#listen i gotta tell someone and all of my bad jokes that rattle around my brain while studying go to twitter

[ashercate-marablanchett]

𝐏𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

Warnings: talks abt ed disorder

Word Count: 2,106

85 calories in the toast. 116 calories in butter and 45 calories in orange juice. I shouldn't have had toast. I can't keep doing this. My hips feel heavy, as though all of that junk went straight through me settling down at the lower part of my body. I'm always heavy I felt heavy.

"I've seen better days! So unafraid in my youth. I can't breathe, much less believe the truth." My headphone rattled against my ears not being able to fit on my head perfectly. I rode the Londons Underground train every day to school. I've been going to this new school for what felt like a damn eternity, but it's only been a few weeks. I started a little late. My older sister took me in when I had to leave my mother. I had to uproot from New York to London. It's pretty I'll give it that. The rain was peaceful. Like today, it wasn't a downpour. It was a light patter against the cement. As I walked to the metro station this morning, I heard little tapping on the awnings of storefronts as I walked underneath. I was peaceful. I keep using that word don't I? Peaceful. Like I haven't grown too accustomed to what peaceful is. The peaceful feeling is strangely comforting in this foreign city.

I had my nose deep in one of my books still listening to music as I bolted out of my seat. Probably startling the older woman across from me. Someone was calling. No one knew my phone number, my sister Rooney had to get me a new one since the one in the States wouldn't be much use here.

"Roon? You scared the shit out of me. What do you want?" I spoke under my breath trying not to be loud.

"Asher? Can't I just call my favourite sister?" I could tell she was working. I could hear the endless string of unanswered calls she was not working on.

"Rooney, I'm your only sister. Did you forget that? Or do you have other 17-year-old sisters you didn't disclose?" I joked noticing my stop was coming up quickly. I jolted to my feet sensing the little light show was going to start. I blinked furiously seeing only stars. I got up too quickly again. Fuck! I leaned on the side to keep my balance.

"Haha! No! If I had more sisters like you I'd be bald! The real reason I called is that I wanted to make sure you took your vitamins today." She sounded serious, but with the room looking like a disco ball I didn't notice.

"Maybe, I can't remember right now. Can I call you later I have to focus on my stop?" The train came to halt as my destination came to me instantly.

"Asher, I'm serious. You need to take those. You're bruised like a fucking dalmation. If these vitamins don't work I'll have to take you to see someone. That's not normal." She trailed on as I left my phone at my side still hearing her voice yammering on.

"Kay, I'm sorry I'll take them when I get home after school. I promise Roon. I gotta go bye!" I hung up reluctantly stepping out onto the landing.

I had to walk another block just to reach this private school my sister so happily put me in. I don't know why she just didn't put me in public school. Why she would waste her good-earned lawyer cash on her little sister. I wanted to smoke so bad. I had to watch my every move around here. Anyone being seen in uniform with a cigarette can either get detention or expelled, the urge was too overcoming. I knew there was an alley somewhere before I reached the school perimeter. There had to be. In my view, I saw the St. Mary's school sign at the front of the gates and a small alley before it on my next left. I turned friskly to not to make any attention to myself.

Man, it's getting cold.

It was only a slight breeze and my white fingers have turned light beryl. Smoking made me feel warm, yes, it will probably kill me. Though, what won't? If this won't kill me then I'd just have to do it myself. Slowly, and quietly. I shuffled through my bag feeling my almond-shaped nails snag everything that wasn't tied down in my bag. Cords, books, notebooks until I found my carton of Marlboro Reds squished underneath my laptop. None of the cigarettes were damaged but the box has seen better days. The lighter weaves through my fingers like it's about the escape my gasp. It faintly draws to a halt once it catches the deep webbing between my fingers. The depth caught it. The only colour I have left in my hands is the chipped-away black nail polish showing my ghost-white nails. The earthquake is beginning, the powerful tremors my child-like hands possess while I raised my hand to my lips. My heels lifted off the ground instantly as I lit my first smoke of the day. It was a weird habit of mine. As I inhaled in the smell I addictively love so much the wind begins to strengthen. My long black hair flew against my back. I always had two metal snap clips on either side of my temples keeping the hair out of my eyes.

"Hey! You trying to get yourself in trouble?" A stunningly blonde appeared out behind a waste bin smoking herself. Her eyes were cat-like, darting every which way. She was tall, even taller with black heels. Wearing black leather pants and a dark turtle neck sweater underneath a green tweed trench coat.

"Not really that's why I'm hiding here isn't it?" I couldn't tell where her accent is from. Though, a lot of people in London are from other places. Most of these countries have different accents. Even in London, there are rural areas where the accent is profoundly different. About 40 to be exact.

"You do realize the headmaster comes to check in the first alley to see any students. Come quick!" Her hand clawed into my bicep. Basically picked me up and stuffed me behind the trash bin. "There. Finish your smoke and be on your way." She stepped back peering over to the end of the alley and seeing the headmaster cocking his head in her general direction.

"Thank you." I squeaked out flicking the long array of burnt ash at the end of your cigarette. You flicked it watching it float around the air like grey snowflakes. The blonde looked down at her heels clicking her toes together. "Don't mention it dear." She finished her cigarette brushing to the bottom of her heel. I only had half of it finished but just her staring at me made me put it out. "Thank you again." I back out of the corner I was placed in, feeling the rain becoming heavy.

"You're very welcome. Now go." She pivoted her heels to the left, walking off the other way. I went the other way trotting to the front of the school.

