#hopefully that means that the next few pages will be faster to finish

[runawaycatwalker]

Part 24. Misaligned Approaches (Oni-Chan 2.0, part A)

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Bonus: The bread lesson Rolland teaches Adrien immediately before this page takes place that I had to cut to save space.

Description below the cut

Alya sits on Marinette’s chaise lounge looking at her phone.  Marinette looks upwards, clenching her fists in vindication.

Alya: Preliminary results about Catwalker are in.  Verdict: Pretty skeevy.

Marinette: I knew it!  Tell me everything!

Alya scrolls through the messages on her phone.

Alya: My informant doesn't have any concrete evidence yet and most of this is just vibes, but...

Alya: Catwalker did specifically mention you by name.

Marinette: What??

Alya: When confronting my informant, Catwalker got defensive and asked if 'someone Marinette knows' sent them.

Marinette places her hand on Alya’s shoulder, looking shaken.  Alya looks up at her with a look of uneasiness.

Marinette: Does that mean he knows you're Rena?

Alya: Or he might be on the verge of discovering your identity.  Either way, I'm certainly not comfortable working alongside him anymore.

From behind, we see Marinette hold a hand up to the sky and clench her other hand in a fist in resolution.

Marinette: Because of Mayura we can't just fire him, but we can contain him.  We'll rely on the rest of the team for all battles and restrict his interactions with everyone.  If he steps out of line, all bets are off and we treat him like he's another akuma.  And we keep investigating.  I just know that he's up to something terrible right now and we've got to put a stop to it!

Rolland shuts a book between his hands entitled Pain.  Adrien holds up a hand and offers a wishful grin.  Behind them is the cabinet of things in Rolland’s living room, including the Lost flyer of Adrien, which is draped over a box.

Rolland: So: Shall we bake?

Adrien: I sure wouldn't mind if you showed me how to make baguettes...

Rolland: Bahaha!  Baguettes!  You are in no way ready to bake baguettes!  No, we start with something far more traditional: the boule!

Rolland holds up a finger.

Rolland: But first: you must wash your hands.

Adrien: Of course!

Rolland: And take off that ring.

Adrien: Wh—what's wrong with my ring?

Rolland grab’s Adrien’s hand and points at the indentations in his ring.

Rolland: Just look at it!  Flour is going to collect in all of those crevices!  It is much simpler to just take off your ring while baking.

Adrien looks at his miraculous in thought.  Behind him is the sink with the handle of a knife poking out of it.

Adrien (internally): I shouldn't take any chances of being caught without wearing my miraculous.  But maybe if I don't stop wearing it...?

Adrien kneels on the ground and uses a knife to cut through the front rubber part of his shoe.

Rolland: What are you doing?

Adrien: Making a hole in my shoe! If I can't wear my ring on my finger... I can still have easy access by slipping it on my toe instead!

Adrien turns his knife aside and uses his other hand to slip his miraculous through the new hole in his shoe.  Rolland’s hand reaches down from above dangerously close to the knife.

Rolland: You are using one of my knives to cut through rubber?!

Adrien: I'll clean it after I'm done, don't worry.

Rolland: That is not the point!

The knife’s edge cuts the back of Rolland’s hand.

Rolland: Give that b—Aaack!

Adrien touches his hands to the bottom of his face.  One hand is still holding the knife, which now has a small spot of blood near the tip.

Adrien: I'm so sorry!  I didn't mean to—!  Please don't fire me!

Rolland: Oh, hush.  It's barely a scratch!

Adrien: I'll get the first aid kit!  Where's the first aid kit?  Do you have a first aid kit?

Rolland: I'll handle that without you.

Rolland waves his hand grumpily.

Rolland: You just worry about washing up my knife!  Without cutting anything that is not food this time!

Adrien: Y-yes, sir!

Rolland slams the doors between the kitchen and living room shut, so that Adrien is alone in the kitchen and Rolland is alone with his collectibles.

Rolland (internally): Don't lose your temper, Rolland.  Baldy's still a child.  He's probably never been in a kitchen before.  Whoever raised him had no idea how it's done.  Teaching him that is your job now.

Rolland digs through the box on his cabinet, one hand picking up the Lost flyer to move it out of the way.  As he does so, Oni-Chan teleports behind him with her sword pointed over his shoulder.

Rolland (internally): Now where did I put those banda—?

Oni-Chan: Where are you keeping Adrien Agreste?

Oni-Chan grabs Rolland’s shirt and holds her sword above his head threateningly.  Rolland is still holding onto the flyer and looks panicked.

Rolland: Aahhh!

Oni-Chan: Tell me where Adrien is before I strike you right where you stand!

Rolland: You mean the missing angel boy?  I don't know!  What does a Chinese monster want with him?

Oni-Chan swings her sword.

Oni-Chan: I'm not a monster!

Rolland has now become frozen in place, covered in splotches of white, red, and black.  Oni-Chan stands behind him, looking back over her shoulder.

Oni-Chan: If anyone else stands in my way, they're getting petrified too.  And for the record, I'm Japanese.

Oni-Chan kicks down the doors into the kitchen.  No one is there, only a slight movement of the window drapes in the background.

Oni-Chan: Hi-yaaah!  Shadowmoth!  He's not here!

Shadowmoth (over akuma connection): The old man must have seen Adrien somewhere.

Oni-Chan: The only sign of Adrien anywhere is on the flyer that man was looking at!  Wait...

Oni-Chan, a butterfly light mask in front of her face showing her communication with Shadowmoth, grabs the Lost flyer and slices through Adrien’s face with her sword.

Oni-Chan: I was promised the ability to track the last person who saw Adrien, but these powers sent me to someone who was just looking at an Adrien picture!

Oni-Chan throws up her hand in frustration.  There is also a closeup of Shadowmoth (also with the butterfly light mask) from his lair, holding out a hand negotiatingly.

Oni-Chan: Do you have any idea how many people are looking at pictures of Adrien?

Shadowmoth: Millions every day.  ...I presume.

Oni-Chan: I will not sift through millions of people merely because you gave me unusable powers!

Shadowmoth: Would you rather I take your powers away and leave you without any leads at all?

Oni-Chan: No!  No, I'll keep my akuma.  But I'm not going to try to get Ladybug and Catwalker's miraculouses for you until after I find Adrien.  You want me to help you?  You help me first.

Shadowmoth: I could create a sentimonster to destroy all instances of Adrien's image until you find the real one.

Oni-Chan: Then do that!

Shadowmoth: I'll need time to prepare the amok.

Oni-Chan starts to teleport away, her expression resolute.

Oni-Chan: Well, I'm not wasting my time waiting.  Have your sentimonster summon me when it's ready.

Cut to Adrien and Plagg outside Rolland’s residence, watching as the light of Oni-Chan’s teleport flashes through the window curtains.  Adrien still has the knife and replaces his miraculous back on his ring finger.

Adrien: Do you think Oni-Chan really came here because Rolland saw me on Marinette's flyer?

Plagg: Probably not.  Akuma powers usually work however the akuma expects them to and Rolland was the last person to see you.

Adrien: But her expectations just changed.  So maybe people seeing pictures of Adrien will be tracked by her powers now?

Plagg: Even if you do turn out to be that lucky, you're still better off being Catwalker instead of Adrien.

Adrien: Right.  Plagg, claws out!

--

Bonus Scene:

Rolland holds up a hand invitingly.

Rolland: Baldy, you have returned from your morning walk!  Now we can begin your lessons in flour!

Adrien: Yeah, okay.

Rolland: What do you mean 'okay'?  I thought you wanted to be my apprentice?

Adrien pulls off his beanie, looking discouraged.

Adrien: Sorry, I just saw a friend and he... Never mind.  It's nothing.

Rolland: Nothing?

Adrien: Bread is the most important thing, right?  Teach me everything I need to know.  I'm... ready.

Rolland: You are not quite ready yet.  First...

Cut to Adrien taking a bite of bread, happily going ‘nom! nom! nom!’.

Rolland: ...You must eat!

Adrien: Ooh!

Rolland: It's from yesterday, but it is better than nothing!  We French know the value of bread, for we remember the days when we did not have it!

Rolland holds up the book Pain : pour les enfants! and reads to Adrien as he finishes his bread.

Rolland: This is today's lesson: how wheat shortage caused the Revolution!  Wheat gives us flour, flour gives us bread, and bread is life!  And when the wheat harvests failed, we survived by eating whatever awful bread from bran we could afford—if we could even afford that!

Rolland points to a picture of Marie Antoinette holding a purple rose in the book, which has the caption “Qu'ils mangent de la brioche”.

Rolland: But who wasn't starving?  The nobility!  They still ate fancy Viennese breads made with refined white flour!  And while France suffered, Marie Antoinette had the gall to tell us ‘Let them eat cake!’

Adrien holds up a correcting finger.

Adrien: Isn't that quote apocryphal?

Rolland: What?

Adrien: No one ever verified that it was Marie Antoinette who said that.  And even if she did, she would have been just a kid at the time.

Rolland: Bah!  That’s not important!

Rolland holds up the book in front of his face.  On one page, a pie chart with 75% blé (wheat) and 25% seigle (rye).  On the other page is a guillotine surrounded by bread and centering the French flag, below which is the caption “Pain d'égalité”.

Rolland: The point is that the people of France revolted because of this, because of bread!  And once we got rid of those pesky nobles, France could have one bread: the bread of equality!  It would be made from all our grains, from wheat to rye, and everyone would eat it!

Adrien: Sounds much simpler.

Rolland: Very simple!  But it wasn't to be.  People still want their fancy flour.

Rolland holds up his wooden peel in one hand and his metal peel in the other in a pose reminiscent of the painting Liberty Leading the People.

Rolland: But once there was no more shortage of wheat, the government decreed that bakers must follow strict rules.  You want to make a baguette?  It must be the right size and made with the right ingredients!  You run a boulangerie?  You must make your bread on-site!  And you must never close shop without warning!  We do this so no one will suffer the pains of being forced to eat terrible bread—or no bread—ever again!  Because here in France, that is how it is done!  So: shall we bake?

Below are the same images as above, only without text:

[familyabolisher]

how do you read so much? my yearly goal is 30 books and even that is a struggle. i’d appreciate any tips!

i don’t have a life <3 sincerely though, a few things that helped me:

listening to audiobooks – obviously ymmv on this one, i personally find it a lot harder to absorb and retain information through audiobooks so i tend to save them for rereads, but if you spend a lot of time walking/commuting/doing other such tasks where you might have headphones in then audiobooks are great. (i worked as a cleaner up until the end of october this year and used to listen to audiobooks + podcasts all through my shifts, which definitely like substantially boosted the number of books i got through lol)

keeping a list of what you’ve read and what you want to read, including planning out the, say, five or so books you plan to read next – i find this always motivates me to get through my current books + makes me more likely to look forward to the next ones, which makes me want to read them more, which makes me read them faster, etc.

keeping a note of what you think of a book when you’re done with it – often i’m motivated to finish books sheerly for the sake of being able to write down & make sense of all the thoughts that i have simmering in my brain as i read it, be they good or bad. this is also great for developing a more engaged reading practice (which imo is far more important than just reading ‘more’); as you become a more engaged reader, you’ll get more out of reading & feel motivated to do it more often. rather than reading for the sake of reading, having an active + engaged relationship with texts will hopefully make the process an enjoyable one. reading should be a hobby rather than a chore!!

seems obvious, but, try and develop a good feel for what sorts of books you actually enjoy and want to revisit, and try not to subscribe too hard to intellectual hierarchies or an insistence that you ‘should’ be reading one form of text over another. as i said above, you’ll read more if you enjoy reading and feel engaged by a text (and, like, reading should be something you do for the enjoyment lol); try not to subscribe too rigidly to a sense that you ‘ought’ to read particular books and instead pay attention to what interests you personally. obviously challenging yourself and pushing beyond your comfort zone is also a good practice to cultivate, but if you’re working your way through a list of, say, canonical literature, and not finding yourself engaged by any of it, and then wondering why you don’t feel motivated to read very often, it might be worthwhile to look elsewhere. (& the impetus to challenge yourself is, in my experience, one that comes in time, with the prerequisite enjoyment of books.)

get books on your phone!! can’t recommend it enough! gamechanger! download some epubs or pdfs, whichever format you prefer (personally i use epubs and read them in the google books app because i find that a lot more readable than pdfs) and read a couple of pages at a time instead of scrolling through social media.

similarly, taking books out with me when i leave the house – i can read on public transport, waiting at a bus stop, in a coffee shop, wherever, even if it’s just like 2 or 3 pages at a time.

having a consistent time at which you read every day, like, say, half an hour before bed; also, set this to a relatively low amount so that you’re likely to do it even on busy or low-energy days. reading X amount at Y time as a habit means that even if you don’t read at all for the rest of the day, you’ll still get in, like, ten or so pages in that window. 

all in all i would say it’s more important to learn to read carefully and thoughtfully than to try and read as many books as possible, but hopefully this is helpful in developing a consistent habit!

[jannelle-o]

April Travel Paintings aka Borahaegas~~ ✨💜🧡 w/ my sister and her husband woohooo~!! 🥰💙💖 We went to the Day 3 concert and other activities related to BTS~ It felt like a BTS festival and I was a little overwhelmed by everything because I only knew a few general things about them at the time, and it was one of the best experiences I've had in 2022. Probably the best live concert experience I've had in my life currently too~ 🕺✨🎶 This took me way longer to finish than I expected (wasn't expecting months to finish this oops) , but then again this is pretty detailed haha I'm amazed I finished the paintings before 2022 ended for me XD I had so much fun working on these ~ 🥺💙 Also this isn't a watercolor sketchbook, I just wanna put all my travel related drawings in one sketchbook... so that could be why it took longer too? XD;

I hope you enjoy looking through all this~ uwu 💕

( I'll put some details of the trip and of the paintings/drawings in a read more so this isn't hopefully too long for everyone haha 😅)

The first three pages were done during the trip, while the rest were done throughout a couple of months? Some road trip landscapes and bt21 and attempts to paint while in a car heading back home haha I had an accident with over-flooding my pink posca and that was before the concert lol oops sorry Cooky ( also the gray, but that wasn't as bad as the pink ) thankfully none of it got on anyone, but I did have to clean up the bed weh ;o; It was super windy heading back on Saturday ( my sister and her husband had to head back to help out with wedding stuff for friends ) and it was too hard to paint in a shaking car. I thought we were gonna fly off the road and tumble into the desert haha.

For the 3 1/2 page , I wanted to paint one more road trip landscape and also the Seven Magic Mountains. I only painted one of seven in my last Vegas related trip paintings so I wanted to try painting all of them this time. I haven't actually gotten up close to them yet only seen them while on the road, maybe the next trip to Vegas? haha

The rest of the paintings are a summary of the trip heheh~

Café in the City was very tasty, finally had tteokbokki after craving it for a while, mmm jajangmyeon, and I inhaled that bungeoppang even though I was pretty full :d The drinks were also very good~

The Pop-Up exhibit had lots of photo taking opportunities, I really enjoyed seeing all the music video inspired built sets 🤩 The food and drinks we got after the pop-up were really nice. I decided to put a space background for the My Universe Brownie 🌌

Behind the Stage exhibit was super wonderful, all the behind the scene photos of their practicing to rehearsals to concerts was really cool. Also I accidentally touched one of the photos and I was scared we would get kicked out haha :'0 I also liked the stage playing music videos afterwards and liked the design of the vodka can we got while resting so I painted that too 😆

Bacchanal Buffet was tasty too, though I think I got full much faster than expected and didn't get to try as much food Then we went to the Bellagio Fountains to see if they'll play a BTS song... but they didn't when we went there lol 😂 Then the day of the concert we went to a mall for a pop-up shop and you could write notes to BTS and put them on a wall, it was very cute 💜

Concert time wooo~!! 🎶🧡✨💜 My sister is the one with the Cooky headband, I'm the one in the bucket hat haha. The energy of BTS and ARMY in the concert was super infectious, I had so much fun and that energy was still pulsing in me for a couple of days 🤩 I tried to fit a visual for every song they performed, some were a little easier than others haha If I missed any song, I'm sorry I didn't mean to ;o; I wished I practiced all the fanchants :'D I also wished I had added some other things that happened in the concert, but I wanted to keep it contained in one spread c':

Just ahh... what a super wonderful time overall. ✨🥰 Thanks a bunch to my sister and her husband for inviting me to come along, you're both the best and I love you lots and seeing my sister's happiness about all this was irresistible and made me happy too. Also ARMYs were super kind and nice and gave cute freebies and it was sweet haha ;w; Much love to BTS for bringing so much joy and brightness to my sister and to many others. I already thought positively about them for helping her when she needed it last year, and I'm now so endeared with them and deep dove into their discography and videos and things and they have brought a lot of positivity this year for me haha 🥺💜

[weaselbrownie]

U open for a req? Can you do Notice by Little Mix for a Draco smut? Really love your writing aaaaaaa 🙈🙈🙈

notice | d.m

draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary : it’s been a while since you’ve been intimate with draco and you are determine to change that

warning : NSFW! smut, swearing, degradation, praising, overstimulation, breeding kink (?) (lemme know if i missed any)

word count : 3.3k

a/n : feels like i’ve been dead but hopefully i’ll be consistent again :) also thank you for requesting and hopefully i didn’t mess this up 

MASTERLIST

You twist and turn in front of a big mirror that sits on the floor, smiling as your fingertips graze over your figure. Looking back through the mirror to see just the ends of your bed in the dimly lit room. You began to fix your hair into a low ponytail so it wouldn't get in the way of your robe. You looked over the mirror one final time to make sure everything is in place before marching to your boyfriend's dorm. Your reflection was a true beauty, standing so still in the cold atmosphere as the delicate white lace decorates your body, covering only the necessary bits.

Oh, he's gonna love this, or maybe not?

Lately, your relationship with Draco has taken a toll, nothing terrible but it's definitely something, an inconvenience if you will. Since the exams are coming up he has not been able to put down his book, perfecting his skills to come out on top of everyone else. Not that there's anything wrong with being ambitious– he is a Slytherin after all. It's just– he's been benching you to the sidelines, though he still gives you attention he's not giving you the attention that you need. Specific attention that only he can give to you.

The throbbing ache in between your legs has been kicking you in the guts for days and you have been so patient but tonight is the night you change things.

You quietly hum as you pick up your house robe to put on over your lingerie, walking delicately across your dorm as you opened your door, heading straight to the blonde's room. It wasn't a long walk and as you approach the door at the end of the corridor you didn't even bother to knock, slowly twisting the doorknob as you let yourself in.

Just as you predicted Draco is sitting by his desk, drowning in hundreds of parchments and textbooks. Like your dorm, his is also dark, only a little desk lamp to unveil his pale face. You were so quiet he didn't even notice you come in, and so you walk closer and closer to his sitting figure.

With every step, a new feature of his is brighter– clearer. How the top of his head is messy– probably from running his hands over it again and again. How his brows knit together as his eyes wander over the page of the book he's reading. How he bites his lips in between those perfect rows of teeth. Or how his long slender fingers toy with the edge of the paper– the veins running down his flexed arms– oh how much you've missed those fingers.

Right as you revealed yourself from the dark he looked up, his bright orbs meeting yours in the dark. He was happy you've come, you could tell by the way the corner of his lips twitches into a tiny smile he likes to hide– thinking you wouldn't notice them.

"I didn't hear you come in" He whispered as he extended his arms out to reach your hips– slowly pulling you closer to him.

"Well, you had your nose buried deep in those books" You replied with an identical tone, hushing to him in the dark.

Draco was about to set you on his lap before you stopped him, picking up your hand as your fingers grazed over his, grabbing onto it softly as you guided his hand onto your chest. You were halfway there before his hand froze,

"Not tonight darling, I've got a lot t–"

"When is it then Draco?" You snapped at him before he even got the chance to finish his sentence. Shocked at your reaction Draco's brows shot up, looking up at you as if you were an unsolved puzzle with a missing piece. "You're always busy studying! I put in all this effort into myself and– "

"Effort? Not to burst your bubble darling but you came exactly in a school robe, what effort?" He cut you off as you did with him seconds ago.

"You haven't even tried taking it off– oh for merlin's sake–" You continued to raise your voice as frustration takes over you, in which you ended up ripping off your robe– showing Draco everything that sits underneath.

From the way his eyes shot open to analyze every aspect of your body, you really thought he was going to put down his book for a second but everything comes crashing down as he parts his lips. "I'm still busy Y/N," He said as if you didn't just strip yourself in front of him.

He sighs as he continued to speak "Maybe if you go and sit down and be quiet like a good girl, I might just consider your little offer" He finished off his sentence.

"Consider? Oh, you've got to be fucking with me" You started again as the palm of your hands flew to your hips, right when you were about to open your mouth again an idea struck you. Maybe if– yeah that might just work.

"Dray please" Your figure softened as you pouted to him, showing him your big shiny eyes. "I miss you" You continued as you lowered yourself to his lap, your hands slithering around to the back of his neck as you move around in the spot.

"Later okay?" He replied as he kissed your nose.

Frustrated with him you shot out of his lap to stand straight. "Fine, I'll do it myself" You hissed at him as you stomped down to his neatly made bed. You continued your way to the bed as you heard Draco chuckle from behind. You knew he was enjoying this, toying you around on a string knowing he's the only one who could really get you there.

You sat right in the middle of his bed as you got comfortable on top of the heavy sheets. You had a few ideas and one of them has got to work, right?

You began to gently trace your hand from the top of your neck, slowly bringing it down to your collar bone and to the valley of your breast where each sat so beautifully on the cup of your lingerie. You squeezed your breasts ever so gently, drawing out the pleasure that comes with it.

You looked up to see Draco still reading his stupid books. You casually rolled your eyes as you continued your actions. With every movement, you imagined it to not be your own but rather the touch of the boy in front of you. How he would run his hands all over your body before ripping each piece of clothing off.

Your hand left your breasts to continue down to the heat in between your legs. Keeping all eyes on him, you slowly drew your legs apart, touching everything that could be reached before placing your cold fingers directly on top of your cunt.

You were soaked– your juices staining the outside of your underwear. Just then you began to put pressure into your fingers, slowly rubbing your clit through your underwear as you let the little moans slip out.

Draco tensed immediately upon hearing your voice, yet he continued to face the other way, keeping his eyes on the long pages of the book. You resumed your actions and moved your underwear to the side, goosebumps start to form on your arms as the cold wind hit your sopping cunt.

"It's not gonna work princess" Draco called out as he flipped a page. You knew that if you answered he was gonna win, and so you push and push until you could get to him.

Your moans and whimpers grew louder by the second as you worked your fingers faster on your clit, you knew it was starting to bother him, but you needed that one last push to really rail him.

"Oh– fuck" Your moans cut in parts as you found a sweet spot,

"Yes– Oh god Theo–"

The second his name slip past your lips Draco immediately stood up, throwing the book that was in his hand across the room, and sprinted towards you just to rip your fingers away. Right when he touched you, you could see flames behind his cold eyes, anger as you moaned out his best mate's name instead of his.

Draco didn't say anything at first, all you could see was his eyes, roughly as he took both your hands and pinned them right on top of your head on the headboard. "So this is how you're gonna play hm?" He asked as his face neared your own. He was so close that all you could smell was him, how his toxic scent of mint and citrus circles around the air as you inhale it.

You looked deep into his eyes, and you knew he would give you what you wanted all along. The air was thick around you as you didn't answer his previous question. All you could do was wait for him as he trapped you under his body and his strong gaze.

"I asked you a question Y/N, now where are the manners I taught you?" He asked as he slurred his words.

"Y-yes! I mean no or I–" You opened your mouth to answer him yet all that came out was blabber.

"Pathetic" Draco basically spat at you as he pinned your hands higher, making you sit straight rather than slouched down like you were earlier. "Open your fucking legs" He continues as you obeyed every order coming out of his mouth.

You slowly opened your legs as your wet cunt revealed itself, your underwear going to its original position to cover your heat. You could see your juices leaking down the side. You switched your gaze back to your boyfriend on top of you, a small smirk formed on the edge of his lips as he looked into your heat.

You stayed silent as Draco carefully picked out his next moves. Slowly he stroked your thighs higher and higher until he rested his palm right on top of where you needed him, he was so close yet so far away, and so it surprised you when all of sudden he delivered a hard smack onto your cunt, jolting your body awake as your back arches.

He didn't stop there, giving you exactly two more slaps before soothing the covered skin. Tears pooled on your bottom lashes as you looked at him, his eyes still bore into your sopping cunt and his hand strong as he kept both your hands in place.

Draco kept quiet as he slowly moved your panties to the side– exposing your burning cunt to him. Your hole clenches as the cold air swoops over it, the mixture of pain and pleasure clung onto you. Your body jolts once more as Draco gave your cunt another slap, right on your clit where you're most sensitive.

"Fucking Theo" Draco said, breaking the silence. His fingers slither around your cunt as he gathered all the widespread juices. Massaging your clit gently as you threw your head back. "You wanna go down to his dorm now? Show him how much of a cockwhore you are?" He said as each word went straight to your core.

You quickly shook your head but that wasn't good enough for him "Use your words" He spat as his hand broke away from your cunt to grab your face.

