#i cannot possibly tag them all i’m too tired for that

[thatfaecreature]

i want us all to appreciate the cinematic masterpiece of a scene that was scott towering up and being fired at from everywhere just to land a water bucket clutch, good day

[7brownsuga7]

The God who answers after dark ☆

One - Remember:

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Summary: Time has slipped through your fingers since that last encounter with him—the one where he showed you a side of intimacy you hadn’t known before. His touch lingered long after he left, a haunting reminder of what it felt like to be close to someone in ways you couldn’t fully comprehend. You’ve tried to push it all aside, to erase the memory, but the ache of his absence runs deeper than you expected. Forgetting, you realize, only sharpens the memory, bringing it back with an intensity that leaves you torn between longing and pain. Every attempt to move on is met with flashes of that night, where your body remembered even when your mind resisted. The confusion wraps itself around you, a constant reminder of the vulnerability he exposed in you. You want to let it go, to find peace in his departure, but the harder you try to forget, the more vividly it returns. Remembering, it seems, is a cruel paradox—you cannot forget without confronting everything that you wish you could erase.

Tags&warnings: Jungkookxfemreader, fluff and a bit of smut if you would call it that?!?? Jungkook is obsessed with reader, a bit delusional. Flashbacks, descriptions of penetration. MDNI!!!

Word count: 2k+

Note: took me forever to post this, my bad lol I was procrastinating. Doesn’t have that much smut because idk I’m genuinely tired LOOL? I’m more for fluff nowadays.

Comment to be added to tag list

Tag list: @rutukn

The God who answers after dark ☆ series master list: Here ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You found yourself waiting for the darkness.

Unsure of which one.

The one that lulls you towards a dreamfell night. Where you feel the most comfortable as the stars and moon shine through your window. Where you feel as if it’s just you, the world so still, so silent.

Or the one that races through your mind like water down/through a stream. That reminds you of the night itself. Everywhere you went he was there. You could feel him all around you just like the night you shared together.

He was in the air embracing you

He was the moon constantly changing, revealing different phases of himself with every passing day. He was the odd comfort you felt when you were out amongst the dark sky.

He was the darkness

You missed both.

Falling asleep before the night even came. And too stubborn to call out his name.

A name that you gave him once when you were younger, that he held onto years past that.

The night was as warm as his touch on you that night. The wind gentle like his hold on you. The breeze caressing your skin like how he did, so effortlessly, it felt right.

You’d never admit you was waiting for a particular presence, as much as you loved the night itself , you’ve grown accustomed to something more greater than that.

And even though you could still talk to the wind and the trees like you used to when you were young, it’s not the same as hearing his alluring voice sink into you.

You waited for him to come. Even though you were avoiding him, you hoped he wasn’t avoiding you.

You wonder if he never came because you never called for him. Or maybe because you’re just another human in his little game.

So you laid there reminiscing. Other times trying to forget. And even trying to keep those memories forever, as you wrote them in your diary.

And when day came you missed his presence, even though he still lingered around. The sun kissing your skin like how his soft lips once did.

You were angry because everything reminded you of him. You couldn’t escape him even if you tried.

So you tried to forget about that night. About him. You decided to forget it and only remember what life was like before.

But what was life like before?

He’s been around for most of it.

You aimed to distract yourself with any possible thing.

But how could you when you can still feel his touch lingering on your skin. Like a stubborn burn that stings and leaves a faint scar.

Before how he made you feel. Before you knew what a man’s touch felt like, what his touch felt like. Having him on you, all around you, inside you.

But he’s not a man…

He’s a thing, something so much greater than what you’ve imagined him to be. And that’s what you try to remind yourself, despite you trying to forget him as a whole.

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It was day again.

You’ve forgotten what night feels like. What it looks like. You miss watching the stars decorate the dark sky. You miss hearing the creatures of the night come out. You miss him… and you miss the quietness the night brought.

The quietness you wish you heard right now as you walk across the busy campus.

Your thoughts run wild, familiar and unfamiliar faces cross your path as you try to reach your destination.

You’re sure you’re loosing it when you feel a familiar presence walk beside you, and feel the familiar chill run down your spine when he says, “Out of all the humans I’ve come across, I always manage to find myself drawn back to you”

You look beside you, once a space of nothing but air now filled with none other than himself.

You’ve been avoiding him as much as you can since the last time you both saw each other. Since you last let him see you in a more vulnerable light.

You didn’t know how to deal with the situation, so you did what you did best and that was avoid.

“You’re not drawn back to me, you simply chose to be here. You can be anywhere in the world and you choose to be on a campus with me” you mutter bitterly.

“Your tone is distasteful y/n. Nothing like how sweet you sounded when you were calling for me”

You pause, stopping in your tracks when you catch the smirk on his face.

“We said we won’t speak about it”

“You said my love. I only make deals, not promises”

Not wanting to feed in to whatever he’s doing, you continue to walk. Not caring if he follows you or not. Still, you ignore the way you feel when you notice him swiftly make his way back beside you.

Time passes.

Just the sound of endless chatter between the people making their daily route, and the faint sound of cars passing by lingers between you two.

It’s nice. It’s not awkward like you had imagined. Tense yes, but when was there ever not tension between you two? It was just right. Like it had been before you both crossed that deadly line. The line you both saw but had never spoke about. The line you had always been curious about, whether you should cross it or not, or let it be just a mere thought you had that you tried to shove to the back of your mind, but would always make itself known whenever you laid in bed thinking of how it must feel to be touched.

“Do you know you’re the only person that’s ever given me a name?”

You peer at him, waiting for him to continue. Your eyes curious as you study the side of his face, wondering why he decided to say that.

His face carved and structured by none other than yourself, yet you always seem so surprised whenever you see him. So in awe at how one’s mind can create such a beautiful thing.

He continues, “I told you before that we don’t get given names, our only identity is the thing we are, the thing we own. For me it’s darkness. I used to love it, it held so much power. It made me feel like I was worth something. Not until you decided to call me-“

“Kook” you say. The name you gave him as a child feeling foreign on your lips. You hadn’t called him that in a long time, deciding to leave that name in the past.

“Kookie” he corrects.

“Hm, well I think you’ve grown out of that now” your tone holds the same bitterness as you continue walking the route to your class.

“I was waiting for you to call on me” his words linger in the air like the aroma of a freshly cooked dinner - warm, inviting, and comforting, making you feel instantly at home .

You’re not sure if you sense a hint of vulnerability hidden within his words. His words seeming more cautious as he continues, “I dont see you staying up anymore. You used to be perched by your bedroom window watching the sky, diary in your hand. Why not now?”

You ignore him choosing not to give him the satisfaction of hearing the truth.

You’ll ever admit that your favourite time of the day is night. That you feel less lonely during that time, less worried and less afraid. You’ll never admit that you look forward to a certain presence that accompanies you during that time.

You’ll never.

Even if he may already know, he’s a god after all.

“Why didn’t you call for me?” His hand catches yours, pulling you to a stop. His eyes are dark, waiting for you to answer him. They mimic the stars. It’s like you’re looking into a galaxy, his eyes holding so many unanswered questions, so many wishes and dreams. You feel yourself falling, falling in everything that is him.

Everything around you turns into night. You feel like you’re stepping on clouds as you get caught up in this little world. Just you and him.

“Why didn’t you call for me?” He asks again and you know it kills him to do that. Pride being one of his main traits.

There’s no escaping this. He’s trapped you.

There was only one other time he’s done this, created a space just for you and him, it’s when you were younger, he took your hand and brought you to this same place, the darkness. It was a way for you to escape your life for a while. He did it without a thought after seeing you cry to him, the hurt in you voice doing something to him that he’s never experienced before. That he’s sure only humans feel.

And now you’re here again, his whole presence surrounding you as his question lingers in the dark.

“Why did you leave?” You retort.

The corner of his mouth twitches, it’s typical of you to brush off his questions.

“That’s who I am. That’s what I do. I come and go. I’m not a constant, I obscure”.

You let his words sit with you, suffocate you, until they seep into your thoughts, twisting your perception, weighing you down with a heaviness you can’t shake.

You don’t blink when you say, “I didn’t call for you because just like you said, You come and go, you obscure. I needed clarity, not shadows” your voice comes out fainter than you had hoped.

You force yourself to look him in the eyes, the deep abyss of what you found yourself always looking forward to see. You didn’t think it was possible for them to darken, but they do, as well as everything around you.

“And yet you still seek those shadows. I know you look for me whenever you see them” his hand delicately brushes against your cheekbone, slowly making its way to caress your jaw. “My dear y/n, you fail to realise sometimes clarity isn’t always what you need. It’s the shadows that show you what’s truly there, hidden beneath the light.”

With his touch still on you, he leans in and whispers, “you seem to have forgotten, let me remind you”

And just like that memories of any intimate moment you both shared flashes around you, flooding your mind, surrounding you in a whirlwind of forgotten warmth. But was it really forgotten?

As the memories flood in, suddenly you're enveloped in the darkness of your room. The air between you crackles with unspoken longing. The world outside ceasing to exist as your eyes meet for a moment.

You blink as another memory hits. You reaching out fingers trailing lightly along the curve of his jaw, feeling the coolness of his skin under your touch. The darkness around you stills as his breath catches while he gently cups your face, his thumb brushes against your cheek with a tenderness that speaks volumes. The space between you two tightens, your breaths mingling as his lips brush yours, forming into a kiss that is soft and reassuring, filled with a promise of deeper want, need.

“Do you remember my love?”

How could you forget? The way your kisses deepened as you pulled him closer to you with your fingers threaded through his hair. The way your pussy would throb just from his mere presence alone. The way his fingers worked on your body, playing you like one of his instruments you know he loves.

He knew your body so well, even when you were still trying to figure it out yourself.

A flashback runs through your mind every few seconds. Filled with images and feelings of what was and what could have been.

His cock slowly fills you, stretching you, every inch making you feel how tightly your body grips him. He's the only one who's ever had you like this, the only one to feel your warmth, to claim every inch of you. You were so wet and ready. Your moans mix with his, rising together in a rhythm, a breathless symphony that fills the space between you. Each thrust draws out another note, a melody of shared pleasure, building in intensity as your bodies move in perfect harmony.

His scent surrounds you, rich and earthy, intoxicating in its rawness. He's everywhere— inside you, around you, filling every inch of your senses. His touch is light, almost ghostly, yet it leaves a trail of heat in its wake, making your skin tingle with anticipation. It's as if even the air between you hums with his presence, leaving you craving more.

You shiver, not from the cold but from the intensity of his gaze as his eyes roamed over you, drinking you in. His fingers brushing along your exposed skin. You remember the way your breath hitched when his mouth followed, hot and wet against your skin, his tongue flicking over your nipple in a way that made your back arch, pushing you closer to him.

His other hand, still on your waist, gripped you tighter, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you.

The feel of his cool, bare skin against yours was intoxicating, sending a wave of chills coursing through your body. Each slow, agonizing stroke made your breath hitch, your pulse quicken. Every touch, every movement, was a reminder of how deeply he held you captive-body, mind, and soul. His hands explored with deliberate slowness, as if he had all the time in the world, drawing out every sensation, every shiver. You could feel the weight of each moment, the way it lingered between you, an unspoken intensity building with each soft caress, until nothing else existed but the raw, electric connection.

Everything comes to a stop and you find your self short of breath, just like you were that night.

Your mind is a whirlwind, unable to distinguish between what's real and what's imagined. Between what you’ve lived and what you ache to relive. He’s left you tangled in confusion, unraveling every certainty you once had. He hasn’t just unsettled you—he’s undone you entirely. He’s confused you, he’s ruined you.

When you escape the chaos of your mind, seeking the comfort of his familiar eyes, you're pulled back to that night you shared—only to be left alone once more.

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The God who answers after dark ☆

- mimi ☆

[peterparkersnose]

Rough Day

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 1k (short but sweet)

warnings: death (not prominent character death), child abandonment, descriptions of medical terminology, not angst but reader is comforted by joel, defined relationship with reader x joel

a/n i cannot wait for the last of us, im writing so much joel content to feed you babes in late december/early january (and after jan 15 when the show airs) title is not to be compared to the iconic din djarin fanfiction, it just fit too perfectly to pass up and make a possible reference (update 01/16/23 first episode was brilliant. only word i can use to describe that masterpiece)

summary Y/N comes home after a hard day of working at med bay and Joel comforts her

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read time: 3 mins 23 seconds

The walk home seemed longer tonight. Maybe it was because of the sheer exhaustion from not sleeping in almost days, or maybe it was just from the horrible day you had.

The vision of the woman with the fresh bite on her leg plagued your mind.

Her sobbing baby next to her made matters even worse.

The tourniquet didn’t work. The infection spread too fast. The woman didn’t even know she was bitten for days. How could you not notice an open wound on your leg?

How could Tommy had let someone into the compound who was clearly not well?

You shook your head as you fumbled through your keys to get the right one. It was silent. The crickets were even gone, nothing else moved except the flickering light on your porch.

Joel had to fix that one of these days.

The old door creaked open. The only light left on was the lamp Joel would leave on for you when nights like this would occur.

What time was it now- after 11? He would most definitely be asleep.

You kicked your boots to their place and set down your bag. Angry with the state of your scrubs, you began peeling your coat off and leaving it on the floor.

The stairs creaked slightly as you made your way up them. You pulled at your socks that clung to your feet. The bedroom door was left slightly ajar, you could see the lamp light peering through the crack.

Pushing the door slightly open, you found Joel propped up in bed with a book.

“Your still awake?” you asked, immediately taking the top of your scrubs off.

“You know I can’t fall asleep without you,” he said, a harmless dig at your absence lately.

You genuinely felt bad for being gone. It wasn’t your intention to work a double at the hospital wing and then have 3 people come in with all very serious problems.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, opening your drawer and searching for a comfy shirt.

Joel raised his brows in concern. Your tone was off. “Everything alright?” he asked, folding the corner of his page and slowly placing the book next to him.

Ignoring the question that would most definitely bring tears to your eyes if you answered, you changed into some of Joel’s old flannel pants that were two sizes too big.

You turned to the mirror in your bathroom, staring blankly at your toothbrush.

“Y/N?” he asked, the bed creaking as he sat on the edge. “Please don’t,” you whispered from the bathroom, finding the courage to turn on the water to brush your teeth.

Looking up from spitting out your toothpaste, you found him standing adjacent of you with a worried look on his face. Your eyes looked tired and he knew you had an awful day. Joel knew there was definitely a story behind that face causing your mood.

The stress of the day always seemed to fizzle out when you were around him.

“Come here,” he says, accepting your embrace. The tiny sniffles you gave broke his heart. He held you close to his chest. One hand rested on your head, another arm wrapped around your back.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen. She could have lived,” you choked out. “Mhm, I know baby. Let it out.” he sighed.

Joel didn’t have to know the story to understand what was happening. He felt the energy coming off of you. It was bad.

“Everything will be okay.” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get to bed now, hm? We both could use some sleep.” he said, placing his hand on your waist and walking with you towards the bed.

You anxiously sat at the edge of your bed as Joel turned off the hallway lights. He hated the look on your face when he returned. Zoned out, you stared at the tiny photo on the dresser of him and Sarah. His large body broke your trance, engulfing you in another hug. “Everything’s going to be alright. Stop lookin’ so pitiful,”

Your hands grabbed his hips and drew him closer. The scent of pine filled your nose. He had been on patrol earlier that day you assumed. His hand carefully rested on your head, stroking your hair. Your forehead sat against his stomach. Joel’s stomach gargled, causing you to let out a brief laugh.

“Get in,” he said playfully, tipping your shoulder back as you fell into bed.

“Gassy,” you whispered, bringing your eyes up to match his. He was standing over you, your knees in between his legs.

“What did you say now?” he asked, smirk on his face. His large frame fell over yours. You yelped as he caught himself with his forearms next to your body.

“Watch it,” he whispered in your ear. He showered your face in kisses as you squirmed. Using his body as a catapult, you forced yourself out under him. Finally free.

You scooted over to your side of the bed and curled into the smallest ball you could. Joel knew exactly what you wanted.

He pulled up the sheet quickly with a snap, and let it fall over you slowly. He knew you loved this.

“Pillows good?” he asked. You nodded, a small smile appearing on your face. “You need anything else while I’m up?”

“No. But thank you.”

He climbed slowly in next to you. Joel clicked off the lamp and moved in right next to you. It was almost as your body was fit to compliment his. You two matched perfectly.

“We can talk about it in the mornin’ if you’d like.” he offered. He felt your head nod against his chest.

“Goodnight darlin’,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. “I’m sorry today didn’t go well. Tomorrow will be good, I’ll make sure of it. We can make a day of it,”

A sigh of relief came from you. He always made things better. He was right. Tomorrow would be a better day.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @jmillerswife

[delzinrowe]

Aftermath - Kento Nanami

WORD COUNT: ~4.2K WARNINGS: Some minor & major alterations to Shibuya Arc! No Culling Games in this fic. Otherwise no serious warnings. F!Reader SUMMARY: Three days after the Shibuya Incident in the midst of the aftermath Y/N is trying to sort out her emotions and deal with what happened. A/N: Feedback is always appreciated! If you want to be tagged in upcoming fics/drabbles, please let me know!!! Thank you, and enjoy <3 Considering there are alterations to Shibuya: PLEASE, keep your replies/comments spoiler free, to ensure the unaltered enjoyment of other readers. Thank you!

Curses had claimed Shibuya. Half the district was gone, reduced to ashes and debris. Thousands of human lives were eradicated, leaving nothing but pain and emptiness in the hearts of those who miraculously survived the tragedy.

The remaining sorcerers tried their best to evacuate those who lived too close to the newly created wastelands of Tokyo. There was no telling how long it would take to get rid of all the curses, if that was even possible. Therefore saving and protecting all non-sorcerers had priority.

Within record time Y/N had scouted through the rackages in search of any survivors and brought them to Shoko for treatment. It was a tiring task, not only physically but mentally. Seeing the devastating destruction caused by Sukuna, Kenjaku and the countless curses truly took a toll on everyone.

All it took was a few hours to save all the survivors. But this small win was overshadowed by the carnage left behind. Every sorcerer had returned to the Tokyo Jujutsu High grounds, even the ones from Kyoto decided to stay. Considering the immediate threat posed by the countless curses roaming the streets it was the most logical decision for everyone to stay and aid the Tokyo sorcerers.

Many of the sorcerers made it their daily mission to eradicate as many curses as they possibly could, it was their way of dealing with the losses. Among those was Y/N. After the incident she focused all her attention on the vile creatures, spending every minute on the battlefield. As one of the teachers at Jujutsu High she had always made it her priority to keep everyone safe. If going on a rampage and killing curses left and right was the only way for her to ensure no one else would be hurt, so be it.

Just after killing the last of the evil spirits in front of her she fell to her knees. The exhaustion of the past few days took over her body, but she fought against it.

“You can’t keep going like this, Y/N.” Nanami Kento’s voice sounded from a bit further away, as his feet slowly carried him closer to her kneeling form. The blonde sorcerer seemed exhausted as well, carrying scars and injuries from the massacre days ago.

“Sure I can. I have to.” She responded, but her words didn’t hold as much strength as she had intended. And when she stood up she realised how much her body trembled.

“When was the last time you slept?” He inquired with this slightly disappointing tone that made her feel aggravated all too quickly.

“For your information I slept last night.” By now he was standing before her, watching with eagle eyes as she brushed the dirt off her clothes.

“How many hours?” His question earned him an eye-roll in response. Why did he feel the need to act like this right now when he knew the current situation better than anyone.

She refrained from answering, knowing fully well that in her agitated state she might say something spiteful or mean that she’d regret later on.

“You cannot keep this up.” His voice now held a more stern tone as he tried desperately to get through to her. However, the more he tried to reason with her the more she resisted.

“I’m not a child, Kento, I can take care of myself. Thank you.” She had never raised her voice at him like this before, but his nagging really was not what she needed right now. While she knew that it came from a good place, it fell on deaf ears. She had lost too many people, had watched close friends be slaughtered like pigs in front of her.

“Obviously you can’t!” He yelled back at her when she had already turned on her heel.

“You’re a teacher, don’t you think you should be a role model to your students?” Y/N couldn’t see it but she knew that he wore a pleading expression on his face, simply with the way his voice sounded almost desperate to get through to her.

“I am!” Was all she shouted back at him before walking further away, out of his field of vision. She had to get away from him right now even if she knew that he only meant well.

Didn’t he understand that she needed this? That she needed to exorcize as many curses as she could? That she needed to make these streets safer for everyone?

Nanami knew her better than anyone. And he knew that she needed this, but not ‘to make the streets safer’. Not because Exorcizing curses was the simple job of a sorcerer.

No. Y/N needed this for herself more than anything.