There was my math teacher standing in front of the gates. She was an uptight, old woman trapped in a 28-year-olds body. I knew I'd have an issue. I usually have the habit of not wearing school-regulated shoes. Sometimes I forget, or sometimes I do it out of spite. Today I was in a rush this morning. I grabbed the first thing that was at door. The heaviest thing I have on. My platform Docs.

I swear I'm psychic, there she is looking down at me even though we're almost the same age. Same height at the very moment. I think she saw me but I try to zoom by her before she can out in a word edge-wise.

"Miss Mara? Hello? Asher?" She tried to flag me down. I turned to flick a strand of hair. "Yes, Ms. Matherson?" She's a grade A suck up. She can't let anything go.

"I know for a fact those clunky Frankenstein shoes aren't school regulated now are they?" Her little pen pointed down, and my eyes locked down at my shiny shoes knowing they were nice.

"Oh yes, I realized once I came off the subway, terrible mistake on my part. Should've known not to dress myself in the dark! Haha! I think I have an extra pair in my locker." I played cool only trying to get into the building but, I'd love to be sent home. Though Rooney would kill me. "Well alright then, I'll let it slide this time. But if you show up tomorrow without the right regulated shoes I'll have to send you to the headmaster." Her accent made my ears ring, she was annoying. "Right, I understand. Thank you."

✯¸.'*¨'*✿ ✿*'¨*'.¸✯

"Oui! Goth chick yeah? Move before I make you mate yeah?" A group of girls slammed by me. I knew some stereotypes are not real, but chavs are real. I thought I'd be surrounded by girls who act and sound like Emma Watson. Sadly to my surprise, it was like chavs ran the entire prep school. The only way I got to see real intellectual 'British' people was to upgrade my year 13 English level. If I had to be surrounded by girls who looked black who were white I possibly think I'd go insane.

You can get lost in this ancient place very quickly. I swore the queen of fucking England went to school here. The outside looks marvellous, and in some classrooms, they're an American girl's whole academic aesthetic. The stairs were a killer on my legs. Every step I took made my kneecaps shake. I could've collapsed if I didn't hold onto the railing. Each step up the stairs to the landing made me subtract more calories I'll eat today. 600, 500, 400? No. 350. There.

Once I made it to my class the door was closed. I saw a slew of classmates sitting around the door. I stood in front of the door jiggling handle. It was locked. I continued to fidget with the handle, my foot pressed firmly against the bottom of the door. "It's locked you know, right?" A guy holding a soccer team bag sat hunched over next to the door. "No shit sherlock. Maybe I can unlock it with a pin. It's dark, it doesn't look like anyone's in." I pressed my clip on my temple. Putting the small part of the clip into the lock, I twisted around trying to catch the lock mechanism. I was so distracted bent on one knee that I didn't even realize the lights in the classroom flicked on. I felt the lock attach and the knob turns. "There, I think I got it, guys." I huffed trying to apply what pressure I have left.

"No, you don't." The door flung open seeing the same black heels at my knees. It was her. The tall blonde. "So you wanna stay on the ground and dirty your tights or do you want to stand?" I bolted up onto my feet. She still towered over me.

"No. I'll stand." I fixed my skirt thinking I was flashing everyone behind me. "I think that's the smartest thing you've done all day." Her hands slipped into the pockets of her jeans. "Come, come. I'm sorry I had you all waiting so patiently. I had to tend to a personal matter." She turned around letting us all in like a herd. I immediately took the first seat at the end. The blonde stood at her desk, everyone noticed she was staring at me. Her hand was raised in front of her. "No, no. Don't sit there. Shiny boots." Me? Was it me? I looked down at everyone's shoes. The men wore oxfords and the girls had to wear Mary Janes. I was the only one wearing Docs. "Yes, you. Come sit up front." I arose seeing everyone watching me trail along. I scooped myself into the seat, not to catch my hair.

"There. That's better. Well if you haven't realized by now, I'm your new A-level English teacher Cate Blanchett. You may call me Ms. Blanchett or Ms. C if you're bold. I don't give a shit." She removed her trench coat seeing her square figure. "I'd love to get to know, every, single one of you." She sat down in her chair lowering her glasses at me. I knew it was directly to me.

[problemeule]

finally fucking done with notes on the lab yeet

[warmblanketwhump]

flight plan: part 2

no planes in this one - just some good old-fashioned sickfic! But if you want the backstory, check out part 1 here.

“A, can you hand me my glass of water? Pleaaaase?” B sticks out their bottom lip in a pout, and A can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, you. It’s been four days and I know you’re getting better, because you’re getting pesky again.” A straightens the blankets and slides their hand up to feel B’s cheek. “Still a little warm, but I think you’re on your way out of the woods.”

“So I should milk this while I can?” B flutters their eyelashes and gives a pitifully fake cough, which slips into a real one, sharp and rattling. Concern flits across A’s eyes, and they help B take a few sips from the glass.

Despite the joking, A didn’t kid themselves about how sick B had been, or how awful they’d truly felt after getting off the plane. The first two days had been nightmarish - B barely conscious, shivering with chills and sweating through their sheets, alternating between terrifying fever dreams and inconsolable moaning and weeping.

A did their best to hold them through it, but they had been minutes away from hauling B to the hospital. Thankfully B’s fever had spiked just one final time before settling into general low-grade misery.

“As long as you need me, sweetheart, you’ve got me.” B gives a tired smile and pulls the blanket to their chin, huddling around the new stuffed animal A gave them at the airport.

“Did you call C?”

“Ah, not yet. Too busy with you, ya sick little bean.” A gently fluffs B’s hair. “You rest, and I’ll give them a call now.”