"N-no" You quickly said as he tightens his hand around your jaw,

"No who?" He asked once more

"N-no D-Draco," You said as you mentally cursed yourself for stuttering so much.

Draco stayed still for a second, looking deep into your eyes before letting go of your face just to shove his fingers up inside you. He didn't give you time to adjust as he started to fuck you with his fingers.

A loud moan escaped your mouth as you threw your head back and your eyes roll to the back of your head. The continued feeling of pain and pleasure didn't leave you as it got more intense from Draco's actions. His long and slender fingers worked themselves deep inside you, turning you into a puddle under his touch.

"Can Theo do this?" He asked through gritted teeth as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of your sopping cunt "Fucking answer me Y/N! Can Theo do this to you?" He snapped as you failed to answer his question once more.

"N-No he can't" You finally screamed out as he speeds up.

His fingers continued to assault your throbbing cunt as he felt every inch of you. How your walls tighten around him every few seconds due to how good he made you feel. The fact that it's been a while since you've done this adds to the pleasure, it feels exactly or even better than the first time he went down on you.

It wasn't long until you feel like you were about to burst. The tight coil starts to form at the pit of your stomach as Draco moved to kiss you down your neck. "This is what you wanted right?" Draco mumbled against your collar bone.

"Yes– please I'm so close" You moaned out loud once again.

You were right on the edge, screaming his name as the once silent room was now filled with the sound of your filthy moans and slick heat. Draco didn't have to do much to get you there and so he continues as you felt your walls tighten and your breath hitched. "Oh, I'm gonna cum– Draco fuck.."

Suddenly he stopped his actions, pulling his fingers out of you as you whined at the loss. "But as I remembered you wanted Theo, not me," He said as a smirk grew on the corner of his lips.

A feeling of panic grew within you as Draco started to get up, without thinking twice you grabbed onto his wrist keeping him from standing up, you got up on your knees as your face met his. "N-no no please, I only want you" You brought your hands up to cup his face as you peck his soft lips. "I'm sorry please–". The room fell into silence as you tremble in front of Draco. Just as you were about to speak again, he opened his mouth.

"Get on your hands and knees"

Your eyes widened as you slowly let go of his face, scrambling back onto the bed to get into position. You settled down as you faced the headboard, arching your back just like he taught you. You couldn't see him but you could hear the light shuffling behind you and soon the warmth of his hands on your hips.

"My poor baby, you want to come don't you?" Said Draco as his fingers work to slide your underwear down– the cold air meeting your open cunt once more. "Let's see if you deserve it" You jumped as you felt a tongue flat on your cunt, slithering around as it works down on you. It didn't take long for that one familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach to return.

You arched your back further, shoving yourself to him to finally reach orgasm yet he surprises you once more. You knew you were close but as soon as that feeling came you felt the loss of his tongue on you as the air filled his spot.

"Draco please– I'm sorry" You choked out as another orgasm was robbed from you. He didn't reply as he simply taps your lower back. Before you know it you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.

"Are you sorry though?" He said as the tip of his cock slips into you "For all, I know you're just a cock hungry whore" He continued as he pushed more of himself into you "Willing to take anyone to fuck you" His hands made way to your hips, gabbing onto them as he rammed the remaining of himself into you, forcing his way in– taking your breath away.

You felt every inch of him, ripping his way through you as the pain and pleasure continued to linger. Just as you were about to answer him, he abruptly pulled back and slammed into you, giving you merely seconds to adjust before repeating his actions.

Then and there he started to pound into you, taking all the air from your lungs. You felt him- his hand as one left your hips to grip your throat, slowly lifting you up so that your back meets his chest.

"You're mine..." He said as the grip on your throat tightens "...And I'm not sharing you with anyone" The feeling that was robbed from you twice started to come back. Your walls tighten as Draco's other hand snuck down to your clit, rubbing in fast motion as you struggled to keep still. "Did I make myself clear?"

You had a hard time processing his words as his cock and his fingers work on you "Y-Yes– Clear Draco" You spat out as the feeling becomes too overwhelming. You couldn't think straight but you knew you were close. Your moans became louder as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the darkroom making you dizzy.

You could hear Draco talk and groan behind you but you couldn't register what he was saying. "I'm c-coming– Please can I cum?" You started to stutter as the feeling sits on the edge of your body. "Please Draco please can I– fuck" You lost your breath as he didn't slow down his movements.

"Go on then, show me how good you can be coming on my cock" He whispers into your ear as you let go. Your hands grabbing onto him as he helps you through your high, continuing the motion on your clit and pounding into you as the feeling grew stronger and stronger. His hand slowly unclasped your throat– letting the air flow through you again. He guided you through it all just like he always does but he doesn't stop there.

"D-Dray too much -p-please" You whined pathetically as he continued to rut into you, overstimulation started to take over you. Black spots started to appear at the edge of your vision and your consciousness started to slip.

"I'm not done darling– you wanted this so be a good girl and take it," He said in between groans as he speeds up once more. You continued to moan and whine as he reached his high.

Finally, his hips began to stutter, his thrusts becoming uneven as his breath hitched behind you. Draco held onto you as he was approaching, making you feel the warmest of love at the pit of your stomach. "Fuck Y/N" Draco groaned as one of his hands reached out to grip the headboard.

Soon you felt him come inside you, shooting white ropes of cum deep into you as he finally stops his movements completely.

His deep breathing could be heard from behind you as he slowly pulls out from behind you and guides you back down onto the mattress. "Hold it in" He whispered as he turned you to lay on your back.

You could feel your eyes stutter and Draco moving from somewhere above you. The warmth of his palm made contact with your skin as he glides them up and down the side of your legs. "Dray–" You whined as you could feel yourself returning from the fizzy headspace, moving around as you slowly sat upright before you were stopped by him once more.

"Oh no we're not done here," He said as a small smirk formed the edge of his lips. You wanted this, and now you will have to sit in for the whole night as you two caught up on what you've missed.

TAGLIST : @microwavedhampster @o-rion-sta-r @willowmores @whenuwereyoung

[fireflyjunkie]

FEEL SOMETHING

(A Sanders sides Angst one-shot fic)

Part 1

4,391 words

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️

Razor blades

Self harm

Gore

Numbness

Logan angst

Confrontation on self harm suspicions

Summary:

Logan is tired of being the cold, emotionless robot that everyone perceives him as. He’s repressed his emotions to such a great extent that he genuinely doesn’t feel anything major anymore. He does have his nightly break-downs sometimes, but he needs more than that.

However, this is where roads begin to cross. Logan feels that it would be nice and beneficial to experience strong emotions, but he doesn’t know if this feeling is stronger than his fear of expressing such things. Being viewed as a joke and not being taken seriously is his worst nightmare. Because of this, the logical side just keeps up his stone cold front to avoid being weak.

This dilemma Logan had found himself in really frustrated him. No matter how hard he tried to think of a solution, nothing ever satisfied both ends of the spectrum. The best he had come up with was to keep up the front when he was with the others and then let himself break down at night when no one was around, and even that didn’t help him nearly as much as he wished. This eventually led him to looking for answers online. One search led to another, and Logan has figured out something that might help him. It’s a bit risky, and he’ll have to hide it from the others, but he knows how to be safe with it, so he’ll give it a shot just to feel something.

•———————————————————————-•

Part 1

6:34pm

 Logan was sitting at the dinner table with his three friends as they ate their meal. Nothing unusual about the evening, they had their casual little chats and the occasional playful banter from Roman and Virgil, with Patton butting in every so often. Logan kept his focus all on the plate of food in front of him. The paternal figure had worked hard to make this, he wasn’t going to let it get cold. Plus even if he wanted to join the conversation, he wouldn’t even know what to say. Sure he was the logical side and he had a heap of facts to spit but when it comes to the jovial friendly conversations the others usually shared. He truly couldn’t find the words to contribute something meaningful into the atmosphere, so other than correcting a false statement, he kept silent.

“Now Virgil, I’m just saying that a kid would be much more excited to watch a movie like Alice in wonderland and we all know it!” Roman exclaimed to the emo sitting across the table from him. It’s not at all surprising that the current conversation taking place was one about Disney. Especially when it was Virgil and Roman who were the ones bickering. “I mean all the bright colors and such a classic story is bound to win a kid over!”

“Uhuh sure, like kids would want to watch a film about a bunch of mentally ill people on an acid trip. Plus, the queen of hearts is scary for them,” Virgil retorts, glaring at Roman before taking a bite of his food. “The princess and the frog is clearly a superior movie. It’s about an independent hard working woman who doesn’t need a man to help her achieve her goals, like are you kidding me? And she helps him out, that is a nice change for once.”

“Yea I cannot argue with that, we stan Tiana,” Roman admits, leaning back in his chair. Logan was about to question the prince about the term he just used, but decided against it, keeping quiet.

“But the shadow man is scary!” Roman continues.

“Uh, no. ’I’ve got friends on the other side’ is such a bop. But I am one of the friends on the other side,” Virgil pulls his signature 2000’s MySpace emo face. ‘Bop’. Logan remembers what that meant. He had to ask Roman about it later to make a vocabulary card.

“Oh my god can you get any edgier?” Roman asks the snickering Virgil across the table as he rolls his eyes and goes back to his food. The only thing Logan could think of at this time is how useless that conversation was. Their frivolous arguments had no solid points or evidence to back up their argument if they were trying to persuade the other. He chose not to say anything so as to not further encourage them. Instead he had just yet again kept quiet and his focus was on finishing his food so he could retire to his room.

“So Logan, are you almost finished with your work?” Logan’s head snapped up when the mention of his name came from Patton. ‘Work.. it was always work.’

“No, Patton. There are still a few tasks to be completed that need to be completed tonight,” Logan states, adding on that last bit so hopefully he isn’t bugged with having a ‘family night’ as Patton and the others like to call it. Which, it doesn’t make any sense considering the fact that none of us are actually related.

“Well, once you are done with that, do you wanna come watch a movie with us!?” The parental side excitedly asks. Logan internally cringed at Patton’s use of grammar, but more at his failed attempts at getting out of this without having to ask. It’s not that Logan didn’t like the others, it’s just that tonight specifically he wanted to be left alone. Sometimes spending time with them is considered a good thing to him because he knows that he needs to take breaks from his work sometimes and Patton gives him an excuse to do so. Also, knowing that Patton wants him there helps him feel less like a robot, but that feeling quickly returns when they don’t even care to ask him his opinions for the movie choice.

“Oh.. that’s ok! There’s always next time, right?” Patton sounded a little disappointed, but supportive nonetheless. “Well I wish you good luck with that, Logan!”

“Thank you, Patton,” Logan finishes the conversation while turning his attention back towards his almost empty plate.

The rest of the dinner went by as normal. They all took their dishes to the sink and Patton offered to help Roman complete the dishes and Virgil retired to his room for the night. Logan says his goodnights and follows suit to his own room.

After entering, Logan lightly shut his door and pressed his back against the cool wood. The lights were still off, so he sat in the inky black dark atmosphere staring at the ceiling in order to prevent the dark curtain draped over the contents of his room from playing tricks on his eyes. He didn’t bother finding the light switch; he felt it was unnecessary. It would only illuminate everything that reminded him of everything that burdens him. He hates not knowing.

The logical side leaned his head back against the door and squeezed his eyes shut, the blankness of the dark and the silence began to be too much for him; it made him feel too alone. With no senses available, you are left with nothing but your own thoughts to drown in. Nothing to do but to fall down that hole of endless thinking. Logan’s head swarmed with every emotion he was feeling at once. Every fact he wished wasn’t true danced behind his eyes and pounded on his skull demanding his attention.

Logan couldn’t help but let the tears run down his cheeks. They started rolling faster and he held his hand over his mouth, choking back a sob. He hated doing this, but he had to if he wanted to remain sane. He just felt so vulnerable and embarrassed. Logan felt his legs begin to shake so he slid down the door to sit on the floor. God he hopes no one comes to his room.

The logical side stayed on the floor like that for a while. He didn’t know how long, but he was surprised when he looked at his phone to find he had been there for almost thirty minutes. Once the crying had for the most part stopped and Logan realized that it didn’t really help at all, he decided to get up from his spot on the floor and turn on some lights. He had reached for the plug connected to fairy lights strung around his room and plugged it into the electrical socket, illuminating the whole space with a soft Caramel colored glow. The lights were a gift from Patton last Christmas, the parental figure had gotten some for everyone in the house. At first the logical side thought they were childish and impractical due to him already having a light in his room, but Patton persisted so he put them up and once he saw how they casted a honey coating to all the contents of his bedroom and how the atmosphere instantly shifted from sharp to calming and gentle, he decided that they weren’t that bad.

After his eyes had adjusted to the light, Logan walked into the bathroom that he has in his room and shut the door after turning on the light. The sudden contrast of the soft light of his room to the harsh light of the bathroom only worsened his growing headache so the first thing he did was retrieve the Ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet and swallow two. After that he took his glasses off and placed them on the side of the sink before proceeding to wash his face of tears with warm water from the faucet. After he patted his face dry with a towel, he took a minute to just look into the mirror. He took notice of his cold, dead eyes that were a navy blue, but despite being such a bright color, his eyes looked more dull and grey. ‘No wonder the others think I’m a metaphorical robot.” He thinks to himself. He decides not to stay there any longer or else Remus might hear him drowning in his thoughts and show up so he grabbed his glasses and started back towards his room.

Logan didn’t know what to do now. He’s already cried a bunch but that didn’t help. He just sat on the edge of his bed trying to figure things out. The laptop sitting closed and still in his desk caught his eye. ‘There may be an article on the internet explaining my situation.’ The logical side thought to himself before he got up and made his way towards his desk, pulling out the chair and sitting down. While he opened the device up and typed in his password, he thought about what he was going to type into the search bar. While the Google page displayed on his screen awaiting his questions, Logan’s fingers moved to type in the first one that came to mind; ‘How to feel when you are numb?’

Once he pressed enter, he proceeded to scroll for what he was looking for. He passed a bunch of articles about physical health and stuff like that. ‘Perhaps I worded it incorrectly?’ He thought to himself before seeing something that could potentially be what he was looking for. It was a link to a twitter post. It was titled ‘I don’t feel anything. I do this to feel something,’ and Logan thought that would suffice nicely to his needs. Though, the side wasn’t prepared for what he was going to see when he clicked it. Blood. Lots of blood. Cuts all up and down the poster’s forearm that could be recognized as dermis and epidermis level cuts. And finally, a bloodied double edge razor blade sitting calmly in a warm crimson pool on the counter top.

Logan gasped upon the image displayed in front of him. It wasn’t too intense but seeing a part of the human body all cut up didn’t make him feel too comfortable, but he was slightly intrigued. He was kind of confused why the gorey photo was related to what he was looking for so he decided to look into it further; only because the text part of the post seemed to relate a little to his state of mind.

The logical side scrolled down past a few more photos of the same cuts just at different angles. He kept observing the images while trying to think of where to go from here until he decided to use the tags the original poster had provided with the text to research further. He viewed 10 or so hashtags of random things to figure out what the point of this was. Some of them just confused the side, but one of the words he recognized from an article he read a few months ago when Roman fell into a deep depression and he tried to gather as much information as he could to help him because the others were worried and terrified for him. However, he never had to use much information because they had luckily gotten him out of that mental health decline before anything terrible happened. Well, at least to his knowledge. The tag in question reads as ‘self harm’. Now Logan felt a little stupid because he knew what this was before, but a little clarification never hurt anyone.

He had to admit, he was a little taken aback by the fact that what he was experiencing was linked and related to self harm but he decided to explore more under that subject to further understand it. When he clicked on the tag, he was exposed to pages and pages of self harm. He stopped at one particularly disturbing one. It was a video of a girl with a straight razor that resembled that of what a barber would use. In the video, she had pressed as hard as she could and with one clean swipe, the fat inside her arm was exposed. By this point, Logan was feeling a little sick to his stomach on account of what was displayed in front of him. The video however kept going. The girl dabbed the open wound with a white towel, so the amount of blood that was being soaked up was very visible. The girl picked the weapon up again and placed it in the center of the cut and proceeded to apply pressure while she dragged the blade along her arm at a painfully slow speed. When the pool of blood was soaked up, fascia was exposed and Logan really wanted to look away but he couldn’t. He vaguely understood the premise behind self harming, but witnessing it to this extent kind of confused and scared him.

Luckily the video stopped there and Logan closed it out and continued to scroll through the page. He did not find much there other than the pictures and videos of people cutting themselves and he was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable, almost like what he felt when he was under the effects of Virgil’s room; and for that reason he decided to close out this tab and search elsewhere. The logical side really didn’t know why he was so intrigued to this certain coping mechanism. He knew it was very unhealthy, but he couldn’t let it go.

After a few google searches about the topic of self harm and a few articles later, Logan found one specific body of text that piqued his interest. It was basically describing the effects self harming has on the brain and why so many people do it and says it helps. He read through it and the information he gathered was rather interesting to him. Basically, the context of the article was explaining the science behind why self harming was addictive and why some people do it in the first place.

‘So, cutting myself will release neurochemicals in my brain that mimics that of dopamine? Fascinating..’ Logan thinks to himself. The side takes a minute to think it through. Was he actually considering this? I mean, there is scientific evidence that proves that doing this will help him. Logan ponders a bit on that last point, basically pushing him to do it. He just resorts to searching for reasons not to go through with it at this point. Only two reasons came to his mind when he tried to think up reasons to push the thoughts out of his head. The first was the safety aspect of it. Of course when you are cutting yourself there are things that can go wrong; however Logan felt confident enough that he knew how to do this safely. He knew where the vital points were on the human body so he knew where it was safe to cut as well as how deep to go. He also knew how to properly dress the wounds and how to take care of them so they didn’t get infected so the logical side could figuratively throw that worry out the window.

The only factor that was left in play affecting Logan’s decision in going through with this is the guilt he would have to face if the others found out. With Patton having gone through a situation similar to this when Roman was having severe mental health issues and when Virgil ducked out, Logan would figuratively (and almost literally) have the blood on his hands just adding it to the list. He knows that Patton always tries his hardest to do things that make everyone as happy as they can be, and oh the lengths he would go to do that. Let’s just say that the parental side has had many sleepless nights on account of helping someone else. But surely if Patton had ever found out about all the things Logan hasn’t told him, it would make him feel like he hasn’t been enough for people even more than he already does, even and who knows what could happen to him when that happens and he lives knowing that three of his friends have been struggling.

Logan had to ponder on this one for a minute. But with him being logic and all, he brought up the point that the way Patton was thinking about things is untrue and if he had to, Logan with a little of Virgil’s help could sit down with him and possibly explain things in order to pull him from that mindset.

He quietly hummed to himself, feeling accomplished at finding a solution. This satisfied feeling quickly deteriorated as confusion began to spill. Why was he feeling this way about something so grim? Why was he so compelled to stand up to get that spare razor that lay waiting in the bathroom cupboard? He thought it was even irrational to consider doing such things but it just felt like something that could actually help him, and he needed it.

He didn’t know what made him do it, but something in him made him push himself out of his desk chair to shut his laptop without powering it off and making his way to the bathroom. Once inside, he quietly closed the bathroom door. He opened the door of the shadow box, but for some reason it felt super slow like in a dramatic movie. He didn’t know why his hands were shaky when he spotted the razor and went to gently pick it up.

Just then as he examined the weapon in his grip, he felt the adrenaline pumping. It all just set in. Oh my god he was actually going to do this. He was just moments away from his destination. He gulped down a nervous lump in his throat as he examined the perfectly new blade for any rust. The side didn’t understand why he was so nervous; he knew how to do this safely so why was he so scared? Maybe he’s afraid of the pain

Logan however quickly dismissed this thought so that it doesn’t chase him out of a decision. I mean he would only seem MORE weak if he pulled such a pansy move. It shouldn’t be too bad.

He started by washing the blade and his forearm with warm water just as a precaution. He shakily held the blade horizontally over his wrist. Deep breath in and-

Slice

He ran the blade across his skin and then exhaled the breath he was holding. He sort of relaxed when he realized that it wasn’t that bad and that he was ok. Still, he checked the damage. It was a cut on the epidermis layer of the skin so nothing bad. Even so, he watches the blood bead along the clean line in fascination. It started to drip a little but that was caught with the towel that Logan pulled off the towel rack. He gently pressed the cloth to the cut and when he pulled it back, he closely watched as blood refilled the small wound. He was satisfied with his work and for some reason, he couldn’t stop looking at it. He wanted more.

So that’s what he did; the side made a few more clean lines parallel to the first one he made. He would stop to just watch the blood, then soak it up before watching how it refills again. Logan found himself admiring his arm from all angles, wearing these cuts like some sort of sick and twisted accessory. Logan continued to leave a few more little cuts, holding his arm over the sink to not make so much mess with blood (and to not ruin his favorite button up shirt).

The logical side went for one more and pressed a bit harder this time. When he swiped the blade, white was exposed before blood started to seep out from the edges of this deeper and wider cut. Actually being able to see the inside of his arm like that kind of scared him. He recognized this as the dermis level of skin. It made him a bit uneasy how he could turn his arm sideways and see the cut gape a bit, but he couldn’t stop looking at it. He thought if Remus was here, he would have said it looked like a mouth.

After that tiny scare of going deeper, he decided he was done with this for the night, afraid of going farther than he already has. As he started cleaning the blood from his arm and his sink, he was thinking over his success rates with this exercise. He had come to the conclusion that this had done what he wanted it to for him. He smiled to himself as he looked at the fresh cuts. The smaller and thin ones have already dried and scabbed over, but the deeper one he had just done was still filling with blood after each time he soaked it up, but it was slowing down. He doesn't know if he smiled because the treatment worked or if he was just proud of what he had done, but to him it just matters that he got a smile out of it. Once all the blood was cleaned up, he opened the shadow box again to retrieve the bandages. Carefully, he wrapped his arm in a secure bandage and put the rest away. The pressure of the cloth being wrapped tightly around his arm felt oddly nice and contrasted with the burning sensation on his skin from the contact.

The side stops moving and stands perfectly still when he feels a presence in his room. His heart dropped out of fear in realizing that this is the worst time to be here for obvious reasons. He slowly reaches for the doorknob of the bathroom and turns it, trying to prepare himself for whatever is about to happen. When the door was opened, it revealed Remus sitting on Logan’s bed just looking around.

“R-Remus, what are you doing here?” His voice was shakier than he wanted it to be. He wasn’t sure if the cause was from what he just did in the bathroom or the fear he had from another side possibly knowing.

Remus’s gaze shifted towards the nerd and the bandage on his arm. “Well, as I am Thomas’s own intrusive thot,” he stopped for a second to giggle at his play on words, “I can sense unwanted thoughts from any other part of Thomas,” he got up from his spot on Logan’s bed to walk towards him.

“I was picking up something from you, not like the normal. I had some suspicions and came to investigate but it seems as if I was right,”

“I.. I’m not sure I know what you are referring to,” he lied. Logan thought it was eerie to hear Remus talk in this more serious manner.

“Yea, no we both know that is a big lie,” Remus slightly smirked at Logan for the fact that he was right and gestured to Logan’s bandaged arm. Logan just avoided the other side’s eyes and held his arm behind his back. This and Logan’s uncomfortable silence confirmed it to Remus and he was no longer smiling, he had a look of empathy and slight hurt on his face. He was also sort of mad at the others because he feels and sees what Logan goes through with them and he thinks he can understand why Logan would resort to self harm.

“Logan, do you need to talk about it?” He asked. Logan has talked to Remus about his situation before, but he didn’t want to talk about this. He just brushed past Remus to go lay his pajamas out on the bed to get changed for the night. “No, I do not wish to speak of this and I ask you to kindly not mention this to anyone else, but thank you for your concern,” he never turned around to look at the other once. Remus just stood there with a slight frown. He then got an idea on what to do and he sunk out without saying anything else.

Logan could feel when the intrusive side left the room and released the breath he was holding in relief. He felt guilt wash over him in the moment. He really disliked lying to one of his closest friends but it was for the best. It was way too early for him to be able to tell anybody- scratch that. He didn’t want to tell anyone at all. He just hoped that Remus would listen and not tell anybody. The logical side thought of what he would do if that were to happen as he changed his clothes to something more comfortable.

He stopped before getting into bed to ponder if he should leave his fairy lights on while he slept. They were left on as he climbed under the cover to keep the atmosphere soft.

The logical side found himself holding his bandaged arm up above his face to admire it. He didn’t know what it was, but knowing what he'd done gave him tiny butterflies of adrenaline in his stomach which led him to a small smile. Logan was never an artist of any medium, but those crimson lines that stain his forearm felt like an art piece to him. It made him feel accomplished and.. happy. And with that, the side brought his arm back under the covers and closed his eyes to be consumed by sleep with a smile on his face.

•———————————————————————-•

Hope you enjoyed this first part :)

Yea a little background, sanders sides is such a comfort series for me, so I started writing this back when I was struggling a lot and I decided to keep writing this now so I hope you enjoy this bucket of angst haha

Part 2 will be linked here when it is up!