Once she had walked further away, when she was out of earshot, she once more collapsed, physically and mentally. She dropped to her knees, not caring that the tiny stones on the ground would leave marks on her knees even through her pants, and balled her hands into fists. She made no attempts in stopping the tears that started filling her eyes, eventually rolling down her cheeks and dropping onto the ruined ground, which once was a bustling street filled with life.

Minutes passed in which Y/N cried without a care in the word if anyone saw her. The overwhelming guilt she felt caused her chest to tighten and burn as if it was on fire.

“Survivor’s Guilt”, is what Shoko had called it when she patched up Y/N’s injuries. “It’s the belief that you did something wrong by surviving when others didn’t.”, she explained it further. Y/N knew that it wasn’t rational to feel like this, but what did that help when she was convinced on a deeply emotional level that by surviving she truly did do something wrong.

“It’s not fair. So many talented and skilled people died, but I survived. Why? It’s just not fair…” She had argumented, but Shoko was quick to smack the back of her head, effectively capturing her full attention. The healer had made it clear to her that she didn’t survive for nothing, that people still needed her. It was enough to give Y/N at least some mental strength, but as soon as she had left Shoko’s infirmary she fell into the habit of not eating, not sleeping and using all her time to hunt down every cursed spirit she could find.

Y/N wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it couldn’t have been more than half an hour, considering the sun was pretty much still at the same spot in the sky. She frankly didn’t care all too much about it either way.

After wiping lazily over her face she finally stood up, skillfully ignoring that her knees felt like dough and her legs trembled. It simply did not matter, she felt as if nothing mattered. At the same time everything mattered.

By now she deeply regretted snapping at Nanami, he was the least person to deserve that. He had always been some sort of role model to Y/N. His moral code in keeping children safe and not letting the youth experience any misery greatly inspired her to become a teacher at Jujutsu High.

She decided to apologise when she saw him next. He’d understand her, she was sure of it. For now she just wanted to get out of here. Her strength was decreasing due to lack of sleep and nutrition. As skilled and talented as she was, she wasn’t arrogant enough to believe she could take on multiple high grade curses in her current status.

Her walk back to the next operating public transportation wasn’t short, giving her plenty of time to think of the exact words she wanted to tell Nanami during her apology and how she’d explain herself. Even though she knew that his maturity wouldn’t expect her to explain anything. He surely knew how she felt. She guessed that he was ridden with the same form of guilt that plagued her mind and heart.

Y/N paid it no mind to the unamused glares and frowns of disapproval she received from strangers on the train. She knew that the blood stains and tears in her clothes were bound to attract the attention of non-sorcerers. Sometimes she’d even jump at the chance to horrify some particularly judgmental bystanders.

“Don’t worry, it’s not my blood.” She’d muse in an assuring tone of voice while showing a smile that seemed far too friendly. Every time, without exception, it would earn a wide-eyed stare.

However, today she was not in the mood to provoke anyone. She settled for mindlessly watching the passing landscape, it was all a blur to her unfocused eyes. Only when the mechanical voice announced the next stop was she ripped out of her thoughts. Due to a quick message she had sent when she stepped into the wagon she was greeted with Ijichi’s soft smile.

The tone between the two had always been kind and casual, almost friendly, which was something Y/N deeply appreciated. Other assistants sometimes didn’t dare to pursue a friendship with sorcerers, especially higher grades. They claimed it was due to professionalism, but the truth was that the assistants didn’t want to get attached to someone who’d end up dying well before their time.

Ijichi, in his gentlemanly behaviour, held open the car door for Y/N. Behind his nervous smile was a wave of worry when he glanced at the countless cuts and bruises that littered her body. The dried up blood as well as the torn clothes only added to his inner turmoil. Yet, every time he brought up his concerns for her wellbeing she shot him down with a lazy attempt at reassurance. It never worked.

“Has Yuji-kun already talked to you?” He asked with an almost cautious tone after he slipped into the driver’s seat and ignited the engine. Through the rear view mirror he could see how she furrowed her brows in confusion. It was enough of an answer for him.

“He mentioned that he was looking for you.” Ijichi explained further but Y/N only shook her head.

“I’ll find him when I’m at Jujutsu Tech. Thanks for telling me.”

After these words the remainder of the drive was spent in silence. It wasn’t unusual for rides with assistants to be quiet. Most trips with Ijichi however, were spent chatting about missions and the current state of affairs. 

This time the assistant kept quiet. Perhaps because he wasn’t fully well yet either. Shoko had only allowed him to operate the car he was currently driving. Everything else was strictly off limits to prevent him from overworking. A trait shared by seemingly everyone and their mother in the sorcerer society.

The two of them reached the school grounds quickly and while absent-mindedly muttering a “Thank you.” Y/N stepped out of the car, heading straight towards Shoko’s infirmary to get her wounds treated.

The eerie silence in her mind, surrounded by the noise of nature in the form of birds chirping and leaves rustling, were all that filled the air, but not for long. Before she even made it halfway to her destination she was suddenly stopped by a voice yelling her name from a bit further away. It was a voice she had come to know well.

“What’s up, Yuji?” She asked as she turned towards him. The boy stopped a few feet away, despite seemingly running he was barely out of breath.

“Y/L/N-Sensei, you’re not forgetting about later right?” The pink haired boy almost seemed timid and hesitant but Y/N didn’t read into it. There was no reason for something like that at a time like this.

“About the little get-together later? I won’t forget, Yuji.” She had to force a little smile onto her lips as she reassured him. It seemed to be all the young student wanted to talk about as he quickly nodded and shot her a smile, that seemed far too out of place for the mindset she surrounded herself with at the moment, before he turned around and disappeared into the direction he came from.

Y/N didn’t like that Gojo was throwing a get-together at a time like this, just days after a devastating tragedy that caused pain and loss to so many people. Yet, another part of her could understand it somehow. Even though he acted like an idiot at times, she knew his heart was at the right place. She figured quickly that he wanted to bring them all together to strengthen the bond of the remaining sorcerers, ultimately making it easier to rely on each other. Perchance he even had a plan to deal with the curses, and most of all, the curse user formerly known as Geto Suguru.

With all this in her mind she finally made her way to Shoko. The breeze, that was far too warm for this time of the year, went by her without any recognition. All she could do was try not to get lost in her thoughts, her planned apology to Nanami still lingering in the back of her mind.

“You’re looking great again…” Shoko’s voice was filled to the brim with sarcasm.

“Thanks, always a pleasure to see you.” Y/N attempted to respond with the same level of mockery as she rolled her eyes, but her tone sounded more annoyed than anything else.

“Is that why you’re making it a habit to visit every day with new injuries? Y/N, you can’t keep doing that.” It was uncommon for the (now again) heavy smoker to show this level of concern for others. She was well aware that her fellow sorcerers could handle themselves well.

“Damn, I heard that before.” This time Y/N’s words were dripping with sarcasm. There was no ill-will in her voice, but Shoko immediately realised that she had more luck getting through a wall than her patient’s thick skull. With a sigh she simply decided to drop the subject.

Only mere minutes later all of Y/N’s injuries were healed, or at least taken care of and she left Shoko’s infirmary after voicing her gratitude.

“Should I pick you up later, or..?” Y/N didn’t answer the question that was yelled after. She heard it, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it. Why would it matter if Shoko picked her up for the stupid get-together? It came as a surprise that Shoko even cared about one of Gojo’s plans.

The sky had cleared up within the past minutes, allowing the sun to shine down on the scenery and dipping the landscape in a plethora of orange hues. However, the colour spectacle went unnoticed by Y/N, whose feet carried her to her assigned room. Out of courtesy, or rather practicality, the higher-ups had decided to offer the empty dormitories to the remaining few sorcerers. Considering the school was protected by barriers, this served as a means to keep them safe more so than goodwill.

Time passed by quickly, or maybe it didn’t, but Y/N was simply too caught up in her own thoughts. She could feel herself being dragged down once more, spiralling into the depths of her sorrow. She thought that maybe as soon as she reached the room the thoughts would dissipate, but nothing of that sort happened.

Seemingly like a zombie trapped in her own mind she undressed herself, showered, dried herself off and changed into a set of clean clothes. She settled for the only black dress she wore. Taking into account the circumstances it felt fitting to wear black, even if Gojo would possibly find a way to bring colour into everything.

Maybe this get-together was exactly what everyone needed right now. Maybe this was a chance to reconnect and move on. Maybe, just maybe, Gojo’s idea wasn’t too bad.

After checking the clock on her phone for the nth time Y/N to get going. Arriving early was always fashionable, wasn’t it? Besides, she knew that Nanami, as much as he disliked these gatherings, would most probably be there early as well. She’d simply take the time to talk to him and apologise. This way she had a chance of enjoying the rest of the late afternoon, possibly even with Nanami next to her.

And wouldn’t you know it, just like she had predicted, the blonde sorcerer stood outside the venue, glancing at the watch on his wrist. To no one’s surprise he wore the same white suit as always. He likely owned it multiple times to make dressing up in the morning easier, a simple fact she had never cared to think about before. Now it almost seemed hilarious to her. Nonetheless there was a frown on her lips. Knowing that she had to act like a responsible grown up and apologise for her earlier outburst left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Kento! Hey.” She greeted him almost hesitantly, if he noticed the nervousness in her voice he didn’t show it. He simply greeted her back while turning towards her.

“Can I talk to you about earlier this morning?” What a stupid way to have phrased it. Of course she could, she evidently had the ability to do so. Internally she scolded herself instantly over her choice of words.

“If you want to apologise, there’s no need for it, Y/N.” Here he went again, being the ever considerate and thoughtful person she knew him as. The expression on his face was almost soft, something he only showed around a small number of people, which she considered herself lucky to be a part of.

Before she even had the chance to respond to him he spoke up once more, prompted by the uncertainty shown on her features.

“I’m serious. It’s a difficult time for everyone, we’re all on edge. It’s alright.” Nanami uttered with a tone so full of understanding that it almost blew her away. Then again, despite him being the youngest of the adult sorcerers, he had always been the most mature one and the voice of reason.

For a few short minutes a comfortable silence was shared between the two, until Y/N glanced over his white suit and remembered her train of thought from before.

“You decided to keep wearing that same white suit? Don’t you have anything different to wear?” Y/N’s almost playful glance revealed the nature of her words, there was no malice or ill-intent. She prided herself on being the only one who could get him to engage in conversations in a light-hearted manner.

“Why? Don’t you think it looks handsome?” Nanami’s response came quickly, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Oh, it definitely does.” She replied back, unable to help herself from chuckling once more as she saw the slight smile forming on his lips. At this very moment it almost felt like nothing bad had ever happened.

“Y/N, there is one thing you have to do for me.” Nanami spoke up once again. Y/N didn’t pay too much attention to his somewhat more seriously sounding tone, that was simply his nature.

“You can't keep me from getting absolutely shitfaced drunk.” If this get-together was anything like Gojo’s previous festivities there would be an unlimited amount of alcohol provided. Even if the host of these gatherings never drank an ounce of it himself.

When Nanami didn’t respond or smile at her quick remark she straightened her posture and looked at him expectantly.

“You have to forgive yourself for everything that went down the other day.” He continued then, judging by his tone it was clear as day what exactly he was referring to.

Without any sort of warning a wave of guilt washed over Y/N. Her chest tightened at the reminder of how many lives were lost, how many people she couldn’t save. The destruction was terrible. But it wasn’t the source of her pain. Involuntarily her mind wandered to the corpses which had littered the grounds of the Shibuya station. Her lips started to quiver but she was determined not to give in to the tears. No other word was needed, no clarification or elaboration. She knew what he meant.

Nanami didn’t rush her in her response, instead he gave her all the time she needed by waiting patiently. Something she was thankful for, even if he was the only reason she needed time in the first place.

Y/N hardly noticed when the index finger of her right hand started to scrape at her thumb’s cuticle. Her head was turned away, gaze averted from him. A part of her knew that she had to forgive herself. In fact, she knew that there wasn’t anything to forgive herself for since she had done everything in her powers to save as many people as she could. She had done enough. But her heart did not agree with her head. In her heart she had failed the people of Tokyo. She had failed her fellow sorcerers. She had failed herself.

“You can be really annoying sometimes.” She responded after what seemed like forever, allowing a deep sigh to leave her lungs. ‘Mostly when you’re the voice of reason’, she added in her thoughts bitterly while turning her gaze back to him.

“Yes. Maybe.” His words of agreement were simultaneously out of place and so very typical for him, at least when he was with her. It was enough for her to crack an unwanted smile.

She breathed in deeply, once, twice, and another time.

“Okay.” She finally answered his previous request. Both of them knew that Y/N needed more time to actually forgive herself, but it was a step in the right direction. It was an unspoken promise that she’d attempt to do this for him.

Nanami only responded with a proud nod, barely mouthing the word “Good.”

The quick change in atmosphere had almost caused her heart to beat irregularly. A silence hung over them, but this time it was heavier than before.

Y/N needed to shift the mood again, she needed to uplift not only his spirit, but also her own. She knew that otherwise she’d be glum and gloomy during Gojo’s get-together. There had been too much tragedy within a short time, a killjoy was definitely not what any of the sorcerers needed.

“Since you’re forced to attend this get-together, when are you gonna start complaining?” She chuckled, a little forced anyways, as she asked the blonde sorcerer.

“Complaining about what?” It was Shoko’s voice that sounded from behind Y/N, making her turn around and face the healer with a smile. Although Shoko was never full of energy and happiness, she seemed even more dispirited than ever.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “You know, about Gojo’s obnoxious attitude, about our tone deaf singing when we get drunk, about music that’s way too loud. The whole thing, really.” It seemed obvious to her that Nanami wouldn’t enjoy any of these things.

Shoko’s brows furrowed, her head tilted ever so lightly and her lips pursed.

“Where do you think we are?” She asked Y/N. A question like this would usually have resulted in the female sorcerer chuckling and replying in an amused tone. However, something about Shoko’s tone made her hesitate.

Y/N turned around towards Nanami once more, ready to smile at him.

Except, he wasn’t there anymore.

In a split second Y/N’s entire world came crashing down on her as the realisation set in that he had never been there in the first place. Images of her fights in Shibuya flashed before her eyes. Imagines consisting of sorcerers dying in front of her because she had been too slow.

A ringing set in her ears, intensifying with each memory that surfaced. The sound became stronger when she remembered finding Nanami again amidst the chaos and rubble of the destroyed Tokyo district. She had watched him fight, she had yelled after him, she had attempted to reach him and aid him.

Y/N swallowed hard, slowly turning towards Shoko again. Her chest tightened enough to leave her breathless. With a bitter smile on her face she lowered her gaze. Reluctantly she forced herself to walk, taking one painful step at a time towards the row of outdoor chairs that were neatly set up in front of the closed casket.

She had saved lives and exorcised many curses in Shibuya. She helped search for survivors and consoled the ones that were left behind after the losses.

Alas, the only thing she would forever remember about that night was how she witnessed Nanami dying right in front of her, when she had been too slow to save him.

Without any form of communication she sat down on one of the chairs in the first row, right in front of Nanami’s picture.

She was soon joined by Shoko who sat down next to her, placing a warm hand on her thigh and rubbing it assuringly. The gesture went unnoticed by Y/N, whose eyes were focused on all the little details she could make out on the picture atop the casket. Details that blurred more and more when her eyes filled with tears upon realising that it was all an illusion.

The arguments, the smiles, the quick light-hearted banter she shared with the blonde man during these last few days. It was nothing more than a beautiful hallucination.

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)

Chapter 9

The journey north begins. They might be out of danger for now, but will things run smoothly?

I finished this chapter on the aeroplane on the way on holiday, and I was itching the whole time to post it once I was back!!

Rating: M Content: Dew has more issues with self-hatred, none of the ghouls know how to communicate effectively Words: 5143

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Hi tag gang! As always, lmk if you want in or out! @everybodyshusband @rainsbasspick @revengeghoulette

Read below, or on AO3!

Dew awoke to find a water ghoul plastered along his side. Rain was still cold, but his normal cold rather than the dangerously icy temperature he had been the night before. Dew extricated himself from the bear grip Rain had him pinned in, shaking his long limbs off and crawling out from under the blanket. The sun was beginning to creep above the horizon, bathing the land in a pale grey light. He found Swiss sat watching the sunrise, his eyes scanning the horizon periodically. They frequently lingered on the village in the distance, his gaze sad and wistful.

“Morning.” Dew whispered, sitting down next to him and leaning his head on his shoulder in an uncharacteristic show of affection. Swiss had been more withdrawn than usual the previous night, and Dew was worried about him. The naturally more tactile multi ghoul rested his own head on Dew’s and let out tired sigh.

“I was gonna wake you soon for the next watch,” he muttered quietly, “but you looked so comfy over there, I’m glad I didn’t have to.”

Dew growled lightly at the comment, but there was no venom behind it.

“Let Aeth sleep.” He agreed instead. The quintessence ghoul still looked dead to the world, drooling slightly in his sleep but otherwise unmoving.

“How’s Rain doing?” asked Swiss.

“He’s less cold now,” Dew replied, “but I don’t think any amount of sleep will be enough for him for a while.”

He twisted he head to look up at Swiss. There was a haunted look in his eyes, one that Dew recognised all too well.

“You saw him, down in the cells.” Dew stated. Swiss nodded, his stricken face giving away just how much it had affected him. “How are you feeling now?”

Swiss shrugged.

“Not great. Seeing him down there, especially after the guards attacked him…” he trailed off, pulling Dew closer to him and burying his nose in his tangle of platinum hair. “I was so scared.” He whispered into Dew’s hair, as though letting the words be spoken into the air could make them hurt more.

Dew hummed in understanding; the thought of Rain, quiet and sweet young ghoul he was, stuck all alone in the dark cell had haunted him all the time he’d been gone. Dew had endured hardship before, he was no stranger to suffering, but Rain had always seemed less aware of the evils in the world. He must have known pain at some point, Dew reasoned, or he would still be with his birth clan. Much like Dew himself though, Rain had always stayed relatively quiet about what brought him to run away.

“I couldn’t see anything, Dew. It was like someone had covered my eyes, everything after noon yesterday was just black.”

Dew let himself be pulled closer to Swiss, manhandled like a teddy bear – it wouldn’t be the first time that morning he reasoned, and Swiss clearly needed the comfort.

“I went to see him every day,” he shuddered, “I hated it. Even when he seemed to be getting stronger, just seeing him there but not being able to help…”

Swiss trailed off, his breathing shaky. Dew guessed he hadn’t told the others about these feelings – Swiss was never one to burden others, always putting on a brave face, but they wouldn’t have let him shoulder this alone if they had known. Dew was the only one who could begin to understand what he had seen, who could know the feeling of abject hopelessness at seeing Rain trapped by stone walls and iron bars first-hand.

“It’s alright, we’re all alright now.” Dew said, trying to be as soothing as possible and mask his discomfort. He attempted to make a joke, to deflect from their shared emotional vulnerability.

“At least you didn’t take one look at him and run for the hills, eh?”

Swiss chuckled weakly, the sound was wet and choked, and rang hollow in Dew’s ears.

“When they attacked him, it felt like was like I was the one being struck instead. After days of feeling nothing, it hurt so much.” A shiver of pain lanced through his body, making him twitch violently and squeeze Dew almost uncomfortable tight. “I was so worried we’d lost him.”

Neither of them liked to add that they were worried they still had: despite Rain being slightly more responsive by the time they went to bed and showing signs that he recognised them, he still had yet to speak a word.

“He’s a tough kid,” Dew admitted, “Satan knows I gave him enough trouble before all of this.”

“Marriage turned you soft already?” Swiss joked, mask slipping effortlessly back in place.

“Something like that.”

The pair sat in comfortable silence a little longer. Swiss might have been free with his affections, reflected Dew as he remained encircled in his strong arms, but he was more like him with his vulnerabilities.

“I can see why you left like you did.” Swiss said finally. “If I’d had any idea how to get Rain out, I’d have flown there as soon as possible too, explanations be damned.”

“It was never guaranteed,” Dew pointed out, “just in the moment it seemed like asking for help was the only idea, and there was no time to explain.”

“We’d never have let you go.” Swiss told him bluntly. “We’d have insisted we could get Rain out ourselves, and neither of us need my foresight to know how that would have turned out.”

Dew nodded grimly.

Around them, the birds began to wake up and sing their dawn chorus. On cue, Swiss yawned widely, his jaw audibly popping.

“You should get a bit more sleep,” suggested Dew with a sigh of his own, “we’ve got a long trip coming up. I promise I won’t leave again, you can trust me despite what Mountain seems to think.”

“I know.” Swiss said simply as he stood up and stretched out his legs. “Don’t take his words to heart, okay? He’s just a bit frustrated that he couldn’t take care of Rain alone.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, you know how he is, always thinking he’s the pack leader as the oldest and strongest.” Swiss’s tone implied that he did not fully agree but would happily humour his ego, if asked. “Mount knows what you did was best for the pack, just give him some time to sort out his bruised pride.”