But C doesn’t pick up. Nor do they pick up an hour later, leaving A stuck with the unpleasant task of leaving a voicemail.

“Um, hi…this is A. I just wanted to call and let you know that B’s on the mend. They’re still pretty weak, but I think things are looking up. So…yeah. Thanks for everything you did for B - once they were feeling better, they told me all about what you did. And I…well, I care a lot about them. Obviously. So I appreciate it. I guess you can call back if you-”

The message cuts off, and A groans. Hopefully that was enough. Still, they couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of their stomach.

Later, they settle in with B to watch a movie, B’s head cradled in their lap as A combs their fingers soothingly through their hair, reveling in the sheer normalcy of it all. They both end up falling asleep, and when A blinks awake as the credits roll, they notice a missed call from C. B’s still out, so they click to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey, A….sorry I *coughs*…missed you earlier. Wasn’t able to *sniffs* make it to the phone. So glad to hear that B’s *cough cough* doing better. I think they did a little sharing.” C laughs weakly, but A can hear the sheer exhaustion in their voice. “Anyways, glad they had you. And if you’ve got any survival tips, feel free to pass them along…..I’m just kidding. *cough* I’ll be fine. Anyways, I’ll…see you around, I guess.” They pause briefly, like they want to say something more, but a coughing fit steals their breath away, and the message ends with a click cutting off the rough gasps.

The pit in A’s stomach comes back. C sounds sick.

“Who….who was that?” B mumbles from their spot on A’s lap.

“It was C. They called back and they….didn’t sound so good.”

B’s eyes snap to meet A’s, more alert than they have been in days. “Did they sound like me?”

C pauses. They hadn’t thought about not telling B, but in hindsight, maybe they should have. After all, it’d only flood B with guilt, and they needed all the energy they had to get well. But one look at B’s concern, and they knew they wouldn’t be able to lie.

“Yeah. They did.” Immediately B struggles to push themselves up, throwing their blanket off their shoulders and trying to stand.

“Whoa, hold it there. Where do you think you’re going?”

“To C. If they’re sick, it’s from me, and if any hints from the past four days of living with me are any indication, we gotta help them.”

A throws their hands up, pressing B back on the couch. “Hold up. We don’t know them, we don’t know if someone’s already taking care of them, and we don’t know where they live. I’m sure they’re-“

B frantically shakes their head. “You didn’t hear them. On the plane. From what they said…I don’t think they have anyone. I have to go.”

A chews their lip. “Well, let’s get things straight first. You’re in no shape to go help them. Which leaves me. A random stranger they don’t know. And you want me to check on them?”

The question was meant to be sarcastic, but B nods vigorously and fear fills their eyes with a fevered anxiety. “A, you saw how sick I was. You think anyone’s gonna be able to fight through that alone?”

A sighs wearily. They could blame it on the fact that arguing with a sick B was like arguing with a brick wall. But truthfully, what did their heart in was the thought of B alone on that plane, sick and shivering and miserable, if C hadn’t helped.

Fine. They’d send a text.

You okay? You sounded kinda rough on the phone. B was worried….

A few moments later, C responds.

Eh, I’ve felt better. But thank you for asking. And tell B not to feel bad. They were a better seatmate than most.

A smile tugs at A. At least this C was polite.

Is there anything you need? B said something about you being by yourself.

This pause was longer. The dots appeared and disappeared a few times, before a message came through.

I hate to take advantage, but is there ANY way you could bring over some cough medicine? I ran out a couple days ago. No worries if not - I can figure it out.

C’s heart sank. So they were alone. Sure, they didn’t say it - but any good friend or significant other worth their salt wouldn’t leave someone they loved without medicine for days.

I’ll bring some to you! Want to meet somewhere neutral, or just want me to drop it off?

In moments, C sends a response and an address.

Dropping off is fine. You are an actual lifesaver.

A settles B into bed with blankets, a cup of water, hot tea, and six types of medicine on the side table. “Now if you get worse, call me and I’ll turn around immediately. Nothing’s more important than you, okay?”

B shook their head. “I’ll be fine. They need someone.”

A heaves a sigh. “You’re too good, you.” They give B a quick forehead kiss, and head out into the night.

By the time they get to C’s apartment, their stomach is flip-flopping - C is a stranger. A lonely stranger, but a random stranger nonetheless. They come to C’s door and knock tentatively, gripping the paper bag of cough medicine (plus some cough drops and Tylenol for good measure), and hold their breath.

Nothing. A few minutes go by and A knocks again. They’re ready to break down the door if C doesn’t answer soon, but they realize what took so long right after they hear the click of the deadbolt.

A had seen corpses that looked more alive than C did right now. They lean heavily on the doorframe, sweat beaded on their forehead, a thick grey throw blanket clutched tightly around their shoulders. Their face is hollow and devoid of color, lips dry and cracked, their hair mussed and matted to their head. The cool night air hits their fevered body, triggering a round of chills that make them shudder. Despite their misery, a tiny light of gratitude flits across their eyes, and they stare incredulously at the paper bag in A’s hands.

“C….” A’s jaw drops to the ground.

“A, I seriously owe you one.” C tries to laugh, but it turns into a wheezing chest cough, high pitched and tense as they fight to catch their breath. Their eyes blink slowly, and they start to slide down the doorframe, but A grabs them and they both tumble inside.

Even through the blanket, A can feel C’s every bone. C weakly clings to A as they stumble toward the couch, and A deposits them on the cushions before tearing into the package of meds.

“What have you taken so far today?” A asks, trying to figure out the dosages.