[cxptain-carol]

𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧' | 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨

➺ summary: of course it had to be the cool and aloof shoto who you fell for, out of all the boys in class a. for now, you’re content admiring him from afar—but one thing leads to another and now it’s time for you to confess.

➺ pairing: todoroki shōto x reader

➺ word count: 2.7k

➺ warnings: stress/overthinking, general insecurity is mentioned, one bad word (also i briefly mention your quirk & there’s a suggestive comment)

➺ genre: fluff, pining (?)

➺ gender-neutral and racially inclusive reader

➺ a/n: this is just cute cliché fluff that i hope can cheer ya up if needed :)  please enjoy as i abuse italics and ellipses...

You were surprised there weren’t rose petals floating in the air and angels singing, to top off just how ethereal Shoto looked in fourth period. Well, fourth period and every day.

Present Mic was talking but his ear-piercing voice might as well have been crickets with how distant you were from the classroom. You were in a Shoto kind of mood today, and just by reassuring yourself that you were a relatively hardworking student, you let school take a backseat to your uncontrollable heart.

It hadn’t even been that long since you finally admitted to yourself that you were most definitely crushing on Todoroki but that didn’t even matter, because it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep your thoughts clear of him. 

Shoto wasn’t even really your type. He was a bit too quiet and came off a little detached but somehow that just added to your fascination with him. He scared you at first, but now you admired him for his cool nature and genuinely impressive skills. That was really where your problems lay.

Shoto was much too cool and remarkable to like someone like you.

You usually didn’t compare yourself to others (you had a pretty nice Quirk and were good at using it) but of course you couldn’t help but realize you paled in comparison to Todoroki Shoto and it made you unbelievably insecure.

But that didn’t stop you from finding him attractive.

Your right cheek was squished against the palm of your hand, propped up by your elbow on the desk. From your optimal desk placement, it was too easy to watch Shoto out of the corner of your eye, and even turn your head to stare at him when he looked down.

It was definitely creepy, but he was yet to catch you so it was fine.

Shoto brushed his half-red-half-white hair out of his eyes and copied something down, squinting a little bit as he bent over slightly to write. You wanted to squeal but bit your lip to keep it in—he just looked so cute and it was making your heart race.

In the back of your mind, you could hear and process that you were supposed to be paying attention to the directions for something but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Shoto’s serene expression even as he looked up at the board.

Stop it, look away! You were trying to urge yourself but it didn’t seem to work.

Sure enough, Shoto’s bi-colored eyes locked onto yours in a heartbeat and you flinched, jolting out of your comfortable rest and into an upright position pointed straight at the board, trying to ignore the heat that rushed to your face.

✾  ✾  ✾  ✾  ✾

You tapped your fingers on the smooth surface of a clean notebook page, biting the end of your pen as you looked out the window. Most of the Class 1-A students had retreated to their rooms, but you and a handful of others milled around the first floor.

Your legs were tucked under you in your spot on the couch, and you swayed your head slightly to the quiet music playing in your earbuds. There was only one assignment left for you to complete but you were absolutely exhausted already; it had been a long day and you were ready to go to bed. Maybe even think about Shoto before falling asleep.

“Y/N! I was about to go up—wanna come with me?”

You swiftly ripped out your earbuds to see Ochaco, who appeared pretty much out of nowhere, with a bright smile and pink cheeks like always. You smiled involuntarily at the sight of her and nodded, but quickly remembered you weren’t actually finished.

“Oh, um, maybe later? I still have one more thing to do,” you replied, pointing to the blank notebook page. 

Ochaco looked disappointed for a split-second but went back to her usual cute grin, leaning over the back of the couch towards you.

“It’s okay! You don’t mind if I sit with you, right?” 

“Go ahead,” you said quietly, pausing your music and setting the mess of cords aside while she sat down beside you. You gripped your blue pen tightly and started writing faster, but felt Ochaco staring. You finished up a sentence and finally turned to her. She was still smiling, but in a different way. You had a sinking feeling that you knew where this was going.

“Are you gonna ask about Shoto?” You questioned her timidly, already beginning to sweat in anticipation of the upcoming conversation.

She looked into her lap shyly, her smile slightly fading.

“Well, I just noticed you looking at him today and I wanted to talk to you about it. Of course, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to!” Ochaco’s brown eyes sparkled under the lamps as she looked at you, hopefully.

“It’s fine,” you said, cheeks warm and homework forgotten. “If you really want to know, I like him.”

Not even a moment after the words left your lips, there were hurried footsteps approaching the two of you and a bright pink ball of joy was sitting on the next couch over.

“Really?! Y/N, I think he likes you, too!” Mina contained her excitement to the best of her ability.

You shook your head, barely bothered by the fact that another person knew your secret and more concerned with Mina’s unforeseen confession.

“No way! If he likes anyone, it’s probably not me,” you said, looking over at the table Shoto had been sitting at before going up to his room almost an hour ago.

“I’m telling you! I was watching him this past week and he was looking at you, like, a lot. Oh my gosh, you guys would look so cute together! I almost forgot to tell you that, by the way, thankfully I was eavesdropping,” Mina said. She and Ochaco were both smiling as they stared at you, looking convinced that there was no reason to question the validity of this new “information.”

“But there’s no… no way! I don’t really care if he doesn’t like me back, anyway,” you played around with your fingers, uselessly trying to brush off the false hope that Mina’s words had secretly given you.

“Y/N?”

You looked up at Ochaco, who wore a soft expression on her face.

“I think you should tell him how you feel, after class tomorrow. I trust Mina and after thinking about it, it looks like she could be right! I know you don’t believe us but it couldn’t hurt to go after him, right? I’ll even tell him for you, if you want.”

You had been so sure that Shoto barely noticed you that there was a large possibility that you missed some hints. Of course, the other side of you was completely unmovable. But Mina looked so happy, and Ochaco was so excited too… 

“I mean, I’ll think about it,” you said. You couldn’t help but smile as the two girls’ faces lit up.

Mina laughed a bit as she squealed excitedly. “Can I watch the whole thing? I’ll hide behind a wall or something!”

Your face felt hot again as your mind lingered on what you actually got roped into. Confessing to Shoto… alone… with no true confirmation that he even reciprocated your feelings. 

The idea of doing such a thing was so unlike you that you wanted to cry out of fear. There was a lot that could go wrong.

“Y/N, you’re gonna be fine. There’s no doubt in my mind,” Ochaco added, sensing your unease.

You nodded, half-terrified and half-excited as you started stacking your books in your arms to go upstairs. Mina hugged you, still giddy over your answer but you could only feel anxious. You hadn’t even considered confessing to Shoto and now you practically didn’t have a choice?

It seemed like you wouldn’t be sleeping a wink that night.

✾  ✾  ✾  ✾  ✾

Red and white.

Your brain was so preoccupied with imagining all the different ways Shoto could react that those two colors were practically etched on the inside of your eyelids.

Of course, the happy-ending scenarios were your favorite to imagine. You don’t stumble over your words or start sweating profusely, and Shoto says he’s been in love with you since the day you first met.

It’s a little too good to be true.

You recognized that and as a result, filled your head with the possibility of rejection and humiliation at the hands of Todoroki. Each time the clock ticks, you prepare yourself for it. You might have been optimistic in most situations, but your love life was really just uncharted territory and you couldn’t afford to think like that.

The sudden scraping of chairs against the floor and chorus of loud voices alerted you that the last class of the day had finished. 

And for someone who had just spent hours panicking, you felt oddly ready.

“Psst,” a small voice whispered and you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around to see Mina and Ochaco’s smiles of encouragement. You nervously sent one back before standing up from your seat.

“Go, go, go! We’ll take your stuff with us!”

You picked up your pace towards the back of the classroom as Mina’s fingers poked you in the back.

You can do it, you told yourself, slowly easing your nerves. A small smile formed on your lips but it went away almost instantly when you looked at Shoto and your insecurities began to surface.

Shit, he was just too good-looking.

You took a deep breath and walked the last few spaces until you were right beside Shoto’s desk.

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t-

“Hi.”

Your fingers instinctively reached for the back of your neck and you scratched awkwardly, much too shy to look Shoto in the eyes.

“Hi! I was, um, wondering if you could step outside with me for a second? I… I want to tell you something,” you said. See, that wasn’t so bad.

“Oh, sure.”

Why doesn’t he emote?! Maybe he doesn’t care about me at all… 

Shoto stood up from his seat, leaving his supplies behind. He was obviously taller standing up but that didn’t make him any less intimidating. It didn’t help that his resting face was handsome, too. You tried to keep your cool but it all felt so different—you went from fantasizing day after day about him to this.

Once you two found a quiet spot further down the hall, you took another deep breath and looked up at Shoto. 

He was looking back at you, but not in a way that scared you; in fact, there was something in his gaze that made heat rush to your cheeks and brought your hand back up behind your neck again.

“Um, I know we don’t talk that much but I think you’re really cool,” you began, taking another look at Shoto to see that he had tilted his head to the side, eyeing you as if you were a curious little thing that he simply didn’t understand.

“And… and even if you might not feel the same, I-”

A flash of pink moved somewhere in your field of view.

You looked for it momentarily, causing Shoto to look away from you and in the direction of your line of sight. You tapped his arm lightly, giggling a bit as he looked back down at you, slightly puzzled.

“It’s nothing, sorry,” you said, feeling a little less nervous.

“But I was saying that I think you’re really cool a-and I might have been staring at you a lot for the past few weeks because you’re cute and-” Your eyes widened at the words leaving your mouth and you sneaked a look at Shoto, who seemed equally shocked.

“I mean, y-you are cute but that’s not why- wait, sorry… geez. I, um, like you. As more than a friend.”

Damn, you must have done something pretty remarkable in one of your lifetimes to be able to experience the beauty of Todoroki Shoto.

You bit your lip nervously as you awaited a response, but Shoto’s reaction was somehow much better than anything he could have said.

His relaxed stance tensed up in surprise at your words. You could see his hands shift around inside his pockets and you heard him intake air so cutely it cut through the wall of fear that was built around you since you first approached him. But his face was what made your heart flutter with joy. Even if it was just a light blush, you made his cheeks turn pink.

A hopeful smile stretched across your face as you admired him, waiting patiently as he thought out what to say (and you wished frantically that it turned out in your favor).

“Y/N,” you hopped cheerily at the way he said your name, “I… I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I made sure you didn’t notice but I was also watching you. I… think that I like you, too.” Shoto ended his little confession, still pink-cheeked but looking satisfied with himself.

“Really? I mean, wow! I-I can’t believe- but, what do we do now?” You weren’t really looking for an answer; you wanted to jump for joy, maybe even scream. It was like lifting your hood to see the sunlight after weeks of having it drawn shut. You couldn’t tell whether you wanted to kiss Shoto (considering the context of the situation) or just hug him out of blissful relief.

“Well, would you like to go out with me sometime?” Shoto offered, looking down at you, amused at your delight with a hint of adoration in his eyes.

“Yes, of course!” You were done with this awkward conversation: all you wanted to do was feel Shoto’s arms around you. But you knew him well enough to understand he wouldn’t hug you right then.

Shoto wore a small grin as he watched you and after a moment’s contemplation, you beckoned him a bit closer. He obliged, bending slightly.

High off of the rush of the moment, you leaned in and pressed a little kiss to his cheek, right below his scar.

Shoto pulled back slowly, looking thoroughly shocked. You bit your lip again, hoping you hadn’t gone too far.

“W-Wow, thanks,” he managed to say, his face a few shades redder than before. He couldn’t make eye contact with you, instead choosing to stare out the window shyly.

“No problem, I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” you replied, the smile returning to your face. “I guess I’d better get going then.”

You straightened out your blazer and took a step out of the little corner you had been occupying. With a look over your shoulder, your heart fluttered again at the sight of him, flustered and frozen.

“Well, bye Shoto.” You waved at him—he waved back, the rosy blush still prominent on his beautiful face—and turned back around, with a slight bounce in your step.

“Wait, Y/N!” 

You spun around eagerly.

“Would you like to walk with me?”

✾  ✾  ✾  ✾  ✾

“I’ll just say it: I knew you could do it, Y/N!” Ochaco was grinning from ear to ear again as the three of you lounged around in Mina’s room, still in your uniforms because you were far too excited to talk about the afternoon’s events.

“And I’ll just say it: I wasn’t watching Todoroki at all before!” Mina chimed in but the smile fell off your face in an instant.

“So I just went into that with nothing even kind of ensuring that he liked me back? Oh my god, that could have gone so wrong,” you sighed in relief, your head in your hands as you looked down at the floor.

“Well, I was just trying to give you a little confidence. I think this just proves that you can pull any guy you want, Y/N.” Mina smirked.

Heat rushed to your face. “I don’t think I’d go as far as to say that.”

Mina ignored you, opting to lean back in her chair and eye you curiously. “Okay, now we have to start talking about the future for you two—this is just the beginning. When do you think you’ll take your relationship to the next level?”

“What?! I-I didn’t realize we’d have to-”

“Y/N! Get your mind out of the gutter! She did not mean it like that!”

[monsterywriting]

Thenerius - pt 4

masterlist

word count: 7,146

AN: slight warning for mentions of animal death/general farm stuff. i tried not to write anything too graphic, but i realize what may seem pg for me may not be for everyone! i think i made up for it in the end, though :)

When you arrived back home from Alfore, you made a beeline to your room, leaving Thenerius to unload what you bought. From your desk, you grab a few blank sheets of paper from your stack and a pen, writing out a list of chores for Thenerius to do with detailed instructions underneath each numbered task.

By the time you finished and returned back outside to meet Thenerius, you’d filled out two of the papers front and back.

“Do you know how to read?” You ask as you hold out the papers for him to take.

“Of course,” he scoffs as he does, scanning the pages.

You blink at his unexpected reaction, attempting to alleviate his defensiveness, “No shame if you couldn’t. Some of the wealthiest people in the capital couldn’t. That’s what they hired so many scribes for.”

“Well, I said I can,” Thenerius not quite snapped, but he was clearly getting more wound up from you pushing the subject. You realized too late that your response came across as skeptic.

“All right. I put the faster jobs first and the longer ones last,” you say instead, opting to smooth over the topic entirely, “Don’t worry about finishing all of it today, I just wrote what I could think of. I’ll be back.”

“Wait, you’re leaving again so soon?” Thenerius looked up from the list at you, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I have to go to The Deep,” you reply, “It will be fast, just returning something and coming back.”

“What about the rabbits?” He asked, following you into the barn. You had nearly forgotten, the four creatures sitting quietly in their cage sitting in the barn.

“Clear out one of the empty stables and put them in there. All they need is hay and clean water for now,” you worry your bottom lip before continuing, “I don’t… normally leave so often when I’m not working.”

You’re not sure where the need to explain yourself comes from, nor why you feel placated when Thenerius seemingly accepts it.

You clear your throat, taking Horse by his reins and walking out the barn, “Then you can get started on that list.”

Horse makes it immediately clear he isn’t happy to be ridden again so soon - testing your commands to move and only going forward when you press your heels into his belly - but you know he’ll calm down once you reach The Deep and bribe him with a sack full of oats.

You enter The Deep in record time through the side door near the stables that lead directly into the kitchens. There was no one in there besides the new girl, who jumped and nearly collided into the large pot she stood in front of when she turned around to see you standing there, collecting herself and whispering a near inaudible ‘hello’.

She was painfully shy and as quiet as a mouse, and you couldn’t remember her name despite knowing you’d been introduced before. She couldn’t meet your gaze directly, something you knew not to take personally as she avoided everyone’s. You couldn’t help but wonder what she would do once the tavern got busy and all available hands were needed taking and serving orders.

“I need to find Lenora,” you interrupt her rambled apologies, having no patience waiting for the girl to form a sentence, “Is she in her room?”

“Uh—actually, Mr. Thistle is looking for you,” she said, shrinking back when you blinked at her - as though you were a ticking bomb waiting to blow. It dawned on you that this was not her normal aversion to social situations, realizing everyone already knew you spat with Lenora earlier. Great.

“I understand,” you say as gently as you can, “but I need to speak with Lenora, first.”

You emphasize speak, and after a moment’s hesitation, the girl nodded, looking around before whispering, “Mr. Thistle is working at the bar right now. You have to go back around to the main entrance.”

You nod your appreciation, stepping back out and going back around the building to the entrance to the inn portion, passing the main desk with a nod to the person working and climbing up the stairs. You knock softly on Lenora’s door, not wanting to draw the attention of Mr. Thistle, who had full view of you standing on the balcony if he were to look up.

As soon as you hear the door unlock, you push your way in and close it behind you, pausing once you see Lenora’s tear-streaked face. You had been until that point rehearsing what you would say, only planning on saying your piece and then leaving. Now, however, the words eluded you, seeming simultaneously too far and too little. When you finally managed to push them out, it was with a much less certain execution than you had imagined.

“I brought back your coins,” you fish the coin purse out of your bodice and force it into Lenora’s hands, “If you were meaning to trick me into taking them, you shouldn’t have used the embroidered one I gave you.”

Lenora turned over the small bag, her mouth falling open in a small ‘o’ once she saw the leaping frog, her thumb running over the vibrantly colored thread.

“Thenerius told me you thought I was… troubled. In the mind,” you continue awkwardly, going off script, the impromptu speech bursting forth now that you were in front of your friend, “I- I understand your concern. It doesn’t excuse what you did - it was incredibly stupid - but I understand it.”

“You’re right,” Lenora sniffled, tears gathering anew in her already red eyes, “I know I don’t deserve to ask for your forgiveness, but I just didn’t know how to get through to you—so I made a decision. A bad one, that only brought you trouble.

“I heard you speaking with Mr. Thistle that day. How you needed more shifts and- and gold. I knew you wouldn’t any of out help so I thought… Thenerius would be the best bet to help.”

“I’m not… as angry,” you finally admit, taking a long pause to take in the information and form an opinion. It’s true. You know firsthand that worry and desperation can drive a person to take drastic measures, and though you can’t forgive Lenora entirely just yet, you can’t fault her in trying to help.

“Has Thenerius come back to the inn already? I’m sorry I didn’t think matters through-”

“No,” you shake your head, wording the next sentence out of your mouth very carefully, “Actually, he’s staying with us for now. He agreed to work for room and board.”

“What?!” Lenora exclaimed, her recalcitrance forgotten for the moment with the potential gossip, “Tell me everything! Have you slept together yet?”

“Not telling,” you smile coyly, trying your best to come across as though you’re hiding the most passionate night of your life, the full details of which filled with debauchery just waiting for a listening ear, “That’s your punishment.”

You leave Lenora there, her pleas for mercy and just a yes or no falling on deaf ears. Rather than head back out the main entrance, however, you go to the stairs leading down into the tavern, Mr. Thistle immediately noticing you from the bar and watching your descent closely.

“I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you until your next shift,” he said as soon as you reached the bar counter, wasting no time getting straight to the point with his usual bluntness, “What happened between you and Lenora?”

“Personal matters, boss,” you reply with a glance at the lone customer sitting on the far end of the bar, “Sorry it happened at work. It won’t happen again.”

A blatant lie. A week couldn’t pass without someone getting annoyed at someone else at work and starting fights - most much more eventful and public than your and Lenora’s brief exchange of words.

Mr. Thistle looked up at the balcony, then at you, “I take it that means everything has already been settled. I don’t suppose you would be willing to tell me what exactly it was about, then?”

“Nope,” you answer cheerfully, “Now, it’s my day off and you very specifically said you did not want to see me for a whole week, so I’ll leave you to it.”

You could hear Mr. Thistle mutter something about how you all always closed ranks on him once you headed towards the kitchen, but he waved you off nonetheless.

“Wait!” You stopped at the sudden call of your name, just about to step outside, turning to see Lenora and the other girl holding a wrapped cylinder. Food.

You accept the gift with a nod, stepping out into the courtyard with a vastly improved state of mind and a considerable weight off your shoulders, ready to return home and finally eat.

When you do return once again for hopefully the final time that week, Thenerius was hammering away on the barn roof.

You hop off of Horse, looking up at the tiefling in disbelief. Replacing the old shingles had been the seventh or eighth item on your list and you hadn’t been gone long. You couldn’t believe Thenerius could have finished every task before that one in the time it took you to go to The Deep and back.

When he noticed your arrival, Thenerius made his way down the ladder to meet you leading Horse into the barn, still carrying the meal Lenora had packed for you. He was drenched in sweat and had shred his outer layers despite the frigid air, the sun beating down thanks to the cloudless sky.

“You’ve already finished the first page?” You called out once he was within hearing range, hopping off the last rung of the ladder and onto solid ground.

“First page?” He echoes questioningly, your stomach sinking until he lets out a sharp bark of laughter at your reaction.

“Don’t scare me like that!” You let out the breath you had held, looking out at the rest of the homestead, “You mended the fences?”

“Yes.”

“Cleaned out the chicken litter?”

“Did that first.”

“Then took it to the compost?”

“If you’d like, you can go through the list yourself to check,” Thenerius offered, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

“No. No, that’s fine,” you reply, embarrassed by your own micromanaging before remembering the food and holding it up, “I brought lunch. Go rinse off in the river or something while I reheat this.”

The house is much warmer than outside, your mother or Thenerius apparently taking advantage of the new firewood.

Thenerius enters the house just as you’re setting down the plates, looking like an illustration from a strip in a newspaper you remember seeing once - a man who fell into a freezing lake and becomes an icicle.

You peer out the window, barely noticing how dark it suddenly was, clouds obscuring the sun and the tops of the trees bowing to the wind - certainly making the trek back from the river miserable.

“Go sit in front of the fire, quickly,” you wince half with pity, grabbing one of his folded blankets and throwing it around the tiefling’s shoulders as soon as he was seated in the warm glow of the fire, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would get cloudy.”

“How the hell can anyone get in that water?” Thenerius gritted out through chattering teeth, shivering uncontrollably now that he was beginning to thaw out, “I think my stones are still inside my body…”

“The water feels quite nice in the summer,” your mother suddenly appears behind you, both you and Thenerius twisting around to stare at her slack-jawed. Her response to the former made it clear she had heard the latter comment.

You can’t contain your laughter, doubling over when you turn and see Thenerius’ mortified expression - and your mother’s amusement with the situation only fueled your own. It gave you the perfect excuse to not see how he watches you, his embarrassed grimace fading into a soft smile at your mirth while your mother watches the entire interaction with an unreadable expression.

You know she immediately catches on to the significance of Thenerius’ meaningful look, the entire reason for his sudden appearance into your lives undoubtedly obvious to her now.

“Everybody go sit,” you are still slightly winded by your outburst but considerably subdued as you walk over to your chair and plop down, taking a sip from your ale - a generous addition to the peace offering from Lenora.

The smell of the warm stew was heavenly for your senses - beef tips, carrot and potatoes all cooked in bone broth - making your mouth water at the sight. Cows were rare in these parts, Mr. Thistle the only owner of a herd for miles. Beef was the primary dish of The Deep, Mr. Thistle also offering deliveries during the holidays for those who had the gold to spend on it.

“Did Lenora make this?” Your mother breathed in deeply, both her and Thenerius clearly having the same reaction to the food as you did.

You shake your head, wasting no time taking a spoonful in your mouth, “The new girl. Applied to be a barmaid, but truthfully, her talents are as a cook.”

“The quiet one?” Your mother smiled knowingly, “I must agree she’s much better than you or I, though you’ve been making some improvements.”

You roll your eyes at the teasing jab, mirroring her smile as you chuckled. You weren’t a bad cook, but you were no chef, your own cooking style having only a goal of ‘edible’, “I helped in part, at least - harvesting the meat.”

“You slaughtered the animal?” Thenerius interjects - no judgement in his tone but definitely curiosity.

“Of course,” you laugh, nearly choking on your ale in the process, “Where do you think all the meat you’ve been eating comes from? A grocer?”

The conversation continues easily, your bellies filling with seconds and then thirds with ale still left over. You notice that Thenerius stops drinking long before your mother or you. It’s because he isn’t in the company of his crew, you try to tell yourself, but you can’t help the feeling of guilt that gnaws at you saying otherwise - that he was able to stop now that you weren’t continuously serving him.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” your mother grunts, gathering the empty plates before you can even think about getting up. You’re all too happy to let her, glad to see her so invigorated for the first time in a long while. You yourself feel your eyelids begin to grow heavy, the sheer amount of food you consumed beckoning for you to take a nap.

“I should keep working on the list, too,” Thenerius said, beginning to rise.

You place your hand on the crook of his elbow to stop him, “You’ve been up since before dawn and you’ve gotten plenty done today. You shouldn’t overwork yourself now.”

“I’ve had harder jobs. I can handle some farm work,” Thenerius snorted, dismissing your advice and standing without so much as a grunt as though to prove his point, “I’m a pirate, remember?.”

You shrug, too sleepy to seriously argue with his pride. Farm work was definitely different to manning a boat with the wind and current doing most of the work. And he also had an entire crew to rely on - here it was just him and you. The first day you worked on the homestead after so many years, you hadn’t been able to get out of bed the next day. However, you decide as Thenerius leaves to finish the shingles, it was no skin off your back if he woke up sore the next day. Either way, he was still going to work - he had to help you castrate the goats, along with all the other daily chores and whatever you wouldn’t get to on the list today.