Dew shrugged, but dropped the subject.

Soon after Swiss had wriggled back under his blanket, Dew could hear his light snores drifting towards him. He sat for a few hours more, loath to wake his exhausted pack. With the early sunrise of long summer days, they could rest a while longer before they would risk bumping into anyone from the village on the road.

As the sky grew lighter, he sat and contemplated how his life had changed over the last few days. He was married now for starters. Even though he didn’t believe in any of the humans’ customs, let alone in their God, he still believed in the sanctity of a promise made in front of his pack. He’d sworn in front of all of them that he would protect Rain, so protect Rain he must. For now, that meant taking him to the Abbey and it host of experienced quintessence ghouls, but damn, that journey was going to be frustrating. Dragging his pack of exhausted ghouls who were all prone to bickering northward was going to fray some nerves.

Part of him was anxious about their destination, too. Not only for their reaction to the Abbey and its inhabitants, he realised, but for the ghoulettes’ reaction to his pack. He wanted them to think he had made a good choice with his life, to be proud of him. Dew supposed this was what it felt like bringing home a potential mate to meet your family: the potential of acceptance, of joyfully blending families, but mixed with the fear of disapproval and rejection. He wouldn’t know anything of that relationship dynamic; his mother had made it quite clear to him how hated his father had been by everyone except for her. Instead of bringing home a mate however, Dew was bringing a brand new husband and three additional ghouls who were varying degrees of excited for the meeting themselves. He hoped they would make a good impression.

His thoughts drifted to Rain; to the catalyst of this whole situation. Rain had been the baby of the pack ever since he arrived, even though he was only slightly younger than Dew himself. The difference between them lay in how Dew prided himself in acting more world-wise than he really was, whereas Rain always seemed to be stuck in the past. Maybe neither one of them had the right attitude, reflected Dew. His insistence on self-reliance had led him to bully Rain into taking on tasks he wasn’t capable of, whereas Rain’s dependence on others had made him desperate to prove himself. Providing they got out of this, they’d both have learned a hard lesson.

Who was he kidding, thought Dew. He could try and blame Rain all he wanted, but he felt sure that he should shoulder most of the blame. If only he’d been more supportive when he had the opportunity, they wouldn’t be in this mess!

He felt himself descending into the all-too-familiar spiral of self-loathing. If he weren’t so hateful, he wouldn’t have felt the need to pick on Rain, and if he had been nicer to Rain they wouldn’t be in this situation now. Everything was his fault. He detested the ghoul who walked around in his imperfect skin.

Dew shook his head to dislodge the thoughts and turned to look at his pack: the time for should’ves had long passed, he had a new task ahead of him. Similarly, he couldn’t find it in himself to shift the blame for their situation onto Rain. Even if his inexperience was what pulled the trigger, Dew had loaded the gun. Looking at him now, sleeping peacefully, compared to seeing him in those dingy cells, Dew felt only a rush of protectiveness. Damn those pack instincts were strong.

They were his real purpose now; nothing that came before mattered apart from his pack. He couldn’t undo his actions any more than Rain could have pulled the raindrops back into their clouds, but he could make amends. That meant starting with an apology, and Dew was never very good at those. Staring back towards the village on the horizon, Dew contemplated what to say.

Eventually, the ghouls began to rise. By the time they had rubbed bleary eyes and blinked sleep away there was some activity in the distance, people scurrying around as tiny as ants. They would have to be careful to give the village a wide berth when they left.

“Wha- why didn’t you wake me for a watch?” yawned Aether, the last to wake.

Dew, Swiss and Mountain all levelled him with identical glares.

“What?”

“Aeth, you were exhausted,” Swiss sighed, “you used all your energy on Rain yesterday, you needed the sleep the most.”

Aether didn’t dare argue further.

After a slow start, all five ghouls and one horse had finally eaten and were all packed up ready to leave. They loaded Rain onto the mare, and some of their belongings into her saddlebags and set off. Cautiously, they skirted around the village, keeping several miles between them. Even with the distance, Swiss and Mountain kept a vigilant lookout as they hurried along the small back roads. They would need to stop to hunt and forage at some point, but that could wait until they were on neutral ground. They cautiously navigated their way forwards, taking a large detour to avoid all the small farms and dwellings that surrounded the town. They were especially careful to avoid the stables near the main road north: the townsfolk may not have recognised the horse from a distance, but up close her owners were sure to.

Only once the sun had reached its peak and begun its slow descent back towards the horizon, did they feel safe enough to pause for breath. The atmosphere as they walked had been somber, cut through in brief moments by flashes of tension during their escape. Rain still hadn’t spoken a word, although he seemed more lucid after his warm night's sleep. Ahead of them they could hear the gentle rushing of the river, the sound guiding them back towards the main path north. They kept walking until they reached its shores, the temptation of a cold drink pulling them onwards.

From here, the road forward was clear. Leading off the path was a small slope down towards the water, which partially shielded a small grassy patch from the view of any passing traveller. They picked their way down the gentle incline, collapsing to the soft undergrowth at the bottom.

“Well, that’s the hard part done.” Said Aether, as he helped Rain down from the saddle. He guided the water ghoul to sit on a rock next to the water, and scooped up some water in a small wooden bowl for him.

“Small sips, remember?”

Rain drained the bowl in one gulp and held it out for more.

“Be careful,” murmured Aether, “you’ll hurt your stomach.”

Rain ignored him in favour of unglamouring his tail and gently swishing it through the water beside him.

Aether watched, nodding in approval. The further they got from the village, the more alert Rain seemed. He’d been relieved so see Rain looking relatively human yesterday, no horns or tail in sight, the slight blue pallor to his skin easily explainable by his underground imprisonment. The first thing any young ghoul born topside learned about their magic was how to hide it. Rain had always struggled with that, reflected Aether, but then he had struggled with all aspects of his magic. Maybe some combination of the strengthening tinctures and herbs Swiss had brought to him, and whatever mysteriously unlocked his water connection so violently had helped him finally get it under control.

“We should forage a bit, whilst we're stopped here.” Mountain's low voice shook Aether from his thoughts, as he appeared beside him to collect water from his cupped hands, drinking it and splashing his face. His thick auburn hair was tied back with twine, but beneath it he was still sweating in the heat. “I think I saw some of the herbs you need for Rain's poultice back by the road.” Aether dipped his head in agreement and quickly drunk from the river himself.

“Are you good with Swiss and Dew for a bit, Rain?” he asked, passing another, smaller, bowl of water up to him. Rain nodded, content to continue basking in his element for as long as he could.

Swiss looked up from where he and Dew were sprawled on their backs on the warm grass, heads resting on their packs.

“We’ve got him Aeth, don’t worry.”

Looking like he would continue worrying regardless, Aether sorted through his knapsack taking out all but what he needed. Once Mountain had done the same, the pair headed back up the slope to the path and the wooded area beyond.

Their feet recovered temporarily, Dew and Swiss also migrated to Rain’s spot by the river to get a drink. He sat there, tail stirring the water as he watched the fish swim past. The longing to join them in his eyes was unmissable.

“You wanna paddle?” Dew asked him, thinking the cold water looked pretty refreshing himself. Rain nodded enthusiastically, so Dew helped him roll his borrowed trousers up before doing the same with his own. Carefully, he and Swiss balanced Rain as they waded out into the river. As they got deeper in, the water lapping at their knees, Rain seemed to gain in strength.

“Don’t get your clothes wet,” warned Swiss, “you’ll catch a chill, even in this weather.”

Rain acted like he hadn’t heard him, suddenly dropping into a crouch in the moving water and pulling the other two ghouls down with him. He grinned wickedly at their shouts and shrieks from the chilly shock of the water, before pausing and lunging towards a trout as it swam past his ankles. All three of them were completely soaked.

“I thought you were meant to be at death’s door!” spluttered Dew, pushing sodden blond hair out of his face and plucking at the uncomfortably wet clothes now clinging to his body. Rain snickered at them, and despite their protests, both Dew and Swiss were relieved to see him getting some life back. The water ghoul held the fish out towards Dew with a polite and slightly apologetic head-tilt, and Dew found himself unable to supress a smile.

“F-for you?” Rain spoke with a halting stutter, the first any of them had heard from him in over a week.

"Oh, you have it." Dew laughed, delighted at his progress out of his silent and withdrawn state. Rain licked his lips gleefully, before sinking his fangs deep into the still-wriggling fish. Dew sighed internally at the huge mess he was making; this was going to be his fault, somehow, wasn't it?

Once Rain had polished off the unlucky trout, making a tremendous mess of himself and his clothes in the process, Dew and Swiss tried their best to clean him off in the river still rushing around them.

“Right, let’s dry you off,” announced Swiss, “Mount and Aeth will decide we’re dinner if they see we let you get all wet!”

Ignoring his whine of protest, Swiss scooped up the squirming water ghoul and carried him back to dry land. In his weakened state there was no chance for him to fight back, but that didn’t stop him pouting petulantly the whole time. Dew plopped down between the two and heated his skin up like a space heater, the steam soon rising from his wet clothes and skin and beginning to dry the others.

“Thank you, Dew.” Whispered Rain, so quiet Dew almost missed it, but with a conviction that made the words reverberate around his skull like prayers in a cathedral.

The sun beat down on them from above and, led on the soft grass in the peaceful sunshine, the three ghouls could almost forget the problems they faced.

A while later, Mountain and Aether returned with a few bundles of herbs and some berries they found on their way back.

“Why are you all wet?” exclaimed Aether.

“You should be more careful, he'll get sick,” Mountain reprimanded them, “what were you thinking?”

Swiss rolled his eyes, ignoring the dig at them.

“Relax, he'll be fine. It was Rain's idea anyway!”

Dew however, took the criticism to heart: he'd failed his packmate again. Sure, it might have been Rain's idea, but he should have stepped in and stopped him; he should have been more responsible.

It soured his mood for the rest of the day. Mountain caught them a few more fish using a line and earthworms as bait, and after gutting and cleaning them, they packed up their haul to continue moving while it was still light. Several hours later, the sun was kissing its final farewell to the horizon, the sky fading through a kaleidoscope of colours. Rain hadn't spoken another word since earlier, and Dew began to think he had imagined it. They went to bed in silence, not even making eye contact as they settled on opposite sides of the bedroll.

Dew lay awake in the darkness, thinking to himself. He needed to apologise to Rain, that was clear. He'd missed his chance earlier, too caught up in the light-hearted mood to ruin it with a serious talk. The rest of his pack clearly thought he was to blame; Rain must do too.

Eventually, Dew must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew he was being shaken awake by Aether for his turn at a watch. Rain had again migrated to the centre of the bedroll, his gangly limbs taking up the limited space and claiming Dew's warmth for themselves. He sat sullenly at the edge of their camp, stewing in his thoughts until morning.

Throughout their second day on the road, the weather broke. The glorious sunshine vanished, giving way to never-ending clouds and cold, drizzling rain. This seemed to be helping a certain water ghoul, tipping his head back to catch droplets of his namesake on his tongue. Rain's strength was coming back in leaps and bounds, he'd finally attempted to speak again, holding a quiet and stuttered conversation with Swiss and Aether from his perch on the mare's back. The pair seemed to be trying their hardest to keep him entertained, Swiss leading a continuous stream of small talk to distract Rain from thinking about his recent ordeal.

Dew, however, was not doing so well. He was cold, his feet were wet, and he had exhausted himself early on trying to keep them dry with magic. He trudged behind the others, dragging his feet forward and moping to himself. After their conversation the previous morning, he had hoped that Swiss would see how much he needed support too, and maybe turn to Dew for support of his own. That didn't seem to be the case at all however: Swiss had his cheerful mask fixed firmly back in place and was laying one hundred percent of his attention on Rain.

Dew had wanted to have a word with Rain today, now he was able to speak again. The guilt that had wracked his mind last night had only intensified while he slept, and he knew there was only one realistic way to settle things. Getting Rain alone had proved almost impossible however: aside from the fact that his two companions never left his side, Rain himself seemed distant. Dew could understand – he would be distant with him too, were their roles reversed.

Mountain was clearly still upset as well, not speaking to Dew unless he couldn't avoid it. He was less bothered by the rain than Dew and was ploughing of ahead of the pack. Dew remembered what Swiss had said, and knew he was likely just stressed, trying to cope with the situation in his own way. He was worrying about where and when to make camp, where to find food, and trying to be the best provider for his pack as possible having felt like he failed to protect Rain before. As Dew trailed along behind his packmates, he thought bitterly that if Mountain paused for a second and thought, he could realise that Dew had made this journey twice over the last week, and remembered most of the locations he had camped in. Rather than offer his advice though, Dew stayed quiet: his input wouldn't be appreciated, so why bother? The rain became heavier as they exited from under a canopy of trees, and Dew resigned himself to several more hours of misery.

From atop the horse, Rain was enjoying the gentle drizzle. They'd been slowly moving forward all day, the monotony of the journey only broken up by Swiss leaping between conversation topics. Rain was grateful for the distraction. His mind still felt fuzzy, like it was lagging several metres behind him and walking alongside Dewdrop. Huh, though Rain to himself. He had seen a new side to Dew yesterday when he helped him wade around in the river: a more caring ghoul who didn't snap at him for wanting to indulge in childish things like paddling on a hot day. Everything had felt like it might be okay in that moment – the cool water and gentle support of his packmates had cleared the cobwebs that shrouded his brain away, and he'd finally managed to form words. This Dewdrop was an entirely different ghoul from the one who found any excuse to gripe at him: this Dew could be expected to pull off a risky stunt to save him from the hangman's noose; would let him cuddle up close at night for warmth.

Now though, that Dew had disappeared. He was back to his familiar and grouchy self, dragging his feet as he brought up the rear. Rain wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, if anything. As he dried off yesterday, the clouds had descended around him again and he had not been able to pay attention to his packmate's interactions, even if he had wanted to. They were only starting to lift now with the tiny sharp shocks of individual raindrops striking his exposed skin, making him alert enough to hear Swiss recounting the time he'd met a dog he thought was half ghoul, but wasn't. Rain appreciated him trying but really, he could have done with some silence in this precious moment of mental clarity. Still, he sensed Swiss was chattering about similarly banal topics more for his own benefit than anyone else's, so he helped him keep the conversation going, replying when he could and enjoying the encouraging smiles it would pull from the multi ghoul.

Rain wondered if he should try to speak to Dew. They would need to have a conversation about what had unfolded in the square at some point, that was clear. However, Dew didn’t seem in the mood for an emotionally vulnerable talk – if anything he seemed to want to be left alone, staying far away from the others. Whenever Rain sensed a chance to catch Dew by himself, the stony frown on his face made him anxious that it would make things between them worse, and all ability to form coherent thoughts vanished as swiftly as he had recovered it.

That night, Dew griped and grumbled all the while as they prepared for bed. Rain had thought he would be pleased: Mountain had declared that they were far enough away from people who would do them harm as to not need a watch anymore. His and Aether’s old senses from their travelling days had come right back to them, and they were convinced they would wake at anything suspicious. Combined with Dew’s fire, Mountain’s protective wards, and their location off the path, they had decided it was safe enough for them all to all get a full night’s sleep.

Now that they had stopped moving, Rain was beginning to get cold in the damp evening air. His affinity with his element only went so far, especially given that he already ran cold and was still severely malnourished. He shivered as he tried to settle on his side of the bedroll, keeping his distance from a frosty Dewdrop. He desperately wanted to shuffle closer to him, to hold the smaller ghoul tightly and absorb every scrap of warmth he radiated. However, stronger than the heat was the anger emanating from him, so Rain kept a cautious distance.

He curled into himself, his back to Dew who was mirroring his position and almost off the edge of the heavy canvas. Rain tried to suppress his frozen trembling long past the time the others had fallen asleep. Dew was still awake however; Rain could hear his breathing. With the clearest head he had had since his actions of the week prior, the enormity of his situation suddenly hit him and his shivering turning into the shaking of silent sobs.

Rain had been trying to put on a brave face since his rescue, not wanting to seem ungrateful in any way when he knew he owed his pack – especially Dew – his life. However, he had barely started processing what had happened, how close he had come to dying, how his actions had killed people. How Dew, the one ghoul who had never warmed to him, had saved his life. How they were married now? It all seemed like a crazy dream, like the ones he had experienced as a kit after eating a pretty, red-spotted frog he had found in the marsh.

Now though, the same ghoul who had apparently cared for him enough to agree to marry him hadn’t spoken to him since the river yesterday. Rain took a shuddering breath, trying to get his tears under control. What was his life coming to? Now, to top it all off, he and his pack were moving across the country to a place he had never heard of before, with none of his own belongings, and wearing a spare set of Swiss’s clothes. All because he couldn’t control his emotions, like he was failing at doing now, and let himself be goaded into attempting something he wasn’t ready for.

He hadn’t attempted any water magic since they left. He certainly hadn’t tried tapping into that alien electrical buzz either; he didn’t even know if he would still be able to now that he was out of direct danger. So much for practicing his skills. Maybe Dew was right, he really was a failure. He would have been better off sticking to his own slow pace, even if that meant being called the pack burden by Dew. His crying intensified, knowing what his mistake had done to his pack and their stable, happy life.

Dew rolled over to face him, a thunderous expression on his face.

“Can you shut up?” He snapped. “Go to sleep. It’s your fault we’re in this situation in the first place!”

Hearing his own worst thoughts out loud only made Rain sob harder. He tried to muffle his cries in the blanket: the last thing he needed now was for Dew to call him weak again or, Hell forbid, disrupt the others’ sleep to make them comfort him.

Rain drew in a shaky breath, and hissed back at Dew,

“No one asked you to rescue me. I don’t know why you bothered, since you clearly hate me so much!”

Dew seemed stunned into silence by Rain’s sudden acquisition of a backbone. He flopped back onto his side to glare into the darkness away from Rain, and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

“If you hadn’t stupidly tried to prove yourself with something you knew you couldn’t handle, we would be in this mess.” He growled.

“Well if you didn’t spend every waking minute making me feel like I needed to prove myself, we wouldn’t be here either!” Rain shot back.

The air crackled with tension and the echoes of both of their deepest insecurities spoken aloud. The pair lay there, stewing in anger. Dew’s thoughts of apologising went out the window – Rain clearly wasn’t in a forgiving mood, what good would it do now?

They eventually fell asleep when their exhaustion won out, as separated as the narrow bedroll would allow them to be. When they woke, they were still on their opposite sides, the space between them cold for the first time since their journey began.

[chris-continues]

Head empty no thoughts except just Vash

Trigun college au tags: @vashfantasy @h4venpha @lune010

ALSO IDK IF U WANNA BE TAGGED BUT HERE U GO BRO @macncherries

Cw college au vash has depression btw

Like I haven’t had him super on the brain lately but I do miss him

Imagine college au vash and you just kinda coming to the stalemate of “I don’t think they like me and I’m lowk too tired to do anything besides just slowly inch into their arms” so you’re both having your usual movie nights that slowly progressed into Milly Meryl and Wolfwood doing their thing and your thigh barely touching Vash’s

You can hear his breath stuttering if you listen closely enough, hand almost skimming his 0///0

Months later you watch movies alone with him, your legs draped over his as you check your phone notifications and he’s like: “wait wait this is the good part!” And quotes the scene word for word to your amusement

It’s cute, really. You both nerd out together, have greasy takeout that probably has more sodium than you should be having but indulging in sweet moments like this? Where you’re in his company and enjoying the all too charming grins and fleeting touches, coupled with as you try to keep it down (lest his brother get pissed off since you’ve interrupted his brooding). Vash is a wonderful friend who you find plenty easy to talk to and relate to- when his depression fucking slams him you’re one of the people he trusts. When he cannot get up you’re one of the people he (begrudgingly) texts when he doesn’t want Nai’s help (to his frustrations- Nai has become more acquainted with you due to this).

Or (because he’s AUDHD) imagine his executive dysfunction hitting him in the face and he’s like lowk dying

You bring him food and good company if he needs it. And sometimes he’s nonverbal as he gestures you in, forcing himself to speak until you can tell he’s really straining himself and just super fucking exhausted, allowing him to pick a movie as you set up the food on the coffee table (open takeout containers and grab napkins + utensils)

Your legs curled into criss cross applesauce or propped against the now half empty containers, glancing over to him every now and then to check on him. He’s closed off, sometimes his knees are tucked to his chest or he’s also sitting criss crossed, arms against his knees as the fatigue he harbors becomes more apparent.

He’s vulnerable like this. And to be honest? He never thought he’d be reaching out to anyone like this. But you’re so comforting, so sweet about how you approach it because you understand. You get it. And you’re you and-

He exhales once more.

