coffee - the regular kind of brown. There’s a distinct brown-green tinge to it, reminiscent of the dirt under grass. Why must this all conspire to be so unappetizing to me.

20 minutes have gone by, and I still have not breathed through my nose. My heart beats oddly.

My dog, Cat, has been barking for the same amount of time now. I’m not sure if it’s because she feels left out of what clearly is an experience, albeit silent, or she too is protesting the smell.

Okay. Like peeling off a band aid.

Nope

Nope No no no no no thank you I took a sip and that’s enough for today!!

—————I immediately passed it back to my brother, who downed the whole thing in one sitting, and now my mouth feels like durian, my nose feels like durian, water tastes faintly like durian, and I desperately need a mint, but for lack of mint downed three pieces of chocolate instead. A full body shudder-cringe roiled through me as hints of durian refuse to untangle from my senses. My body shook as if physically trying to shake it off. My nose is still unconsciously not breathing; I have to remind myself every few seconds to use it. There’s a pounding in my head that threatens to switch to a heavy metal genre, but no one can say I never tried. It is always novel and exciting to me when I find something I can accurately say I detest, without hyperbole. Food-wise, it rarely happens, and now the list is 3. Who knows, maybe durian - the fruit - won’t be as bad as this concentrated, pure, distilled caffeinated version of it.

Say what you want about durian (and people have said a lot), but one could not call it weak. This is the heavy hitter of fruits. This is as safe as potent poison gets. This is durian.

[lynn-writes-things]

I’ve Got You (Levi x Reader)

rating: fluff?? comfort fic cause Levi needs a fucking hug

you catch Levi crying in his office after the expedition with the female titan

Being out on medical leave during the latest expedition had you pretty well out of the loop about what happened, though now that you were free, you’d noticed a significant lack of your good friend and fellow captain, Levi. When you asked one of his cadets about him after running into Connie and Sasha in the hall, they told you that he’s been in his office since they returned. Not long after being told his whereabouts, you were knocking at his office door with a tray of food and tea, ready to help him with whatever paperwork he surely was busy with.

“Who is it?” He answers your knocking after several seconds of silence, and you wonder what he’s doing.

“Y/N.” You reply.

“Go away.”

“Not a chance.” You say, opening the door against his wishes. Before you can make it more than a couple steps into the room, Levi stands up and goes over to the bookshelf, facing away from you. Thinking nothing of it, assuming he just needed to grab a book or something, you continue. “I’ve come with food, tea, and I’m here to help you with paperwork.”

“No.” His voice sounded strained, and you swear you heard him sniffle quietly. Placing the tray down on his desk, you see it. The paperwork he’s been dealing with is a pile of death certificates. Then you see the names, the names of his squad members.. Your heart drops, and before you can think twice, you’ve walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, nudging him to turn around. When he does, he avoids looking at you, but you can see the tears in his eyes, and the redness surrounding them.

“Come here..” You say softly, and pull him into a hug without giving him time to object, one hand in his hair as he buries his face against your shoulder and returns your embrace with a shuddering breath, doing his damndest not to break down in front of you.

“You can let it out, Levi. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” You say softly, carding your fingers through his hair, feeling how his body shakes with sobs that are muffled against your shoulder. Words fail you, so you opt for just holding him through it instead, which Levi actually prefers - nothing you could say would make this hurt any less. You both stay like that for awhile, with you just comforting him until he settles down, but even then he makes no moves to pull away from your embrace.

“I hope you know, you’re gonna have to be the one to pull away, but there’s no rush. Because I’m perfectly happy to hold you like this for as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.” You promise him, turning your head to leave a kiss in his hair. Levi takes a moment to process, to think if he does want to let go, before deciding ultimately that no, he really does not want to pull away from you; and so he holds you even tighter instead.

Minutes go by, though neither of you are counting just how many. Eventually you start to feel him growing heavier against you, only for him to startle back to consciousness when his arms start to slip off of you. A little giggle leaves your lips when you realize he’d nearly fallen asleep standing, and you pull away enough to look at him.