You grab two woven baskets from the kitchen and go outside soon after Thenerius leaves, wishing the sun was still out as you walk to the vegetable garden downhill behind the pasture, a buffer between the animals’ waste and the river when it rained.

The rest of your very short afternoon is spent there, meticulously going down each row on your hands and knees pulling out the seemingly endless weeds that grew in your absence, tossing them onto the grass. Once you were confident that you got every last sprout, you began to harvest some of the tubers, yielding a good amount of carrots, potatoes and even a few onions.

Once the sun kissed the treetops and you were engulfed in the shadow of the barn from where you worked in the garden, you began the long process of drawing a bath, hauling bucket after bucket to the house. The sun sets by the time you finish, the water steaming invitingly. Your mother goes first, and you enter right after her.

You relax in the hot water, perfectly contented with your day and more at ease than you had been in a long time, something you couldn’t have imagined when Thenerius first showed up at your home and upended your quiet existence. You look up at the heavens, still able to make out the vast array of stars even through the steam rising to the sky. You watch in quiet awe for a while, only absentmindedly attending to actually bathing.

You only just stepped out the bathroom when Thenerius finally returns, your mother nearly done with dinner.

He seemed in high spirits, nowhere near as fatigued as you had been on your first day. You would never admit that you were wrong to Thenerius, but you definitely weren’t complaining if it meant he would be able to work the next day.

You go  to sleep early, eating while Thenerius was bathing and fast asleep by the time he gets out, tired after all the running around and the emotional mountains and valleys you endured with Lenora.

You don’t dream that night, waking suddenly with the sun still well below the horizon and the rooster not yet crowing his song. You get up anyways, actually feeling well-rested and not nearly as dreadful as you normally did after your days off, having done admittedly little hard labor yourself that day.

After changing into clean day clothes, you trudge into the kitchen to make coffee, Thenerius still snoring in his cot as you pass. He sleeps through the rooster’s first crow, and you let him rest until the morning fog receded from the field and the sky brightened from a dim gray to silver just before the sun broke the horizon.

When you finally do rouse him - first whispering his name and then shaking his shoulder - Thenerius startles, a pained groan leaving him before any coherent word. You hide your smirk, knowing now was not the time for an ‘I told you so’ no matter how deserved, simply waiting patiently for Thenerius to stretch his back, four distinct pops his reward.

“Have some coffee, then meet me in the barn,” you say quietly, waiting to leave until Thenerius nods in acknowledgement, with obvious difficulty.

It was freezing outside, the temperature having dropped significantly overnight, but you forgo your new fur coat, not wanting to get blood on it. You get the hardest part of the entire process done first - separating the three male kids from the herd. You let them out of their stable and into the larger barn area, the group going straight to the far door out of habit. Instead of releasing them immediately out to pasture, you picked out and carried each boy one by one into the empty stall next to the rabbits before letting the rest out and shutting the door behind them. The kids weren’t happy, bleating loudly and standing on their hind legs at the stall door to try to see where their mothers had gone, but the rabbits seemed unperturbed by their temporary neighbors as they continued nibbling their hay.

Thenerius trudges slowly in as you’re putting the loudest two month old in the tipping table, bags like bruises under his eyes.

“You’ll be helping me castrate the boys today,” you announce, handing Thenerius a pump bottle of brown liquid, “This is antiseptic. Your job is to spray them with it afterwards.”

Thenerius glances as the cleaned and sharpened knife in your hand and then at the goat on the table, appearing confused, “You mean-?”

You waste no time, not wanting to keep the kid restricted and stressed longer than necessary, rubbing a numbing paste on the area before making the first incision.

Thenerius is pale as he sprays the final goat, all blood drained from his face as you right the table and release him to waddle back to the large stable to join the other two. You wipe your hands the best you can on your skirt before handing Thenerius the bucket with the discarded testes to give to the chickens. He looks shellshocked, no doubt empathizing with the emasculated goats, even if his pain was an entirely different sort.

“I’ll give you the list of daily chores you’ll be needing to do from now on, then you can get started on whatever you didn’t finish on the list yesterday,” you said, not at all reveling in Thenerius’ stricken look, knowing he couldn’t argue with you after you had so specifically warned him about the very pain he was currently experiencing.

Before anything else, you check to make sure the goats had plenty of hay to feed on since they wouldn’t be out grazing for a while. After washing the blood from your hands and knife, you spend the morning fencing off the area on the side of the barn where the rabbits were kept, the temporary housing working out so well you decided to make it permanent rather than make a hutch from scratch. You would simply cut out a door in the side of the barn that could be opened to let them out to graze in the miniature pasture in the spring. You dug out holes for the fence posts, your plan to eventually make a fence of chickenwire high enough none of the rabbits would be able to jump over it.

Once you were done plotting out the fence, you began the tedious process of tilling the soil inside the fenced area, careful to keep the chunks of pure sod undisturbed. In the newly bare patches, you planted the leftover winter pea seeds from the main pasture.

By the time noon came and went, you had largely forgotten about Thenerius, lost in your work and only catching fleeting glimpses of him in your periphery; a colorful phantom standing out amongst the washed out wood and bluestem grass even more so than he did in the homely atmosphere of the tavern. He flitted around the property, first in the chicken coop, then in the pasture and, finally, nowhere.

You don’t realize how much time had elapsed since you last saw hide or hair of him until you took a quick reprieve to get your mother’s tablets ready with a glass of water. It suddenly struck you that you hadn’t seen him pass by the kitchen window at all in the time you’d been standing there, and when you peer out more closely, the only movement you could see was the animals lazily grazing in the pasture. His horse was still grazing with all the rest, so he hadn’t taken off. You try to think of the last time you saw him, but the brief flashes all blended together.

You left the tablets and water on the nightstand next to the bed where your mother rested and went out to milk the goats, mostly filling two pails and then going into the barn - only intending to pasteurize it and having no other motive besides perhaps making sure you didn’t accidentally kill your farmhand on his second day.

Thenerius was standing in the center of what appeared to be a wood scrap pile, staring down incredibly exasperated at his list. You caught a glimpse of a sketch you recognized immediately, having forgotten you’d asked Thenerius to build a rabbit hutch.

Unsure how to say nevermind when he was already working on it - and clearly frustrated with it - you instead walk in with the two pails and interrupt his concentration, “Come help me with this, Thenerius.”

He drops everything to take the pales from you, and you suspect it had less to do with his desire to help you than being able to take a break from building. You let him, grabbing the bottoms of the pails so they wouldn’t jostle as much during the transfer.

“The pasteurizer is over there,” you point, ignoring the giant pile and walking to the small metal contraption. Lifting the lid, you take out the funnel and seven metal bottles from the wire cage inside the main chamber, setting them down on the floor and sticking the funnel into the first bottle. You gestured for Thenerius to pour, moving through each bottle until both pails were emptied.

You place the filled bottles back into their wire slots and pointing at the pails, “Go wash those out and bring back water.”

“But the hutch-” Thenerius trailed off, looking at the unfinished scraps of wood.

“It’s fine, this needs to be done first,” you assure him, motioning for him to go.

Once he leaves, you go to the pile and grab small pieces of wood, sticking them in the chamber underneath the pasteurizer along with some hay. When Thenerius returns, you take the pails and begin filling the main chamber, stopping once the bottles were almost submerged and striking a match to light the hay.

You step back from the soon to be hot metal once you place the lid back on, keeping a close eye on the thermometer.

“You don’t have to make the hutch anymore. I’m just going to keep them in the stall,” you finally admit as you wait.

Despite still working as hard as he did the day before, it was evident that Thenerius was in pain, taking care not to move too much and antsy as he stood behind you.

“You can sit, you know. This is going to take a while.”

“I’m afraid if I sit I won’t be able to get back up,” Thenerius replies, his grim expression unchanging even when you burst into laughter.

“Suit yourself, then. You could always end the day early. Honestly, you’ve done more these past two days than I would be able to do in a month.”

Even your rare praise isn’t able to convince Thenerius, who resolutely denies your offer to rest. Deciding to get dinner started as the sun lowered in the sky, you instruct Thenerius when and how to close the bottom chamber and where the mitts were to take out the wire cage so he could bring the milk to you in the kitchen.

Later that evening, Thenerius all but collapsed into the chair next to you, favoring one leg where one of the goats rammed into his side when he was herding them back into the barn. Earlier, you had considered asking him to also draw the bath, but seeing how ravenously he ate his cold dinner, you were glad you had taken pity on him and done it yourself, your mother already out the bath.

“Go wash up,” you prod his leg with the side of your foot, careful not to hit it too hard.

Groaning, Thenerius painstakingly rose back to his feet and you could have sworn you heard him utter a few curses under his breath as he shed his boots and jacket at the door before trudging to the bathroom.

You enter a few minutes later unannounced, Thenerius immediately splashing down chin-deep into the water in an attempt to hide himself, stammering nonsense at your sudden appearance.

“Calm down, I just brought you some magnesium sulfate and scented oils,” you interrupt sternly, setting your supplies down and sitting on the edge of the tub directly behind Thenerius, who had turned away from you.

You pour a generous amount of the salt into the bath, enough that the water becomes opaque. However, before you add the oil, you hesitate, noticing Thenerius’ back is still streaked with dirt too stubborn to be rinsed away. You tell yourself to just pour in the oil anyways, or even just leaving it there to do himself

“Lean forward,” you find yourself saying instead, grabbing a clean washcloth and dunking it in the water, “You missed your back.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I don’t want to have to clean up dirt after you.” The words come out a bit harsher than you mean them to be, but you succeed in getting Thenerius to comply with your command, his chest submerged under the steaming water and exposing his back.

Scars of all kinds were scattered all over his skin, some paper-thin lines of lavender with the passage of time while others were a deep red wine - old burns and bullet holes. You lathered the bar soap into the washcloth, but your attention kept returning to the raised and puckered skin the width of your forefinger, ten overlapping stripes horizontal across the expanse of his back. The remnants of a particularly brutal lashing.

“You’ve never told me the story behind these,” you murmur, pressing the sudsy cloth against his shoulder blade at the very edge of the topmost scar, the ridge much more pronounced than the others; likely the first. You feel the phantom pain in your back, easily picturing the painful healing process. Thenerius had always bragged to you about his scars, but you never saw these particular ones - never even been shown his back, for that matter.

“I was young when I got them. Stupid,” Thenerius said, the bitterness in his voice melting into a soft sigh as you rubbed small circles around his shoulder blades.

Thenerius thankfully made no comment as you purposefully moved the cloth down his back, at first only to remove the dirt, but soon losing sight of your mission and working out the knots of his muscles, every so often splashing warm water up to rinse it. You loosened the tension in one area before moving on to the next, continuing long after all the dirt was washed away. He could not, however, hide the small sounds that escaped whenever you brushed against a particularly sensitive spot.

Your feel increasingly embarrassed with every hiss and grunt, but you continue on, guiltily enjoying every noise elicited by your hand, seeing just the back of his head leaving you only able to envision how he reacted - eyes screwed shut, lips falling open ever so slightly. Your imagination ran wild when your knuckles brushed against his side and he moaned.

It had been out of pain, the flesh bruised from goat horns, but your face burns and you swallow thickly nonetheless. You quickly finish, stopping right where his back meets the water and quickly turned to wring out the washcloth and drop it in the basin. Unable to meet Thenerius’ eyes just yet, you smell each bottle of oil, using your feigned deliberation as an excuse to keep your back to him.

Finally grabbing the first bottle after smelling each twice. It was citrusy, with the faintest hint of some herb, you think.

“Soak with this for a bit. It’ll help with the soreness,” you clear your throat, handing over the bottle. Thenerius had been falling asleep with your ministrations, but now snapped awake with the cold glass making contact with his palm.

“I shouldn’t- you still need to bathe and the water will be cold,” Thenerius begins to argue, rising from the water the slightest bit without realizing it, but you act quickly, pressing your hands down on his shoulders to keep him submerged.

“If you don’t, you won’t even be able to get up tomorrow,” the gentleness in your voice feels foreign, but it is sincere, “I know a lot about these things. Trust me, it can get a whole lot worse.”

Thenerius immediately relaxed under your touch, leaning his head back onto the rim of the tub and the points of his horns stopping on either side of your head, fortunately his eyes closed so he could not see you staring wide-eyed down at him. It took all your willpower to keep your palms rooted in their spot, your fingers itching to move lower. It would be a simple thing, to just… glide your hands down his chest, over his stomach - resting your chin on his shoulder - and wrapping a fist around his—

You are brought abruptly back into reality when Thenerius’ soft snores reach you, extracting your hands like a burn and quickly pouring the oil into the water. Once the bottle is empty, you quietly abscond.

It’s nearly half an hour before Thenerius finally exits, apologizing profusely. You had been pacing in the living room clutching your night clothes, avoiding every creaky floorboard with well-practiced coordination. As soon as he steps out of your way, you brush past the tiefling and shut the door.

The water is frigid, which you’re glad for, intent on freezing the molten heat that had grown in your core. You don’t know what’s come over you. Dangerous ideas consumed you the entire time you waited, impulses made all the more tempting with the knowledge that Thenerius wanted you; your mind twisted the memory of his confession into words of desire and his innocent noises into pleasured moans.

You scrubbed the dried sweat and grime off of you with just a little too much vigor, your attempt at grounding your beating heart. As soon as you’re finished, you pulled the plug and scrambled out the tub, quickly toweling off and getting dressed.

When you exit, Thenerius is seated on his cot, holding a steaming mug. You had been planning on going straight into the bedroom, but upon hearing the bathroom door open, your mother came from the kitchen, immediately seeing you and holding up a mug for you. Your stomach dropped. You had assumed she’d been asleep as she’d gone into the bedroom immediately after getting out the bath, and now wondered how long she’d actually been awake - if she had noticed the time you spent alone in the bathroom with Thenerius.

Out of habit, you take the mug, the smell of hot cocoa spiked with ale drifting lazily to your nose. You thought she would also drink with you. Instead, she walked straight past you towards the bedroom.

“You’re going to bed already?” Your voice is tight in panic at the thought of being left alone with Thenerius, the source of your temporary madness.

“I’m getting old,” she smiled, misinterpreting your question for concern for her health, her voice lowering to just above a whisper as she brought her lips close to your ear, “and I’m not one to stand in the way of young people’s affairs.”

Your gaze bores into the back of Thenerius’ head. Against your better judgement, you carry your mug to the cot, sitting on the very edge to keep your distance.

Blowing on your drink, you take small sips to avoid burning your tongue. Between the hot drink and the crackling fireplace in front of you, you almost forget your own awkwardness, the coziness only possible with the inhospitable winter outside lulling you into a sense of security.

“I was missing out on a lot with this drink,” Thenerius suddenly broke the silence, mirroring your own careful sips.

You temper your reaction, maintaining a smile you pray conveys a completely normal, neutral interest in the conversation, “You’ve never had hot cocoa before?”

“Never had a need. We usually stick to where it’s warm,” Thenerius said and your smile falters slightly at the implication, sobering slightly from your runaway thoughts.

“Why didn’t you leave with the others?”

The abrupt question hangs in the air between you, the pause stretching without Thenerius reacting to the point you wondered if you didn’t actually ask it.

Just as you are about to ask again, Thenerius spoke, slowly but not uncertainly, as though taking a moment to choose each word, an admission that took you entirely by surprise, “I was going to. After your rejection.”

“Why didn’t you?” You sound almost breathless, never before having considered the possibility that your extreme reaction to his proposal would have actually discouraged him. You have assumed that he had arrived with the goal of winning you over. You tried to think of some other possible motive, but you just drew blanks.

“I told you that your friend at the bar asked me to go to you,” he said, waiting until you nodded in acknowledgement before continuing, “At first, I thought she had seen- us. And I got… angry. I was embarrassed and it seemed like she was simply having fun. Then she told me she was worried about you, but that you refused her and everyone else’s offers help. I tried telling her I was the last person you wanted to see, much less accept help from, but she was persistent. Said you were just prickly around the edges, as it were.”

You grimace - a fair assessment, to be sure, but an unpleasant one to be so finely put a point on - but remain silent, digesting the new perspective. You feel dense, not having once considered Thenerius’ feelings about what had transpired between you. You also feel slightly disappointed that it was not his own passion that drove him to seek you out, though you know you have no right to feel hurt, now more than ever.

You down the rest of your cocoa, unsure if the heat or the ale is what burns down your throat, or your own disappointment. Already you could feel your face warm, the sweetness of the drink having hidden the strength of the alcohol.

“I’m sorry.” You’re unsure of what else to say, afraid to elaborate lest you drudge up every negative feeling over what happened.

He only nods, taking a sip from his drink and keeping his gaze fixed on the fire.

“I’ve always wanted to ask this,” blood was rushing through your ears as the ale settled heavily in your belly, making you just a bit bolder, “Why me? I mean—I know Paloma was leaving and she was the one to introduce us, but you seemed- I thought you were in love with her…”

You try to seem nonchalant as Thenerius chuckles, then deliberates, not sure your ego could take another blow tonight and also as if the question was a completely normal thing to ask platonically during a heart to heart with the man who proposed to you only four days ago. Tova have mercy. Had it really only been that long?

“I didn’t love her,” Thenerius finally put you out of your misery after a long stretch of silence, and you cursed the blooming hope in your chest, “She told me she was quitting. And why—she was in love. What was between us was not… it wasn’t the same. I didn’t know that at the time, I was just selfish, thought of her as mine even though I didn’t consider myself hers.”

You frown slightly, wanting desperately to pay attention to what Thenerius was sharing - obviously a very delicate and sensitive subject - but you can’t help the illogical wave of jealousy rising within you. He hadn’t known you then, only seeing for a few weeks out of the year after that. You shouldn’t have finished off your drink, too all over the place and unable to get a handle on your own emotions.

“I didn’t understand her then,” Thenerius continued, oblivious to your inner turmoil, “How she described the love she felt - to do things for someone else’s sake, rather than one’s own. And to forsake everything, be unwilling to trade anything for that love.”

It was evident Thenerius was no longer talking about Paloma, but of his own feelings for you. However, he had yet to answer your question and you’re unsure if you trust yourself to elaborate, opting instead to repeat it.

“So why me?”

“I’m not sure,” Thenerius admits sheepishly, “I began talking to you. It was the longest I ever talked to anyone that wasn’t on my crew—and about something that wasn’t about anything in particular. And I saw you interacting with others - the tavern owner, the other workers - when you thought no one was paying attention. You seemed so… carefree. Or just free. You didn’t have to worry about making it to the next port, or if you’d be paid. And when we moved on, I couldn’t think of anyone else, be with anyone else.”

You glance over at Thenerius, feeling incredibly warm, like the heat was rolling off your cheeks in waves. The alcohol had given you a buzz - not enough to be entirely gone, but enough to give you the excuse to throw caution to the wind as you observed Thenerius unabashedly.

His downturned eyes made his eyelashes brush against his cheeks, the strong slope of his nose casting an uneven shadow across his face where it veered slightly from an old break. But your eyes were most drawn to his lips - plump, slightly chapped after the hot shower and the corners tugged down into a frown that you wanted desperately to alleviate.

“What about now?” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, and Thenerius seems just as surprised by your question as you do. He doesn’t, however, seem to grasp your implication, if his self-deprecating snort was anything to go by, his next words making your momentarily-fragile heart break for him.

“I completely misunderstood your intentions. I told myself I saw no difference in how you interacted with me and your true friends. And I’m all the more the fool, because I know these things but it has done nothing to curb my useless pining.”

Your countless worries and responsibilities seemed to melt away in that moment, your rational mind telling you a thousand and one reasons not to do what you were about to do holding no power over you. You live in a place where it gets cold, you cannot go with him. But all you could see was Thenerius in front of you, present - a concept you could never before focus on. It was always thinking of the future; what needed to be done, paid for, taken or given.

In the present, you reach out your hand to Thenerius’ cheek furthest from you, turning his gaze from the fire to you. You lean forward, slotting your lips against his softly, but without hesitation.

part 5

[tipsydipsydo]

『© tipsydipsydo』

All listed and linked work (that includes my writings, my fake texts and my moodboards) in here is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

Do not repost, plagiarize, translate or use any of my work in general!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Please respect that. I’ll fight any illegal use of my work!

Thank you.

「Information: Only the unique combination of pictures, the colour schemata and editing of the moodboards is my intellectual work! I don’t own the pictures themselves and all credits are going to the rightful owners!」

➸ Blog Navigation

A post where you'll find all my other themed Masterlists of my writings, my personal sideblog, my fic-recs blogs and so much more!

➸ My Networks

This is a list of all the networks where I got accepted as a writer in their community. Please check them out! 

➙ Information!

All the showed (anonymized) persons on my Moodboards should only symbolizes specific scenes, situations, outfits, jewelry or cosmetics! Nothing of this should make you feel excluded when you have a different skin color, hair color/structure, body shape or gender!

My scenarios and fics should be open for everyone to read, that’s why I try my best to write gender neutral and male scenarios/fanfics as well!

(Some scenarios or fics could still be personalized for specific groups of people or communities where I think they deserve some more attention and love! For example because there is a lack of writings for them etc.)

What I want to say:

We all are the same equal in our own unique existence!💓

I love all of you guys!🤗💓

» Gender «

↬ Female: ♔ [♔-Reader]

↬ Male: ♚  [♚-Reader]

↬ Gender neutral: ♕  [♕-Reader]

» Genre Key «

↬ Fluff: 🌸 

↬ Angst: 🌧 

↬ Hurt and Comfort: ☔

↬ Serious Themes: ⚠️🚫                                                                                

 (For example sexual assault, (mental) illnesses, traumatic experiences, rascism, antisemitism, islamophobia, homophobia, transphobia etc.) 

➙ We can’t take those things easy and I’ll not accept that someone “joke” about it!                                                                                                 

↬ Comedy/Crack: 🌞 

↬ Soft Smut [sweet vanilla~]: 💋 

↬ Hard Smut [kinky stuff~]: 😈 

   ┃ ➙ [💋😈]: kinky smut with feelings ;)             

[Information]

I made a list where I explain what kind of sexual content I’d write, how I interpret different kinks (especially how the Dom-/Sub-Dynamic in my fics work) and with what kind of Smut I’m not comfortable.

 ┃➙ My sexual content Rules!                      

» Other useful symbols «

↬ Scenarios: 💭

↬ “Connected to” (connected to an other scenario/fic/series): 🖇 

 ► Kink-Scenario 😈💋  [♔- Reader] 

[What kind of dirty secret(s) could the boys have?]

 ► Halloween Costume-Scenario  🌸💋😈 [♔- Reader]

[You’re wearing a scandalous Halloween Costume for a Halloweenparty...]

 ► Their favourite Make out-/Sex-Songs: Hyung Line Maknae Line  💋😈   [♔- Reader] 

[Which songs would bring the boys right into the mood?] 

 ► Honeymoon-Destinations: Hyung Line Maknae Line 🌸 [♔- Reader]

[What cities/countries would they choose for their honeymoon-trip?] 

 ► When the boys have a crush on you!

     ▸  Their feelings for you! 🌸  

        ▪ here [♕- Reader]

     ▸  Their dirty thoughts about you! 💋😈 

        ▪ About him  [♚- Reader]

        ▪ About her   [♔- Reader]

► Easter Special 🌸💋😈

[You’re wearing a sexy bunny outfit for them on Easter Sunday!]

    ▪  Easter with her! [♔- Reader]

    ▪  Easter with him!  [♚- Reader]

» Series Key «

↬ Finished: 💯

↬ Ongoing: 💬

↬ Long Term Project: 📅

↬ Paused: ⁉️

↬ Uncompleted: 🗑

(the last one will hopefully never happen...)

 ▲ ▼ ▲▼▲

► Naughty Days ‘til Christmas 💋😈 [♔|♚|♕-Reader]

This is a spicy Advent Calendar for Christmas: The Boys bought an Erotic Advent-Calendar and every day they unpack another sexy Accessory with the Reader. Of course they try all the products! 💬

(24 Smut-Drabbles with female/male/gender neutral Readers) 

► BTS Dog Hybrid-Series   🌸🌧💋😈  mostly [♔-Reader] BUT [♚/♕-Reader] possible!

Seven different stories about the boys in a world where humans and hybrids exists, an unique ethnicity of humans they’re able to shift their shape into a dog.    ⁉️| 📅

► BTS “We’re all the same equal!”- Series 🌸💋🌧⚠️🚫 [♔|♚|♕-Reader]

 We all deserve the same love, no matter if we’re are chubby, thin, tall, short, have white or colored skin, are a female, male or an other gender. It simply doesn’t matter. And the boys would still love us. And they would teach us to love ourselves.  ⁉️| 📅

 ► Disobedience [Hoseok x Reader x Namjoon] 😈 [♔- Reader]

Summary: You are sexually frustrated, annoyed and bored, which is why you started to mastubate without the permission of you boyfriends, Namjoon and Hoseok. Even if they promised to take care of your needs tonight. But you don’t feel like waiting anymore. But you also didn’t expect that Hobi will catch you with your pastel blue dildo deep into your pussy...  

► l’innocence indécente [Jimin x Reader x Jungkook] 💋 [♔- Reader] 

Synopsis: Jungkook and Jimin want to try something new with you... and you have to admit that you like it. A lot... 