“I….nothing…” C mumbles. A meets their eyes in disbelief before cracking open the blister packet and retrieving a proper dose. Grabbing an empty glass on the side table, they fill it before helping C choke the pills down. C greedily gulps the whole glass, breathing heavily once they’ve drained it.

“Water…water’s good.” C smiles blearily - they’re almost completely out of it. A presses a hand to the side of C’s neck, and C flinches at the cool touch. Their neck feels like a bank of hot coals, slick with sweat, lymph nodes sore and swollen. Their forehead isn’t much cooler either.

“C, when’s the last time you ate or drank anything?”

C cocks their head like A just asked them to recite the entire periodic table. “I….not sure? Days….kinda blurry.”

A’s seen enough. “C, you’ve got to go to the hospital. I haven’t even seen your temp, but you’re burning up even worse than B was.”

C frantically grasps at A’s wrists, sharp panic flooding their eyes. “Please…no…no hospital. I can’t. The meds….I’m fine here. Please.” A shiver wracks their body, and they hunch their shoulders, wrapping themselves back up and pulling the blanket over their nose. “Please. You can go now.”

“C, you need help-“

“I don’t.” Their voice breaks on the last word, cut off by a brief hiccuping sob.

Confusion rises through A - one minute C’s a grateful wreck, and the next moment they’re demanding they leave?

“C, I don’t understand-“

“You don’t get it. You think it feels all nice, having people care about you. Making you feel like you matter. And then they leave you. Get tired of you. Decide you’re not worth it. And it hurts worse than if they were never there at all.” C scrubs their eye with the corner of their blanket and sniffles as tears run down their cheeks. “I can’t let it happen again. I have to be alone. So just go. Please.”

A’s speechless. They kneel down next to the couch, hand tentatively hovering above C.

“C, is it okay if I put my hand on you right now?” C’s still sniffling, but they nod and mumble a weak “yes”, and A gently lets their hand rest on this stranger’s shoulder.

“C, I want to respect what you want right now. But you should know that you’re very sick. And you’ve managed in your own way - how, I have no idea - but you need some help right now. Now I can either call the hospital and let them handle it, or take you home with me. It’s up to you. Otherwise, you need to look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you want to be left alone through this.”

They squeeze C’s shoulder, and it triggers a deep gasping sob from their broken, aching body, sending a fault line straight through A’s heart. The sob turns to weeping, and A can barely make out the words C whimpers: "I don't want to hurt anymore."

God, who broke this poor thing? A bites their lip. C’s losing it. They’re running out of options short of forcing C to come with them, and that’s the last thing they want to do to a delirious, love-starved person who’s known them all of 6 minutes.

“C, I’m not gonna hurt you. I want to help you. Heck, even B wants to help you. I had to practically pin them down to the bed before leaving, they were so hell bent on this rescue.”

C’s red, swollen eyes meet A’s. “You mean….they asked after me?”

“Yes. They did. They could hardly stop talking about you once they came to their senses.” A rubs C’s knee through the blankets. “And they’d never forgive me if I left you here alone - they were very adamant about that. So if you want to save me a lot of arguing with and consoling of a very sad B, you’d actually be doing me a favor coming back with me.”

C seems to be weighing their options, all while struggling to stay awake on the couch. “I mean…if it saves you the trouble….”

A’s the one nodding vigorously now. “Please. It would.” Please. Just come back with me. I can’t leave you here like this. But I don’t know what else to do.

C presses themselves up off the couch with a single shaking arm. “Well, if it’d help you, then I accept.” And then they promptly pass out into A’s waiting arms.

It’s late when A gets back home with a limp C, and B is knocked out in their room, light still on - they’d tried to wait up, but their body still craved rest.

A carries C over the threshold and into the house. They gently lay the bundle on the bed and feel their forehead - still too hot, but the medicine seemed to be working. They manage to wake C up enough to take a few sips of broth from a mug before they pass out again.

For the briefest moment, A lets their hand touch C's shoulder again, making a silent promise they barely know how to keep: I don't know who broke you, but I'm not gonna let you hurt any more. I won't allow it.

A wave of exhaustion floods their body as they feel the effects of several late nights and long days of caretaking. They'd be no good to anyone if they didn't get any rest. A drapes an extra blanket over C’s sleeping form and heads for the couch for the night - they’d check back in an hour or so.

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

B’s awakened by the sound of sniffling. And it’s not theirs. They blink tentatively in the lamplight, sleep clouding their thoughts. Snatching a blanket from the top of their bed, they wrap up, stuffed animal under one arm, and shuffle across the hall to see where the sound is coming from.

It’s C, swathed in two blankets, holding a wad of tissues and trembling like a leaf. B flicks on the bedside table lamp, and C winces at the light. B can see the tear stains on their cheeks.

“Cold,” C whimpers, coughing weakly. Pity floods B - it’s like looking at a picture of themselves just a few days ago. They reach out and put their hand on C’s head, and C leans into the touch.

“Yeah, this part sucks,” B says softly, guilt flooding their core. Sure, they didn’t mean to make C sick. But they did. And they felt a certain responsibility to make sure they made it through okay - just like C had cared for them on the plane.

“Can I get you anything? Another blanket, tea, medicine?”

“Throat hurts…water…please?” B nods and places the stuffed animal next to C before beginning the long, slow shuffle to the kitchen. A’s asleep on the couch, and they can’t bear to wake them up for something this small. But by the time they get to the kitchen, their legs are trembling with exertion. Easy there. You’re still sick, too.