“I think you need some rest, Lev.” Your soft smile and caring eyes do wonders to convince him, though the thought of sleeping alone has become his greatest fear since returning- even more so than it already had been. His anxiety must’ve been evident on his face, because you seem to have read his mind. “I’m happy to stay, if you’d like? I promise I wouldn’t mind.”

“..I’d like that..” He answers after a moment of consideration. Somewhere deep inside, he’s cursing himself for being this vulnerable with you - but you’re you, and Levi knows that you’d never use these moments against him, no matter what.

The two of you head for his adjoined bedroom, and after removing your shoes, you both lay down under the covers of his neatly made, barely-ever-used, bed.

“C’mere.” You order, and Levi doesn’t put up any sort of fight, resting his head on your chest, so that he can hear your heart beating steadily. To ground himself. To remind himself that at least you’re still alive. And he is so, so fucking grateful that you are. Because here, now, with your arms around him and your fingers idly playing with his hair, Levi finds a comfort that he’s never really known, and he finds himself slipping into sleep easier than he ever has before.

“I’ve got you.”

[rommahh]

{this show was off the walls. He looked so good. And the energy was just??}

You stood uncomfortably at your flights gate with Harry. After being with Harry for five shows, your anxiety had reached a peak leaving you to be faced with one of your worst panic attacks before the St. Louis show. Harry didn’t want you to feel so much mental pressure so he suggested that you go home, he even bought you a ticket without consulting with you.

Your shoulders were tense as you stood rigid next to Harry. You were beyond upset and sad. You felt like a burden who being sent away to make everyone else feel better.

“Love, it will be ok. I’ll see you in two weeks for the Nashville show.” Harry comments watching your face scrunch up withholding the tears. “I just want you to see your therapist for a few days.”

“I don’t wanna go. It was one panic attack. Ive done fine every other night and on the bus.” You huff not making eye contact with Harry. “You’re just sending me away.”

Harry feels his heart break in two. “That’s not-“

“We are now welcoming our first class passengers.” He was cut off by the attendant. You grab your duffle on the ground, opening your phone to the electronic ticket. You moved to get in the line but Harry was quick to grab your arm to stop you. You couldn’t stop the tears from welling in your eyes at the look of hurt on his face.

“You’re not even gonna say goodbye?” He whispers.

“Why should I? You said it for me when you purchased the ticket without even talking to me about it. I’ll call you when I land, I love you and goodbye.” You snatched your arm away, rushing to the slowly growing line of passengers.

Harry watched in defeat as you trudged onto the bridge that boarded onto the plane. You felt those traitorous tears push past the surface, your feet feeling like they were dragging behind you- wanting you to go back to your heart.

The entire flight home was painful. All hours spent on the flight looking lifelessly out of the window. Harry put you in first class but none of the comfortable perks could make you happy.

It was weird to walk back into your home with no one there walking in with you or even waiting for you. The house was dark and quiet and you felt scared to even be in the stupid beach side mansion all alone. Times like this made you regret moving in with Harry. This house only felt like home when he was there, any other time felt like your own personal solitary confinement.

Hey lovie, hope you’re flight went well. Having groceries delivered to the house for you. I love you and miss you. Xxx H.

You scoffed. That anger from before bubbling within you. He misses you? You left him on read, the pettiness easing the anger.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up at the small read notification under his sent message. He waited a few moments thinking maybe you just forgot to press send. Minutes turned to hours and hours turned into the next day.

You sat at the dining room table watching the waves eat up the sand and pull granules away at a time. Your laptop sat in front of you after you finished a telehealth therapy appointment. A ring sounded from the laptop signaling that someone was FaceTiming you.

Harry’s icon popped up in the corner of the screen. You hesitated before answering. You couldn’t bare to look at yourself in the camera knowing you looked a mess. Your eyes swollen from the sobbing during therapy. Harry thought you looked beautiful nonetheless.

“Good morning baby.” He broke the silence.

“Hi.” Was all you could muster. This wasn’t the two of you. You both would normally fill a space with sound and giggles and now it was just silence.

“How did you sleep?” He asks. He looked as disheveled as you. Hair messy, face red and puffy.

“Fine.” You didn’t look at him, playing with the frayed edges of your Live on Tour hoodie. Harry huffed in frustration.