► Prey  [Jimin x Reader x Taehyung] 😈💋 [♔- Reader]

Synopsis:

► Birthday Princess [Yoongi x Reader x Taehyung feat. Jungkook] 😈 [♔- Reader] 

Synopsis: You have Birthday today and your two boyfriends make sure that you will be sexually pleased to the ultimate maximum...

► Birthday Gift [Seokjin x Reader x Jimin] 😈 [♔- Reader]

Synopsis: Your Boyfriend Jimin bought you something very specific as your birthday present. You should use it as a preparation tool before you’ll get the real birthday gift tonight... 

 ► Halloween Special 💋😈  [♔- Reader]

 ► Easter Special 🌸💋😈

     ▪  Easter with her!  [♔- Reader]

     ▪  Easter with him!  [♚- Reader]

► My Fake-Texts Masterlist  [Semi-active/inactive] [♔- Reader]

Note: At the beginning of my blog I was more focused on making fake texts (simply it was easier and more comfortable for me back then because I was a bit insecure about my language struggles) but now it’s not my main thing anymore. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to make fake texts in general anymore but right now I like the “real” writing much more! So I don’t know when I’ll make new fake texts. 

► Improvisation 🌸💋😈 [♚-Reader]

Summary: This wasn't planned. Well, the whole world didn't planned to deal with a damn pandemic in 2020! If everything would have gone "normally", you would be in Seoul with Jin right in this moment and just enjoy that you're finally able to be close to Jin again. But now you two are stucked at home, Jin in his dorm in Seoul and you in your apartement in your town, far away from him. So you have to improvise for now on, how you want to deal with longing emotions and urging sexual desires... 

► Strawberry Kiss  🌸💋 [♕-Reader]

Summary: It's Friday Afternoon and when Jin comes home from work, the freshly baked strawberry cake smells deliciously. But he decided that a taste of you is even sweeter, especially when you're not wearing any underwear underneath your thin summer dress...

► Birthday Gift [Seokjin x Reader x Jimin] 😈 [♔- Reader]

►  Home  🌸🌧  [♕-Reader]

Summary: You finally managed to spend your two semesters abroad studying in Korea! However, after some unfortunate circumstances, you want nothing more than finally be able to fly home again. But your Roommate Namjoon has some ideas to make your year abroad still wonderful...  

► Precious  🌸💋 [♔- Reader]

Summary: Today is your birthday and because your last few weeks have been terribly stressful, you want nothing more than to be able to sleep in in your day off. However, Namjoon has to go to practice all day long, that’s why he has found a very gentle method of waking you up to unpack your presents together...   

► Disobedience ft. Hoseok 😈 [♔- Reader]

► Business Trip 💋😈 [♔- Reader] 

Summary: It's a stressful life to be the CEO of a big and international known company. Always hopping onto the next flight to a new investor or business partner, all around the globus. But sometimes he can't fix his little problem alone, so you need to help him out with some naughty stuff through these rough times of his job~   ► Jar of Kinks 💋😈 [♔- Reader] 

This Two-Shot is based on my own Jars of Kinks. 

I identify myself as a Switch. That's the reason why I decided to write a Two-Shot to my "Jar of Kinks". So I'd be able to write both Dynamics, with Dom! Yoongi and Sub! Yoongi as well. In this Index you'll find the links to the Oneshots, combinded with their summary and their individual warnings. 

► Touched 💋😈 [♔- Reader]

Summary: This week was just so awful and shitty, every muscle in your body hurts and you're absolutely exhausted from this horror week. But Yoongi has an Idea to relax you and make you feel so loved in a way, that couldn't make thousands of compliments.

►  Netflix and Chill  🌸🌞 [♕-Reader]

Summary: Hoseok and you are best friends, especially because you two share an unique passion for which you get sometimes quizzycally looks from others. Like every friday night you meet up to watch some series on Netflix together and massage and fondle the hair of each other. All the same, all innocent as ever. Until it comes to an certain situation and you realize the true meaning behind “Netflix and Chill” faster than you expected.   

► Disobedience ft. Namjoon 😈 [♔- Reader]  

► Little Swan  😈 [♔- Reader]

Sneak Peak: Laying open, completely helpless and so vulnerable in front of him. Presented like a meal on a silver tablet. His meal, his prey. Your wolf is starving, licking his lips with an animalistic and devilish smile at the sight of your parted pussy lips. Revealing his most desired things, this swollen and sensitive clit and this pretty tiny pussyhole. Clenching around nothing, literally begging to get filled with his fat cock and stuffed up with his cum until it’s leaking out of his little sweet swan...

► Mustang v8 💋🌞 [♔- Reader]  

Summary:  You kinda have a thing for the sound of the engine of a Mustang. How bad that Hoseok’s new car is a Mustang and that your Boyfriend looks super hot while driving!

► Study Break  🌸💋 [♔- Reader]

Summary: College wants to kill you right now. Exam Phase and then you have to write a 20 page long scientific work! Jimin and you barely see each other, you gave yourself completely to your studies. Until some specific needs some attention again...   

 ► Poolside Kisses 🌸💋😈 [♔- Reader]

Summary: Jimin said, you should pack a swimsuit into your suitcase when you're going to visit him in Korea. You thought, you'll go bathing somewhere privately, maybe just with the boys or so... and not going to a pool party of one of Jimin's Idol friends where you'll not know anybody! Since then you hate yourself that you only brought your new bikini to Korea that reveals more of your bare skin that you're used to... 

► Mousse au Chocolat 💋 [♔- Reader]

Synopsis: You are Jimin’s favourite dessert...

► l’innocence indécente ft. Jungkook 💋 [♔- Reader]

► Birthday Gift [Seokjin x Reader x Jimin] 😈 [♔- Reader]

► Dirty little Secret  

Summary: Whenever you leave your apartement for work, you're carrying a dirty little secret to your workplace as well. To be more specific, you wear inconspicuous sex-toys underneath your business attire to keep your sex-craving libido under control. Nobody noticed something and everything went well... until now. Until your Boss and secret crush, Park Jimin, bursts into your office unannounced and hears something buzzing which definitely doesn't come from your phone. Even worse, he sees a certain remote-control laying on your desk that seems to be surprisingly familiar to him... 😈 [♔- Reader]

► The Definition of Art  🌸💋 [♚-Reader]

Summary: You’re under Taehyung’s total mercy. Tied up, bare and trembling you lay spread out in front of your boyfriend who loves to turn you into his personal piece of art... 

► Deflowered 🌸💋🌧  [♔-Reader]

Summary: You're getting married tomorrow and you want to say goodbye to your mare. There you met the stable boy Taehyung for the last time, who's your best friend and childhood crush at the same time. You will experience a stormy night full of love and passion and you'll give the biggest proof of love to him...

► The hands of a sinner 💋😈

(The Idea of this Fanfiction has two versions: for female and male readers!)

For her! [♔- Reader]

For him! [♚-Reader]

Summary: Since Jungkook got his hand tattoos, you’ve found out that they have a stronger effect on you than you would like it. You also have good reasons not to tell him that you are developing a kink for this tattoos. And these reasons getting confirmed... 

►  Goddess of the sun 💋 [♔- Reader]

Synopsis: Jungkook is the best servant for his Queen and Goddess 

► The walls 💋😈  [♔- Reader]

Synopsis: You don’t know why but today was the first Day you realized how buff and bulky Jungkook’s Biceps are. And the fact that they look delicious when they’re tensed up…

► l’innocence indécente ft. Jimin 💋 [♔- Reader]

► Der Geliebte  🌸 💋 [♔- Reader]

Summary: You and Jungkook met right at the first day you opened your own atelier in Seoul after you had to leave your old home behind you. You love paint canvas with landscape motives, other people just roll with their eyes when they hear that you choose such usual, almost boring things to paint. Not so Jungkook, he seems to be different than most of visitors. It’s almost like he can read your feelings through your paintings... 

 ► The laundry hamper  🌸 🌞 💋 😈 [♔- Reader] Summary: Jungkook has a crush on you since you moved together for college but the poor boy is way too shy to confess his feelings to you... rather he would search through your laundry hamper to get a shirt which smells after your very personal scent and tries to calm his racing heart... and other nerves. He didn’t thought to get catched by the person who already stole his whole heart in the most embarrassing situation...

This is probably the most important information on this blog 💌  

Don't be shy around me!  

You can feel absolutely free to talk to me, to stuff my inbox (even when you just want to ramble or to fangirl etc.) and my PMs are always open too! So don't hesitate to get in contact with me, you're not awkward or weird, okay?💕💕  

I'm pretty curious about you guys too and Im always up to become mutuals or even friends, okay? 🤗  

Love you, Tipsy 💜

 [Dates]

Published: 27th December 2019

Last Update: 10th August 2021

[bettsfic]

february pinned: the real & the ideal

in this month’s edition of my lowkey writing-related newsletter, in addition to my writing-related post roundup and consultation availability, i have short story recommendations for you and an essay on the nature of reality in fiction! 

if you want to receive my lowkey writing-related newsletter directly, you can subscribe here.

in other news, i finished two fics this month:

digging for orchids (hualian, 43k, explicit, fake marriage au)

let ruin end here (hualian, 8k, mature, neighbors au)

full newsletter below the cut, or you can read it here.

oof,

what a month. january is already a rough time. throwing in a pandemic, a coup, and an economic revolution spearheaded by reddit just seems unfair. as for me personally, the spring semester came at me fast and even though it’s only week 2, i am already buried in grading. which i realize is my fault, considering i’m the one who assigned homework.

so after hearing your feedback, i thought i’d make this newsletter even more writing-related by writing more about writing. this month i’ll start off by talking about the nature of reality in fiction in a segment i call “been thinkin a lot about.” more on that below.

new resource

i’ve compiled a folder of PDFs of the short stories i teach most often, which is to say, the stories i like enough to re-read every semester. most of them are literary fiction but a few veer into fantasy, sci fi, and horror.

i know before the MFA, i didn’t really know what a short story was. like i knew, abstractly, the concept of a short story (it is as it sounds), but i could only list a couple i’d ever read as an adult, and i hadn’t read anything that had been published in the last decade. i remember wondering why i was even being asked to care about short stories. who writes short stories? who reads them? apparently, a lot of people. short storyists are a lot like fanwriters in that they make no money and when you talk about your writing in public, people give you that “why would anyone waste their time with that?” look.

so here’s why i was asked to care about short stories: a good short story gives you the entirety of a world in a very condensed space. moreover, it can sometimes leave you as satisfied as a novel in a fraction of the reading time. all the stories i’ve compiled here are ones that stuck with me, that i find myself recommending over and over to writers who want a good example of developing character, or weird narration, or establishing stakes.

if you’re a writer considering publication or an MFA in creative writing, i highly recommend familiarizing yourself with short stories, if for no other reason than to get the feel for them so you can write some of your own. if you can get a few short story publications under your belt, it’ll be easier to open doors when you’re ready to query agents for a novel. also, short stories make a great writing sample for grad programs, workshops, fellowships, residencies, and grant funding.

if you want to check out more short stories but have no idea where to start, the 2020 best american short stories just dropped in november, or if you want a cheaper one, used copies of 2019 and earlier are available on thriftbooks. if you want an overview of the history of the (american) short story, there’s also the best american short stories of the century. fair warning, though, while it’s more diverse than expected, it’s still a bit heavy on dead-white-dude writing.

content warning: the stories in the above-linked folder may depict instances of sexual assault, suicide, and/or abuse. i have not labeled them individually with warnings but i hope to soon, as well as provide a catalog with summaries.

i’m also still working on my essay and novel recs. more to come on that hopefully next month.

writing-related posts

how i quit my banking job to do a creative writing MFA

how i learned to read faster/stop subvocalizing

how to write when you have no time or energy to write

my experience writing fic in small/dead fandoms (aka fics that will probably not get any traffic)

how to describe facial expressions

how to ask for help from your professors

how to navigate tenses during flashbacks

how to separate yourself from your work

how (and why you might want to) write a shitty first draft

why you should consider making the climax the inciting incident

for a complete list of my writing-related posts, check out this masterdoc (which i still need to update it with the past few months’ posts).

stuff i’m into rn

i’m about halfway through the rhetoric of fiction by wayne c. booth which has more or less become my narrative bible. it’s a little dated (1961) but it tackles banal writing adages that are somehow still believed, like “show don’t tell” and whatnot, and breaks them down with amazing insight, clarity, and research. it’s a bit of a dense text so i’m only reading a few pages a day, i think the first time i’ve ever let myself read something so intentionally slowly. now i’m kind of obsessed with doing things slowly. reading slowly, writing slowly, cooking slowly. i even drive slowly, because it’s so rare to go anywhere at all, and i want to enjoy it. also, it’s very snowy where i am. also also, the battery died in my car this month and i really have to make it a point to drive more often.

february availability

i have 2 openings for initial writing consultations in february! if you’re interested, please fill out this google form.

you can learn more about my services on my carrd.

been thinkin a lot about

compulsory reality in fiction. many of us have probably received feedback along the lines of, or thought to ourselves as we read, “that’s not realistic.” many of us believe, consciously or not, that fiction that is more “realistic” is inherently better than fiction that is less “realistic.” for some of us, real means a saturation of details, the clear depiction of the surfaces of things. reality is found in the rendering thereof; if you can “see” it, it’s real. for others of us, it might be the development of complex characters and their growth across a narrative. and for yet others, reality is subtlety, or misery, or the idea of “slice of life,” a term i don’t think means anything, because aren’t all stories a slice of a character’s life? what would a story that’s not a slice of life look like? you’d either have to take away the “slice” part and render a whole life, which is impossible, or you’d have to take away the “life” part and create a dead story, which may be possible, but why would you want to? even if you wrote a story about a rock, the rock would be brought to life by virtue of being written about.

anyway. i think the word “real” is a shitty word for the same reason “slice of life” is a shitty phrase: everything is real and therefore nothing cannot be real. slices of life are all we know because we are alive and cannot truly perceive not being alive; reality is also all we know, and any depictions beyond reality are thus made real because they have been depicted.

so the “goal” for fiction to be “realistic” seems to me to be a false one. all fiction is real because it exists and no fiction can be truly real because it’s only a facsimile of reality. not to get all “this is not a pipe” but writing is just making squiggles, and we as a community of English-knowers agree that certain squiggles correspond to certain sounds, and certain sounds together make words which conjure meanings. and words put together into sentences into paragraphs conjure even more complicated meanings. and when those paragraphs are woven into narrative we create yet more and more complicated meaning.

every time you write anything — a text message, an email, a tweet, a fanfic — you are taking the infinite abstraction of your own cognition, narrowing it into a single concept, and representing that concept with patterns in the form of sounds represented by letters and given meaning with words, so that the infinite abstraction of your own conscience can be fractionally witnessed by the infinite abstraction of someone else’s. and even though we can’t definitively prove for ourselves that any other thing possesses a consciousness, writing shows us the shape of someone else’s mind, and tells us we are not alone.

and yet we still expect writing to be “real.”

have you ever read a story where a character sneezed? like just, a description of a sneeze for the sake of it, with no purpose or function in the plot? if not, is it because our characters aren’t real enough to sneeze, or because the sneeze isn’t relevant to their plight? what would a written sneeze look like, and why would somebody want to write it? moreover, why would somebody want to read it? that leads me to wonder, do we depict reality in the service of narrative, or narrative in the service of reality? in other words, do we write to portray reality (sans sneezing), or do we depict reality to constrain our writing, the way one might request bumpers when bowling so as not to fall in the gutters?

i’ve never read an artful rendition of a character pissing or shitting, either, even when those things are related to a character’s plight and circumstance — stories involving long road trips, living in the woods, being kidnapped. the only exception i can think of is when those things are eroticized (we do not kinkshame here in this lkwrnl), the same way it’s rare to find detailed sex writing that isn��t for the purpose of reader arousal. are there just some things about the nature of being human that are too intimate, too complex, or too boring to write?

once i wrote a murder that takes place in a small fictional midwestern town in the 90s (for the ~aesthetic), and it went uninvestigated by said town’s police force. early readers repeatedly commented along the lines of, “that’s not realistic.” and i thought, no, if anything, the incompetence of police is too realistic for the heightened reality i’m trying to render. have you ever heard of a cop solving a murder that didn’t come with an obvious suspect or immediately found evidence? i haven’t. that doesn’t mean those cases don’t exist, but i definitely think they’re less likely than mass media has us believe, and the average small-town police force has far less motivation (and possibly training) to solve crimes than we think.

i started working on the above-mentioned novel in 2016, and my goal was to depict a reality that hovers above the surface of plausibility. in this novel, which is based on macbeth, a preteen girl, mercy, becomes jealous of the love her best friend elisa shows to her father. mercy decides to get her older and very unstable brother to kill him. naturally the deed goes awry, but it does occur, and the cleanup is far messier than anticipated.

is it plausible for a 12 year old girl to plot and execute the murder of her best friend’s father? no. is that what this book is about? yes. a book about a 12 year old girl who has a perfectly healthy relationship with her best friend and who has no feelings toward her bff’s father one way or another is probably far more “realistic,” but that’s not the book i’d want to read and certainly not the one i want to write. my goal of a heightened reality is what henry james calls the intensity of illusion, the thing that allows a reader, through the witness of one’s distilled cognition into language, to exit physical, knowable reality, and enter a new and unknown reality. and isn’t climbing to that higher place, that intensity of illusion, the purpose of fiction? if it’s not, what is?

the best feedback i got on the aforementioned murder scene was from one of my professors, who, of the perfect calm of all children involved, said, “they just shot a guy. at least one of them would be freaking out.”

he was totally right, but it opened up a lot of questions for me. by what standard did he reach that conclusion? was it something in the chapter itself, was it his personal understanding of the work of narrative, or was it the logical conclusion of the slim plausibility of the scenario? moreover, where did i come up with the idea that all of my preteen characters would commit a murder and proceed to be very chill about it? if an implausible scenario begs the expectation of emotional distress, would it be more compelling to buy into that expectation or deviate from it? is it even my obligation to be compelling when i can never have a cogent grasp of the personal tastes of my audience?

that brings me to what appears to be reality’s opposite: idealism, the state those of us who write fanfic are often trying to achieve. we’re working in an entire genre of ideals, of happily ever afters, of hurt that is always followed by comfort, of glossily rendered sex during which everyone orgasms and no one has to pee afterward. we fix broken texts and continue incomplete ones. sometimes, we want to make existing things better, deeper, more complicated. but all the time, we want to make a text more than what it is.

some see this process, this drive for the ideal, as antithetical to realism, and i think that’s part of the reason fanfiction and other idealistic genres (romance, etc.) get a bad name — the assumption that more real (which for some means more miserable) is better, and therefore its opposite, the ideal, is worse. for them, i have this quote from vladimir nabokov:

For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm.

the ideal, aesthetic bliss, the intensity of illusion. these are all phrases that boil down to the same thing: you the writer get to define the constraints of your own reality. you get to choose if your world even complies with the known laws of physics. and if it doesn’t, you get to choose which ones to break, and why to break them. you get to choose if your stories take place in a real house in a real town on a real day. if you wrote a story that takes place on september 11, 2001, would the events of that story be shaped by the events of that actual day, or are you writing a better world where 9/11 doesn’t happen? consider the consequences of both: why might you want to write reality? why might you want to write ideality? how do these things shape your identity and goals as a writer?

no matter where a work falls on the real-ideal spectrum, you have to accept that prose itself will only ever be a verisimilitude of reality and therefore an interpretation of it, one that might be interpreted differently by a reader. in writing and everything else, you can never have complete control over what others perceive. it’s like giving someone cash as a gift. they might buy themselves something nice with it, or they might spend it on groceries. the point is, eventually we all have to let go of our realities.

[ramblinganthropologist]

MER Week 7 - Christmas.

It Chrismas. Merr Chrismas.

Only, it’s not so merry for Bo and Alistair. They’re stuck on guard duty at the tail end of a shitty year. At least they have each other and ancient memes to keep each other company as they say goodbye to 2182 and hope that 2183 will be better.

---

Fuck, it was cold out.

“I hate this.”

“We both hate this.”

At least Bo and Alistair were on the same page on something as they stared out at the horizon. Both of their guns were low on ammo, the landscape was bleak, and the sky looked like it was about to open up with snow. Talk about less-than-ideal situations as they sat there on what had once been a wall, waiting for the chance to change guard and go inside.

It was a simple enough mission, but guard duty was the worst of it. Alistair wasn’t even sure why he was asked for it – he had zero depth perception. Whatever, he had drawn the short straw, so there he was waiting for his shift to be over.

Next to him, Bo scowled as she checked the settings on her suit, probably hoping things could get a little warmer. The wind certainly wasn’t helping, and if snow was coming it was only going to get worse. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure it was as high as it could go.

“Any chance you could hack this?”

She held out her wrist to him, nearly hitting him in the side of the head. Luckily, he managed to dodge at the last moment, ducking down into the old snow that was starting to get grey and icy. Immediately, he regretted it as he shivered and shot back up.

“I already tried, you’d have to take it off first and that’s not exactly ideal right now.” He wiped snow from his helmet visor, hoping it wouldn’t freeze over. “We’ve only got two more hours until we can go in, just grin and bear it.”

Honestly, Bo didn’t grin – she was more of the smirk and punch you in the face type. So maybe he didn’t exactly have the best advice then.

Next to him, she scowled and kicked some of the grey snow with her boot. It hit him in the leg armor, but at least there were no rocks in there to make it worse. Still, it made him shiver a little as he shook it off.

“I fucking hate this. Next time, I’m the one making up the straws, I think O’Henry rigged it.” She settled back in, hand near her rifle. “What time is it anyway? Feels like we’ve been out here forever.”

Alistair shrugged his shoulders as he flipped his wrist to check his omni-tool. The glowing numbers told him it was just after midnight, and by earth time it was now December 25th. Something about that made him chuckle, even as he shivered.

“It Chrismas. Merr Chrismas.”

Naturally, his sister groaned. “Not that fucking meme, you do that every year.”

“Just be glad I didn’t send the dinosaur this year.” Alistair beamed at her from his frozen guard spot. “It’s my present to you this year.”

His return present was a hard shove to the side that launched him a few feet sidewise. How thoughtful of her.

“Dork.” Bo rolled her eyes as she watched him climb out of the snowbank he had landed in. “Whatever, that just means that New Years is coming. I’d say raise your hand if you’re glad 2182 is almost over, but I don’t want to get it shot off.”

Alistair felt that heartily as he brushed the snow from his armor and got back into position. All things considered, 2182 had been an especially shitty year. It wasn’t his worst, but it definitely wasn’t one of his better ones. The sooner it was over, the better.

“Well, we put in papers to transfer to a different ship, so maybe we’ll get lucky.” He shrugged. “That Anderson guy that emailed me seemed alright. I got a good vibe from him.”

His remark got him a shrug from his sister. “I’ll trust you on that, not like I have any better ideas. Anything’s better than this.”

That he could heartily agree with.

After that, they lapsed into silence. After all, they had a job to do. At least it was quiet, though those clouds weren’t looking good to Alistair as he checked the aiming mechanism on his rifle. No doubt they were in for a heavy storm – hopefully that wouldn’t impede takeoff.

Naturally, as soon as he thought that the first few snowflakes began to flutter down.

“Fuck, really?” Bo scowled as a few landed on her. “Al, get on a rock or something. I don’t want to lose you in the snow.”

That earned her an eye roll as Alistair finished checking the gears. “Last I checked, I’m wearing black armor.”

“That won’t matter if you’re under the snow.” She was snickering now – asshole.

Oh well. There was no changing her terrible personality. Instead, he focused on keeping an eye on the horizon. Time was still slowly ticking down on their shift. He could already feel the relief of getting to go to bed, but there was still plenty of watch left. Best he could do was try not to freeze in place.

That was proving difficult, mind you. The snow was starting to pick up. It wasn’t white out conditions yet, but it wasn’t pleasant.

“I swear, if you were dreaming of a white Christmas, I’m going to turn you into Frosty.”

Alistair snorted as he flexed his cold toes inside his boots. “Bo, we’re both from Mindoir. Why the fuck would I ask for snow after living there?”

“Brain damage from the implant surgery?”

No, that only affected his fashion sense. Damn, and she was his sister? She should have known better by now.

“No, I’m good.” He shook his head. “But seriously, do you want anything this year? And don’t say to get off shift early, I can’t do anything about that.”

No doubt if he had been able to see her face, she would have been pretending to pout. He could feel it from her very presence. Instead, she just shifted from foot to foot, probably to keep her feet from freezing in the snow. Sensible.

“Damn. You’re a real Scrooge, Al.” She paused, checking the horizon. “I don’t know… I just want something other than this. Doubt you can do anything about that either.”

No, but he wished he could have.

“I’ll send up a wish on the next shooting star for you.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Maybe if we both wish really hard, 2183 will be better.”

Honestly, how much worse could it get than this? He’d take anything else.

“For once, I’ll allow your positive thinking to infect me.” Another pause. “And… Merr Crismas, I guess.”

“Merr Chrismas, Bo.”