They brace themselves against the sink as the glass fills, and will themselves to make the final journey back to C. By the time they’ve returned, the glass feels like a lead weight in their hand, and their entire body is chilled and shivery all over. They do their best to help C take a few sips, holding the glass with trembling hands, bracing themselves on the bed so they don’t tip over.

“Thank….thank you,” C’s grateful eyes meet theirs, and in a split second B knows the effort was worth it. But the validation is replaced with a bout of lightheadedness that nearly topples them onto C.

“Sorry,” B gasps. “Still not up to marathons yet. Just...need a minute.” They tug their blanket tighter, closing their eyes. “And this body forgot how to stay warm when I do stuff.” C’s eyes flood with concern - even in their fevered haze, they can see B struggling.

"Want to sit for a minute?" C asks softly, patting the open spot next to them on the bed. “I’m still cold, too.”

B wriggles into the spot, propping themselves up on pillows and pulling blankets over them both. "Just a minute - you need your sleep."

C's already dozing. "S'okay. I'll sleep just fine. 'Sides, you're warm." C's nestled themselves into B's side, head resting on their chest, and B wraps an arm around C's shoulder and holds them close. They’re warm, too. Just a minute....

Many minutes later, A pokes their head in to check in on C - and finds two sick peas in a pod curled up together, C's head still on B's chest, B's arm curled protectively around C, stuffed animal squished between them, both tangled in blankets and Kleenexes.

In spite of their own exhaustion, A smiles. After everything that had happened, they had a feeling C wouldn't ever be alone again.

[smells-like-mettaton]

Rating: T (for inherent neutral ending angst)

Summary: Toriel's old house feels like a mausoleum. She will gladly ignore chisp crumbs and lumpy mattresses for a place that feels more like home.  (Queen Toriel ending fic for Soriel Week 2021.)

Word Count: 5211

XXX

The bedroom was exactly how she left it. Her bed pushed up against the gray wall. A book about snails on the wooden desk. A knit sweater with the embroidered words "Mrs. Mom Lady" in the wardrobe.

Even after all this time, she could barely look at it without her soul splitting in two.

She'd known this wouldn't be easy. She hadn't seen this house in over a century. Still, she wasn't prepared for how Asgore had sealed up her old room like a tomb, a photograph of the day that everything went terribly, horribly wrong.

At least the last child was safe. They should not have had to take a life to save their own, but she doubted Asgore had given them a choice.  Her own soul felt more numb than anything.  To her, Asgore had died a century ago.

What was done, was done. And as usual, she was too late to do anything but sweep up the dust.

She backed through the doorframe, shutting the door with a quiet click. She would have to return eventually, but for now, she yearned for a place with fewer painful memories.

"Hey, Your Majesty." A voice startled her as she attempted to escape the foyer. Luckily it was a voice she would always recognize.

"Hello, old friend." She turned and smiled at the monster leaning against the stair railing.

He was smaller than she expected, with that deep voice. Not that that was a bad thing. As for him being a skeleton, that had been apparent from the abundance of bone puns.

"You know the formality is unnecessary," she told him softly.

"Is it?" He shuffled from foot to slippered foot. 

In all her time of joking with him through the door, she had never expected him to be so cute. 

"Didn't want to assume, old lady."

He winked, and she felt a weight lift from her chest. At least one monster would still treat her like a person, and not like a mythical figure returned to save them.

"Toriel," she introduced herself for the first time. He had to have heard already, but between rushing to the palace, scattering Asgore's dust, comforting their—her people… she hadn't had time to seek out her friend.

He seemed to feel comfortable walking right into her home, though. Did he ever visit Asgore when he was here? Her friend seemed like the type of monster who went wherever he felt like, and Asgore, for all his flaws, had never turned a monster away from his home.

"Sans." He held out a bony hand. "Sans the skeleton."

"Nice to meet you, Sans," she tested out the name and clasped his hand with her paw.

A loud pthbbbbbt echoed through the empty hall. Her eyes widened.

"Wow, Toriel. That's, uh, some way to make an introduction." He winked.

She squinted down at the inflatable object in his hand, the source of the farting noise. Then she pretended to ignore it.

"It certainly is. I was not aware that skeletons were capable of flatulence."

His eyelights gutted for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"Your jokes are even better in person," he said once he composed himself.

His laugh set her soul fluttering. In all their conversations through the door, he'd never laughed like that. Maybe she should have tried fart jokes sooner.

"I am always happy to tickle your funny bone." She smiled, and his face tinged blue.

"Happy to be tickled. But, uh. I guess that's not all I'm here for?"

Her breath caught in her lungs. Of course he would not visit without a reason. 

"I suppose not. Would you like to have a seat?"

"It's nothing that serious," he assured her quickly. "I just thought you'd want an update on the kid."

"You've spoken with them? They are still here?"  She tried to keep the hysteria from her voice.

How could they have taken Asgore’s soul and not returned home?  Had the Barrier proven too powerful?

"No—geez, I'm making this sound worse." He ran a bony palm down his face. "They’re definitely gone.  Papyrus tried to call them nonstop.  Besides that, you know the big stuff. The king's dead."

Her lips drew to a thin line, pulling tight across her fangs.

"I can hardly fault them for that."

"Right." He stuck his hands back in his pockets. "I gotta be honest. The way the kid looked when I last saw them… I don't think they did it."

Her brow furrowed. She was inclined to hope that the child had not chosen violence.  They had been so sweet, so eager to talk and joke with the monsters of the Ruins, so quick to hug her even after she’d fought them.  It was hard to imagine them striking down Asgore.

"But… then what do you think happened?"