Maybe one night he ends up resting his head on your shoulder, exhaustion seeping through him as he doesn’t fully process what he’s just done. Let his guard down, possibly pushed your boundaries- but all you do is momentarily tense up and tentatively rest your head over his, basking in his company once more (despite your nervousness. I’m projecting and making reader touch starved in this too)

And then it doesn’t happen for a bit. But then one of you initiates it again. And it’s a silent, unspoken thing asking for comfort- you don’t assume it’s romantic in nature, but you each just tend to flock to one another in times like these. He’s so comforting to be around- understanding yet solemn eyes, empathetic gaze and when he does speak, he knows. He gets it. And you’re the same way to him.

It’s with this that you start to fall for the guy with the cool designs on his pants- he painted them himself! The guy with the brightest smile you know and the kindest heart, who can probably recite most Star Wars movies and has rebuilt the Lego Death Star on multiple occasions because it manages to roll off of where he keeps it (he wants to hang it up on his ceiling but Nai is hesitant about putting more holes in the apartment walls/ceiling). The guy who you learn to rest on after a hard day, oftentimes splurging a tiny bit on something sweet for you to share, even if it hurts your wallet a small bit seeing his eyes light up after a long day makes it plenty worth it.

He makes you feel on a constant high and you can be yourself truly around him, unabashedly and unapologetically rambling about your interests and viewpoints to one another for hours on end.

And when times are hard?

You’ll find your way to him. And he will do the same.

[animereaderinsertwriter]

tags/warnings: sexual themes, vampire!levi, thrall!reader, blood drinking implied

Vampire!Levi who is exhausted with fighting his bloodlust.

Vampire!Levi who wants so desperately just to feel alive.

Vampire!Levi who looks at you and hates you because you have everything he could ever want, because you are human and you take it for granted that your still-beating heart is still beating and you waste the time you could be spending alive and happy and mortal fighting titans and bleeding and dying; because don’t you know how precious your life is? Don’t you know that the fleeting looks you give him as he crosses the mess hall are a fucking waste because you should be giving them to someone you can grow old with? 

Vampire!Levi who has been around long enough to know that your attraction will fade even if his will not, and it is far wiser to let your fleeting hurt run its course than to force the immortal pain of eternal separation on a mortal soul. 

Vampire!Levi who sees you as you lay dying, and decides to throw caution into the wind because he cannot bear to see you leave him so soon, so far before your time. 

Vampire!Levi who thralls you to save your life.

Vampire!Levi who refuses to drink from you, even when you beg. Perhaps even because you beg.

“Please,” you say with breathless wanting. “Heichou— Levi, let me be your cupbearer.”

He turns bodily from you, not trusting his eyes with your pleading face. Already, he can hear your heartbeat echo in his ears, feel the lifeblood of your artery pulsing against his tongue— and he hasn’t even touched you, not even with gloved hands, since that day.

“No.”

It is all he can trust himself to say.

“I want it,” you reply, and he can feel the heat of your body as you take one step closer, can smell the blood rush to your cheeks in shameless humiliation. “Please, Levi— I owe you my life—”

“You owe me nothing,” he growls,

“— but I would want this even if I didn’t!”

Your words ring impossibly loud in his ears, and he turns to look at you, reprimand on the tip of his tongue, but then your hands are on either side of his face, pulling him to you. At your touch, he becomes boneless, strengthless; you kiss him, sweetly, chastely, and then you press deliciously against him, your chest heavy against his. Your tongue slips into his mouth— a mistake, he realizes, a stupid, foolish, human mistake, as his lower fang catches soft flesh, piercing it.

Your blood is somehow even sweeter than it was the first time. It tastes something like wine, he thinks— tangy from the iron, a bit bitter, and then the sweetest ambrosia imaginable. When you pull away, forcing himself to let you go is the hardest thing he has ever done. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, breathless once more. “Did you get a taste?”

“More than,” he replies, and before he can stop you, you kiss him again, the blood that is pooling in your mouth smearing against his lips, and he groans even as he keeps himself rigidly, painfully, in place, refusing to kiss you back.

“I can’t,” he tells you as gently as possible, pushing you away. “You tempt me too much.”

His hands are shaking. He wants you so badly— but he refuses even to press his tongue against the crimson stain of your blood on his lips. He must be stronger than this. He must.

“You’re tired,” you tell him, looking at him with sad eyes. “You’re always so tired and it’s because you don’t feed properly—”

“I feed enough,” he insists, but you shake your head.

“I can feel it,” you say, taking one of his hands and pressing it against your chest. “Right here. I can feel your Hunger. You’re malnourished, Levi. Whatever you’re eating… it isn’t good enough.”

You move his hand slightly, and he finds himself cupping your breast, holding the weight of it in his hand. 

“Let me be your cupbearer,” you whisper. “Let me be your Hebe. I want to— I want—”

You stumble over your words, and as he finishes your sentence for you, his mouth tastes like ash. 

“You want to serve me. It’s your instinct as a thrall.” He shakes his head. “I refuse to take advantage of—”

Levi cuts himself off— and nearly bites through his own tongue— when he realizes that you’re tugging at him by the belt.

“I wanted to serve you long before you ever tasted me, Levi Ackerman,” you snap. “Ever since I first met you, I’ve wanted to kneel before you, put myself at your mercy— ”

He tries to back away, but you follow him, giving him no chance to put distance between you. 

“I’ve wanted you,” you tell him, fierce and yet so vulnerable, “and my wanting for you has not changed, Levi.”

You kiss him then, and he yields. As he laps the blood from your tongue, allows you to press yourself against him, he knows he’s been completely, utterly defeated; your will has outmatched his, and he can do nothing but take all that you give him.

It is too early to tell you that he loves you, but it does not change the fact that as you offer up your wrist to him, that is exactly what he feels. 

[rockingrobin69]

some-day-wip-snip

Thank you for tagging me, @mintawasalreadytaken and @orange-peony! I’m back to working on my housemates SEVERE PINING fic, brimming with so much excitement I literally cannot bear it, so, here’s a snip! Featuring: shenanigans, baking, and a tiny, mysterious dog-shaped item.

One night Harry came back late, terrible week, got stuck at the office in a useless meeting till his eyes nearly popped out. Took the bus home with his face scrunched, the beginning of a headache simmering behind his eyebrows, miserable and tired and utterly depressed to think that tomorrow would be the same, and the day after, and the day after it.

Walked in the kitchen and had to rub his eyes. Rubbed them again for good measure. The image didn’t change; all the bowls he owned stacked one on top of the other on every available surface, counter caked with flour, fingerprints in butter on all the cupboards, and in the dead centre, Malfoy, wearing an apron and his slanted, weird smile.

“Harry!” like this was the most normal thing in the universe. “You’re back! We thought you might never return. I set out to make my grandmother’s fabled biscuits, but, alas, as you can tell, the endeavour’s not been entirely successful. Yet.”

Too many questions and not enough air. The nearly-headache swirled in blacks and golds behind his eyelids. “Malfoy,” trying to breathe it out, “what… who’s we?”

“Hmm?”

“You said we were worried. Who’s here? Is it Ginny?” because he’s going to bloody—

“Oh! No, Ginevra is out of town, has a match tomorrow. I meant me and Crumpet.” He picked up something small and silvery and waved it about, weird smile trickling slowly into something else, unsure. “I named him Crumpet. Hope you don’t mind.”

Harry stared and stared and still got nothing. “Is that… what is that?”

“I think they’re for serviettes,” Malfoy presented the offending object on a flour-covered palm; a tiny, dog-shaped… thing. “Possibly cutlery. There’s a set of six in the bottom drawer, I was looking for a sieve. Is that okay?”

Must have seen something in Harry’s face, because he came closer.

Harry choked on nothing. “Didn’t even know we had them. Must’ve been my parents’. Or Sirius’s, maybe. I have a lot of crap all around that I never really get to… erm.”

Malfoy’s hand did a funny little dance, like it wanted to touch him, then remembered it was covered in butter and goo. Ended up scratching his nose, leaving a fine smudge behind.

“I shouldn’t be sneaking around, using your things. I can get my own, should get my own utensils.”

“Don’t be daft,” Harry rolled his eyes, tried to get this silly fizzing in his belly to stop. “You can use anything that’s in here. I wouldn’t even know we had them if you didn’t… so that’s Crumpet, then? Did you name them all?”

Malfoy’s bottom lip was between his teeth, one pierced eyebrow hiked up. “No, not yet. We had some serious business to attend to first, Crumpet and I. The third batch is actually meant to be ready soon, so why don’t you grab a shower and come back for some—hopefully, biscuits? Worst case, Asda’s own?”

He laughed, couldn’t help it. “Third batch?”

“Ah,” did Malfoy just wink? “Such the detective, Mr. Potter. The first batch we won’t even mention, the consistency was the single most disgusting thing I’ve seen, horrifying to think I made it with my own two hands. Apparently Nana forgot to mention some pretty crucial details when relaying the recipe—that, or the ever simpler answer, my mother is a cunt.”

“Oh.” Malfoy’s expression sharpened around the edges, devilish and handsome, and he ran a floury hand through his hair.

“Then came the second batch. Did you know, Harry, that baking requires absolute precision? And if, say, one was to go, ‘ah, fuck it’, then baking soda can become quite the vindictive bitch?”

Harry tapped the corners of his grin. “And the flour explosion? What happened there?”

“That,” Malfoy tutted, “is the result of some poor training on my part, I’m afraid. You see, Crumpet wasn’t quite ready for all the tricks—”

“You’re not seriously going to blame a three-inch placeholder for this, are you?”

“Aha!” finger pointing up in victory. “I knew you’d know what these are! Placeholders, then. How fancy. We shall have to throw a feast to display them.”

Laughing, laughing, what else could he do, rubbing the wispy remains of a headache from his forehead. “You’re an idiot. And you’re going to clean this, Malfoy, or so help me.”

“Of course, of course,” in a tone that suggested he had absolutely no intention to, not a chance. “They are good, though. The biscuits. In theory. Mother would always make them when she knew I’d—used them as bribes, probably, to be honest. But I thought, might be nice, seeing as your week is so disgustingly busy. It’s the only one of her recipes I remember. And poorly, at that.”

Harry’s eyes were still tingling, but he could see the look on Malfoy’s face. Recognised the feeling, he thought. This weird drop in your belly when you realise how very lost something is to you. Finding something you loved, irretrievable.

“Hey. They better be good. I mean it, Malfoy. Crumpet and I will be very disappointed in anything less.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re now in cahoots with my three-inch placeholder pet.”

“Pretty sure Crumpet’s still my three-inch placeholder pet, ta very much.”

He gave a little bow, then came closer. “My apologies for the disrespect, Mr. Potter. Master? Sir Potter. Please accept this as token of my most genuine regret.” When he unclenched his hand, there was only a second or two to realise what was happening and try to escape. Harry didn’t.

Ended up with his face full of flour, pinched from the counter. “Malfoy!” indignant and shaky on laughter, “you fucking bastard, come back here—”

Chased him around the kitchen, like children, like idiots, tackled him behind the table to smear his face full of—caster sugar, flour, whatever he could find, and Malfoy was squirming in his hands, roaring with laughter, fighting tooth and nail to push Harry back, and when that didn’t work, to lick him away (“UGH!”), laughing, laughing, laughing.

They only let up when the timer went off. Both disgusting, breathless, and Harry was still panting when Malfoy pushed him out to the corridor, yelled at him to take a shower. Rushed back down to find the kitchen still a mess, and two cups of tea, and a trayful of cooling biscuits.

Malfoy snuck a tub of them in his work bag the next day. They really were quite good.

If you got all the way here, kudos to you, and you are now IT! Share a snip with us, will you? And tag me!!

[romanceandshenanigans]

Writer Q&A Game

Thanks to @clairelsonao3 for tagging me!

1. What motivates you to write?

I'm not exactly sure tbh. It almost feels like a compulsion. There are days where I simply do not feel good in my body if I haven't written anything. Then there are others where I can't bring myself to write because I'm too tired or too distracted from life. Honestly the second I get a clear head and enough time to myself, I'll start writing.

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

This isn't from my WIP, but from a fanfic I wrote a while ago. I want to try to find a way to incorporate it into something. Not sure where though.

“I know this seems like it’s coming out of nowhere,” he said, “but promise it’s not. I’ve had a long time to think about it.  A few years, actually. I guess, I just didn’t realize how deep I was in it until about five minutes ago.”

She kept silent, but the simple fact she hadn’t told him to get out gave him the confidence to keep going. . 

“I meant it when I said I’m crazy about you. I like that you take your sugar with a drop of coffee.  I like how you sing to yourself when you’re happy.  I like that you never seem to get cold.  I like that you never lose your head under fire, but still need me to get rid of spiders. I like that you can laugh at yourself.  I like that you can laugh at me. Hell, I like that you’re perfectly willing to slap my face if the situation calls for it.

I like so many things about you Liz, and that’s just the stuff I found out on accident.  I can only imagine the stuff I’d learn if I started loving you on purpose."

3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

I really do enjoy writing Finn. The boy just makes my smile.

Close second is another OC which I wrote for fanfic who I want to save and put someplace else, Lucy. She's my softest girl who has a lot of love to give. Might figure out a way to put her in this regency setting somewhere, but who knows.

4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

The first draft spree. The moment when you get an idea and you have write it down as quickly as possible. It's rough and definitely will need some editing, but that rush cannot be topped. It just feels satisfying to exorcise even the smallest of scenes out of my body.

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Dialogue, hands down. It's at least the part I've gotten the most compliments on.

6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

I've only just started to dip my toe in, but I really do love answering asks. I like seeing other writer's process and knowing I'm not alone. It's just fun!

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I've been using Scrivener and it's really helped me keep everything organized. I have a very conspiracy board way of drafting, so having all my random snippets in one place really helps.

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

Not sure world building is my strong suit for this current WIP. I suppose I'm enjoying expanding the world of the theatre, but I admittedly need to do more research.

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Write anyway. It doesn't have to be the scene that's giving you trouble. It doesn't even have to be for the piece you're trying to focus on, just don't get out of the habit of writing. Once you lose that momentum, it takes a long time to get it back.

10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

Gotta give a shout out to @clairelsonao3 for being so welcoming in my introduction to the writeblr community. And @janec23, for being one of the few specifically romance writers to reach out.

But I really can't begin to thank all the people who have followed me from my fanfic blog over to this one. It really means so much to know people are interested in reading anything I put out there.

@flapjacques, @jo-harrington, @can-of-pringles, @handahbear, @auroramagpie, @justanothersadperson93, @sad-cat-hours, @ghostface001, @theowlwhocameback, @mattmurdocksscars, @roruna, @everything-intertwined, @sweetjedi, @arcanerazil, @vibratingbonesbis, @delirious0pandemonium, @llovelykenobi, @geek-girl7, @mixedupanddown

Know that I love and appreciate you all.

I'm also going to leave this an OPEN tag to anyone who wants to do this, and especially invite everyone who I have tagged above. (and

[imreallyloveleee]

for @auroraworldtourftbughead who asked about my "road trip to ohio" fic: ok so this is a s5 au that i started writing back in Feb/Mar. it picks up a few weeks after they find Polly's body, ie at the point in the show where it became extremely clear that they were just dropping the arc they'd been building for Betty & Jughead and veering off in another nonsensical direction. i really want to finish this one and correct the sins of late s5, lol. (and i just miss jughead's family!) here is a snippet from the beginning of the story:

It’s just past eight in the evening. She’s dragging the trash bins from the garage out to the sidewalk for tomorrow morning’s pickup when she sees him standing in the driveway next door, struggling to wrestle an oversized duffle bag into the storage compartment of his motorcycle.

“Jug. Hey.” She’s already halfway across the yard between their houses by the time he notices her. His eyes soften from surprise to mild concern as she approaches.

“Hey. How are you holding up?”

Betty mulls for a moment over her response. It’s a fair question to ask someone three weeks after they found their sister’s body rotting in the trunk of a rusting, broken junkyard sedan. She doesn't especially want to answer; she's just tired of coming up with ways to change the subject.

Thankfully the scene she's stumbled upon makes it easy. She gestures to the bag. "Hanging in there. What’s this?”

Jughead sighs, giving the duffel bag another half-hearted shove, to no avail. “I’m heading to Ohio for JB’s graduation.”

Recognition flickers dimly in her memory. He’d mentioned this to her weeks ago, when they were deep in investigation mode, one of probably a thousand things he’d said that had filtered in and out of her brain like water through a sieve. She’d said something like oh, my god, she’s graduating already? we’re so old! in response, and then promptly returned to obsessing over their latest clue in the hunt for the highway killer.

“But I guess the gift I got her is too big for this stupid thing –” 

“You’re driving all the way to Ohio on a motorcycle?” she interrupts. “In the middle of the night? Isn’t that, like, a seven hour drive?”

He shifts his gaze away from her, towards the Andrews house, which she interprets as yes, I know this is a dumb fucking idea and no, I don’t want to talk about it. 

After the last few months she's had, she can relate.

“It’s tomorrow,” he says. “I was supposed to leave yesterday, but – I kind of got distracted, with everything that’s been going on.” 

Betty tries not to react to that. He must mean “everything” that’s been going on with Tabitha – her parents’ arrival in town, their burgeoning relationship. Kevin had seen them out at a restaurant together with the Tates, holding hands at the dinner table. Betty wishes they’d just make it public already, post a couple's photo on Instagram or something. It’s getting uncomfortable, pretending she doesn’t know.

He's muttering to himself, hoisting the duffel bag out of the storage compartment and onto his shoulder. "Maybe if I repack this into a backpack instead…"

“You can take my car, if you want,” she offers, and then, without allowing herself to actually consider what she’s proposing, adds, “Or…I could come with you.”

Jughead freezes, his eyes darting from her face to her car where it sits in the opposite driveway, and then back again. “Oh, no – I couldn’t ask –” 

“We could tag-team the driving. And I’d love to see JB and your dad, and…everyone.” She doesn’t actually know if Gladys is still in the picture or not. “To be honest, I – I really need to get out of this house for a few days.”

She knows how she sounds: desperate. But she also knows that if anyone in her life can come anywhere close to understanding what this is like – what it means to be the child of a parent who is a walking, weeping open wound, a gaping hole of need that cannot possibly be filled – it’s Jughead. 

(And she feels guilty for thinking of her grieving mother in those terms, she really does, but the truth is she’s suffocating. Put on your own oxygen mask first, Dr. Glass told her all those years ago. It was just about the only useful thing he'd imparted to her in a cumulative sixteen hours of therapy, other than a prescription for Adderall.) 

“At least take the car,” she insists. “You can’t even fit your stuff in here.”

Jughead’s lips press together. His eyes flit back towards the house again – only the garage light is on, which is where he’s been staying. “You’re sure you want to sit in a car with me for seven hours? I’ve got terrible taste in music.”

Her face breaks out into a tremulous smile. It feels weird, but good – the first uncontrolled display of emotion she’s had in weeks that wasn’t borne of despair. 

“I’m sure.” 

[myblogandotherrubbish]

✨9 people you’d like to get to know better! ✨

thank you to @annasinterests for the tag!!!

i can’t lie, i haven’t done anything like this before, so I hope i do it right! there will be a few low pressure tags at the end for people i’m mutuals with!! no stress if you don’t wanna do it! there may also be one (1) person i tag who is not a mutual but who i think is great. just to clarify i also think everyone’s great.

okay here we go.

last song: All Around Me by Flyleaf. No, I cannot escape my 13 year old self. However, I have also been really enjoying synthwave and vaporwave stuff recently, and also getting into a lot of Alex G! 🎵

favourite colour: green all the way, but my second favourite colour is purple!! truly though, I love all colours, but those are my most favourite, they make me so happy 💚 💜

currently watching: i’m currently re watching The Boys! I’m a big fan of that show, I love the whole fucked up evil superhero vibes. i’m also planning on starting to watch Westworld soon, and i need to get back into Hannibal. Also if anyone wants a great detective series to watch, watch True Detective, it changed my life. Okay I’m done now. 📺

last movie: omg i feel like i never watch movies anymore but I have so many that i love, hmmmm i think the last one i watched was probably Little Miss Sunshine as it is one of my favourite ones ever. BUT if we’re talking about movies that i watched in a cinema, i can’t lie the last one i saw was Jackass Forever. love those guys. or was it Halloween Ends. who knows.🎥

currently reading: ohoho!!! i have just finished reading Brutes by Dizz Tate. i would highly recommend it, it’s a wonderful representation of working class girlhood and small town secrets. i also finished Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn. all i can say is what a book, it astounded me, 11/10 📚

sweet/spicy/savoury: spicy and savoury all the way babeeyyyyy. i love spicy food so much. maybe too much. my stomach hates me. I do like chocolate a lot, but i can eat more savoury food than sweet which is a win in my opinion. 🌶️

relationship status: in a relationship!! I have been with my wonderful girlfriend for nearly three years. our anniversary is in march. she is the light of my life and my best friend. 💖

current obsession: ah yes. the things i am so normal about. i just very recently got a ps4 from a friend so i have been playing lots and lots of games. my favourites were the last of us, the last of us part two, and red dead redemption 2. especially rdr2. of course, i’m so normal about it, and the ending and story didn’t break my heart into a million tiny pieces. if you’re reading this and want to talk about these games REACH OUT TO ME I am so passionate about them and would love to talk 🕹️(this was the only gaming emoji I could find forgive me)

last thing i googled: i cannot lie it was probably ao3. or like, potato soup recipes. I love potato soup 🍲

currently working on: staying relatively sane. i graduated this july, and life feels weird right now. i’ve started working full time and i am very tired™️ all of the time. i am autistic so life can definitely be very overwhelming but i’m clinging on. unless of course you meant a project i’m currently working on, then i am currently working on trying to possibly start writing fanfiction of my own. unfortunately i also have horrendous writers block and crippling performance anxiety. let’s just say my 13 year old self’s fanfiction wasn’t doing rounds on wattpad in 2014. we shall see we shall see. ✒️

thank you for the tag again!! this was so fun and I hope it was okay and not boring!!! i will now tag some of my mutuals. and also some maybe not mutuals. ignore me if you don’t want to do this. please do not feel pressured. mwah 💋

@beefrobeefcal @fangirl-is-a-lifestyle @ladyoftheteaandblood @saturn-cherries @oblivion-wonderlust @stuffinmybrainhole @toxicanonymity @bil-daddy

[smallestapplin]

Hi can I request parental MC with Sabi and Lian where the MC gets banshied and the younger wardens are there to comfort them

I love the young wardens they are too adorable 💖💖💖

Reader is called ‘mom’ but is referred to with GN pronouns.