After that, there was just more silence, punctuated by the soft sound of falling snow on the landscape. In time, they would be relieved. Until then, Bo and Alistair stood there and watched the snow blanket everything in white. In a weird way, it was strangely beautiful as it sparkled in the overhead lights.

It was also fucking cold, but he was trying to look on the bright side. It made time go by faster.

Still, as Alistair stood there, he sent up the quiet hope to the universe that 2183 was going to be a better year. Maybe they could find a different assignment, with a different CO. Maybe they could go under that Anderson guy. He’d only heard good things about the man, though he hadn’t exactly looked hard.

So, quietly he sent that energy to the universe. He doubted anyone heard, but it was nice to think of as he stood there, killing time and wishing more than anything that he could just go to bed where it wasn’t absolutely freezing. It was a simple wish, but it was one he believed in whole heartedly.

If the Universe wanted, it could use it as a Christmas present. After all, it had stiffed him for quite a few years…

[some-dr-writings]

Teruteru x M!Reader One-shot: Please Understand My Feelings!

Teruteru was so absolutely excited today! It was his birthday and there was only one thing he wanted. He wanted you! Well, that could be rephrased. To tell you he loved you! And he also wanted you. The two of you were instantly best friends the moment you met! You were hot, loved his cooking, and were overall an awesome and fun person to be with. Teruteru had tried confessing before but he always chickened out or turned it into another one of his innuendo laden remarks even when he was trying not to do that. But not today! He was going to confess to you no matter what it took! Even if it meant making the event into an extravagant show!... E-even if he had to outright just say it plainly. He’d rather just cook you something with “I love you” on the top. He wasn’t sure his heart could take saying it out loud. Even thinking about it sent his poor little heart a flutter beating faster and faster till Teru passed out. But hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. Maybe. Please.

Taking a deep breath, he pressed send on the text asking you to meet him in his lab for breakfast… At three in the morning. He needed time to cook and prepare. And he also couldn’t sleep a wink. He prepared an entire feast. He poured his soul into his dishes, needing everything to be absolutely perfect!

“Hanamura?” “Ah, Y/N. Perfect timing! Just take a seat and I’ll be out in a moment!” This was it; THIS WAS IT! He was finally going to confess to you and through his greatest passion no less! This was going to be the best confession! He had to take several trips in order to get all the dishes out to you. “What’s with the domes over everything?” You lightly scratched you head in confusion seeing most everything had a dome covering it. Teru normally only used those things when the food needed to be kept hot or needed moisture. In fact, because of the moisture Teru avoided the things since it could so easily ruin the food. “Should I remove them before the food get’s spoiled?” “No, no, no. The food’s fine. But if you simply can’t resist you can take a peek.” Though he said that, he wanted to see your reaction, but who was he to deny you satisfying your curiosity. Much to his delight you did in fact wait for him, tenderly smiling and giving him a small wave in greeting.

With flourish Teru removed the domes from each of the dishes revealing what was inside. Steamed rice in a heart shaped bowl with Natto in a heart shape on top, Miso soup with heart shaped tofu, eggs and bacon systematically placed to make a heart shape as well as the aebleskivers too, a German pancake drizzled in lemon, berries placed atop it spelling “I love you”, more berries spelling out his feelings atop French toast and pancakes and crapes and other such items. You gasped at the sight of it all. Everything glistened in a beautiful sheen, all the baked items were that perfect, crisp, golden-brown color. All the delectable smells melded together yet were still distinct making your mouth water from it all. Cutting a piece from the German pancake and French toast your ears tingled hearing that light crunch. You sighed and awed as the delectable tastes simply melted in your mouth and on your tongue. “This is amazing!” Your cheeks were sore from how much you were smiling.

Meanwhile Teru stared at you absolutely baffled. Did… did you not notice? But HOW!? “Uh, but don’t you notice anything about your breakfast today?” “Hmm? Well… I notice there’s a lot more than usual, and there’s lots of hearts and you wrote ‘I love you’ a few times, but… Ah, I guess I didn’t really notice since I was expecting it!” … WHAT!? D-did you know already he liked you!? For how long!? “Today’s your birthday! It’s important to tell yourself you love yourself today! And I can taste it as well! I’m glad you have so much passion for your wellbeing!”

In that moment Teru began to question his life choices and how those lead him to falling so hard for such a sweet and kind dolt to the point of finding this alarming yet endearing at the same time. All he could bring himself to do was gently pat you on the head as you eagerly enjoyed your meal.

Alright, so breakfast was a bust, but Teru had other ideas for how to confess to you! “Ah! Class is starting soon! We should get going. I’ll come back at break to clean up, alright? I can at least do that so you can just enjoy today and relax!” You quickly got up from your seat and made your way for the door. “Now, hold on. I don’t want you slaving away cleaning dishes on my birthday.” He pinned you to the wall or tried to. He just slapped his hands against the wall blocking your way. “Kabedon?... Hanamura I think you’re a little short for this.” “I-what? NO! Listen to me! I much rather have you all to myself today.” “… OH! Yeah, I’m cool with hanging out! But… I do have a birthday surprise I’m still preparing so I can’t be with you all day, but when I have free time, I’ll come find you! Now let’s get to class before we’re late.” … Perhaps Teru should have been a bit more specific in his wording. Oh well. If you were going to be spending most of the day with him, at least that gave him more opportunities to confess. Or at this rate just keep trying too.

In class Teru wrote ‘I love you, Y/n. Yours truly Teruteru Hanamura’ on a piece of paper and folded it into a paper plane. Then ever so carefully, he tossed it to you. “Hmm?” You examined the paper for a moment before noticing Teru was waving at you. You waved back before your attention was drawn back to the plane. Teru intently watched as you began writing on the page! Oh no. What were you going to say? Did you like him back, did you not? What were you going to say!? Then you tossed it back! Unfolding the page Teru realized you just filled out the math sheet and never looked at the back where his message was. He was going to attempt this again this time with a complexly blank page but Miss Yukizome noticed and put a stop to it.

Okay, something else! Instead Teru wrote you a letter pouring all his feeling onto the page! THIS had to work! “Y/N! I need you to read this right now!” “Huh? Okay!” Teru fidgeted as you took what felt to be forever and a day reading that letter. “You used the wrong ‘your’ and ‘you’re’ through the whole thing. You are missing a few commas on the fifth, sixth, twelfth, and eighteenth lines. And… the line where you call me a hot stallion, I think you mean to compare me to a hot stallion. Now if you excuse me, I have a phone call to make!” Before leaving you passed him the letter back.

… Maybe writing his feelings out was the problem! “Mioda! I need your help!”

Finding it difficult to hear her on the other line you put in ear buds and turned your volume up hoping that would help. Unfortunately, she was also in a crowd, so it only helped so much. As you exited the building you found a stage had been set up. Not even a moment later you got a text from Chiaki asking you to come to said stage. And so, you did. Still trying to make the call work.

You were incredibly confused seeing Ibuki, Chiaki, Nagito, Kazuichi and Teruteru on stage, everyone with an instrument of some sort except for Teru who stood before a microphone. They began to play something, but of course in that moment your special guest was at a crucial juncture and you had to help her with directions and finding landmarks. You texted Chiaki an apology saying you had to go and would likely be busy for a while.

Of course as you were walking away was when the heart shaped fireworks went off and Teru belted out his feelings in an impromptu speech.

Teru sighed in defeat, falling to his knees seeing you dash away. “Y/n, darlin’ why must you be so elusive, like making the perfect mix of spices for Mama’s sweet and spicy chicken skewers.” Kazuichi kneeled down beside Teru, lightly patting his back. “Sorry man. Maybe next time.” Chiaki placed down the bass guitar she held and took out her Gameboy. “Yeah. You haven’t lost any lives yet. Keep trying and you’ll get him to notice… eventually.” Kazuichi nervously scratched his cheek as he stood up. “Yeah, that guy’s always been oblivious. Even from the start.” “Yes, I knew that when I fell for him.” Teru took out his phone, looking though the notes for ideas he came up for confessing to you. “Thank you for trying to help me.” Seeing what the next plan was, he got to his feet reinvigorated. “Alright! There’s only so many hours left in the day; I better get started on my next plan!” “Wonderful!” Of course, Nagito had to speak. “Go Hanamura! With that blooming hope in your heart go after Y/N!” Before Nagito could go on another of his hope rants, Teruteru ran away.

As you were rounding the corner to your dorms Teru jumped out dressed in a white suit with a bouquet in hand. “Y/N, watch this video!” “H-huh? Uh, sure?” The video was about the language of flowers and their meanings. When the video was finished you found Teru kneeling on one knee. “Cool. Though I’m not sure you have to get a bouquet of flowers meaning ‘I love you’ to show me the video. And I think kneeling like that is bad for people’s posture. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get to my dorm to check my reservation.” All Teru could do was just stand there dumbfounded. “… HOW!?”

You hurriedly placed on your windbreaker as you slammed the door open. “Hanamura? What are you doing here? And with an umbrella?” “Y/N, it’s raining! Share this umbrella with me!” “What? But there’s not a cloud in the sky. Wait, then why is there rain?” “Just… if you’d like please share this umbrella with me.” “Uh…” You walked out into the precipitation and looked up. “Oh. Hanamura, it’s fine.” You then waved up at the dorm ceiling. “Hey! Souda! Could you turn off the water hose and stop pointing it over Hanamura? He thinks it’s raining!” After a moment Kazuichi face-palmed and dropped the hose. “Hanamura, I think this is a lost cause.” Then Nagito popped out of the window to his dorm room. “Just hold on to that beautiful hope inside you! I believe in you Hanamura!” “Uhh, anyway! Hanamura! Your birthday surprise is ready! Well more like on it’s way. But! Please, please, please, come with me! I promise you won’t regret it!” “… Sure. I’ll come with you.” “Heck yeah! C’mon! We’ve waisted enough time already, I’m already a little late!”

“Hurry, Hanamura! We’ll be late!” “I-I’m hurrying as fast as I can!” You took Teru’s hand and dragged him along at your breakneck speed. “We can’t miss the train! Hurry up!” “Train?”

“T-thank goodness. We got here in time.” You both collapsed onto the train seats, completely winded, desperately catching your breath. “Yay. We made it before rush hour.” You slumped in your seat, looking out the window at that gorgeous sunset. You so goofily smiled to yourself imagining Teru’s reaction to your gift. You just couldn’t wait. “Hey, Hanamura. You just as excited as I am? … Hmm?” You got no response. “Hanamura? HANAMURA!”

…

You sighed in relieved seeing him waking up. “Just in time, we’re almost at our stop!” “Huh? Wa-? What happened?” “Uh, once we were on the train you keeled over and started foaming at the mouth. But you seem okay now! I think. How are you feeling? Please be okay.” “Oh, no, no, darlin’ I’m fine.” He was snapped out of that haze realizing he accidently let his accent slip out! Hopefully you didn’t notice. “Ah, your accent!” Of course you notice that! OF COURSE!... At least you seemed happy to hear it.

Once you got off at your train platform you swiftly lead Teru to a car lot. “You rented a car?” “Yeah! I’ve been saving for months for this and other things, and even took driving lessons for this, but it’s worth it! C’mon! Get in! We can’t be late!” You dragged him in by the collar of his shirt, too excited to wait for him.

“This shouldn’t be a long trip, but if you want, you could turn on the radio.” Taking you up on your offer he flipped it on, hoping it could distract him from wondering where you were taking him. A farm for fresh ingredients? But you said it wasn’t far and you were still in the city. A love hotel perhaps! That’d be a dream come true! Before his mind could start to run wild, he noticed the song that was playing. Yuki no Hana, Snow Flower. A classic. Odd it was playing though since it wasn’t winter yet. The song was literally about watching the snowfall with a lover. “… Y/N.” “Yeah.” “This song reminds me of you.” “… I remind you of winter?” “No, the other part.” “… Uh… The coming of winter?” “No, not winter.” “OH! About helping one another through hard times! Always being together!” Teru was silent for a moment, just taking in that moment. “Yeah. That part.” You weren’t wrong… It was close enough. “I’d like to stay by your side too! You’re my best friend.”

…

Maybe the only way to get it though your thick skull was to just out right, out loud, say it. But the question was… could he bring himself to tell you so directly without chickening out like he had done in the past.

“An airport?” You giddily chuckled seeing Hanamura trying to puzzle out why the two of you were here of all places. Once you finally found a parking space, you immediately stepped out to make a call. You then lead Teru into the airport. You looked around, trying to figure out if you had missed her already. “Did we pass by already?” “Mama!? Is that you!?” Teru raced to the woman, giving her the tightest hug he could. “Teru, my baby!” “Mama! How are you here! What about the diner!?” She simply pointed to you, who was mumbling to yourself about how she said she’d be by the shops which was where you were. “Y/N.” “The little sweetie. He’s been planning this for months now. Saving up money for plane tickets, my hotel, and covering the payment I would have gotten from working. The dear even tried tracking down your brother and sister but there just wasn’t enough time before your birthday.” The woman gently pat your arm, finally getting your attention. “Huh-Oh! There you are ma’am! I thought we missed you. Ah, let me take your luggage! I’ll take it all to the car while you and your son catch up!” “… Y/N.” “Yeah, Hanamura? OH! I forgot! Happy birthday! That’s what you were expecting, right? Sorry? I got caught up in th-” “I love you so much.” You simply stared at Teru as a bright red dusted your cheeks. “You… you love me? Wait…” One could see the cogs turning in your head as your blush darkened and spread to the tips of your ears. “I’M SO SORRY! I DIDN’T REALIZE SOONER!” “Sweetie-” He held one of your hands in both of his. “YOU WERE TRYING TO TELL ME ALL DAY!” “Darlin’-” “YOU LITERALLY WROTE ‘I LOVE YOU’ IN BERRIES!” “Y/N-” I’M SO SORRY I DIDN’T NOTICE! HOW COULD I BE SO DUMB!? I’VE HAD A CRUSH ON YOU SINCE WE MET! I LOVE YOU AND I DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE YOU-… you love… me too…” You buried your ever-reddening face in your hands realizing what you just said. “… So Mama, this is my boyfriend, Y/N.” “H-hi, Ma’am.” Teruteru’s mother simply looked at you two happily yet with confusion evident in her eyes. “I thought you two were already boyfriends since you write so much about Y/N in your letters and how Y/N went to all the effort to get me here.” “M-Mama! I-I don’t write about him that much in my letters!” “Oh, my mistake, there’s some other sweetest, kindest, most selfless dope in the world you’ve been trying to confess to for the past few months?” “YOU’VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL ME FOR MONTHS!?”

This… was certainly not how Teru imagined getting together with you but thinking about it on the ride to the hotel you got for his mother. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 7 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter seven 

~|Emily Fox|~

“Hey, you want to hang out after school today?” Madison asks me on Monday at lunch. “Oh, I—” I think of the most plausible lie, “I promised Ash I would close up again tonight. She’s got this thing with her girlfriend. I don’t know what, but she said it was important.” It’s not even that big of a lie. Ash has asked me that many a times before for the exact same reason. Only this time, she didn’t ask me to close the store. I want to go and tell Ash I will close it, for free, just so I – hopefully – bump into Charlie again tonight. I want to tell him I nearly finished the song and ask him if he has any clue what’s missing. “What about tomorrow?” I take a bite of my sandwich and chew ferociously, guarding my mouth with my hand to show her I can’t talk yet. “Got a shift from four until closing.” That’s not a lie. Tuesdays are mostly shift days anyway. “Wednesday?” I realize I can’t come up with another lie that I have to work. And besides, I think I could hang out with Madi until just before closing time and head down to the Music Store after. “Sure, yeah, Wednesday could work.” The brightest smile appears on her face at the answer. “It’s a date!” she pats my hand twice excitedly. “You know, we’ve been spending a lot less time together since you started working at the Music Store. I feel like I don’t even know what’s going on in that mind of yours.” I widen my eyes at that. If only she’d know. “Seen Cute Douchebag again?” “Uhm, no, I think he’s given up,” I lie. I can’t get into Charlie right now. She’ll know by the first word I’m crushing on him. Like really crushing on him. And she’ll say something crazy that I’m in love with him and it’ll get me to start thinking about that and I can’t have that right now. “Oh, sad. I really think you and him would make a cute couple.” The words nearly make me choke on my sandwich. “And he could help you write songs and get you into that fancy school of yours…” she trails off at the end, and I know exactly what’s coming next. “Or help you become famous.” I mouth the words along, earning a glare from my best friend. “I’m serious, Emmy.” A shiver runs down my spine at the nickname. “Don’t call me that,” I warn her. It’s what Uncle Robert always used to call me and Madi knows. “You know that name is reserved for someone else.” Madison holds up her hands in defense and quickly changes the subject. “You know Brianna’s doing her annual party next week right?” I nod my head. “Are you going?” “I’d rather die than go to a Brianna Holly party,” I snort, trying not to imagine me at that party. “Besides, you do know witches lure their pray into their house to eat them.” “I’m pretty sure that’s just from Hocus Pocus and it was mostly kids,” Madi corrects me. “Seventeen-year-olds are still kids,” I argue. “You’re seventeen years old, Ems,” she points out. I open my mouth to reply something to that, but then close it, not sure what to say. “Besides, she’s no witch. That there,” she points to the other side of the cafeteria, to the “popular table” where Brianna and Jake are seated. “Is a demon.” I watch Brianna as she cackles her witchy-demon laugh and can’t disagree. “You’re right.” Madi and I both pack our lunches back up and grab our stuff. “When am I not?” she wiggles her eyebrows, the way only Madi could. The two of us giggle our way out the cafeteria and to our lockers, getting ready for the other half of the day.

The day went by really slow. School normally has a bit of a slower pace, but I think turtles might go faster than this day went by. And it’s especially agonizing when you look forward to something that’s happening after school. “Ugh, finally!” I groan once Madi and I exit the school. “This day went agonizingly slow today.” “Eh, it was fine,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “Yeah, because you don’t have a cute boy waiting for you,” I mumble under my breath, hoping she didn’t hear. When I subtly turn my head to watch her reaction, I find her distracted by some other cute boys. The lacrosse boys. Of course. For once I thank heaven for high school jocks. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mads,” I say before leaving, but I doubt she heard it, so I shoot her a text instead. “You seemed a bit distracted by the Lacrosse boys. Had to go. See u tomorrow xx”

I don’t think I ever managed to walk from school to the Music Store this quickly. I arrive in under five minutes, when it usually takes fifteen, twenty when Madi walks along. “Emily, hey?” Ash greets, a little confused by my presence. “Hey, you mind if I close the store today? I want to work on my songs and don’t want to disturb Uncle Mitch tonight.” Ash gapes at me with big eyes and an open mouth. “I’ll do it for free.” She closes her mouth at this and narrows her eyes instead. “I know what this is about,” she says as the bell over the door rings. “That’s what this is about.” She nods her head towards the door. I turn around to indeed find what this is about entering the store. I quickly turn back to Ash before making eye contact with Charlie and offer her a sheepish grin. “Please?” I almost beg, hoping I don’t sound too desperate, but also thinking I might already be past desperate. “I swear, you don’t have to pay me for this.” Ash shakes her head at me. “You’re so desperately in love with him, sweetie. I hope you realize that.” I furrow my eyebrows at this, now it’s me shaking my head. “No, he’s just –” Ash finishes my sentence for me, “Incredibly attractive? Yeah – I noticed. I’m still bisexual, sweetie.” She winks at me before hopping over the counter and passing Charlie in the store. “My colleague will tend to all of your needs tonight,” she tells him loud enough, so I hear it to. She even turns her head to look at me, just to make sure I heard her. “See you tomorrow, Ems!” she raises a hand as a goodbye before exiting the store. “Tend to all of my needs, huh?” Charlie asks with eyebrows raised. This time, however, it doesn’t sound as fuckboy-y as it did the first night. It has a nervous quality to it due to him not daring to look at me. “Actually,” I say as I reach into my backpack to grab my notebook with all of my songs inside. Most of them written on loose papers, just stuck between pages of the book. “I need you to tend to some of my needs.” He snaps his head up at this, raising his eyebrows at me suggestively. “Not like that,” I scold and make my way to the piano. “I nearly finished the song, but I’m missing something, and I was wondering if you could help me out.” He leans over the paper to take a better look at the paper. Our shoulders touch, and I nearly feel my head explode at the simple touch. “Huh, you did use my bridge,” he says, pointing to the scratched out first version of the bridge and his bridge written very tiny next to it. “That’s not the point,” I say quickly, then point to the part I do want to talk about, “I don’t want to use the exact same chorus twice. I think it might sound better with something like…” I trail off and play a few notes on the piano. “You set me free You and me together is more than chemistry Love me as I am I'll hold your music here inside my hands We say we're friends, we play pretend…” I look up at him for him to add something to it, which only takes him a few seconds. “You’re more to me, we’re everything” I smile at him. I knew he’d be able to fix my problem. “When are you going to show it to me entirely?” he asks after a few seconds. “I am, aren’t I?” “No, I mean, when are you going to sing this with me?” I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I can’t do this yet. The song isn’t tweaked to perfection yet. I need a few more days before I can really show it to anyone. “Not yet, I want to get it perfect before I can show it to anyone.” I put the loose papers back into my notebook after having scribbled down the addition. “It just needs some tweaks.” I repeat, then look up at Charlie to find him already looking at me with that loose smile on his face and his eyes golden. “So…” he then changes the subject after a few seconds of complete silence that feels like a soft blanket, “We practically wrote a song together… I thought you said you wrote alone?” My heart stops beating for a moment as I think about the real reason why I don’t write with anyone else. Uncle Mitch told me to be honest. So, I probably should. Unless I want him to leave me alone for the rest of my life. Which I don’t. I want to see him every day and spend each possible moment with him. “I—” I take a deep breath, “It’s stupid. It’s a lame excuse, never mind.” I want to turn and walk away from him to properly start closing up the store, but Charlie grabs my hand and keeps me from walking away. My eyes glide from his hand holding mine to the arm connected to it and to the face that I’ve come to enjoy looking at. “You can tell me, Ems. Whatever it is. However stupid. I want to know why. I want to know why you won’t write with me. We’d be amazing together. Look at that song we wrote together without even realizing. From what I can see on paper, it sounds amazing. You’re really talented and I think we could make real magic together.” I draw in a deep breath, my hand shaking a little in his. I wonder if he feels how nervous I am. “Okay… It’s, uhm…” He stares at me with tentative eyes, urging me to continue, telling me to trust him. “I used to write songs with my Uncle Robert. He’s the one that taught me everything. He taught me how to read music, how to play piano and guitar, we used to sing together every day from morning until evening. When I got old enough, around twelve years old, we wrote our first song together. Albeit, it was about my bunny that died, but still, it kind of rocked.” The sniffle that comes after the chuckle makes me realize I’ve started crying. Charlie’s chuckle reaches my ears and encourages me to continue telling him. “Uncle Robert died a year ago. So, I haven’t really written with anyone else because it feels like betraying him. It was our thing, you know? I just… it doesn’t feel right.” Charlie reaches up with the hand that’s not holding mine and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The simplest touch sends shivers down my spine and butterflies into my stomach. “That’s not a lame excuse, Ems. I get it,” he reassures me with a small smile, “I just think that if you ever feel like you could start writing songs with me, we’d be able to create the most beautiful masterpieces, just like the song we wrote together now. Times ten,” I chuckle at that, “In perfect harmony.” My eyes widen at that as an idea pops into my head. I tug my hand out of his in a rush and grab the piece of paper with our song on, just to write “PERFECT HARMONY” at the top. I turn my face to look at Charlie with the beautiful smile on his face again that makes me feel all warm inside. “That’s perfect,” he tells me, “Can you sing it now?” I raise my eyebrows at him, as if saying “Really, bro?” and he raises his hands in defense, knowing exactly what the simple non-verbal communication means. “Now sit down and play some guitar so I can clean up in here.” He salutes me and goes to grab the guitar he always uses when he’s here. He sits down and strums the guitar. “This is tuned different from the last time I was here,” he notices. “Other people use those instruments, Charles,” I tell him, knowing all-too-well it was me who tuned it differently. On Thursday to be exact. I was missing him and decided to play some guitar myself. The exact moment Owen came in and asked me about the Open Mic Night. “You did that, didn’t you?” he raises his eyebrow. I feel my cheeks heating up but turn quickly so he doesn’t see. “Don’t be silly, Charles. Why would I use your guitar when I’m working?” I question whilst keeping myself preoccupied by sorting some papers, mainly to calm my heart down a little. “My guitar?” he emphasizes the ‘my’. “I mean, that guitar.” He stares at me for a moment, and I hear Madi in my mind going “Mmh-mmh…” “Just play your instrument, dumbass.” I return to my job whilst Charlie plays his guitar for a while. Once I’m done and I can lock up, Charlie places his guitar back in its place and joins me at the door. “Hey,” he says, once outside. I turn to face him after turning the key. “Thanks for letting me play in there. It’s nice not having parents yelling at you for not making so much noise.” I offer him a smile, and hope it says enough about how similar my parents are. “No problem, Charlie,” he startles at the lack of full name-usage, “See you tomorrow?” “Yes, definitely. See you tomorrow,” he gives me a wave and the two of us split ways. Ash is right. I am desperately in love with him. I don’t know what it is. Sure, he’s attractive, but I would be repulsed by boys that approach girls like he did that first day. Overly confident, thinking they own the place. Jake’s like that and I learned from my mistakes. But Charlie is just… different. There’s a warm, golden heart underneath all that confidence. Plus, ever since I rejected him that first day, he’s been really tentative and kind of nervous every time he’s around me. Which must mean he���s not the Douchebag he seemed to be. Charlie is… Charlie. And I am absolutely, totally smitten.