“Is this how it will be from now on?” He snapped. Your head snapped up out of shock.

“You’re getting at me like somethings my fault!” You snapped back.

“Well, we didn’t leave on the right foot.”

“You sent me away!” You retaliate.

“No, I did not. You had a panic attack before I went on stage. I had to come on stage late because I was consoling you.”

You flinched at his comment and tone of voice.

“So it’s my fault? I can’t control the panic attacks. It wasn’t like I conjured one up for attention.” His lack of response broke you. “Really?”

“No, I don’t think you did it for attention but it’s a lot Y/N. I want to take you on tour with me but it’s a lot for me and you know it’s a lot for you.” He tries. His words hurt though. You’ve felt like a burden your entire life and to feel that way because of the love of your life hurts even more.

“Ok. Um, I have to go.” You choke out. Harry shakes his head, the weight of his words catching up with you.

“I didn’t mean it in that way. I love you and I only want to protect you.”

“Yeah, protect me by sending me away when things get tough. I’m sorry for being a burden Harry.” You hang up before he could get the last word in.

Harry sat on his hotel bed shocked. He doesn’t know how things escalated the way they did. He made her feel like a burden. His body racks with sobs as he thinks of how his love must be feeling.

The day of Harry’s Philly show you felt uneasy. You didn’t like not being with Harry. You got so used to your preshow rituals with him. It hurt to be left out after being so involved.

Harry felt the same way. His regret evident in the way that he couldn’t stop blowing up your phone with short apologies and messages. He woke up alone in the hotel room on the day of a show feeling like utter crap.

His stomach was in knots and his heart couldn’t stop pounding. Normally before a show you both would share a light meal and have small discussions about nothing. You both would take silly selfies together or watch tiktoks. But now it was just Harry.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, impulsively clicking your contact to face time.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…” He mutters. He lets out a sigh of relief when your face reveals.

“Hi, Harry.” You murmur, your face squished into a pillow, his pillow because it smells good.

“Hi-hi baby.” He stutters fidgeting in his seat.

“What do you need?”

“I need you. You’re not a burden. I want you here, not there but here. I have a show in a few hours and all I can think about is how you’re not here with me.” He cries. You sit up in the bed, tearing up watching your boyfriend cry. His shoulders shook with the sobs that wracked through his chest.

“Harry, please breathe. Your gonna hurt yourself.” You try to calm him down but can tell it’s not working.

“Come back.” He whimpers.

“I-I think I’m going to stay home until Nashville. We both need a breather from each other and I know I need to see my psychiatrist and probably get some new anxiety medication. Which will take the two weeks to kick in you know?” You reason. Harry wiped his face of tears nodding understandingly.

“Ok. I miss you though. I fucked up horribly by making you feel less than. I know you’re not a burden and I’d do anything for you. The stress of tour is starting to weigh on me and I took it out in you when I shouldnt have. I also thought I was keeping you safe by sending you home, but I shouldn’t have done that. Because we are a team, I shouldn’t be making choices for you.”

“Thank you for apologizing. I understand why you did what you did. You were trying to protect me, I know. I love you Bubby.” Harry felt his world come back together at the nickname, a signal that you two would be alright. “You have a show in like three hours, you need to get ready. Eat some food, drink water please, and I’ll go and scroll through TikTok and send you all of my faves ok?”

“Ok. Thank you for being everything to me. I couldn’t do what I do today if I didn’t have you in my life.” Harry’s sincerity made your heart swell.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. We will be alright. Now go!” You urged him to hang up the phone. He gave you one last smile before hanging up.

Watching Harry through some Instagram live wasn’t what you had planned for but it felt good to see him. He even wore the outfit you picked out with Harry lambert, the blue and pink paying homage to fine line. You’re heart gushes when he tells the crowd that he’s feeling really happy.

The next day you have another therapy appointment with your regular therapist, you even phone in Harry to join the call. You felt warm on the inside as your therapist reassured that you and Harry’s relationship was on the right path. She even said that you and Harry were meant to be together.

She didn’t have to tell Harry that for him to already know that information. I mean he had the ring sitting in his pocket to prove it.