Sans shrugged. "Wish I knew. I kept watch best I could, but…"

"I could not expect you to come between them and your king." As much as she wished he could have. She had hardly expected him to agree to watch over the human at all.

“Couldn’t have even if I wanted to.  These bones aren’t as sturdy as they look.  Maybe I shoulda listened to my bro and drank more milk...” He grimaced and glanced away.  “Anyway.  Like I said, I don’t know what happened.  Just.  Be careful, okay?”

“Careful?” She blinked.

“Yeah.  You never know.” His gaze flickered to a potted golden flower on the end table next to the stairs.

“Sans.  If I did not know better, that would sound like a threat.” She crouched down, so she could better meet his eyesockets. “Is there something you are trying to tell me?”

“Man. First I rip one in front of a lady, then I threaten her.  I’m makin’ a great first impression.”  He rocked back and forth on his slippers. “Look. Toriel. I don’t wanna scare you, ‘specially since today must’ve been hard. Real hard.”

His eyelights bored into her irises. She found herself needing to look away.

“It has certainly been… interesting. Moreso than any day since I last saw this place.” She suppressed a shudder.

Change. Her life had been constant for so long.  There would be no more of that, now. Hopefully that would be for the better, but only time would tell.

“Yeah. Being flung away from everything you’re used to… don’t imagine that’s a cakewalk. Don’t want you to worry about freaks hiding in the shadows on top of that.”

Somehow, she felt he made more sense when he was on the other side of a door. Knock-knock jokes had a formula. Just another normalcy she had forfeited, she supposed.

“Please, Sans. If you believe I am in danger, you may say so.”

“Fine. So.” He grinned, and she couldn’t help a snort.

“Alright, I suppose I walked into that one.” She smiled, despite his warning. “Under normal circumstances, I would say I could handle myself. But I must admit you are more updated on the state of the kingdom than I.  Do you have any information that could help?”

“...Not really?” His grin turned sheepish.  “You look like a tough lady. I bet my bones are rattling over nothing.”

“I would still humer-us you.”

He gave her a funny look. “You’re actually taking me seriously?”

“Why would I not? You are my friend.  Perhaps… my only friend, at this point,” she admitted.  It would be foolish to ignore a warning, even if it was based on gut feeling. Or, whatever skeletons had in place of a gut.

“Well.  Uh.  If someone, something, was behind the king’s… yeah. If it wasn’t the kid, whoever else it was might still be around. So.” He coughed. “Sounds stupid when I say it like that, huh.”

“It does not.  I think it is sweet that you are worried.” He wouldn’t be able to see her blush, thankfully. It had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her.

“Geez, Toriel.” He rubbed the back of his skull. “You’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation? Are you typically a monster with a heart of bone?” she teased.

“Nah. I just don’t worry. Too much work.”  It was difficult to tell if he was joking.  “Guess I can make an exception this once, though.”

“Why, thank you, my friend.”  She had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze his hand.  It would be more for her own comfort than his, so she did not act on it. “To be honest, your words are a relief. I do not mind the excuse to avoid this place.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised. “You got somewhere else you’d rather be?”

She both did, and did not. How could she explain without sounding like a clinging child?

...Perhaps that was the wrong metaphor. She would have preferred her children to be a little clingier.

“‘Cause, uh, if you don’t mind a bit of mess… my door’s always open.”

She blinked at the offer. Had he felt the thoughts stirring in her soul?

She didn’t want to be alone. Not again. And she had told him the truth: there were unlikely to be any other monsters she knew still around. Perhaps Gerson; she and Asgore had always joked that he would outlive them.

That joke seemed awfully morbid now.

“Sorry. Was that too forward? Our friendship’s built off closed doors; guess we should just take 'em one at a—"

"No," she interjected too forcefully. “No. I would love to visit your home.”

Though she had never set foot there, she already suspected it would feel more like a home than this place.

“You really—? Great.” His skull tinged the faintest blue. “Just, uh, know that it’s nothing fancy.”

Toriel smiled. “‘Nothing fancy’ sounds wonderful at the moment.”

Perhaps wherever he lived would be out of the way enough that news of her return would be delayed. If she could be lucky enough to pass for an ordinary monster… well, that was likely too much to wish for. It certainly wasn’t becoming of a queen to hide from her subjects.

Stars, there was so much to get used to. So many formalities to reacquaint herself with.  She hoped such things would wait until tomorrow.

Sans returned her smile.

“In that case, I know a shortcut.”

XXX

She handled the shortcut well for a first-timer. No stumbling on the other end, no complaints of nausea or dizziness. Of course, she was a Queen. A Boss Monster. Why would a magic trick ruin her composure?

Sans wanted to laugh. All this time, he'd been joking with the Queen. She didn't seem to mind, but she could just be “humerus”ing him.

...Nah. She had every excuse to ignore him if she really wanted to. Instead she'd actually taken him up on his offer.

He almost forgot to drop her hand once their feet landed in the soft snow. Heh. Who was he kidding? It was just nice to feel her fur under his fingers. To touch her, and know that she was real.

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up, reflecting the gyftmas lights strung haphazardly around the house's columns. "I remember this place!"

"You do?" Sans's browbone furrowed.

"I saw it while travelling from the Ruins to…" she trailed off.  To stop the kid from fighting Asgore.

Sans felt stupid for not trying to stop them himself.  Not that a kid that determined would’ve listened, anyway.  Still… he’d believed in them.  Hoped that by some miracle, they’d get ‘em out of this mess.

Heh. That was too much pressure to put on a kid, even a determined one.