-

-

The news of your banishment got around fast. Both clans in disbelief that the village would banish you in the blink of an eye.

Stunned at how quickly the village turned its back on you, and left you. Threatening them if they helped.

Luckily Volo, Irida, Adaman, and a nice lady named Cogita came up with a plan to help you. Giving you a safe, hidden spot to stay in.

You kept yourself for the most part anymore.

You were rarely at the ancient retreat, unless it was for your next orders. You barely even slept there, always out and about.

It doesn’t help that the clan leaders are growing tired, more hurt the longer you stay banished.

Sabi won’t stop pestering Adaman for your whereabouts, she knows what he said, though she doesn’t fully grasp it.

She just wants to see you again, she misses you.

Irida is in the same boat, Lian begs and pleads to know where you are.

He hasn’t seen you since you came to ask him for Irida, he cried and cried into your stomach, apologizing he couldn’t help.

Are you mad at him?

It broke Irida’s heart that he thinks you’re angry with him.

The two leaders came up with a plan.

“You two cannot know where this place is, but we will take you to it.”

“Is ma there?”

The two kids light up, hoping for the answer.

“Yes, the hero is there, but we can’t let anyone else know of this place.” Irida says, but Adaman continues.

“The lady that lives there has given permission for you two to visit, just this once, and you must behave.”

“Yes sir!”

The kids made sure to keep their eyes covered, while the clan leaders carried them to the ancient retreat.

They hold still and until they can hear your voice, you sound so tired, but it’s you!

“H-hey hold still!” Adaman says, carrying to kids isn’t easy!

But Sabi breaks free first, dropping to the ground and running towards you.

“Mom! Mom!”

You stare in shock before snapping out of it, instantly crouching down to hug the green haired girl.

“Sabi! What on Earth are you doing here?”

You hold her close, almost afraid she’ll disappear if you let her go.

You hear another thud, looking up to see an exasperated Adaman, and a running Lian.

“Ma!”

“Lian!” You move Sabi to one arm, making room for the small cowboy.

You are quickly slammed into, holding two crying children. You can’t understand everything they are saying, but you are getting it’s about them missing you.

You just hold them, keeping them as close as possible. You close your eyes, trying to fight back tears, wanting to be strong for your kids.

“Shh I’m here, it’s okay, I got you.”

They have a death grip on your kimono, not wanting to part from you.

You pick them up, and sit on the ground with them in your lap.

Cogita says they can stay until nightfall.

And that’s exactly what they do.

You three stay in the ancient retreat, playing tag, trainer, making dinner, and them sitting in awe at your new stories.

And you laughing at theirs.

How Gaeric slipped on ice and landed after doing three summersaults, only to take a snowball to the face.

Or how Lian tried making matching hats for his Pokémon and noble, and it going as well as you’d think.

You three laugh until the sun starts setting.

They happily eat away at their dinner.

And you feel so refreshed, the heaviness in your heart being lifted.

Maybe after all this is over, your get a place near them to visit more.

When the stars start shining the two inch closer to you, gripping your sleeves.

“Mom….do we have to go?”

Your expression softens at Sabi’s weak voice.

“Yeah, we promise to behave! Honest!”

Lian’s grip grows tighter.

“I’m sorry, it is not my place as Cogita has made it clear. But tell you what.”

They peek up as you wrap your arms around them.

“I’ll finish this up as fast as I can, and after it’s all over, I’ll teach you two how to craft things for you and your Pokémon. Deal?”

“Can we sleep over at your home too?”

You want to laugh at how in sync they can be. You smile warmly at your kids.

“Of course! And I’ll make you two your favorite.”

They cheer, hugging you once more. You kiss the tops of their heads, smiling down at the two faces beaming up at you.

“I love you mom, please stay safe.”

“Love you ma! Take care…please.”

You chuckle, your children are too sweet.

“I love you both, so much. I’ll be home before you know it.”

The slowly walk to their leaders, ready to go home.

You watched until they were out of sight.

“My, hero. You have quite the handful.”

You laugh at Cogita’s words.

“Yeah, but-“

“Your handful?”

“Haha! Yeah exactly!”

You love your children, and you will do whatever it takes to keep them safe.

[i-amtransexual]

HELLO HI FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HELLO.

It's finished I am done I am so tired and so so happy about this fic. Happy new year's @finalcontrolroom you were my gift recipient, i hope you like it! This is my gift fic as a part of the @mcytblrholidayexchange ! Tumblr version below :D

"Oh trust me," they snarled, finally standing up from where she had been sitting, xer cheeks slowly starting to return back to their normal temperature, "If I had wings I would be significantly more proficient in using them than you ever could be."

"If an incompetent as shit twat like you ever gets wings, I'll do whatever you want for a day." Tubbo said, glaring.

Ranboo scoffed. "Oh bee boy, don't go promising me something so tempting so easily," she snarked, leaning in real close and failing to notice Tubbo's shortening of breath. "I'd find far too many ways to ruin your life for good."

----------

Ranboo is so whipped for Tubbo, except she isn't, she really isn't, xe definitely hates him. Tubbo is head over heels in love but has to play along, because at least that way he gets to talk to her. Also, it’s new years and Ranboo has no idea what that is! Shenanigans shall ensue.

Author Note.

Heyyyyy sooooo *looks at that romance tag* gotta be honest not at all where I was heading with this. Was just gonna have o!Ranboo going on some silly little adventures with the theme of new years, do a bit of worldbuilding and maybe have a little bit of o!beeduo/r in the background, as a treat. However, as always, they have taken over my brain and o!Ranboo the glorious light of my life that she is, is now gonna be going on a  little trip down romance lane. Did I manage enemies to lovers? Probably not, never written it before! Hope it kinda applies though? This is getting very long, down to the point.

Hello my giftee here is the fic i have written for you. Mainly o!beeduo, i too adore o!sneeg but i could not do him justice as the main character so he had to have a smaller role i’m afraid. To make it clear, Ranboo is transfem, uses she/xer/they,  and i love xer.  Tommy uses she/him, Tubbo uses he/him, him and Tommy are both transmasc, because wahoo why not.

Hope you enjoy!

It was Sunday, and Ranboo was having a nice catnap in the sun, her tail lazily swinging back and forth as she leant against the entrance of xer cave. She heard the glow berry vines rustle above them as the wind breezed lightly into her home, and a berry fell into their claw. Surprised, xe examined it. It was a perfect specimen, skin firm, yet not tough, glowing a soft gold as all glowberries do, and with the scent of the sparkling alcoholic drink Phil was so fond of. She popped it into her mouth and let the flavour of sweet and sour wash over xer, as a popping feeling enveloped her tongue.  Their eyes were closed, and they let out a contented sigh as she savoured the smell and the taste of a glowberry perfectly in season. It is a truly wonderful moment in a lovely day, and nothing could possibly ruin it. 

Ranboo's lovely day was immediately put to a halt as she heard the frantic buzzing of wings quickly grow louder, and she opened her eyes just in time to see a panicked bee hybrid crash into her, xer crown toppling off and his goggles clattering to the ground. The both of them groaned from the collision, Ranboo attempting to raise a claw to rub her sore head, before finding to their annoyance it was tangled up in the arms of the incredibly beloathed Tubbo.

"You absolute imbecile!" she said to him angrily, arm stuck wiggling as Tubbo tried and failed to stand, before he fell onto xer again. "What good are those wings if you cannot even use them?!"

Tubbo frowned angrily back at her, his face a furious red as he tried to untangle himself from the glow berry vines he had crashed into, causing fruit to rain onto the two of them. 

"Don't fucking blame me, 'princess' " he said in a mocking tone, causing Ranboo's own face to heat angrily. "The wind changed and it being a bitch is hardly my fault. Not like you could use wings better than I could, dickhead."

Ranboo chose not to take offence to that last insult, instead preferring to fixate on Tubbo’s challenge, not that he meant to frame it as one. 

"Oh trust me," they snarled, finally standing up from where she had been sitting, xer cheeks slowly starting to return back to their normal temperature, "If I had wings I would be significantly more proficient in using them than you ever could be."

Tubbo, kneeling on the ground, still goggleless as Ranboo fixed her crown with a huff, ignored the redness of his cheeks and the pain his knees were in and simply shot back with,

"If an incompetent as shit twat like you ever gets wings, I'll do whatever you want for a day."

Ranboo scoffed. "Oh bee boy, don't go promising me something so tempting so easily," she snarked, leaning in real close and failing to notice Tubbo's shortening of breath. "I'd find far too many ways to ruin your life for good."

At a standstill, Ranboo finally noticed the now rather crushed flower garlands Tubbo had been carrying.

"What are those and why did you decide to come break them in my cave?" xe said, trying to keep her tone annoyed but accidentally letting a bit of curiosity seep through.

Tubbo looked down and cursed the strangest string of words Ranboo had ever heard, leaving her to decide it must have been a word in Apiarian, rather than Universal or Ender.

"Pissine n shettning n böllez," Tubbo muttered under his breath, gathering the broken garlands in his arms. As he used his left arm to fix his goggles back on his head, he searched with his other three to find a specific garland.

Hesitantly, almost shyly, Ranboo thought, he held out one of the garlands to xer, one that was mostly intact ,with alliums, white roses and pink tulips being held together by twine.

"Phil suggested I give you one, it wasn't my idea" Tubbo made sure to blurt out first, and Ranboo rolled her eyes as she reached and plucked it out of his arms. They spun it around, viewing it from every angle, yet for the life of her xe couldn't figure out what it was. 

"It's to celebrate for new years," Tubbo said, one hand rapidly fidgeting with his belt, the others straightening the garlands out. "Since you're new, Phil knew that you wouldn't know about our tradition in the valley, so he told me to make one for you."

Strangely touched, Ranboo tried to say thank you. However, it got over-thought about a billion times before it reached their mouth so instead the question of "What’s new years?" came out instead.

Tubbo stared at xer for a while, thoroughly puzzled before she snapped at him, embarrassed,

"Look, if you're too unknowledgeable to tell me I'll just go ask Tommy instead, since clearly she's smarter than you."

Whether Tubbo was offended by the insult of Tommy being smarter than him, or if it was the (unlikely) fact that he knew Tommy would tease her much more for it than he would, he answered her. 

"Well, we celebrate the end of this year, and the start of the new one. We all kinda have our own personal traditions around it, and Tommy at least is very serious about his week of worshipping prime, but it's mostly just about reminiscing and looking forward to things."

Before Ranboo could ask more about why the year was ending so quickly, or what Tommy's week of prime worship was about, Tubbo flew off and she was left with more questions unanswered.

Just out of listening distance, Tubbo collapsed to his knees out of breath, and cursed Wilbur to the top of the mountains and back for pushing him into the north wind and in the direction of one very pretty, and very scary, Ender princess. 

----------

"Tooommmyyyy" Ranboo called, her voice echoing off of the marble walls, as they carefully avoided the water rushing down from the ceiling. Xe was met with Wilbur, who silently and violently shushed her, before he turned back to his place in his seat and folded his wings out, keeping his eyes closed and hands held out in front of him. 

"What scam is this weirdo trying to trick me into today?" she thought, before his tail pulled her into the seat next to him. About to shout at him, Ranboo was stopped by Wilbur whispering "Just copy my posture and I'll explain once we get outside."

Very, very, hesitant, Ranboo followed suit nonetheless, and slowly xe became attuned to every noise in the building. The rushing of the waterfall was now less deafening, as each breath she and Wilbur took whispered through the room. The sound of feathers took them by surprise, and she quickly squinted one eye open to see Tommy emerging from the door at the side of the very front of the room. Feeling Wilbur's presence next to her, they shut xer eyes tightly and waited. 

Tommy, with much pomp and ceremony, looked around the room and was absolutely delighted to see a whole second person in her church to prime. Barely containing a squeal, he rushed back into the sideroom, and picking up two more of his grandchildren, she returned to her slow walk down the aisle to the only two people attending his ceremony. 

Ranboo was told she could "Open your eyes under the blessing of prime, hi Ranboo you lanky bitch hurry up hurry up hurry up look at this," and was greeted with a chicken wiggling in one claw, and a warm egg in the other.

Wilbur nudged her, with a chicken and an egg also struggling to balance themselves in his hands, and confused, she nodded at Tommy and said her thanks in time with a smirking Wilbur. Beaming, Tommy bent to kiss both the eggs, before grabbing the two chickens and stuffing both of them under each arm. She waddled up to the front of the room, and holding on to the prime symbol around her neck, he began his speech.

"Today, on the first day of the last week of a year graced by the presence of me, and blessed by many subscriptions with prime, every person is granted An Egg." Tommy's grin was stretched wide, and would have been contagious had Ranboo not been wondering why he had capitalized those last two words in speech.

"I thank you for your promise to subscribe with prime, as you all have, by volunteering yourself to care for this egg until it's last moments. Your newfound parenthood is a symbol of the birth of the new year that is to come, and I hope you are as excited to look after this child as you are for the new year. Gertude and her many grandchildren thank you for this service, and I thank you for your forever promise to care for my great grandchildren. I hope you all make me a very proud grandfather, little ones!" Tommy called, face filled with joyous rapture, before she turned heel and strode out the side door. Ranboo sat with the egg in her claw dumbfounded, before Wilbur rolled her eyes and pulled xer outside.

"That," Wilbur said to answer her as yet unasked question, "Was the first day of twitch prime week. It's Tommy's thing she does during our new years celebrations, and i'm normally the only one that goes along with it." Wilbur smiled at her, and Ranboo was struck by how genuine it seemed to be. 

"I think he was really pleased there was a second person actually there today, even if I did force you to be there." Ranboo nodded, looking closely at the egg in xer hand. 

"What is this for, exactly?" they said, gesturing to it. Wilbur laughed. "Weren't you listening?"

She bristled, ready to insult him into the next week, (or rather next year, at this point in time) but he saw the look in xer eyes and hurried along.

"It's from one of Tommy's chicken in the fucking army she seems to have bred them into. We're supposed to look after the chicken until the end of the first week of next year, then we give it back to Tommy so he can continue to have a ridiculous amount of chickens. It’s not at all a traditional prime thing, but seeing as Tommy is the only person who believes in prime that i know it’s not like i’m the expert"

Ranboo was absolutely terrified at suddenly having to care for a new life, but Wilbur was completely fine. "You don't really have to worry about it though, most of the eggs Tommy's chickens lay end up as the eggs for cooking. See?" Wilbur held his out into the sun, his hand still in the shade,  and Ranboo could see the faintest shine of yellow on the edge of the shell. "Yellow means it has a yolk, not a chicken, inside. Almost all the eggs are yellow."

Ranboo seemed torn between asking what colour her egg was, and waiting to see what Wilbur would do with his egg. She didn't have to wait long, as Jack Manifold was seen cresting over the hill and Wilbur took the chance to fade into the ground.

"Ayup Ranboo!" Jack called, and Ranboo raised a claw in greeting.

"Good noon, Jack," they said, deciding to stow the egg in her inventory for the moment. Jack nodded at her. 

"How's your new years coming along?" he asked good naturedly, planting his feet firmly in the ground, a well enough distance away that his blaze rods wouldn't accidentally catch xer hair on fire, again.

Once more, here was this unknown and terrifying "new years" that Ranboo did not at all understand. Tommy had prime, Tubbo had his weird flower things and yet neither of those explained to her what this one cohesive new years thing was at all. And, well, when xe didn't understand something, she had to fake it till she made it.

"My new year's is coming along perfectly, and far better than yours ever will," they sniffed haughtily, and internally breathed a sigh of relief when Jack seemed to take no outward offence.

"Perfect, ay? Already? You better look out for when it goes wrong, because perfect is a hard place to fall from," he said good naturedly.

"I'm gonna go drop by Niki's for a bit in the afternoon, but otherwise let me know if you need help recovering from your "perfect" new years," he laughed, giving them a wave and walking off.

Ranboo stayed just long enough to watch Wilbur pop out of a tree and crack his egg over Jack's head, where it began to sizzle and burn ferociously, before they teleported back to their cave to find a warm, safe place for their egg.

----------

"Ranboo!!! What's up!" A new day, a new morning had passed, and now at 12pm Ranboo was greeted with a very loud, and a very tipsy, Sneegsnag right in her ear. Wincing, she plucked him off her shoulder and unceremoniously dropped him to the floor, after she had properly ascended the ladder and crouched through the doorway.

"Good to see you Sneeg," she replied, sitting on the ground next to the tiny table that he had set up.

"Raaaaaaanboo!! Helo!" Fundy also greeted xer, a jug of mead in hand and his cheeks somehow redder than usual.

Ranboo, though still unsure why any being with a brain would choose to intoxicate themselves in such a way that their body and brain were poisoned, for fun,  was glad that they had chosen mead to drink, as it had the least unpleasant smell of all the alcohols she had thus far encountered.

"So since everyone here seems to be carried away with this “new years” thing" xe said, shaking a few leaves out of her hair and barely avoiding hitting her head on a lower hanging branch, "Will the two of you care to explain what tradition this is?"

"Well," Sneeg and Fundy began, before they both glanced at each other and burst into drunken laughter. As Sneeg’s fork accidently got flung against the room and planted itself into the trunk near her head, Ranboo wondered why she had bothered to come over.

"There was a realm i came from" Sneeg started, before snorting and having to start again. "Called RLcraft, and Fundyyyyyy, joined me once or twice."

"You were bigger then," Fundy shouted, for some reason, even though he was but a few feet away, "Old age has made him shrink already, itty little bug boy."

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

Ranboo sniffed, pretending to turn up her nose at the unsightly behavior of the two, but secretly they found it very entertaining, and were planning to take notes. For completely innocent purposes of course.

"Hey RANboo, did sneeg ever tell you, about the time we fought a… a what was, a tower guardian?" Fundy was thoroughly drunk, making his words slurry and blurred together but this question intrigued Ranboo.

"We were drunkasshit, then too," Sneeg remarked, the middle of his sentence an incoherent mess of sounds.

Ranboo decided to simply watch the two as they bantered back and forth, listening with great interest as they reminisced. Sneeg, for all she knew was a capable and devious little guy, apparently also had a lot of experience surviving in one the most dangerous servers known, or "realm" as he incorrectly labled it.

"Youknow," sneeg yawned, "I used to do this every year with my buddy Union, before i fucked off to here."

"The blue guy?" Fundy asked, barely awke.

"Bitch, I'm the blue guy. But yeahhhh," a large yawn, "it'sa pretty good newyeard tradition. Always fun tryig to fight a sea serpent when you’re not so-” a giant yawn,”sober."

"Raaahn… boo. what're you do for new year's?" Fundy's question shook Ranboo out of the quiet contentment she had been sitting in, and she pondered the query for a while.

"I guess the closest ender holiday that's equivalent to the "new years" celebration, is The Great Sleep," Ranboo said, eyes taking on a far away look. "A year in the end seemed to last about 7 or so of the years here, so I guess that's why I was so surprised when it was drawing so close so early."

Tubbo, who had been heading to Sneeg's to ask if he had any wax he could use, slowed down as he heard her voice and quietened his footsteps, before he paused just outside the entrance.