Taglist: @parkeret​ @lukeys-giggle​ @hannahhistorian92​ 

Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Trials and Tributes (3/5)

Summary:  

“There were witches who lived among them. Or so that’s what Levi was told. He just could not believe for the life of him that she’d be one of them.”

Levi is a soldier who interrogates witches before they are put on trial and Hange might just be a witch.

Levihan Secret Santa Gift for @cleacourgette

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Link to other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

They were working late that night. So unusually late that at first, Levi had taken Erwin’s closing the windows as a sign that they should finish for the night. He had started to empty his own desk of paperwork when Erwin spoke up.

“How were the trials?”

“Routine.”

Erwin raised one eyebrow. “The trials for someone so important to you volunteered to facilitate it?”

“Yes, they concluded she was a witch and we’re moving on to the swimming test. It’s in two days.” Levi said as mechanically as possible, not wanting his true emotions to leak out.

“Do you really believe she was the one responsible for the plague in your village? The plague which took your mother I mean?” Erwin did not need to clarify it. Yet, he did and that clarification only made Levi's chest tighten.

“Who else? She murdered a child then she disappeared.”

“I visited Hange after her last trial, had a small chat with her.”

“Of course she wouldn’t admit it.”

“That wasn’t what I asked about. I wanted to understand for myself what happened with that incident back she was a child, when she was accused of murder.”

“She said herself, she didn’t know what happened to him.”

Erwin shook his head. “She didn’t know. But the other people from the town did.”

Levi’s eyes widened in surprise. Suddenly he was self conscious of his disconnect from the happenings of the town as a child. Although he was considered one of the townspeople then. Having had to take care of his sick mother, he never had the chance to go out and meet many people nor discuss what had been happening around the town.

“I checked the reports in the capital library. Tobias’ mother reported that she had found red welts on her son’s back when he got home from playing with the kids then his body started to swell. Within an hour, he started to have a hard time breathing. His throat closed and with no means of breathing, he passed away quickly.”

The circumstances of his death were strange. Strange enough that the townspeople had come together to organize a witch hunt.

“They also recorded the accounts of the witnesses who were playing with Hange and Tobias that day. And when I checked them, they aligned well with the story Hange had given me. She pushed Tobias into a grassy patch. One of the boys who had been left there when Tobi and Hange both went home mentioned that they might have landed on a fire ant mound which explains the itchy red welts on Tobi’s back.”

Levi had been bitten enough times to know ant bites were painful. “But ant bites aren’t fatal.”

“This is where I did some extra research and talked to some more apothecary's and doctors. Apparently it is not completely implausible to infer that Tobias died from something called an allergic reaction. The swelling of his face, the difficulty breathing from an insect bite. It lines up so well with some of the other writings from doctors."

“Then how do you explain the plague?” Levi asked.

Erwin sighed. “I don’t think there’s any better way to tell you this but, I don’t believe the plague that killed your mother was caused by a witch. In fact, I don't believe witches actually exist.

                                     Trials and Tributes

“Levi, I have a theory.”

“You always have theories Hange,” Levi said, not looking up from the book he was reading.

“Humor me! That’s my book so I can get it back from you anytime I want.” Hange put her hand on the page he was reading so suddenly and so rudely that Levi had to resist the urge to slam the book closed on her hands then and there.

“Okay. I’m humoring you," Levi said.

“So, lately I’ve been noticing something about my herb garden. There is a small area where plants tended to die at a faster rate.”

“Uhuh.”

“So I pulled out the dying plants and I noticed something common about all of them. They had these white spots all over the stems and the leaves. They were like spider webs but there were more webs then spiders and you know the plants closest to them started to have those white spots too.”

“Oh, okay so a little discoloration on leaves,” Levi said matter-of-factly.

“So what if those white things are diseases, and being closer to one another, they spread more easily. What if people stuck together in close quarters just end up getting sick with the same disease? Maybe there are these invisible particles that fly through the air and when they get into people, people get sick. Maybe there are special particles which can swim too and when people drink the water they get sick?

Levi went back to the reading as Hange continued to ramble on. Somehow her theory had become too far fetched, not worth the time of day to even listen to anymore

“Didn’t your mother die in a plague? What if those particles are what causes plagues? ”

                                      Trials and Tributes

Levi had to admit that at the moment Erwin had suggested that witches might not exist, he did not feel adamant at all or even indignant at that claim. A wave of relief had rushed through him and he found himself settling back down on the chair in shock, his plans to clear his desk forgotten.

“Hange traced the origin of the dysentery problem to the well at the center of town…” Levi said, mostly too himself. Suddenly the ramblings and the theories Hange had made years ago over tea and book readings were suddenly starting to make more sense. “Erwin, you might be right.”

Erwin and Levi found themselves making their way to the prison cell where Hange was being held to satisfy their own curiosity.

The guard was quick to leave as soon as Erwin and Levi entered. Levi stood by the door, keeping an ear open for any footsteps that might be coming too near, and might possibly hear their conversations.

It was his first time visiting her cell in days but he couldn’t help but notice she had lost weight since he last saw her. He made a mental note to sneak more food next time he came over.

“Hange, sorry to bother you but we have something we wanted to confirm with you,” Erwin started as he settled himself on a chair in front of her cell.

“Ask away. It’s not like I have anything better to do here.”

It’s not like I have anything better to do here. Hange had repeated that line so many times back in the cabin in the woods. The way she had said it then though was softer and alarmingly toneless. Levi snuck a glance at her face or at least what he could make out from his angle. She had bent her head down, not bothering to look up at both him and Erwin. From what he could make out though, her eyes were downcast and the glint was nothing more than a flicker of what it used to be. At that moment, she looked completely disconsolate.

“How did you trace the diseases back to the well?” It was Erwin who spoke up. In that few seconds of silence, it was probably only Erwin who would have had the strength to start the conversation.

“The dysentery problem?” Hange asked.

Erwin nodded. “Yes. The one they discussed in your trial.” An unnecessary clarification but somehow, Levi felt it was needed, to fill the silence in the room and hopefully to get Hange to talk.

“I did my research,” Hange answered. “I was getting more than a dozen patients a day. I asked them where they lived… What they ate…” Hange trailed off.

Once again, the three all waited in silence. As they sat, Levi stood. And as Levi stood, he continued to entertain thoughts in his head. His mind was racing and it felt like it was only getting faster.

Maybe there are these invisible particles that fly through the air and when they get into people, people get sick. Maybe there are special particles which can swim too and when people drink the water they get sick?

“Hange, you told me long ago that you think there are these invisible particles in the air that can swim. And when people accidentally eat them they get sick. Is that what made you think that it could have come from the well in the center of town?”

Hange nodded.

“Do you think that the plague that happened when we were eight was from those same invisible particles?” Levi pressed.

She nodded again.

Erwin looked up at Levi in surprise. Levi remembered then that he never did tell Erwin that Hange was not an enemy but in fact, a childhood friend. Erwin was sharp though and within seconds that look of surprise had shifted to one of understanding. Levi did not need to explain anything.

“Levi, do you believe I’m a witch?”

That was the moment the survivor instinct inside of him decided to make itself known. Witches can compel their victims. Witches can bewitch. It was a battle between that part of him that resisted the urge to believe her and the part of him that wanted to accept her, to trust her.

Hell. We’ve known each other for years. She hadn’t done anything then to break his trust. Actually, he was the one who had broken his promise years ago.

“I don’t know.” was all Levi could let out. Those two sides of him had settled for that as a compromise.

“I for one don’t believe in witchcraft,” Erwin admitted before Levi and Hange could react beyond Levi’s admittance of neutrality. “And I will do what I need to do to make these lynchings end. If I come across anything of interest, anything which can help your case, I’ll pass it on to you. Thank you for your cooperation Hange.”

With that, Erwin stood up and exited the room leaving Levi scrambling to pick up the pieces.

“Levi, let me ask you something.” Hange asked. “If I really were a witch, if I did have malevolent intentions, don’t you think I would have done something a long time ago already?”

What if she did it all to manipulate me. What if she needs me for some end goal.

“Don’t get me wrong Hange. I feel compelled to help you and I probably will anyway,” Levi answered. “I just can’t discount the fact that this could be manipulation on your end.”

Hange looked up at him and for the first time that night, Levi saw her face for what it was. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were red and the lines under her eyes were only more defined than they were before. He only had a split second though to take in those features before they oriented themselves into a familiar expression he had come to know so well.

A simple, maybe even naive smile. “If you believe you’re being manipulated, then I give you permission not to bend over back for me. I’m ready to die.”

That could have easily been interpreted as manipulation. As Hange said that, Levi only felt more determined to find a way to save her. He couldn’t help but note though the Hange he knew was straightforward and not at all manipulative. She had always said what she meant or so that was what he had believed.

Levi found himself questioning those voices in his head instead. Those voices that doubted Hange. Maybe they were the ones manipulating me.

Levi gripped at the bars tightly and leaned closer towards her or as close as he could get at least when they were separated by prison bars “I don't know if this is all a game. If it is, you’re doing good because either way, I’m going to do what I can so you can make it out of this alive."

"Right after saying you believe I'm a witch?"

"You were my best friend. I owe you my younger years." Levi answered. " And as your best friend, I'll find a way out of this for you. And if I need to, I’ll take you out of this country, I’ll bring you down south."

                              Trials and Tributes

It was a very cold night. So cold that Levi wished he could have put it off to another night. Given that Hange would be taking the swimming test the day after tomorrow, he knew he only had that night to test his plan for himself.

As soon as the bible tests were over, Levi had been assigned to find a place to execute the swimming test. Even before he had visited Hange in the dungeon that night with Erwin, the gears in his mind had already been moving to keep Hange alive.

He had done his research from talking to the townspeople about bodies of water, geography and nearby hiding places for criminals. For research. He had said then. Nobody did ask too much of it. He was a soldier after all who kept the peace of their kingdom.

The time he had spent collecting information had given him options. The cost benefit analysis he did given those options was what led him to decide on one particular cliff that overlooked the sea only a thirty minute carriage ride from her prison. The locals had mentioned that it was a good area for cliff diving, the water was of a fair depth that it would be safe to dive.

And that’s what I have to see for myself. It was going to be his job to push Hange into the water in less than 24 hours, the least he could do is try it himself.

It was a risky move. Especially when his cheeks were already turning numb from the cold. Levi had to admit he was probably risking his own life at that moment. As he removed his overcoat and the shirt underneath with the intention of diving into the water head first, Levi had to take multiple breaks. His body was protesting the action and the protest manifested itself as a light shudder every time the cool night breeze brushed passed him.

You’re bewitched. Those voices reminded him. Levi did not need to listen though. Before he could even allow himself a second thought about his decision, before his body and his survival instincts could push him back, Levi jumped headfirst into the black sea below him.

It would be his sense of touch leading him from then on.

From the moment he hit the water and dove deeper, he allowed himself a few minutes with his hands behind his back to simulate what Hange would be going through. He counted thirty seconds and by then, his lungs were starting to ache. He reached his hands out in front of him, relying on his recall of his last view illuminated by the moonlight to guide him where he needed to go.

He turned behind him. The cliff side should be here. He kept his hands in front of him as he swam in the direction where the cliffside should be located. Within seconds he felt it. And with it came a glimmer of hope.

That hope was what he needed badly. His lungs were crying and he knew he would need air soon. He could have easily gone up and breathed it himself. He was constantly reminded though that Hange would not have that same luxury and he pressed on. Holding on to the side of the cliff, he continued to swim.

It should be around here. His lungs were starting to scream and Levi knew he might not last any long. He started to scramble and move quicker. A generally bad idea when his oxygen and his time conscious was limited.

At that moment though, Levi had luck on his side. That empty space in between the cliffside was what he was looking for. Finding that gave him the second wind he needed. Levi only pushed further into the cavern. The path was narrow and consequently, quick and easy to feel his way through.

By the time Levi’s lungs were screaming once again, the energy from his second wind almost completely depleted, Levi had already made it into an open space and with his last burst of strength he shot his hand out above him.

It was as if a weight was lifted off of his shoulders both literally and figuratively. The air was much lighter on his body, especially on his lungs. Levi opened his eyes to see the moon above him.

The cave was generally closed, save for an opening on the roof that illuminated the cave enough for Levi to see where the sky and the walls of the cave meet. As Levi lay on the ground of the cave, he took in the view and focused on watching how the view shifted slightly with the rise and the fall of his chest.

The moon was beautiful. So beautiful that Levi almost considered spending the night in the cave despite the biting cold. Biting? That wasn’t the right word. Numbing maybe.

Numbing. That reminder of his own mortality and the possibility of death was what had Levi sit up and rush out of the cave, despite his subdued sense of touch.

He had to get out of there. He had to stay alive. He still had a job to finish.

                                        Trials and Tributes

The water shall refuse to receive in her bosom those who have shaken off the sacred water of baptism.

In the easiest of words, if Hange were to be proven innocent and completely human, she had to drown. That was how they had explained it to the multiple witch suspects that have died similarly.

“If you do drown, your place in heaven is guaranteed.” The bishop had said, as he explained the history of that trial to the crowd who had gathered by the cliff. Levi kept himself looking only towards Hange who stood next to him while the priest prattled on about their ‘guaranteed heaven.’ Those were the same people who had sold indulgences and places in heaven to the nobility long before.

He had never seen heaven. He had seen scams in action though and somehow that and his own generally negative opinion of the clergymen was all he needed to feel such a distaste for their actions.

Hange was in light garments despite the cool breeze that came with early spring. Levi wore something similar in the form of a cotton shirt and dress pants, a subtle gesture of solidarity on his end.

Hange Zoe. He only found himself looking back at the crowd and at the person in question when her name was mentioned. What followed the announcement of her names were cheers. But Levi knew it wasn’t anything to celebrate for him.

The crowd wanted to see blood. A potato sack was placed on the ground next to Hange and Levi felt his stomach drop as he started to comprehend the risk that came with his plan. Although he had simulated that same escape the night before, Hange would be faced with the extra challenge of cutting through the ropes and the sack before being able to dive and escape to the cave.

To balance it out at least, he had fed her as much information as he possibly could.

When you feel the wall in front of you, keep going left.

Dive when you feel the cliff turn rougher.

You’re going to have to dive down deep to find it.

Levi had racked his head for as much detail as he could as he oriented Hange to the location of the sea cave.

I’ll meet you there at night when it gets dark. I’ll send food. Then just stay in the cave until I can fix your papers and find you a way out of here.

While he helped Hange into the potato sack, he searched for an opening to dig his small dagger in between the tightly woven ropes, in preparation for their plan. As soon as he did, Hange touched the dull part of the blade with her fingers and tapped the side of his finger, a small gesture that she had understood what needed to do. The quick tap was somehow reassuring.

Good luck. Stay alive. He mouthed. She wouldn’t have heard it but he had not wanted to risk anything louder than that. Even with the deafening cheers of the crowd. Levi pulled the sack over her with the help of one of the guards. He had no time to even allow himself one last look at the knife digging into the ropes. He could not risk anyone finding it.

The other guard had offered to help Levi throw the sack over the cliff but Levi declined. He didn’t even trust himself to throw over the cliff. How could he trust anyone else?  Hange wasn’t heavy though. In fact, Levi was sure he had carried weapons much heavier and had shot arrows with draw weights much heavier than her.

Yet, her weight was crushing him  and Levi felt his arms going numb underneath him as he carried the sack towards the edge of the cliff.

The sack was warm, a little too warm. The contents of the sack reacted to every moment. As much as Levi had wanted to pretend that it was just a sack of potatoes or maybe even a dead body. He couldn’t. He closed his eyes for a second and had somehow felt a heartbeat beneath that potato sack. It was a little too fast and maybe even deafening.

Hange. That’s Hange. I’m holding Hange in my arms.

At that rate, Levi could not even tell if it was his own heart or hers. Will this work out? Will this be the last time I hear that heartbeat?

There was no turning back.

“Heave…” Levi pulled the sack behind him to gather some moment.

The heartbeat evolved from a canter to a gallop as he felt the strength quickly spread through his arms. He remembered then, he had an obligation to moderate his strength as well. He didn’t want her landing too far from the cliff either or worse, get seriously hurt on impact.

“Ho!” Levi threw the sack forward, slowing down as he did. All he needed to do was make sure the sack covered enough distance that she wouldn’t hit the cliffside prematurely

It was as if time slowed down when Levi found himself in a good position to let go of the sack. He had found himself peeling his hand from the sack, finger by finger. The heartbeat he had felt in the sack, the warmth were like the threads of a spider web, sticking to him so tenaciously, so desperately.

He didn’t want to let go.

                                    Trials and Tributes

“Wow! I didn’t think there would be this many types of knives. I’ve only ever played with a letter opener.”

“Don’t you have knives around here? How do you do research without them?” Levi asked half heartedly as he continued to polish his saxe knife.

“Well, I make my own. You don’t really need anything too sharp to be able to cut up leaves. Sometimes you can just do it like this.” Hange tore one of the oregano leaves a little more roughly to make her point.

“Well, fighting gets a little complicated apparently.” Levi positioned his knife in front of the window of the cabin and watched as the silver glistened under the sunlight that streamed through the window. “Uncle said this knife is strong enough to parry the blow of a sword. If you can control it…” Just imagining a sword coming down on a knife only a quarter of the size of a sword had Levi shuddering. One miscalculated movement and he could find himself three less fingers.

“Learning to use weapons takes time. And I doubt your uncle is gonna make you fight a swordsman just yet.”

“My uncle said he’ll teach the technique. I just have to do the drills he gives me everyday.”

Hange clumsily spun Levi’s throwing knife in her hand only to end up dropping it on the floor. She let out a disappointed sigh. “Hey Levi, after your uncle teaches you, can you teach me? I wanna learn how to handle a knife too.”

                                   Trials and Tributes

The sack they had pulled out of the water was stained red. And that blood stain covered half the sack.

While the clergymen and the guards were panicking at the missing body. Levi was alarmed for other reasons. Was she alive? Did she make it out safely?

He had hope for the luxury of letting out a tear, or rushing to the side of the cliff, kneeling down and looking closely at the water to maybe search for signs of life like a mad man. It would only be unwise to do such. The most he could allow himself was a catatonic state and maybe a twinge of envy at the clergymen who had the luxury to babble curses at the guard who had probably so incompetently left a hole in the sack to punch through.

Fortunately, no one was blaming him just yet. He didn’t want to give them the opening either. The matter at hand was time sensitive. If Hange wasn’t dead, she might still be flickering between life and death at the moment. He had to get to where she was soon.

He murmured a few words at the guard about wanting to check something and about them being able to go ahead and slowly walked away. Levi couldn’t run just yet, not when he was still within their field of view. To compensate though, his heart and his mind were racing. As he turned the corner and into the path which led to the cove and eventually to the sea cave, he was more quickly able to adjust to a sprint.

Levi had mentally readied himself to dive into the water even before he entered the cave. He had started to unbutton his own cotton shirt as he sprinted in, not wanting to waste any more time.

The rush and the panic that was only consuming him made him clumsy and a little awkward as he moved. The moment his plans and his expectations were subverted by the sight of a very wet and bloodied Hange kneeling on the ground next to the water, Levi ended up losing his balance and tripping on the floor right in front of her.

“You made it here alive… I was worried.” Levi managed to say as he pulled himself back up into a kneeling position. His knees and palms were starting to hurt and Levi was sure he would need to treat his own wounds a little later on.

“Yeah, I ended up cutting my wrist when I cut through the ropes...It bled out a lot but I never really was as coordinated as you are with knives... Sorry for putting that training you gave me to waste.” Hange was only rambling aimlessly. As Levi made eye contact with her, he noticed her eyes were still a little too wide and her smile too unnatural. Levi could not help but think that she had felt the same way he did when he had first arrived in that same cave a few nights before. Her face had shown it all. She was just as surprised to be alive as he was.

But she is alive. That’s all that mattered. Levi would have wanted to hug her then but at the same time he did not want to lose sight of her. He settled for putting his hand on her arm and gripped hard. “At this point Hange, I don’t care if you’re a fucking witch or not. If you are, save yourself. Run away. Go save some other kids. Go discover a plague before it happens. You don't deserve this. Nobody deserves the shit they put you through. I’ll get you out of here if I need to.”

Hange returned his strong grip on her arm by gripping his wrist. For a second, her face was unreadable. Then soon after something took over and that face had morphed into something wild and even primitive. It was as if Hange was possessed. Suddenly she was squeezing his wrist much harder than Levi had ever expected from her. He let out a groan of pain as he recoiled at the sudden attack.

Hange threw his hand back at him and snarled. "Don’t touch me!"

And just like that, it was as if he was talking to a completely different person. Or a completely different creature.

[emy-loves-you]

Have Your Name (And Your Back) Chapter 6

Chapter 5 | Masterlist | Chapter 7

Summary: Patton is told more about the Fairies he stays with, but by the end he's left with more questions than answers.

Warning: Bathing. This chapter is also mainly used for world building and can be seen as info-dumping, but I needed to get most of this info out now so y’all weren’t confused in later chapters

Patton woke up with a low moan, stretching out on the bed. He felt lazy and warm, his limbs pleasantly stiff as he snuggled under the blankets. He had always been woken up by someone else, whether it be his mo-Lady Hart yelling at him to get to work or Prince’s soothing magic from yesterday. It felt so relaxing to wake up on his own, with no immediate need to get up and do work. He laid in bed for a few minutes, savoring the warm sheets over him and the soft mattress beneath him. If it was possible, Patton would be fully content to stay in this bed for the rest of his life, warm and happy and content.

Eventually, however, he felt his familiar urges and left to use the restroom. As he finished up and washed his hands, Patton stared longingly at the large bathtub. It was large and circular, and Patton was sure that if he layed in the middle of it and stretched his limbs in any direction he wouldn’t be able to touch the edge. The outer edge was slightly deeper than the average tub and deepened as it reached the center, the direct center almost as deep as Patton was tall, and small bottles sat on the edge of the tub.

Patton bit his lip as he stared at the tub. Prince said that this was all Patton’s. Did that mean he could take a bath? He wasn’t allowed to bathe at the Hart manor, only short cold showers when he was extremely smelly. He had sometimes ran the bath for Lady Hart, and he was pretty sure he knew what bathing entailed, but he’d never actually done it.

Patton’s curiosity won as he stripped himself of his clothes. He cringed as the clothes clung to his skin. He was used to wearing grimy clothes for weeks on end, but the feeling of fresh clean clothes yesterday had truly spoiled him. Patton had seen a few pairs of pajamas in the closet; maybe he could change into them before he went to bed tonight?

Patton put his clothes into the small basket next to the door and gasped as they disappeared. Magic is amazing! He turned to the tub and frowned when there was only one handle. He’d only seen tubs with two handles. He turned the handle and gasped as his hand tingled from the contact. Water began slowly dribbling out, and Patton put his hand under to feel the temperature. It was pleasantly warm but not hot, just like he wished it would be. He turned the handle to try and make the water flow faster but it didn’t budge. He shrugged and glanced over at the small bottles. There were different soaps and a few bottles of oils. He opened one of the oil bottles and smiled at the warm vanilla scent. He carefully poured a few drops into the water, just as he had done with Lady Hart’s baths.

Suddenly the faucet started running at a faster rate, apparently waiting for the oil to be added before filling the tub. Patton put the bottle away before carefully stepping into the tub, moaning as the warm water seeped into his skin. He laid his head on the edge of the tub and fully relaxed, finding it even better than his bed. He didn’t even have an experience to compare this to, reveling in the sensation of lying beneath the still water.

He laid in the water until his fingers started to wrinkle, slowly washing his body and hair. He stretched each action out for as long as possible, not wanting to leave the tub. Eventually, however, he had to leave with a slightly heavy heart yet content smile. He stood up and picked up a towel that had appeared on the counter at some point during his bath, drying himself before wrapping the towel around his body. The towel covered his small frame, easily wrapping around him and stretching from his armpits to below his knees. He sighed at the feeling and made his way to the closet, deciding to wear a pale blue shirt that went down to his knees along with some white tights. The clothes were tighter than yesterday’s pair but they were still comfortably loose, the shirt fanning out when Patton spun around.

He giggled and went back to the bedroom, spinning around in small circles until he was dizzy. As Patton flopped down onto the floor he noticed something new in his room. A small table stood in the corner of the room, a large book and journal sitting on top with a pencil. Remembering his conversation with Prince about learning fae culture, Patton grabbed the items and sat down in bed, getting comfy as he looked over the new items. The book was a deep red color with gold lettering, luckily in the same language as the cookbook Patton was used to reading. It was weird to find out that the language he could read was not the same language he could speak. The words on the page were easy to read and translate to verbal English, even if he didn’t understand what some of the words meant, though he couldn’t speak the language that was written or write in English. Is that because I can only read in that language and speak in English, or is the Fae magic helping me again?