"Yeah." He coughed quietly. "Guess we're hard to miss. Papyrus did something to the Gyftmas lights—even when the CORE lights go out for the night, ours stay on. Never figured out how he pulled that off."

Toriel laughed before seeming to realize something.

"I will get to meet your brother!" She clasped her hands together. "I wish it had not come about for such an unhappy reason, but I am excited nonetheless."

He chuckled. Her excitement was contagious. That was something she and Papyrus had in common already.

He pushed the door open, called out for his brother—and noticed the monster sprawled out on his couch.

"Oh." Sans blinked at Undyne, who was snoring so loudly, he should've heard it from outside. Guess he'd been a little distracted. "Uh. This is awkward."

"What is it?" Toriel hung back, her head ducking through the doorframe. "Is your brother sleeping? I would not wish to wake him. You said he rarely sleeps, did you not?"

"Nah, it's not him. Forgot his pal's house burned down. Actually, I'm sure you met her. Undyne? Captain of the Royal Guard?"

"I… yes, we met." Toriel edged inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "She looks far more peaceful now than she did this morning. From what I understand, my ex-husband was something of a father to her."

"Something like that." Sans nodded in agreement. There hadn't even been a Royal Guard until Asgore created the position for her. Sans wondered if Toriel would keep it around now that Asgore was gone.

Welp. It wouldn't hurt, what with his suspicions about Papyrus's friend "Flowery." 

(Maybe Sans should let Toriel sleep on the top floor rather than the couch anyway. No dirt for stray flowers to get into up there.)

"Should we be staring?" Toriel said with a soft chuckle.

Sans shook his thoughts away. "Sorry. Just thinking. I, uh…"

There wasn't room on the top floor. Sans's lumpy, crumb-dusted mattress was out of the question. That left only Papyrus's bed, which while rarely in use, had too much sentimental value to give to Toriel without asking. Where was Papyrus, anyway?

"Undyne!" His brother practically kicked in the door. "I have returned with nutritious—oh!"

Papyrus's sockets blinked at Toriel. Then at Sans. Then at Toriel again.

(Undyne let out another loud snore.)

"Sans?”  Papyrus dropped his groceries on the table next to the pet rock. “Why didn't you tell me we had another guest??"  

Because he was an idiot who hadn't planned past one impulsive offer. His face went a little blue.

"I guest you would figure it out," he managed to joke. 

Toriel let out a bleating laugh at that. The suddenness of it was enough to jolt Undyne awake.

"NGAHH!!" She tried to leap off the couch, but ended up rolling onto the floor. "I'm here, Asgore! I won't—oh."

Her single eye blinked up at Toriel. 

"Papyrus?" Undyne hissed through her teeth. "Why didn't you tell me the Queen was coming??"

"Because I didn't know!" Papyrus replied brightly. 

"I, uh, promise I'm usually more professional than this." Undyne summoned an energy spear and used it to push herself to her feet. The attack left a small char mark on the carpet. "I am at your service, Your Majesty."

Sans thought she looked real professional in a pair of Papyrus's MTT-brand crop top pajamas. Toriel didn't comment on that though, instead opting for a matronly smile.

"There is no need for that, Captain. I am not here on business, but as a friend."

That smile turned towards Sans, and he fought back a blush.

"Yeah. I was just gonna, uh, make some dinner. Y'know, welcome our queen back with some Snowdin hospitality."

"Dinner?" Papyrus squinted suspiciously. "You don't cook dinner. I cook dinner."

"First time for everything, right?" Sans winked to hide his embarrassment. 

Of course Papyrus wouldn't buy his excuse. But he really didn't want his brother and Undyne worrying on top of Toriel. Granted, it was Undyne's job to worry about security threats… but she'd tear up the house's foundation if she thought an enemy might be hiding anywhere in a five-mile radius. 

"Sans," Toriel chided him. "You do not owe me that."

"Wowie! You must be a great influence on him, Bald Asgore!"

Toriel blinked before bursting out laughing. Sans's grin widened. 

"Her name is Toriel, bro."

"Of course!! Where are my manners?" Papyrus bustled past him to shake Toriel's paws. "I am the Great Papyrus! It's an honor to meet you, Queen Toriel!"

"The honor is mine. Sans has told me so much about you," she said, and Papyrus blushed pink.

"You? Know the new queen?" Undyne whispered to Sans while Papyrus and Toriel got acquainted.

"You know me. I know everyone." He winked.

"She came out of nowhere."

"Yeah. My bro and I know what that's like."

Undyne huffed, but Sans didn't offer a more thorough explanation.

Papyrus's affronted shout signalled that Toriel had dropped her first pun.

"I take it back! This is the worst day of my life!!" 

Sans met Toriel's eyes, and they both laughed.

"I suppose I will have to help Sans in the kitchen as my pun-ishment," she said with a coy wink.

"Normally I would object to a guest cooking, but in this case I will make an exception!" Papyrus turned on his heel and grabbed Undyne's arm. "We will clean up the living room in the meantime! Try not to corrupt the queen any further, Sans!!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, bro."

He gave a quick wink to Toriel behind Papyrus's back, and they moved to the kitchen.

"Did I actually upset him…?" She asked once they were out of earshot.

"Nah. He's just dramatic like that. He'll drop three puns per sentence when he thinks I'm not listening."

He turned away, rummaging through the fridge for something edible they could cook.  Discreetly, he tucked his empty chisp bag behind Papyrus’s spaghetti-filled tupperware.

“Oh, good.  I would not want to make a bad first impression.”