"It sounds kind of ominous, but it wasn't, really." She said, with intense longing in her voice. "After 7 years guarding us, well, the current dragon always got very tired, you know, and they deserved a break. So, a long time ago, we established The Great Sleep. The ruler would announce that The End was to go into a period of rest, and that they would begin the Change Over, and once they awoke, the year would begin once more."

"So, the dragon would go to sleep, in a special area where time was frozen for them, and the ruler, in my case my mother, would take their place for at least 7 days, but normally no longer than a month.  We would always hope against hope that, of course, no overworlders would try to come and challenge us during that time, but the void always seemed on our side during The Great Sleep."

"Since coming up here, I have heard tales, at least from Phil, of the luck for an end raid always being especially bad every 7 years or so, of ender eyes breaking at an alarming rate, the stronghold being deep underwater, or surrounded by lava, of having no eyes at all left in the portal, of the room being nigh impossible to find. During The Great Sleep, I could never stay at rest for longer than a day or two, so I would spend every night watching through the portal in the temple, my mother circling the portal to the overworld, looping through the towers and I watched in fascination. For there are no other endariens or endermen on that island during The Great Sleep, and she would always seem so very alone."

Ranboo sighed, and Tubbo wished that he could give her a hug, but fear of being found out held him back.

"Normally by day 6 or 7 or so, the rest of my family had joined me, and at least by the 10th day most of the rest of the empire would have woken. But we weren't allowed to leave our homes to see others, or to party or celebrate or worship even. We could do all that in our own homes, with family and friends that lived with us, but it was truly a period of, just resting."

Xe leant her head back against the tree trunk, deep in thought. 

"I suppose it has something to do with the fact that endermen and endariens don't sleep." And, far quieter than before, they admitted, "And, I suppose, I'm not really a proper one of either of them, so that's why I am so weak and have to sleep every few days, rather than months."

"But there's still a part of me that deeply misses it," she said, "We would have Chorus fruit juice on the first day of the ruler's return, and then there would be a party during however long the ruler's rest period was." Xe grew quiet, and Tubbo could hear her fiddling with her bracelets, the gold and iron clinking in the relative silence. "It's funny to think it's stuck with me for so long but," they gave out a little laugh, "I still know how to make the banners, and the recipe to make the chorus juice fizz. That was my favourite trick that mother taught me."

Xe was interrupted by a colossal snore from Sneeg, followed by a quieter "snork… mimimimimi…." from Fundy, who had curled up on his chair, hat having fallen to the ground. 

"So neither of you two were even listening. Wonderful." She got up, brushed a few leaves from xer dress and teleported outside, not irritated to bother with the ladder. They then immediately fell onto Tubbo, for the second time in two days.

“URGH!” she cried, incredibly irritated as she stood up and smoothed out her dress, ears hot from embarrassment, (nothing else) “What is with you always being in my way, you idiot!’

“H-hey!” Tubbo replied angrily, face flushed and fists balled up, “You're the one who teleported into me this time, so that’s not fair.”

“W-well,” they stuttered, cheeks growing as warm as their ears, “It’s not my fault you’re so easy to miss! You should just get taller.”

Instead of continuing to argue, Tubbo froze for a moment before he burst into laughter. “Y-you” he laughed so much his hand swerve holding his stomach, “you sound j-just like Tommy, ha!”

“Well,” xe sniffed, ‘perhaps Tommy is right for once. If you were taller, t-then it would be much more difficult o run into you.”

Suddenly, Tubbo was hovering in front of her face grinning, his wing s a blur this close to them. “Awww,” he cooed as her face finally started to turn a dark shade of purple, “You almost sound like you’d miss running into me.”

They both stayed there for a moment, Tubbo grinning triumphantly at her and Ranboo completely and utterly flustered, before they squeaked out a “shut up!” and pushed his face away with her claw.

Before Tubbo could reply. she teleported away, pulse racing, but only because he had now seen her in an unseemly situation twice, not because his face was so very close to xer’s, o-or because he smelt like the beginning of spring and new flowers, or because his laugh sounded like the bells that rung out with a sweet tune every hour. C-certainly not that at all.

---------

Very pleased with the outcome of their conversation, Tubbo made his way into Sneeg’s tree, to find both him and Fundy passed out. Shrugging, tubbo rumaged through the chests, found what he needed and left Sneeg a sign with 

“took some wax and strinf, thabk’s bossman!” 

before he flew up and off to the Pub(e).

He dumped the resources in the nearest chest before he quickly went on the hunt for Phil, an idea in his head and a nervous feeling in his heart.

‘Phil? You here?” he called, and received an

“In here, mate!” from Phil’s office in the Pub(e). 

Taking a deep breath, he whispered to himself “This isn’t for her, because I don't care about her, i-it’s just cause she seemed sad, and it’d be kind to do this. “ Knocking on the door, he opened it wide and strode in.

----------

It was the third day of prime week, and Ranboo had managed to avoid Tommy’s latest service with a warning from Wilbur on xer communicator.

Wilbur whispered to you: I know I said Tommy would appreciate you coming to all of his service but do not fucking come today. She’s planning to make us make hats out of all the feathers his chickens shed, and we have to wear them all. Fucking. Day. Or he’ll cry and then Phil will get involved so just don’t. Plus he wants a diamond for entry so save your money and go see Niki or smth.

You whispered to Wilbur: Noted.

You whispered to Wilbur: …. Thanks

Ranboo had finished doing her hair, and she decided agasint wearing any of her horn jewllrey for the day. Xe was going to see Niki, and if she had to take a water resistant potion every 8 minutes that she was there, she wasn’t going to bother with a lot of fancy clothes. Just about to teleport down the mountain, her eye caught on the garland Tubbo had given her, now lying on top of her chest. They didn’t know why, but they decided to take it with xer when she went to see Niki.

“Hello Ranboo!” Niki called cheerfully, her hand waving above the water. Ranboo raised and a claw in greeting back and replied 

“Good afternoon Niki. How has your day been?”

‘How nice of you to ask!” Niki said brightly, swimming a little closer to the dock. “I saw the sunrise this morning, and it was very lovely. Jack also stopped by to hand me the wreath Tubbo had made me.”

Ranboo was very thankful xe had brought her own “wreath” as Niki had called it, with her. 

‘I received one of those from Tubbo as well,” she said, sitting cross legged at the end of the wooden dock. “A-and, I was wondering if perhaps you knew why he gives these out?’

Before Niki could reply Ranboo added “He told me it was Phil’s idea, but i have a feeling that it’s not.”

Niki laughed at that. 

“What a weird thing to say. No, Tubbo has done that every year we’ve been here. It’s an Apian thing, something about flowers symbolising their love to carry you through to the next year. Apian culture is very romantic.”

“L-love?” Ranboo squeaked, thoroughly surprised, her ears flushing. “B-ut why would T-Tubbo give me-”

“Oh no no, don’t worry” Niki laughed, “Tubbo told us when he first gave them out that everyone gives them to eveyrone, romantic or family or friends. Besides, there’s only certain kinds of flowers that are romantic, you know? They all have different meanings. I’ll go get mine to show you.”

Niki dove underwater, a large splash making the dock rock slightly and spattered Ranboo with water. She gave a small yelp at the coldness of it, but was very glad she had had a water resistant potion before she had come down to see Niki.

There was a disruption in the water and Niki’s head popped back up above the surface, grinning widely with all her pointed teeth on display.

“Sorry,” she grinned cheekily as Ranboo glared at her, trying their best to intimidate Niki, for all that xe looked like a bedraggled cat. “I knew you had taken a potion, and I just couldn't resist the opportunity.”

“So did you find your wreath or was that just an excuse to get me soggy?” Ranboo snapped, very displeased.

Niki giggled. “It’s right here.”

She held up a wreath that shone with an enchantment, most certainly a water resistant charm, made up of orange and white tulips, also held together with twine, with glow berries dispersed throughout.  

“You know, it’s quite funny,” she said laying it down on the edge of the dock as Ranboo marvelled at craftmenship of the wreath. 

“Phil got me a book of flower meanings for my birthday last year becuase i had started to get into gardening,” she said, her tail lazily swishing from side to side and creating ripples. 

“And I remembered it this year when Tubbo gave me my wreath, but it was so strange. “

“What was?” Ranboo asked, starting to get a little impatient with how long Niki was taking to get to her point.

“Well, flowers are a huge part of Apian culture, and when I asked him once Tubbo told me that flower meanings were a very prominent too. So I’m sure he used that when making the wreaths, but I don’t really understand what he’s trying to say.”

“Well, what’s so confusing about your wreath?” Ranboo asked, “It certainly looks very nice.”

“Yes,” Niki nodded in agreement, as she pulled a small book out from seemingly thin air, “But the white tulips mean forgiveness and purity,” she said as she flipped ot a page, “And for one i don’t know whether he’s asking me to forgive him for something, or saying i’m very pure? One is confusing and the other just feels quite insulting.”

Ranboo agreed.

“As for the orange tulips, it says here that they mean “a sense of understanding between two people”, which makes me think the white are for forgiveness. But i have just no clue what I’m supposed to be forgiving him for!”

Her tail thwacked the surface of the lake with that and sprayed over Ranboo’s hair, leaving xer soggier than before. Ranboo’s sputters going unnoticed, Niki went on.

“And with glowberries meaning excitement, but not celebration, which would make sense for new years, i’m stumped on what he trying to tell me.”

Attempting to shake some of her hair dry, Ranboo asked, “I did come to ask if you might know what my wreath meant, but it seems i will end up with just as puzzling an outcome as you did.”

“Well,” Niki said brightly, “If it’s not insulting, hopefully it will end up being rather funny instead. Bring it out here.”

A little shyly, Ranboo retrieved her wreath from xer inventory, and held it gently in her claws.

“Oooh, that one’s really nice!” Niki said, reaching out for it, until Ranboo held it back, her cheeks flushing with heat. “It’s, ah, just a little broken is all. It fell a few times.”

Niki nodded, and had a good look from a distance away. '`I'm very surprised though, II’ve never seen him use any of those flowers in his wreaths before!’

Ranboo’s heart skipped a beat at that, but their brain turned to reason and xe scoffed. 

“He’s probably insulted me in a million different ways then,” She snapped, with a toss of her hair, attempting to show indifference. But Niki watched how tightly xe held on to the flowers, and with a knowing smile decided to keep her comments to herself.

“Pink tulips are a symbol of good luck, and white roses signify loyalty.”

The two sat in silence for a moment as they stewed it over. 

‘That’s not quite insulting or a complement” Niki said, re reading over the page.

“I suppose good luck could be an insult, but what is he saying I’m bad at?” Ranboo furrowed her brow, “ And as for loyalty, it sounds like a compliment, but even if I were to take it as an insult it just doesn’t make sense at all! I feel like he has to be insulting me, somehow.”

Niki interjected “Well,  if i can find the page with alliums, perhaps we can figure this out.”

Ranboo sat in tense silence as Niki flipped through the pages. Why did this matter so much to xer? It was only Tubbo, after all, a-and she hated him anyway, so why should it matter what he thought of her? Why should it matter that he had spent the time to create something that looked so beautiful and must have taken a lot of effort, especially for them? Why did the thought of him, carefully growing and picking flowers with her in mind bring such a flush to her face, the image of his eyes, bright and concentrated and blue as the sky on her favourite days of winter, make her ears go hot and her heart race?  I-if he hated xer as much as she really, really definitely hated him, then why would he-

“Ah, here it says alliums mean patience and humility.”

Ranboo bristled, gripping the wreath a lot more angrily than before. “That self absorbed, donkey brained, smart aleck little twit!” She shouted, jumping to her feet, casting the wreath to the dock.  

“How, how dare he tell me, that I need patience? That I need humility?” Xe was breathing heavily, feeling her ears heat with anger now, fists balled up tight. 

“What kind of a pathetic snivelling coward is he that he can’t even look me in the eyes and say it to my face! The utter arrogance he has, to think he is so above me that he, h-he’s probably laughing at me now,  th-thinking he’s won!” She paced back and forth, incensed. 

“Ohhhhh, I should have crushed that stupid wreath the moment he gave it to me, that prick. I’m going to put that complete asshole in his place, ahole in the ground like the peasant he is. FLACS LEN!,  he just makes me want to scream, that- that utter dickhead!”

“Ayup Niki! Hiya Ranboo!” Jack Manifold’s voice made it’s way to the two of them, and Ranboo, now having to try her best to calm down, turned to him trying to keep a “glower off of her face, shoving her wreath into her inventory and sitting down grumpily.

“Hi Jack!” Niki replied brightly. Jack made his way over to them and sat down a little ways away from them both.

“What’ve you two been up to this fine summer's day?” He said good naturedly.

“Oh, we were just discussing the wreaths Tubbo made us.” Niki said, holding hers up, the scent of the tulips carrying on the breeze.

Jack gave a low whistle as he saw Niki’s wreath. “Gee, that’s a much nicer one than what he gave me!” he said, admiring the blooms.

“Oh, was yours made with wither roses?” Niki joked.

Jack laughed. “Oh no, I mean he made it well! It’s just that it’s meaning was essentially “you have forgotten how to be humble. Get better.” I have a feeling Tommy was part of that. I was reading between the lines a bit but when I asked he told me as such to my face.”

Niki laughed whilst Ranboo fumed inside. If Tubbo could be bothered to insult Jack Manifold and tell him upfront, why couldn’t he show the same base level of respect to xer? 

“But really Niki, he’s given yours such a nice meaning, I didn’t think he had it in him. “ Jack remarked.

As Niki and Ranboo looked very confused at this statement, Jack continued hurriedly, “ The orange tulips mean good fortune, right? And the white ones mean wisdom, and the glow berries are for cheerfulness. Stop looking at me like that!” He laughed.

“What, are you confused that he gave you a compliment? I mean, I am a bit surprised too-”

‘Oh no no, Jack,” Niki said, shaking her head, passing her book along to Jack. “I’m just really confused as to how you got those meanings! See, i got this book of flower meanings from Phil last year and mine says something quite different.”

“Oh that’s cause your’s isn’t the Apian flower meaning!” Jack said, turning it over carefully. “I got curious about what my wreath meant last year, so i looked up a book in the library about it.”

“How do you still remember all the meanings though?” Ranboo asked, tail swishing in fascination.

“Well, the book was really interesting and had some other stuff about Apian culture and a few other societies from the Northernmost Area, and well, since everyone here is so different, it'd be helpful to know stuff wouldn’t it? I though i should at least memorise the flower stuff as that would be easy and might come in handy, as it has. ” Jack said,handing Niki her book back.

“And since James is still building the library, I thought I’d just keep the book until he noticed it was gone. And he’s a thoroughly shit librarian cause I’ve had it far past it’s return date. I can lend it to you if you want.”

“Awesome!” Niki said, grinning. “Do you think you could tell us what Ranboo’s wreath means?” she continued, angling her head in Ranboo’s direction.

Ranboo snorted. “It’s probably something thoroughly insulting, no doubt,” xe snipped, still very irritated with the whole affair, but she handed her wreath over to Jack anyway.

They turned away, almost scared of what the wreath would mean. After almost a minute of excruciating silence and hushed whispers, they had to look back at the other two, who were both trying very hard to hold back a laugh.

“What!” she snapped, and Niki started giggling. Feeling xer ears heat, she began to think of the worst insults they could use before Jack interrupted.

“No,  really Ranboo, honest, he’s given you a very nice meaning. We were just, um, not quite expecting it.”

“W-well, what is it?” She said, growing impatient.

“Seems Tubbo has given you a love letter with flowers” Niki giggled, and Ranboo’s heart stopped.

“... What?” she said faintly, ears flushing furiously.

“Well,” Jack said, trying not to grin. “He’s given you white roses to mean “new love”,”

Ranboo’s face was ferociously hot, as she tried to not let either of them read her face and failed miserably.

“Alliums mean adoration, gosh he’s such a sap isn’t he?” Jack continued, sending Niki into a fit of giggles.

Ranboo wrapped their tail around her arm as she tried to not let it wave in excitement, and her face felt like it was on fire.

“And finally, pink tulips mean true love and promises.” Jack was fully grinning now, and Niki was beside herself.

Ranboo was blushing a deep purple, and all thoughts of “putting him in his place” had flown far, far away from her mind.

They sat in silence, attempting to come to terms with this new information she had been given.

“W-well,” she stuttered, “th-thats, certainly s-something i suppose..” Xe couldn't even look at the other two because she knew what their expressions would be.

“So, you gonna ask him about it?” Niki teased and Ranboo decided xe had had enough. 

“Well! Th-thank you both very much for helping me, i-i’ve got to be going now. Bye!” 

With that, she stuffed her wreath into their inventory and used what remaining energy they had left to teleport all the way back home.

Jack and Niki took one look at each other before they both burst into a fit of laughter.

“Remember the time Tommy told you to give me a bouquet of roses for Valentines?” Niki giggled. Jack’s face screwed up, before he started laughing.

“Oh yes, because apparently I have the romantic charm of a dead bug, and that I really needed help, as he so kindly put it” Jack said.

Niki burst into peals of laughter. “Oh Jack, “ she sung, “You’re a lovely guy but I'd rather go for a nice long swim in lava than date you.”

Jack held a hand to his heart. “Oh Niki, “ he simpered, “ You flatter me so. I must say, if I ever had to date you I would rather help Charlie clean all the slime out of his tank.”

They both shuddered at that.

“Let’s hope Tommy never forces us to go on a date then,” Niki said.

“That, would probably be best,” Jack agreed.

----------

It was now the last day of the year, the imminent “New years” only a few hours away, and Ranboo had not left their cave since the incident with Jack and Niki at the dock 4 days prior.  A slightly worried Philza had come past, and asked if xe was feeling unwell, but she threw an empty book at him and shouted at him to go away. He had gotten the message.

Ranboo had spent 4 days in her cave, ignoring Wilbur’s messages about Tommy’s week of prime, thankfully not having to dodge any messages or visits from Sneeg or Fundy as the two had decided to go spend a few days back at Sneeg’s old “realm” after getting thoroughly drunk and reminiscing, and Jack and Niki, seeing as they knew what they knew, had thought it best to leave xer alone for a while.

And now it was 8pm on the last day of the year, and Ranboo really couldn't avoid it any longer. “It” being the problem of Tubbo, whom she had found that maybe, awfully, hopefully, she didn’t entirely hate. Oh who was she kidding, he had confessed that he was in love with her and apparently xe had only just realised she felt the same. Now, she held the power in this situation, and yet she was far more afraid. Xe had to go to the celebration tonight, more out of fear of what Tommy and Wilbur would do to her tomorrow if she didn’t, by=ut she desperately didn’t want to face Tubbo.

“Maybe” they thought to themself as they anxiously put the finishing touches on her outfit, “ I can just show up, exchange whatever gifts I need to and leave before he notices me.”

During their 4 days of alone time, they had written up a formidable list of “new years” gifts they had to get, and had decided to get everyone the same thing, with variations for each person’s own style.

As she looked in the mirror, xe froze and her cheeks flushed. When had they decided to wear that dress? Definitely not because Tubbo had complimented it once. She pushed that thought to the back of xer mind and checked their invitation again.

'`PARTY AT THE PUB(E)!’ it said, scrawled in Tommy’s handwriting. “BE THERE OR BE A BITCH!” Underneath, in a much neater font, Wilbur had written. “The celebrations will go on for god knows how long, but please try to arrive from 7 - 8:30 so everyone can exchange gifts, and those who need to sleep can join in on time for their sleep schedules.”

Checking the clock, which read 8:25 now, Ranboo took a deep breath to still xer racing heart, and teleported to the top of the Pub(e). However, instead of being greeted with noise and music and partying and laughter, as she had expected, there was silence.

As xe cautiosuly open her eyes, she was then greeted with a giant shout of “HAPPY END OF THE YEAR!” and was then barrelled over by a very excited Tommy.

‘RANBOO MY FAVOURITE STUCK UP DICKHEAD! Look at the decorations we did, I helped the most, do you really like that juice stuff that much? I tried some and it sucked balls-” 

Tommy was rambling very excitedly, her feathers all puffed up and her eyes bright with what Ranboo guessed was sugar.

“Yes yes Tommy, good to see you too-” She began, not having listened to his previous rambling, when she stood up and was shocked by what she saw.  

Garlands of various shades and patterns in purple were strung across the beams that were built into the roof of the Pub(e), and small lanterns with Ender symbols on them were hanging about the room. There was a large bowl of punch that had the soft, sour scent of chorus fruit, and the fruit itself garnished cupcakes that sat on the table. At the very centre of the roof, there hung a paper ender dragon, with glitter on it’s wings and two small amethyst shards for it’s eyes. In the centre of the room, the tree of prime had an enderman sitting atop it, and it was adorned with all things purple. 

“Sooo…,” Phil said, his eyes wrinkling in that way they did when he was trying not to smile because he was very pleased with himself.