Patton shook his head and focused back on the book. The title read How to Survive an Encounter With the Fair Folk, and there was no author name in sight. The journal was a dull brown leather, with no significant markings. Patton flipped to the first page, expecting it to be blank. Instead, there was half a page worth of writing- in the language Patton could read- labeled ‘Instructions.’ Patton carefully read them over.

As you read the information found in either the books supplied to you or this journal, use these symbols to communicate your comprehension levels. If you understand a question or wish to respond with ‘yes,’ simply place a checkmark (✓) next to whatever you’re responding to. If you disagree with a statement or wish to respond with ‘no,’ place the Latin letter ex (X) next to whatever you’re responding to. If you are confused, place a question mark (?) next to whatever confuses you. Lastly, if you only wish to respond to a small word or phrase, please underline the word or phrase before placing a checkmark, ex or question mark. Also, if you wish to respond to multiple sentences or an entire section, please surround the text that you are responding to with parenthesis (the text would go between the two parentheses as shown). Once you have woken up and read this, please acknowledge that you have read and understood these instructions.

Patton read it over a few times to make sure he had it right before surrounding the entire set of instructions in parenthesis and placing a ✓ at the end of it. A few moments later writing began to appear. It was breathtaking to watch, seeing the text appear mark by mark without a pen or pencil in the way. It was so entrancing that three whole lines of text appeared before Patton remembered to actually read it.

Salutations. You may call me Logic. I was the one wearing the blue accessories at Lord Hart’s dinner. I will be calling you ‘Heart’ for the time being, since it is phonetically similar to ‘Hart’ in English. The language that I am currently writing in is German, the same language that your cookbook was in. I have been made aware that you are severely lacking in multiple areas, specifically writing. Hopefully your knowledge and skill will improve over the next few months as these lessons progress. While I was originally told to teach you about Fae culture as a whole, we will instead be learning about how to survive a Fae encounter from a human perspective. While none of the faries in this manor would intentionally harm you, you could seriously endanger yourself if you interact with some of them without proper precaution. The fairies in purple and yellow are not allowed to speak with you unless Prince is present, and not after you’ve learned the correct precautionary measures. The Fae in purple has already let you call him Umbra, but he wanted me to inform you that you may call him Anx or Anxiety. The Fae in yellow has said that you may call him Deceit. Please ask any questions now or indicate that you understand so we may continue.

Patton underlined the word ‘phonetically’ and was happy to receive a definition immediately afterword. Phonetically- In the way it sounds. He read over the passage again and frowned, a familiar unease settling in the back of his mind as he read the names. He underlined ‘You may call me Logic’ and placed a question mark over ‘Logic.’ He frowned when he read the text that appeared under the passage.

Logic is what you would refer to me with. For example, you could tell the Duke ‘Logic is teaching me how to take proper precautions against Fae.

Patton frowned, putting an X next to the answer. That’s not the question he was asking! He underlined ‘Logic’ and put an X over it, then proceed to do that with all of the Fae names, and the name ‘Heart’ that Logic had given him. After that he underlined ‘Lord Hart’ and placed a ✓ above it. Lastly, he underlined ‘You may call me’ again and placed a question mark on top of it. He watched for several minutes as the page remained the same before a response eventually appeared at the bottom.

Heart, I assume the issue is the use of real names over fake names. But I have a question to ask first: do you believe my name is Logic or Glacies? Patton immediately put an X over both names, and there seemed to be a pause before Logic started writing again. Have you ever felt an odd sensation occur when a fairy gave you a name to call them by? An itching in your skin, a niggling in the back of your mind, an unnatural sense of unease? Patton sighed in relief, placing a ✓ above each description. One last question: has anyone’s magic caused you to gain nosebleeds, nausea or intense headaches? Patton placed an X at the end of the sentence and the writing seemed much more relaxed as it wrote. That is fortunate. If you had, you would have been showing symptoms for what is basically an immunity disorder caused by an oversensitivity to magic. Some mortals are unknowingly born with it, and the constant exposure of magic would have eventually made you permanently ill and potentially send you into a magical coma or kill you. Though I am not sure why you displayed the first set of symptoms. You were clearly sensitive enough to notice the magic being used, but you didn’t suffer any ill effects. I will have to look into that as time goes on.

In order to understand why the names feel odd, we first need to go over how Fae magic works. There are two types of Fae magic: physical magic and negotiation magic. Physical magic involves the magic you’ve seen occur inside this manor: Prince’s fire magic, the enchantment on your wardrobe (which I performed) and the enchantment on these books that allow us to communicate. Physical magic only requires the fairy in question to perform it, and while it is weaker than negotiational magic, the effects are extremely specific and easy to control. Negotiation magic requires a deal to be made between the Fae and someone else. One of the most powerful and dangerous parts of negotiational magic is the power behind one’s name. All names are extremely valuable but only to those who can wield negotiational magic. When you openly give away your name, you essentially create a deal where you give away the ability to control your actions in exchange for practically nothing. When Prince ordered Lord and Lady Hart to sit down and not focus on the door behind them, they performed the actions as if they had came up with the idea. This was because they gave away their names to Prince without knowing the consequences. If you were aware that you gave your name away to a fairy, you could attempt to fight their control, but you would most likely be unsuccessful. That is why instead of saying “my name is” then saying your real name, you instead say “you may call me” then state a fake name for them to call you. We give you fake names to refer to us by because while you couldn’t do anything as a human, you could accidentally give our names away to a fairy or witch with ill-intent. And while you can trust everyone in this manor, Anxiety and Deceit are born fairies, so they may accidentally use their power over you in initial interactions, as it is within their nature to do so.

Patton sighed in relief as he read over Logic’s explanation. Knowing that there was a reason for his sense of unease and that he wasn’t just being freaky relieved him. He read over the last sentence and frowned, underlining ‘born’ and put a question mark next to it. There was hesitation again before Logan responded.

There are many types of supernatural beings in this world, Heart, and many types of fairies as well. The two main types of fairies are born fairies and transformed fairies. The difference is just as it sounds: born fairies were born as fairies with all of their parents being Fae as well. Transformed fairies were once human but were turned into Fae. Born fairies are more in tune with their magic and specialize in negotiation magic, but they tend to perform said magic subconsciously. Transformed fairies take time to be in tune with their magic and specialize in physical magic, and they are forced to be conscious of their magic as soon as they gain it so they don’t accidentally injure themselves.

Patton’s head was left spinning from that explanation. Humans could turn into fairies?! How was that possible? And Logic had said that only Anxiety and Deceit were born fairies, did that mean that the rest of them were transformed? And what did he mean by ‘all of their parents’? Why didn’t he just say ‘both’? Patton frantically scribbled at the paper, trying to properly convey all of his questions. The pause this time was even longer, the hesitancy obvious as Logic answered.

You aren’t ready to know most of those answers. If you end up staying here, you will most likely gain your answers over the years as you grow. But I will answer one of them, if only so that you don’t try and snoop around. Prince and the Duke were human twins and made a deal with their own Fairy Godfather. After they grew up they were transformed into fairies. Soon after they transformed they met Anxiety and Deceit, two born fairies. Prince and Anxiety are mates, along with the Duke and Deceit. Around 30 years ago I made a deal with the Duke to be my Fairy Godfather. I was 12 at the time, and when I turned 18 I was transformed. The term ‘Fairy Godfather’ is actually quite a loose term: they are simply the fairy that houses you and protects you until you come of age, where you are then either transformed into a fae or sent back into the human world. If you are transformed you gain magic, your aging slows to a crawl and you become an official member of the family. If you return to the human world, you’ll have either your memories wiped or your tour tongue tied to prevent you from informing the human population of the knowledge of the Fae. Again, you don’t need to fully comprehend all of this yet. You still haven’t completed your deal with Prince yet, and most of this information won’t be valuable to you until you’re nearing 18. Right now you need to learn how to safely interact with other fae and learn skills that will be useful in both the Fae and human worlds, such as writing and math.

Patton felt his head spin at the information but he ended up putting a ✓ at the end anyways. He still had a lot of questions, but he understood that he needed to wait until he was older to ask them. It baffled him that all of this information would be taught to him as he neared 18. He was turning 15 in a few months! Could he really learn all of that and more in just 3 years?

I think you have learned enough for now, Heart. Prince should be by in a few minutes to take you to breakfast. I suggest you try and read the first two chapters of the book next to you before dinner tonight. The sooner you learn how to protect yourself, the sooner you can leave your room and interact with the other Fae. I would like to speak with you again tomorrow morning to see if you have any questions regarding the reading material. Does this sound acceptable? Patton quickly wrote down a ✓ and the message continued. Then I shall talk to you tomorrow. Farewell.

Patton waited to make sure that no more writing appeared before closing the notebook. He sat it down and closed his eyes, trying to keep his breathing steady. That was a lot of information, especially in one sitting. He’d only known about the existence of fairies for a little over a day! He was still waiting for Prince to punish him for his misbehavior or give him a list of impossible chores to do. Or worse, send him back to Hart manor. He shuddered at the thought, shaking his head. His Fairy Godfather had promised to protect him and make him happy, and Patton trusted him.

Knock knock knock

Patton leapt out of bed and answered the door, finding Prince waiting patiently on the other side. “Good morning, young one. Ready for breakfast?”

Patton bit his lip, looking down at his feet as he summoned his courage. “Could- could you call me Heart? Please?”

Prince kneeled down, gently grabbing Patton’s chin and tilting it to where he was looking him in the eye. “I will gladly call you whatever you wish to be called, Heart.” He held out his free hand. “Will you please join me for breakfast, Heart?”

Patton smiled and nodded, his heart swelling with joy as he took his Fairy Godfather’s hand.

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

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

[hournites]

The Bet 

Flirty!Beth & Oblivious!Rick For @canary-warrior​

~.~ 

Beth folds the paper she’s holding onto in half, then again, biting her lip to conceal her smile as she sneaks up on Rick half dozing off on the couch. The Pit Stop is still open, Pat was making conversation with one of his customers downstairs, but up in the loft it’s quiet, and the curtain over the only window is pulled over. Rick must’ve crashed here after his weekend shift helping Pat with keeping up the shop.  She leans over from behind, peering at his face and resists the urge of messing up his hair just for the kick of it. 

“Sleepy?” 

Rick blinks and makes some noise between a groan and a yawn. He pulls himself up from his sunken position and shoots her a boyish smile, rubbing one of his fists over his eye. “Hey.” 

“Hi.” Beth’s fingers are still fidgeting around the paper. She may have spent several hours hunting the deep and confusing academic side of the internet for what she was looking for. “I have a little something for you.” 

Either this is going to work or this is going to work. She woke up early this morning strategizing, planning her delivery and predicting his reaction. So far she hopes she didn’t miscalculate. 

“What?” 

Beth waves the white mysterious square above his head. “Only the world’s most difficult chemistry problem. Bet you can’t do it.” 

“What?!” Rick shoots up. “Give me that!” 

And just like that, she has his interest. 

Beth spins on her heel, whisking it away as he reached up to grab it. Rick twists around, leaning on his arm as he watched her hide it behind her back. 

“Wait,” she says. “What do I get first?” 

“What do you get what?” 

“What do I get when you can’t solve it?” She keeps her tone light, pretends like her heart isn’t beating faster in her chest. Doesn’t allow her voice to make any falter as she suggests, “Dinner?” 

Rick lets out an indignant scoff. “What makes you so sure I can’t?” 

She dangles it in front of him, watching gleefully as his eyes got big and round. What a gigantic geek. All she had to do was promise the challenge of some chemistry equations and she got him all fired up right out of a nap? “Prove me wrong then.” 

“Fine! It’s on.” He takes the paper and unfolds it, flapping his other hand at her to help get him extra scrap paper as he searches the pockets of his worn jacket for his leaky pen he kept wrapped in a paper towel. Beth made the mistake of asking him about that once when she offered to buy him a new one. Turns out it used to be his dad’s good fountain pen, left abandoned in his study for Rick to find, and spend years chewing the cover on. He doesn’t mind the ink. 

Beth reaches into her bag, five steps ahead of him, taking out the graph paper he’s going to need. He looks up at her, momentarily surprised. Then not.

His eyes scan the numbers and letters and equations on the page, and he’s already mumbling out some type of gibberish Beth doesn’t even want to try following. 

Ten minutes turn into fifteen, then twenty, and Beth unabashedly stares at Rick. He’s still on the couch, with littered graph paper all around him. 

“Damn it,” he says after realizing something’s not right. Beth is aching to ask just how far along he got, but doesn’t want to ruin this competitive fueled frenetic energy she could live off of just by observing.

“Stuck?” she singsongs. Sitting on the coffee table, she keeps ripping out sheets of graph paper when he sticks a hand out for one. 

“Nooooo,” he lies. 

“It’s okay if you can’t figure it out, Rick. It’s okay.” 

“No, I can do it,” he answers stubbornly. He’s rattling off theoretics, and she knows it’s just for him to make sense of the problem as he goes through it. 

Beth interrupts, touching his jittery knee. “Well, if you do, then I will take you out for coffee.” She holds her breath, wondering if that will tear his gaze from his calculations for a second long enough to see her be serious. 

Instead, he’s batting her prodding hand away with his pen, playful and distracted. “You’re on.” 

Beth sighs after a few more minutes go by. Maybe this isn’t the best way to get his attention. “Can I at least sit on the couch?” she asks. “I’m feeling tired.” 

That snaps Rick right out of work. His face clouds over guiltily, realizing he completely littered the couch with his equations and other dead ends. “Yeah, shit.” He brushes the balls of paper he deemed too ridiculous to be worth keeping. “Yeah, Beth of course.” 

She plops herself, on the couch, and goes as far as placing her head in his lap. It’s self-indulgent, Beth is well aware, but she’s been overtly flirting with Rick for almost three months now to his complete and utter oblivion. At this point, Beth will take what she can get from him. 

He’s slowing down as Beth shifts, realizing one of his balled up works is poking at her back. She pulls it out, opening it up and smoothes the crinkles and wrinkles and creases. Her brows pull together, reading his handwriting. She knew Rick was very smart with Chemistry, but this is next level. It looks like something right out of Einstein’s journal. It really does.

“Wow,” she murmurs, more to herself than meant for him to hear. “Okay, genius.” 

“Those are all of my mistakes,” he points out. 

Beth tilts her head up at him and licks her lips. “You make good mistakes then.” 

He chuckles, and their eyes meet. Beth wants nothing more than to reach up in the short space between them to kiss him. 

She pulls her gaze away, not wanting him to see her get flushed so up close. She takes a breath, and fiddles with the rainbow pendant of her necklace instead. Of course, sometimes Beth wants to quit playing these games with him and just up and tell him she likes him. Really, really likes him. But a part of her worries he knows she’s flirting and is ignoring her because he doesn’t feel the same. A bigger part wants the satisfaction of seeing the realization dawn on his face. The realization that he’s wanted. Hopefully, the happiness that maybe his own feelings are returned? 

That’s likely wishful thinking.

 “So,” he says casually, “How long does it usually take the experts to finish questions like these?” 

“Chuck says six weeks.” 

“What?!?” 

Beth lets out a laugh. “Yeah, you might as well throw in the towel--I was thinking dinner at--” 

“Beth I’m like--halfway done.” 

It’s her turn to startle. She nearly loses her balance completely and tumbles over the side of the couch. “What?!?” 

The entire plan was to get him to give up so she’d get a dinner date out of it. Rick wasn’t actually supposed to be almost finished in a fraction of the time--what? 

“You’re a literal prodigy” she blurts out. Beth can’t even conceal her googly eyes. 

And yet, she can hear-- suspiciously in Chuck’s voice--

A chemistry mastermind, yes, but can’t see it between two people if he tried. 

Rick seems suddenly embarrassed. “Well…” 

Beth gets up and holds out a hand. “Come on, Mr. Prodigy-Man. How about pizza?” 

“I thought you said dinner is for when I give up. I didn’t give up, Beth.” 

He lets her pull him away from the couch anyway.  

“This can be our pre-dinner dinner. You can always get back to it later.” 

“Pre-dinner dinner?” he teases. 

Her hand is on her hip. “I said what I said.” 

Rick gives her another sideglance. “You are really fiesty today, you know that?” 

Beth does her best not to look too pleased. “Is that a problem?” 

“No.” He sticks his hands into his pockets, shooting her another glance. “It’s fun. I like this side of you.” 

Beth is pretty sure that sentence will make her week. 

They pass by Pat downstairs as they head out of the Pit Stop. He takes one good look at them and rolls his eyes. Beth shrugs discreetly. No, nothing has changed. Yes, she’s still pining. No, Rick hasn’t stopped being blind to it. Yes, Beth still wants him anyway. No, she can’t explain it. Beth wraps her arm around his as they get to the sidewalk. 

“I like you,” she blurts out randomly. Although to her, it is so not random. Beth did not mean to say it like that. She honestly did not. But it was kinda on a repetitive chant in the back of her mind, beside her homework and JSA puzzle pieces she still feels the need to prod over

Rick smiles. “Yeah, I like you too.” 

She can tell by the way he says it as they walk up to the diner that he still has totally no idea. 

“Actually--” 

He turns, arching an eyebrow and Beth loses her nerve. 

“Never mind.” She heaves another longing sigh, pushing on the glass and plasters on a smile. “Pepperoni?” 

One of these days he’ll get it. 

[drakefeathers]

anyway this is the beginning of my twewy fic that’s been consuming me for the past month. it’s like. almost 11k now. i'm so close but the last 5% goes the slowest always. neo spoilers obvs.

--

The route is a little different each time, but it follows the same rhythm. He hits up the usual spots—the scramble, Hachiko, 104. The mural in Udagawa. Then over to Cat Street, and always ending at the river, looking down into the dark entrance of that tunnel.

He’ll mix it up in between, depending on how the mood strikes. Take a loop through Dogenzaka, linger around Center Street or roll through the park. Headphones on, music playing, he keeps it loose and lets his board lead the way, hoping it’ll take him to what he’s looking for.

Scramble’s as crowded as ever today. Beat steps off his board and crosses on foot to avoid crashing into anybody. As he moves along with the stream of pedestrians he keeps an eye out for a pair of headphones, Jupiter brand clothing, a bright head of hair on a scrawny frame—the kind of familiar things that could use a second look.

In the middle of the crossing, he stops. Someone bumps into him, but he stands firm, and the crowd flows around him. He closes his eyes and focuses on screaming one thought as loud as he can in his mind, loud enough to drown out all the noise in this city. 

Loud enough that if someone was out there, listening, they couldn’t help but hear him.

A moment goes by. Beat opens his eyes again and keeps walking, stepping onto the curb just as the walk signal blinks over to red.

—

The three of them used to search Shibuya together, at the beginning. But that was a long time ago. Now each of them does their own thing. Beat likes it better this way—alone, he can cover more ground faster on his board. And he can roll with each hit of disappointment as it comes, easier than shielding someone else from it.

Most days he’ll find Shiki by Hachiko. She brings homework or a sketchpad and sits on the railing nearest to the statue, working, but mostly waiting. They don’t always talk—sometimes there isn’t much to say, and he’ll just give a nod as he glides by.

It hurts to see her sitting there. Makes it tough to ignore that hollow feeling in his chest when the same yearning is written clear on her face. Every few minutes she’ll look up and scan the crowds around her with a kind of quiet hope, then lower her gaze again in resignation. The same motion over and over, day after day.

They’ve never brought it up, but Beat knows she can feel it just as much as him, that Neku isn’t erased. That connection from their pact never disappeared, not completely. When they fought the Noise together in the UG it blazed like an inferno, since returning to the RG it’s dwindled down to a spark. But it’s not gone, and neither is Neku. He isn’t even that far away. 

He feels so near that Beat can’t shake the sense that the next time he looks over his shoulder he might see Neku there, looking back at him.

Shiki isn’t waiting outside today, but Beat spots her in the nearby cafe, sitting at the counter against the window, facing the square. Her stuffed animal is placed on the tabletop where it can be easily seen. Shiki smiles brightly at Beat and waves at him through the glass, and he waves back and heads inside.

“I heard it was going to rain soon, so I snagged a seat in here,” Shiki says as he sits down on the stool next to her. She pushes over a plate with an untouched half of a sandwich. “Here, you can finish this if you want.”

Beat’s not going to say no to that. Shiki sketches a bit frantically on her tablet while he eats. At one point she lets out a stressed little sigh and scrubs at the screen to erase half her work. 

“Whatchu got there?” Beat asks. 

“I’m finishing some new concepts for our winter collection. We got funding to double the size of the launch, if you can believe it. I’m hoping we can fit a few more items in.”

“Winter? But it ain’t even summer yet.”

“I know, I’m super behind, actually.” She taps on the screen and pulls up a picture of a plaid coat, smiling at it fondly. “I think Neku would like this one, don’t you? Maybe he’ll be able to wear it in the UG.”

The figure she drew doesn’t even have a face, but it’s Neku. Something about the tilt of the head, the line of its outstretched arm… Beat can’t pinpoint it exactly. He has no idea how Shiki does that, or if she’s even aware.

“Ever since we got the shop in 104, I sometimes think… what if he just walked in one day?” Shiki confesses. She adjusts her glasses as she looks up and gazes out the window hopefully. “I mean… I guess it could happen.”

Beat takes a quick glance over his shoulder. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

“Anyway, how’s Rhyme? I’ve been so busy, I haven’t talked to her in a while.”

“Good. Busy, too, burnin’ through all those computer courses she’s taking. She’s always holed up in her room, and I don’t understand half of what she’s talking ‘bout these days.”

“She’s still trying to find a way to hack into the UG, right?” Shiki taps a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “That would be amazing. Is it even possible?”

“If anyone can do it, it’s her,” says Beat, his pride clouded with worry, because, honestly, he wishes she wouldn’t. He hates the idea of Rhyme getting mixed up with the Reapers again, even from behind a computer.

“What about you, what have you been up to?” Shiki asks.

“Nothin’ new,” he says with a shrug. “Hittin’ the streets, like usual. Been a long time since I seen anyone from the UG, though.”  

“Besides that.” There’s a concerned crinkle between her eyebrows. “How’s school? Or— are things at home any better?”

Beat smiles. “It is what it is, like my sis’d say.” He stands and slings his bag over his shoulder. “I gotta bounce, yo. Later, Shiki.”

“Bye, Beat. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

—

Some event is going on at 104 this afternoon, the entrance is blocked by a crowd of excited teenagers. Beat gives them a wide berth as he takes his usual quick pass by the building, watching the bustling shoppers and the big video screen for signs of anything suspicious that might hint at the Reapers being up to some shit again. He doesn’t spend a lot of time around here, it’s always too busy, and Shiki’s got this one covered.

There’s a lot of people carrying shopping bags from her store today. He’s happy she’s making her dream come true. She was so torn up with guilt over it for so long, even though they all know it’s what Neku would’ve wanted. It sucks that he isn’t around to see it.

Beat tries not to dwell on these kind of thoughts—there’s no point to it, and it’s not his style, better to keep moving—but as he heads up Center Street he passes a group of friends standing outside a photo booth, laughing loudly over the pictures they’d just taken, enjoying their day together, and he’s freshly gut-punched with how fucking unfair it is. 

They won that game. They’d made it out. They were *good*. For those few short weeks, it had really felt like things were going to work out.

Coming back to life had been like a second chance. He and Rhyme were closer than ever, and he had some new friends, forged in fire. His parents were actually a bit better when he got home from the “hospital”, distraught after nearly losing both their kids, and they were cutting him some breaks for once. He even tried pretty hard with school again, and did alright on a few tests.

Not that it was all great. He’s still haunted by that lost look on Rhyme’s face as she sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor their first day back home, her old diary open on her lap, flipping through half-blank pages. “There’s nothing here,” she’d said quietly, with a heartbreaking kind of acceptance.

Beat stood in the doorway, his shaking hands clenched uselessly into fists. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. His vision blurred with tears, and he fought them back, knowing he didn’t have the right. He shouldn’t be crying, he wasn’t the one to lose something precious.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Rhyme stood and gave him a comforting hug that he knew he didn’t deserve. He was probably holding her too tightly, still trying to convince himself that it was real, that she was really there, but she didn’t complain. “All that matters is that we’re together.” After he finally managed to let her go, she went and picked up the diary from the floor, shutting it with a clap. “It’s a closed door. I just have to find my window.”

Rhyme smiled then, small but determined, and Beat knew she would be all right. She always finds a way to face forward. And, for the first time, he felt like maybe he was, too.

It was nice, for a while. But it sure as hell didn’t last. 

Now he moves through this city on an endless loop. His grades are trash, his parents barely speak to him except to complain about what a disappointment he is, and he spends too many nights awake trying to outrun nightmares on his skateboard, which just makes the rest of it worse.

But none of that really matters. Not school, definitely not what his parents think of him. The only worthwhile things he’d ever done had been with Neku. They saved Rhyme together, and this whole city. Beat owes him everything. He’ll be damned if he lets his best bud just slip through the cracks of reality. He’s gonna keep looking, no matter how long it takes.