“A little bee told me about some celebrations you have in The End, and although I know it’s not quite the right time for you, I thought you might appreciate something more familiar this year, seeing as it’s your first time celebrating  new years with us.”

Everyone else had already started the celebrations, conversations being loud and rambunctious, with a few people drifting over to the food table, and a couple more adding their presents under the prime tree.

“What do you think?” Phil said, smiling at her.

In a strangled voice she replied “I-it’s… nice.”

Phil grinned delightedly. “Do you really think so? We put in so much effort, but I can’t take all the credit. It was Tubbo’s idea after all.”

“...Pardon?” Ranboo croaked, her heart racing at the mention of his name. “What did T-Tubbo do?”

“Oh he told me he heard you talking about this and that about The End and he got a few ideas.. But why don’t you talk to him yourself! Tubbo, mate!” Phil waved Tubbo over, who looked a little nervous but nowhere near close to how Ranboo felt. Xe cursed Phil a million times over in her head, casting as many threats of eternal suffering on him as possible as they glared at his retreating back.

“Uhm, so, hi?” Tubbo said, and Ranboo snapped back to look at him, before she promptly flushed and looked away.

In the continuing silence, Tubbo attempted to fill the awkwardness.

“I hope you don’t mind that I uh, kinda overheard you talking to Sneeg the other day,” Tubbo stumbled over his words. “I really hope you don’t think I’m weird, I just  thought, well, i-it’s your first new years with us, and we’ve done heaps of celebrations from everyone else’s homes, s-so I thought it would be fair?”

Ranboo had yet to reply to him, but xe hadn’t started shouting at him either, so he took it as a good sign.

“But yeah! Tommy and Wilbur especially got really excited when Phil asked them to help out. Techno made the dragon! A-and Phil and Tommy and I made the banners. Beau offered to help make food, and Wilbur made the chorus fruit punch, so if it’s really bad that’s why sorry. I uh, didn’t know much about End customs and the book I got, wasn’t that helpful, but I hope it’s alright? And that I haven’t accidentally offended you?-’ Tubbo’s anxious rambling was cut off as he heard a sizzling sound, and he turned in alarm to see that Ranboo was crying.

“Shi! Fuck, Ranboo I’m so sorry, fuck fuck fuck where are the bandages,” Tubbo grabbed her by the claw and dragged them into the kitchen, and he started rummaging around in the drawers. 

“Here!’ he said as he flung a tea towel at their head, and grabbed the first aid box. “Uh, just hold that to your face, and try to st-stop crying? Sorry.” Seeing as they had grabbed a bit of attention from the other people at the party, Niki and Phil in particular looking on worriedly, Tubbo suggested, “H-how about we head outside?”

Ranboo nodded, and thankful to finally have a response from xer, he once again grabbed their hands and pulled them outside, to sit on a bench overlooking the crater, the music from inside muffled.

Tubbo took his time applying the burn cream to their face and carefully placing the healing enchantments on her skin.

“There, that should be all good,” he said, relieved, and then he noticed how close he was to her face. Ranboo looked him in the eyes, and flushing, they both turned away from each other awkwardly.

Neither of them said a word for a while, listening to the chatter and laughter from inside, the awkward silence slowly being filled in by the music drifting outside on the breeze.

“Thank you,” Ranboo whispered. Surprised Tubbo turned to see them looking right at him, ears a dark purple and clawss fidgeting.

‘God she’s really pretty,” he thought, his own face a bright red.

“It was n-nothing, don’t worry-” he began before they interrupted him.

“It wasn’t nothing,” xe said, her claw finding his hand, and Tubbo’s heart skipped a beat as he zeroed in on every single moment of this conversation. “Obviously, thank you for the bandages,” she said, laughing a little, and oh how his heart fluttered when xe laughed. Her voice was like starlight. And he knew he was down bad when he preferred to hear xer cursing him than to hear nothing at all.

“I, I wanted to say thank you, f-for all this, though” they said quietly.

“It wasn’t anything really-” Tubbo said, laughing awkwardly.

“Shut up.” Ranboo said quietly. “It, it was something, to me. I, just,” And now she was crying again, and fucking hell did it hurt. 

“Here!” Tubbo said, grabbing a towel soaked in healing potion. 

He held it under her eyes as xe tried their best to compose xerself.

“Thank you, Tubbo” she said, as he blushed, still holding her face. 

“I guess I hadn’t quite realised, j-just how much I missed home. And, and the fact th-that you’d put so much effort into th-” a hiccup, “ i-into this, for me, I don’t know what to say, except… thank you.”

The two stared at each other, the music now picking up full swing inside, and they heard a shout and a crash, probably Tommy.

“I found out what the flowers meant,” Ranboo whispered, taking the bandage from xer face and smiling at him.

Tubbo’s heart dropped. ‘Y-you did?” he squeaked, palms sweating,  fingers tightly clutching his shirt, his lower hands now desperately trying not to fidget.

“Yes.” Ranboo smiled and Tubbo hoped, that maybe, maybe maybe maybe, it meant something good.

“It was a very nice wreath. I really liked it.” she remarked.

“I really like you,” Tubbo thought as she leaned in a little closer. “Please, please, don’t let this be her making fun of me. I don’t want to cry in front of xer today.”

“W-well, I did spend a lot of time on it,” Tubbo admitted. Quietly, he added, “And I made sure your’s was the prettiest.”

“I think you’re the prettiest,” Ranboo said, both of xer claws now holding his, and his heart stopped. Ranboo’s face was dark purple, and Tubbo was sure that his was redder than Tommy’s plumage.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurted out.

“Yes” Ranboo whispered, xer clawcradling his cheek.

They both leaned, Tubbo’s hand holding her claw, their eyes slowly closing-

“TUBBO IT’S GIFTING TIME, COME ON HURRY UP” Tommy screeched from inside, and two broke apart.

“U-uh, yeah, we’re coming Tommy!” Tubbo shouted back.

They sat for a moment, until the absolute awful horrible awkwardness of th situation was too much to bear.

Avoiding Ranboo’s gaze Tubbo jerked his thumb in the direction of the doorway as he stood up.  ‘W-well, you heard her, we should probably go-”

Ranboo walked over to him, bent down and kissed him on the cheek, his sentence stopping as his brain short circuited. 

“Come on Tubbo, you wouldn’t want to keep Tommy waiting,” xe grinned at him, before sweeping past him and walking inside.

Tubbo, completely flustered, took a moment to bury his face in his hands, before composing himself and going to join Ranboo in the Pub(e).

----------

“Ranboo! Tubso!” Tommy crowed in delight, running up to the two of them, her wings puffed up in excitement. “You guys were out there for ages, it’s gift giving time! C’mon c’mon!” He then grabbed both of their hands and dragged them towards the prime tree, where they were both roughly shoved to a sitting position on the ground whilst Tommy sat in between them and demanded as much attention as possible.

Phil surveyed the room from the rafters, watching people take their sweet time getting to the gifting circle and decided the hour was near. 

“Techno, ring the bell!” He called, and Techno promptly did as he was ordered,  a clanging ringing out across the room.

“Crowfather is askin’ for attention, an’ I wanna go to sleep, so everyone hurry up!” Techno called, his ears twitching, and anyone who had yet to be seated hurried to the circle. Techno took his place in between Niki and Wilbur, and all was hushed.

Philza swooped down from the rafters to laughter and applause, along with Tommy squeezing both Tubbo and Ranboo’s claws until they went numb.

“Hey mates,” Phil said, having donned a fancier hat for the occasion of New Years, and his homemade “Crow Father” tie made by Tommy when she was young. He held a bright purple shulker box, which he placed on the ground.

“Now, as you all know this is our little tradition, where I give out gifts that are better than all of yours and i do it in a fancier way,” that got  a few laughs, “and this year I just wanted to acknowledge that the celebration we decided to theme this new years after was The Great Sleep, which as one of the major End holidays, I’m sure Ranboo can tell you all about.”

Ranboo, a little embarrassed at now having so many eyes on them, stilled her face and tried to look bored, but Tubbo saw xer tail waving surreptitiously.

“And now with that acknowledged, we go on to my portion of the gift giving!” Phil said with a smile, and he started to hand out a bundle of presents.

Tommy received a specially knitted scarf for his eggs, with warming and protection enchantments sewn in, and he chirped with joy, wigs flapping up and down and banging into Tubbo and Ranboo, feathers going everywhere. Tubbo was handed a new toolset, with a few extra hard to find pieces to build that one specific contraption he’d been rambling to Tommy about for weeks, and the look on his face when he saw it was enough to make Ranboo’s heart explode. 

And finally, Ranboo received a book. The outside was a beautifully dyed leather like material, the colour swirling shades of silver and purple. It had a metal clasp, and the pages were made of the finest, most wonderful paper Ranboo had ever seen. Inside was a quill, the feather one of Tommy’s most beautiful, a bright red with flecks of gold and white edges.

“Even though Will has apologised for the incident with the other book earlier this year,” Phil said, “I thought it was a shame you had to get rid of such a nice book, and I thought you might appreciate a nice replacement.”

Ranboo couldn’t cry again, not after the amount of enchantments that had already been used to heal xer face.

“It is a very suitable replacement” xe said, barely containing their smile. “I would think it of high enough calibre to be better than the old one.”

Phil grinned, and she knew he had understood.

The gifting went on, Ranboo giving each person her gift and receiving a lot in turn. Xe had made everyone a piece of jewellery, some people a bracelet, others a necklace if it suited them, and more specialised pieces for her closer friends. For Wilbur, she had made a hanging charm to attach to his sunhat, and then she had to deal with his blubbering as she patted him on the back and avoided getting burnt. 

For Tommy, there was a specific anklet, that was very, very resistant, and waterproof, and fireproof, and wouldn’t get worn by time as quickly as anything else Tommy wore normally would. For xer efforts she was gifted a faceful of feathers and screeching, but at least they knew that to be signs of their friend’s excitement.

Jack had received some earring studs, which he immediately wore with pride, and began boasting to Niki about how handsome they made him. Niki ignored him in favour of profusely thanking Ranboo for her nose piercing  that had the tiniest, shiniest amethyst shard glimmering in it. Techno received a silver crown with amethysts, to add to his ever growing collection, to which he responded with a tight hug and a “This is nice. Thanks.”

Ranboo had yet to give Tubbo his present, but she had no time to worry on that when she was receiving a hat for her egg from Tommy, a collection of glass bottles with fancy detailing and gems as cork stoppers from Wilbur, a truly glorious collection of (dry) pieces of gold and interesting antiquities Niki had found in an abandoned ship,  soft, knitted socks from Techno, a small lute from Freddy, a basket made of reeds and full of (possibly either burnt or undercooked) muffins from Beau, and a wink and a nudge from Jack as he handed her “The Complete and Utter guide to Apia: all about the customs, language and culture of the Apian Society.”

“You should read chapter 14 first,” He said, grinning. “I think you’ll find it the most interesting.”

(And, if later that night, Ranboo did turn to “Chapter 14: How to win (and be won over) by a member of the most romantic culture in the world” and read that first, well who was to know?)

----------

Somehow, Ranboo and Tubbo found themselves outside again, all alone, yet to have given each other a present.

“Well,” thought Tubbo, “It’s now or never, or tomorrow when it might be really awkward and  I have ruined things, so best to get it over and done with.”

“Here,” he said, giving her a velvet box. “I, uh hope it’s up to standard.”

Curiously, Ranboo inspected the box. A smooth black velvet on the outside, no clasp and no signs at all of a maker’s signature. Shrugging to themself, xe opened it. Inside was a necklace, made of silver and as thin and fine as cobwebs.  It  looped endlessly, looking like a layer of lace, with small ovals of obsidian in between, polished beyond perfection to make it shine and glimmer in the low light. At it’s centre, there was an oval circled in silver, inside an emerald and a ruby, cut into perfect shape, and both matching the exact shading of her eyes.

“I know you already have a lot of jewellery, but i haven’t seen you wear much silver stuff so...” Tubbo trailed off, his boot scuffing on the ground. 

“I love it,” Ranboo breathed, xer eyes as wide as moonstones. They traced their fingers over each individual loop of silver, each piece of obsidian, the pendant in the centre, the whole thing shimmering with the faintest light of enchantment.

“This is, this isi gorgeous,” she said, absolutely enthralled. “Where did you get it? I have to talk to whoever made this, it-it’s perfect!” xe said, turning to him and leaning in close. Tubbo gulped, leaning back a little as his wings started to flutter. 

“Ah,” he said shyly, hiding behind his fringe. “Uh, I made it.”

“Oh.” Ranboo said, and they blushed, internally cursing herself for xer earnestness.

“W-well, Tubbo, it’s, really lovely.” Xe smiled, and Tubbo couldn’t help himself from grinning, his wings fluttering as he began to float. 

“I’m so glad you like it,” he whispered.

Ranboo smiled, xer pulse racing. He really was so beautiful.

“Oh, uh, your present, I should probably” Ranboo muttered as xe remembered, carefully tucking the box into her inventory, “Uh, where is it,” xe searched through her pockets until they found it.

“This is for you,” Ranboo said, pulling out a bouquet of blooming pink tulips. They were in a wonderfully crafted vase, made of all shades of stained glass, and tied around it was a matching pink bow.

As Tubbo accepted it, his face unreadable, Ranboo nervously added “I put an anti-aging charm on them, s-so they shouldn’t die for quite a while hopefully.”

Tubbo placed the vase on the bench, and hovering a little higher, he held Ranboo’s face in both his hands, his lower pair grabbing her claws. 

Gently, he placed a kiss on her forehead. “I think you figured it out, but in case you couldn’t tell, I really like you,” he whispered, and Ranboo flushed, laughing at the surprise. 

Xe pressed a light kiss to his lips, and he went from pink to red. ‘In case you couldn’t tell,” she teased as he stuttered, “I really like you as well.”

Light exploded in the distance, and they both watched as the fireworks started, a cascade of gold and silver light pouring down the sky.

“How do those work?” Ranboo wondered aloud, as red and purple light flashed up above.

“OH!” Tubbo said excited, “You, see, it’s actually quite interesting, Phil told me about it-” He stopped as xe stared at them

“Wh-why are you looking at me like that?” he laughed.

Ranboo grinned and shook her head. “I love when you get all excited about explaining things.” She said, and xe leaned forwards to kiss him again.

“Thank you for making new years so fun.” Ranboo laughed. 

Tubbo grinned. “I look forward to celebrating it again with you next year.”

The sky was filled with colour, and Ranboo decided that, even if she still didn’t fully get what new years was, xe was so glad she was celebrating it with the people they loved.

End Note.

oogity boogity my computer has been broken since before the last gift exchange bejeezus. Anywho, wrote the last 7k words of this on a keyboard atachted to someone else's computer, so glad i don't have to write on my phone anymore. First fic i've written that has reached over 10k words, wahoo!

if there are any typos don't be rude about it thanking you. I am tired, i hope you enjoy! goodbye

[myriadeyed]

This is that essay I mentioned in the tags on the semiverbal post yesterday: An extended metaphor to explain my struggles with speaking as a verbal autistic person. If you’re allistic, I know it’s long but please open this and read it because it’s something you should understand-- autistic people cannot easily be sorted into fully nonverbal and hyperverbal, no matter how a million infographics make it seem. Maybe also open this and read it if you’re autistic and consider yourself “fully verbal” because it might make you realize something.

Most people can run, right? Most people are capable of running. You might run out of the building when you’re late for work and then walk the rest of the way. You might even run all the way to work and you’d be pretty spent but you could manage it. But you wouldn’t run everywhere. You would get tired pretty quickly, you’d hurt your body, and soon you wouldn’t even be able to walk anywhere.

Speaking is like running for me. Walking is like writing or typing. I could run to work every day but it wouldn’t take even a week for me to be so drained and hurting that I couldn’t even walk. That is to say, using words at all, typing, writing, would all become very difficult. I would have to drive next time I wanted to go somewhere (that’s like, say, using an AAC app), but there are problems with that; it’s expensive, not as safe, and you have to learn how to do it first. And let’s pretend I can’t afford gas prices right now, let alone a car, and that I don’t know how to drive yet. For the hell of it let’s also say that I worry about my safety on the road, which is mostly threatened by other people.

So I try to conserve energy for walking. That’s why I sometimes avoid social situations that require speaking. Not because I’m depressed or anxious or shy. Just because I’ve spent the past week running everywhere.

Sometimes, also, the terrain makes it very difficult to run. For me an example is Zoom calls. I can do my best running up a hill so steep for so long but by the end I’m gonna be too tired to walk home, so it’s in my best interest to quit early. Different terrains are more difficult or less for different people. For some people it’s oral presentations. That’s not difficult terrain for me, but it is like a marathon, which you can’t do without getting some rest afterwards. And sometimes, you know, you get an injury that prevents you from running or even walking. I remember times when I’ve been surprised with difficult conversations that made it very hard to write, or when I overworked myself, or dissociated, or there were fireworks outside, you get the idea. But “injuries” are just temporary.

And, y’know, sometimes walking is fun. I like to go for walks by the lake and get some exercise. I like to write poetry and short stories. In fact it’s kind of my aspiring profession. So I would rather not run everywhere, because I don’t want to be too tired for a nice walk. I would rather use text-to-speech or sign language when it’s possible because I don’t want to be too spent to write important papers or my poetry.

But like. Now imagine that everyone around you runs everywhere, all the time. Or that everyone in your life is an Olympic sprinter and/or regular ultramarathon runner. They can’t understand how on Earth you get tired after running for only an hour! That’s unthinkable. Because running doesn’t require any energy for them. It’s as if, they can just glide along and they don’t even have to think about what muscles they’re using and their brain doesn’t have to manually move their legs. Mine does-- it’s not automatic for me, it’s a conscious effort. I cannot turn on autopilot for speaking, it is stuck on manual. And the way I run and how I run so slowly and I can’t keep up, that’s weird and unnecessary to them too.

But when I ask very politely if maybe I can walk somewhere, they don’t want to have to wait for me, and I can run, so I should have to. Then of course, they get frustrated that I don’t run the correct way. Wouldn’t you start to quietly wish you’d just break your leg so you wouldn’t have to run at all? I used to be ecstatic when I got sick enough to lose my voice and people were ok with me writing to communicate, and I wished it would happen more often. I’d get jealous of people who got surgery on their throat -- I genuinely had no idea why they were upset that they weren’t allowed to talk for several days. It seemed like a dream scenario to me. I didn’t know speaking didn’t require effort for them. I even wondered briefly if I had BIID because I wished I couldn’t talk at all.

I know that all sounds ridiculous but that’s legitimately what it’s like. I can speak, so there is never any reason whatsoever I should be allowed to use text-to-speech or sign language when I don’t “have” to, and the people in my life who know I can “run a marathon” when I have to will never allot me any sympathy or lenience.

[middleearthpixie]

Seven Days ~ Chapter Two

Seven Days - Modern AU

Firefighter Frerin Durin died in a fire set deliberately. But after he helps his brother, Thorin find happiness, Frerin is offered a second chance. He has to prove himself worthy by righting the one major wrong in his life. Otherwise, history will repeat and he will die for good this time. The catch? He has seven days in which to do this and isn’t even certain what his major wrong is.

At least, he doesn’t know for long. 

Syd Prescott has known Frerin since high school. She spent one night with him and then he vanished from her life. Now, he claims he wants to make it up to her, to right was he realizes was his major wrong. But can she trust him? And can he prove to her that she can before it’s too late? 

A/N - This story is the sequel to Miss Fortune, but is a stand alone story. 

Summary: Syd has an unexpected visitor… 

Pairing: Modern!Frerin x OFC Syd Prescott

Characters: Syd Prescott, Gram Prescott, Frerin 

Warnings: None

Rating: G

Word Count: 4,077

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

For the rest of the afternoon, Syd tried to concentrate on work, as the weather began to clear and that brought out more foot traffic. The Christmas rush had begun, and that meant she was running crazy, even with Gram’s help, and she breathed a sigh of relief when seven o’clock rolled around and the shop closed for the night. 

“So, what’re your plans for tonight. Syd?”

She looked up at Gram and shrugged. “Nothing special. I’m going home and curling up with Ted Lasso.”

“Television?” Gram wrinkled her nose. “You’re too young to be sitting around the house like an old woman, Sydney. You should be out with your girlfriends, having fun.”

“They’re all married now. With kids. And no free time. And besides,” Syd turned the sign on the door from open to closed, “when I do see Christie or Jen, all they ever talk about is how tired they are and how I cannot possibly understand because I don’t have kids.”

She came back to the front counter and leaned her elbows against the cool glass. “It’s exhausting to listen to them. And let’s face it, I don’t exactly relate, either, do I?”

“So, see if Teri is off tonight. She’s neither married nor a mother.”

Syd waved off that suggestion. “She’s Lex’s friend more than mine. And besides, she said there was an early Christmas party being held at the Hilltop. So, she’ll be working until closing, most likely. And it’s just as well. I like Ted Lasso.”

Gram sighed softly. “If you say so.”

“I do. Besides, the guy who plays Roy Kent is hot, so there’s that.”

“Oh, now you sound like Charlie and any guy who passes through that door.”

Syd chuckled. “I know, right? The difference is, if he was real, she’d nab him in a heartbeat. What about you? Do you and the chief have a date tonight?”

“Actually, yes. I’m meeting him for dinner,” Gram looked down at the delicate gold watch on her equally delicate wrist, “in about fifteen minutes, so I’d better get moving.”

“I can finish locking up and do the deposit.”

“Would you, love? Thank you!” Gram pressed a kiss into the top of her head and swept by her, her car keys jangling softly in her hand. “Don’t stay up!”

“I won’t,” Syd forced a smile into her voice all the while shuddering at the same time. Everyone in Cranford Falls knew Gram was the catalyst behind Chief Parmenter’s divorce and more than once, Syd or one of her sisters would be in the shop when the chief came in to see Gram about something, as they did quite a bit of work with the police department. That Syd didn't mind. The part she minded—the part they all minded—was when he came out of the upstairs office a bit more wrinkled or Gram’s blouse was buttoned crooked. That was something none of them ever wanted to know about.

Ever.

Never mind that it was depressing as hell to think her grandmother had a far more active social life. Syd was going home to watch television. Pathetic, really. It had been ages since she last had a date. She couldn't remember the last time a guy asked her out. Most of them were hesitant because of her family. As one winner put it, “I can’t handle you or your family knowing what I think before I know it.”

Only, she couldn’t read minds. Auras and tarot, sure. But she couldn't read minds. None of them could. And yet, that was the first thing that seemed to come to everyone’s mind when it came to the Prescott family. 

It was dark by the time Syd made it to her car. She sighed as she turned over the Jetta’s engine and rubbed her hands together to warm them until the heat kicked on. Winter had decided to come early, and between that and the snow that once more swirled through the air, Syd found herself wishing it was almost spring instead of not even winter. And the weather wasn't the only thing on her mind. Why had Frerin come into the shop and why was he so insistent on making it up to her? And why the fuck didn't he call her when he said he would?

That was what bothered her. And it bothered her that it still bothered her. It shouldn’t. She knew Frerin Durin couldn't be trusted. Everyone knew he was in it for the chase and once that ended, he was gone.

So, why did it bother her?

Probably because she wanted to think she was different. Which was stupid, really. It was one night. They never ever went out on a single date. 

True, she’d known him since junior high. He was a grade behind her, but everyone knew the Durin brothers. Especially the female population at Cranford Falls Middle and later Cranford Falls High Schools. He was younger, but she wasn’t immune to him. She remembered him and Thorin all too well.

Finally, she stopped shivering and put the transmission into reverse to carefully back out of her space. The lot behind the shop was shared between them and the laundromat (thankfully the bank had its own lot) and some nights, getting out without bumping any other cars was nothing short of a miracle. But not tonight. The laundromat was closed on Fridays, so the only cars in the lot would have most likely been for Miss Fortune’s Crystal, which meant hers was the only car there, now that Gram had already gone. 

She and her sisters lived with Gram in her rambling old Victorian over on Plum Street. The driveway was empty, and she angled her Jetta in, rolling to a stop before the detected garage that was the same shade of Wedgwood blue as the house itself. Wedgwood blue with the same pale gray trim as the gingerbread scrollwork and the same pale gray as the wide, wraparound porch. 

The house was dark. Wherever she’d gone off to, Charlie hadn’t left a light on. Or maybe Teddy hadn’t. She didn't know. She hadn’t seen either her oldest or youngest sister since earlier that morning. Either way, one of them forgot to leave a light on.

Thankfully, one of them had gotten the mail, so Syd closed the box and made her way to the front door, which was white and in the Victorian fashion, was inlaid with an oval of stained glass depicting a dove and roses. The door swung open with out a sound, although she spent a good five minutes wrestling with the lock, trying to get her key back. 

But finally, the lock gave it up and, after flipping on the parlor lights, she closed and relocked it and was halfway to the kitchen when there was a knock. She ignored it. Probably Jehovah’s Witnesses and she went out of her way to avoid dealing with them. They all were very nice, but everyone knew her family, including them, and so no matter which one turned up at the door, he or she would do their damndest to convince Syd why their family’s pagan ways were leading them straightways to hell. Truth be told, she was in no mood to deal with that tonight.

But, they refused to take the hint and knocked again. And again. And a fourth time.

She swore softly to herself as she marched back to the door and yanked it open, her, “Take the hint,” dying on her lips when she saw who stood on the opposite side of the threshold. “What do you want?”

Frerin offered up a sheepish smile. “Would you believe me if I said nothing?”

“No. Not for a moment.” She smiled back. “Good night.”

She closed the door in his face. At least, she tried to. But he was too quick and shoved his foot in between the door and the jamb, sucking in a sharp breath as the door closed soundly on him. 

“Frerin, get your foot out of my door.”

“Just give me five minutes, Syd. And maybe my foot back?”

“You’re a pain, you know that?” 

“Ow! Could you maybe just ease up on the door? Look, I know you’re pissed and you have every right to be, but I mean it when I say I want to make it—ow—up to—are you leaning on the fucking door?—to you.”

She relented as his voice grew strained and eased up on the door. “I might have been. But you’re lucky I didn't just slam the door instead.”

“Please don’t.” He yanked his foot out and grimaced as he put weight on it. “Jesus, Syd, you’re a hard woman, you know that?”

“Gee, I wonder why.” She glared at him as he lifted his foot to rub it. Then sympathy wove through her. She was acting like a fifteen year old and not a grown woman. A sigh rose to her lips. “Why are you here?”

He paused in his rubbing. “I told you—a few times, actually—I want to make it up to you. I want to right it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why? Why now, after all this time?”

“I—I don’t know, I just feel like I should. It wasn't right, what I did, and I always had a crush on you and now—”

She burst out laughing. “A crush? On me? That’s the best you can come up with? You’re losing your touch, Mr. Durin. And the answer is still no. Now take your foot and go home.”

“Syd, wait.” He lowered his foot and this time put his hand against the doorjamb instead, and she fought like crazy to not stare at that huge hand, with its thick fingers.

Stop it. She tore her gaze from that hand, and instead met his eyes.

Also a mistake. 

His eyes were, without a doubt, the most beautiful shade of gray-blue she’d ever seen. Gray-blue. Fringed by thick black lashes. Beneath dark brows.

Stop it!

“Syd?”

She jerked back toward him, heat climbing into her cheeks. “Yeah? Sorry, it’s—” she reached up to rub her forehead—“it’s been a long day, is what it’s been?”

“Can I come in? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

She sighed and, against her better judgment, stepped aside. “Yeah. Come in. Gram would be pissed if she knew I was heating the outside anyway. She’d remind me we don’t own the gas company.”

“Yeah, my mom says the same thing.” He stepped up and into the parlor, his Doc Martens thudding dulling against the oak floorboards. Wait… Docs?

“I didn't hurt your foot at all, did I?” 

He grinned. “You did a little.”

She pushed the door shut and out of habit, locked it. “You’re such an ass, you know that?”

He nodded. “Yeah, actually. You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

She folded her arms and glared at him. “What do you want?”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Why’d I do what?”

“That.” He gestured toward the door. “Why’d you lock it?”

“It’s force of habit. We deal with some not-really-wrapped-tight people and every once in a while, one of them looks up where we live. So far, nothing serious has ever happened, but we’re careful.”

“You tell the cops?”

“Tell them what? Half of them think we’re charlatans. Your bother and Chief Parmenter are in the minority, you know.”

“Yeah, well, the Durin family is nuts, too. My mother insists we’re descended from Druid high priests and priestesses, from the Norse vǫlur. And I know the answer, but do you need me to explain what a vǫlur even is?”

“No, actually, you don’t. I already know.”

“Good.” He shrugged out of his heavy leather jacket. “Anyone ever actually try to get in here?”

“No. Well, once. About a year ago.”

“What happened?”

She gestured toward the kitchen. “Want something hot to drink? I was going to make some hot chocolate.”

He grinned. “Quaint.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“There’s not much to tell. It was Halloween and we’re always real popular during the spooky season. Someone came up onto the porch around midnight, rattled the handle, and then ran like hell when Gram opened the door with a butcher’s knife in her hand.”

“She didn’t.”

“She did.” Syd flicked on the overhead kitchen light, shrugged out of her own wool coat to drape over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, and then moved to take the milk from the fridge. “Have you met my grandmother?”

“Actually, no. Not really.” He grinned, hanging his jacket from the back of one of the other chairs. “My brother’s met her, I haven’t. I just know of her.”

“Oh. Right.” She gently smacked herself in the forehead with the heel of her hand. “Sorry. Anyway, Gram does not suffer fools lightly. The kid was lucky she had the knife and not her gun. She keeps that in the shop.”

“A gun. I hope she knows how to use it.”

“Oh, she does.” Syd moved to the pantry, wincing as the door slid open with a hint of a squeal. The hinges needed to be oiled. Cocoa powder was on the bottom shelf, and her knees made an odd crunching sound as she crouched to snag it. “We all do. Well, not Lex. She’s scared of guns, although Thorin’s doing his best to make a shooter out of her.”

“Yeah. The gun range is his home away from home.”

“What about you? You shoot?”

“Nah. I’m not interested. I leave guns and bullets up to Thorin.” He tugged the chair out and sank into it. “The only thing I shoot is pool down at Darcy’s.”

She smiled as she went back to the stove and set the cocoa powder on the counter next to it. “Really?”

“Yeah. I play in a couple of tournaments during the year. I’m not great, but I’m not terrible, either.”

Pots were in the cabinet to the left of the stove and she retrieved a medium saucepan to set on the cast-iron stovetop grate, then reached for the mugs in the above cabinet to her left. “I always wanted to learn.”

“I’ll take you out to play one night. And, if you’re nice, I’ll even let you win.”

“Oh, that’s mighty big of you.” She spooned cocoa powder into the saucepan, filled one of the mugs with milk twice to dump into the pot, added sugar and vanilla, and turned on the burner. Stirring with a wooden spoon, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “And what if I just beat you?”

“Then you get bragging rights. But, remember, I’ve been playing a long time.”

“Yeah, but you said you aren’t that great.”

“No,” his chair creaked as he stood and came over to lean up against the counter alongside her, “what I said was, I’m not great, but I’m not terrible, either.”

“Which is what I said.”

“I’m not losing to a girl.”

“Chauvinist.”

“Hardly.”

“You sound like one.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, and I think you know it, too.”

“I apologize then. I’m all for women’s rights and being equals and to prove it, I’ll let you pick up the tab when we go out.”

“You’re an ass and I’m not going out with you.”

“Not even to shoot pool?”

“I’d be too tempted to hit you with the cue.”

“I’d probably deserve it.”

“What are you about, Frerin? What’s this whole thing about?” she asked, stirring the cocoa as it slowly heated.

“I’m not about anything other than proving to you I’m a decent guy. Not a nice guy, because we all know the nice guys are dicks, but a decent guy.”

“Frerin.”

“I swear it’s the truth, Syd.” He folded his arms and she tried like hell not to notice how doing so pulled the sleeves of his dark blue henley even tighter to highlight the absolutely perfection that was his biceps muscles straining against the fabric. Instead, she lowered her gaze.

That was a mistake as well.

Levi’s never looked so good. They fit him perfectly, were faded in all the right places. A hint of his cologne hung in the air. Subtle and woodsy, it was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. 

It took almost all of her willpower, but she pulled her gaze back up and met his. “Why now, though? And I want the truth this time. Not some cutesy little flirty answer that you think will get you out of trouble.”

He shrugged. “The truth? I was an asshole to you. But, it wasn't intentional. I swear it wasn’t. Time got away and then before I knew it, too much time had gone by and I knew you’d be pissed and I was right.”

“And let me guess, you’ve been kicking yourself ever since? Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“No. I figured you’d tell me to go to hell and that you’d moved on and I have to admit, I’m surprised you’re home on a Friday night.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m a loser and I know it.” She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her left ear and lowered the flame under the saucepan. “But, how is it you’re here on a Friday night? No hot date?”

“The woman I was seeing decided she wanted to see other guys. I just wish she’d told me about it first.”

She looked up at him. “What?”

“Yeah. See? Karma is a thing and it bit me in the ass. Or maybe it didn’t. I don’t know.” He unfolded his arms and rubbed his face with both hands, then lowered them to add, “Either way, she cheated on me and I’m thinking maybe she did me a favor. Because if she doesn’t, I’m not here and if I’m not here, then I’m de—”

He abruptly stopped, and she waited to see if he’d continue. When he didn’t, she said, “You’re what?”

“Nothing. She did me a favor. That’s all.”

“Frerin?”

He gestured to the saucepan. “I think it’s about to boil.”

“Damn it.” She turned the gas off and lifted the pan to pour its contents into both mugs, all the while wondering what he was about to say to her and why he didn't just finish saying it. 

She set the pan in the sink and ran water into it, then handed him the Rutgers mug. “You want a shot of something in it? I was going to throw some amaretto in mine.”

“Amaretto?” His nose wrinkled.

“It’s good.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“No, but—”

She dug the bottle out from the liquor cabinet and brought it over to unscrew the cap. “Don’t be a baby. Just try it.”

Without waiting for him to reply, she poured some into his mug, then into hers, and recapped the bottle, then stirred both. “Try it.”

He eyed the cup. She eyed him. Then, he brought it up for a swallow and as he lowered it, he said, “I can barely taste it.”

“Want more?” She reached for the bottle.

“No, I’m good.” 

He pushed up and away from the counter and returned to his chair. She sat across from him, just studying him for a moment. Reading auras was one of her gifts and at the moment, his was more than a little confusing. It was blue, with hints of red in it. A change loomed on his horizon and he wasn't entirely certain how he felt about it. 

“Why are you—are you hexing me, Syd?”

“Hexing you?” She shook her head. “No. I was—” She hesitated, a lifetime of men reacting badly to her gifts giving her pause. 

“You were what?”

“Your aura. I was reading it.”

“My aura.”

She nodded. “We all have one. Most people can see them as children, but they grow out of it. I am not one of those people. I can see it if I just kind of study you for a few minutes.”

“And what color is mine.”

“You’re not freaked?”

“No. I told you, my family is just as weird. It takes more than this to freak me out. Trust me on that.”

“Frerin.”

He met her gaze, his eyes unwavering and calm. “What color is it?”

“Blue, with red at the edges.”

His fingers drummed softly against the table. “And what does that mean?”

“It could mean a few things. Blue indicates something is out of balance or needs healing and red… well… it’s usually indicates confidence, but that’s not what I’m picking up here. Yours is more… like a change is looming somewhere. Are you thinking about changing jobs or moving?”

His eyes widened ever so slightly and she didn't miss how his back stiffened. “No. I like what I do and I like it here. I’m not leaving any time soon if I don’t absolutely have to.”

“Maybe it’s because you and your girlfriend broke up. Sometimes a loss can throw your aura out of whack.”

“Probably. It was a kick in the nuts to find her cheating on me.”

Syd silently agreed. Who in their right mind would want anyone else when they had Frerin Durin? 

Then he met her gaze. “Then again, like I said, she actually did me a favor.” He leaned back in his chair. “Where is everyone else?”

“Gram is on a date. Alex is away with Thorin. Teri is working. And I haven’t a clue where Charlie or Teddy are.”

He grinned. “Your grandmother is on a date, while you’re home waiting for her?”

“I’m not waiting for her and don’t remind me.””

“Come on,” he set his mug down, “I’ll take you out. Where you want to go? Get your coat.”

“I’m not going out with you.”

“Why not? We’ll go over to Darcy’s, shoot some pool, you buy me a drink and maybe I’ll even put out for you.”

“Frerin.”

“I’m kidding. Sort of.”

“Ass.”

“I know, I know.” He stood up and moved to deposit his cup in the sink. “I should get going, if you’re determined to stay here. I have to get home and walk my dog anyway.”

For a moment, she thought about taking him up on his offer—well, most of it anyway—but then he was shrugging into his jacket and she thought better of it. “Frerin?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me the truth. Why did you come over here?”

“I told you, to convince you to go out with me again.”

“No, really. Why?”

“That is why. See me to the door, will you?”

She sighed softly as she got up and followed him back out into the parlor. It made no sense why he’d suddenly grown so insistent on asking her out agains when she hadn’t heard a peep from him in four months. 

He turned to her, looming over her in a way that could easily be intimidating and yet, she felt totally safe with him. “Thanks for the spiked hot chocolate, Syd.”

“Frerin, what’s going on?”

“I’ve just been thinking, doing some evaluating in my life and I treated you like crap and you didn't deserve it, so I want to make it up to you. Show you I’m a changed man.”

As he spoke, he brought a forefinger to her cheek to gently trace along it. “I want another chance with you, Syd.”

That gentle caress sent a rush of tingles through her, made her eyelids heavy and her heart speed up. “Frerin, I—why should I?”

“Because I really am a decent guy and I won’t vanish again. At least, not for four months.”

“Frerin.”

“I’m kidding. Well, I’m mostly kidding. Look, let me take you out, Syd. Dinner. Drinks. Lunch. Ice cream. I don’t care.”

“Ice cream?”

“I’m grasping here. Throw me a rope, will you?” He grinned. “Darcy’s tomorrow. Dinner. Pool. And I promise, I won’t care if I lose to you.”

She sighed. She might be making a huge mistake, but at the same time, she was tired of sitting home every night. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.” He straightened up, then his brows lowered and he said, “Does your grandmother know about what happened between us?”

“No.”

“Good. Then I don’t have to worry about her answering the door with a knife.”

“Frerin.”

“I’m kidding. I’ll see you tomorrow, Syd.”

[time-is-restored]

WIP GAME

(aka my wips are eating me out of house and home for the love of god someone Help Me-)

tagged by @/trentcrimminallybeautiful! if ur seeing this and you'd like to join in, then consider this me tagging you, too!

Rules: in a new post w/ rules attached, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIP’s; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write three sentences in that file. If the file name is one you can’t share (for example, an event fic), write three sentences on it anyway, and then write three more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join, or just post.

so, five most recent file names:

TRENT: KILL (Ted Lasso)

BEARD AND [redacted] GET RUSSIAN DOLL-ED (Ted Lasso)

Trent Crimm Analysis Shit (Ted Lasso)

Stage play Dream Sacrifice (Ted Lasso)

fucked up and evil persona bad end (Persona 5 Royal)

would love to say this is the totality of my TL wips but actually the fourth file has like. a good ten or so snippets from other concepts + scenes also floating around in there so unfortunately i just Live Like This. trent crimm becoming a regular did something irreversible to my brain </3

and here's the snippet, from the second WIP!

Ted gasps again. Beard ignores him. So, apparently, does Roy. “Alright. What the fuck’s code blue, then? ‘S’at for Man City or something?”

Several undignified seconds pass where Beard cannot fathom why Roy would possibly think he was talking to him about football. 

“...What? No. Code Blue- Coach,” he looks behind him, throws some appropriately befuddled eyebrow movements in his direction, “how does he not know about Code Blue?” 

Ted tilts his head to the side. He’s smiling, and doesn’t look the least bit thrown. Fucking improv practice. “Probably because it’s a code you and I came up with on our lonesomes, and we’ve yet to pen any manifestos espousing its utility to the masses?” 

Beard takes a moment to process that. “Yeah, okay.” Swings back round to Roy. Lowers his hand, which is still tired from the rowing, and folds his arms across his chest. “Code Blue’s our ‘no questions asked’ code.” 

“For when you’ve just witnessed the start of a zombie apocalypse, or an alien invasion- anything that’d have your buddy looking for hidden cameras, otherwise.” Ted chimes in, diligently steering Roy’s attention back to him. Beard passingly wonders what his plans are for unscrewing Beard’s professional reputation. Knowing him, it almost certainly involves too much whisking. Fucking Lasso. “Cuts out any time wasted with the whole ‘aw, honey, I’m sure it was just a trick of the light’ routine - which is patronising as all get out as far as counter-arguments go, so I’d like to think our attempts at debunks would be little more nuanced either way- but that’s besides the point.”

“There’s a point?” Roy says, eyebrows creeping even higher. 

“Sure!” Ted says, cheerily. “The point in question: if someone calls Code Blue, you don’t argue. It’s sacred.” There’s a pause. “Hey, wait a minute, that first bit rhymed!” 

“No questions asked,” Beard cuts in before Ted can start work-shopping a couplet, nodding once, firmly.

“No! Questions! Asked!” Ted echoes, punctuating each word with an enthusiastic rap on his desk.