“Pfft. You’d have to try real hard to do that, Tori.  My bro sees the best in everyone.”  He smiled and pulled a “pupperoni” pizza out of the freezer.  It wasn’t anything fancy, but at least it would be edible.

He turned around, pizza in hand, and found Toriel staring at him oddly.

“What?”  His sockets widened.  “Uh, you’re not vegetarian, are you?”

She shook her head quickly, her gaze skimming off of his like oil from water.

“Pizza sounds lovely.  It has been quite some time since I had one.”

Sans didn’t pry, but he couldn’t help wondering what her expression had meant.  Had he said something weird?

...Oh.  He’d called her Tori, hadn’t he?  He should know better than to use nicknames without asking.  Papyrus hated them.

“Please, allow me.”  She held out her paws, so she couldn’t be too upset.

He handed over the pizza, and he jumped when fire flared to life in her palms.  For a moment he thought the fire would scorch the pizza beyond recognition, but the flames were just pleasantly warm.  He’d never known a monster other than Grillby to have such careful control of fire magic.

“Heh.  I didn’t know you were so hot, Toriel.”

As soon as he said it, he clamped his jaw shut.  Geez, how stupid could he be?  Making bad jokes was one thing, but flirting with bad jokes?

The fire went out.  She looked up abruptly—er, looked away from the pizza.  He was still a good two feet shorter than her.

“Tori was fine,” she said, her voice soft.

“Uh,” he replied intelligently. 

She suppressed a giggle, and he was pretty sure his face burned hotter than her fire had.  He could stand to take notes from Alphys and throw himself in the trash.

“Or not.  Whatever is comfortable for you,” she reassured him.  “Now, should we eat dinner before it gets cold?”

Eating was hardly something he could screw up at.

“Sure,” then after a pause, he tested, “Tori.”

Forget her fire magic.  Her smile could’ve heated the pizza all on its own.

XXX

For once in a hundred years, dinner was a warm and energetic affair.  In addition to the pizza, Papyrus had tossed together a salad from his fresh groceries, and Sans had briefly stepped out to grab a few orders of wings and fries.  In the end there was plenty of food for four hungry monsters.

Papyrus apologized for the lack of seating, but Toriel didn’t mind sitting on the couch squeezed between Sans and Undyne, eating off of paper plates.  She couldn’t imagine anywhere she would have felt more comfortable.

Before long, though, the day’s fatigue caught up with her.  She supposed it was to be expected—she wouldn’t regain her social stamina all at once.  

Sans caught her eye, and he nodded towards the stairs as Undyne and Papyrus “owned” each other in an MTT-Brand fighting game.

“Sorry.  I know they can be a bit much.” Sans rubbed the back of his skull.  

“They’re lovely.  I wish I had the energy to keep up with them.”  She smiled.

He leaned against the banister, smiling down at them.  Papyrus had gotten the upper hand this time, and was punching the air with joy.

“Me too,” Sans said, still looking away.  “I was thinking.  If you want a place to rest for the night, my bed’s open.”

She blinked.  Her face seemed to catch fire.  That was rather more… forward than she was expecting.  Sure, she had enjoyed his lighthearted flirting, and much as she tried to deny it, feelings had been growing in her for a long time.  But to have him return those feelings? And so boldly? It was as unfathomable as it was unlikely.

“I can get ya some fresh sheets, and I’ll crash in the shed.  My bro set up an, uh, guest room there when the human was in town.”

Oh.  She rubbed the heat from her face while he wasn’t looking.  How foolish could she be, to think he would be implying…? Well.

“I would not force you out of your room,” she said.  “If your brother prepared a guest room, I am sure that would be adequate.”

He let out a quick laugh.  “Uh, you’re not used to my brother’s… decorating.  Seriously, I don’t mind.”

She sighed.  If he insisted, she supposed it would be rude to deny his hospitality.

“Alright.  Thank you very much, Sans.”

“Great.”  He smiled back at her, then went into his brother’s room.  She waited patiently, and only jumped a little when he suddenly reappeared from the right hand door.  Perhaps the two rooms were connected in the back by a bathroom.

“Hotel Sans, one vacancy.”  He winked while holding the door open.

She chuckled behind her hand.  “You really did not have to resort to this.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t call it much of a resort.  The bed’s not even queen sized.”  He rubbed the back of his skull.

The bed was smaller than she was used to, but it did have fresh sheets.  That was the only fresh thing about the room.  Chisp crumbs had been brushed under the dresser, and… that was a tornado.  A self-sustaining trash tornado.  Though at least there was a pine-scented air freshener suspended in it.

“Sorry, it’s… really not much.  Uh.  Probably kinda insulting, expecting the Queen to sleep—”

“It’s perfect.”

He blinked.  “Huh?” 

“I am no stranger to a few crumbs, Sans.”

She remembered days that bled into weeks that bled into months.  Months where she couldn’t bring herself to clean, could hardly bring herself to care at all.  Months that had grown fewer and farther between since she’d met a friendly voice behind a door.

“I would’ve vacuumed,” he said sheepishly, “but I suck at it.”

More embarrassingly loud laughter burst from her.  In front of Sans, though, she didn’t feel the need to curtail her joy.

“Thank you.” She poured as much sincerity as she could into her voice.  

“‘S no problem, Tori.”  A light blue tinge warmed his cheekbones.  How could he possibly look so adorable? “Bathroom’s down the hall if you wanna wash up or anything.  And Undyne’ll be on the couch, so this is probably the safest place in the Underground right now.”

Her brow furrowed.  Sure enough, there was no bathroom door inside the room—he must have used one of his “shortcuts” to move from his brother’s room to here.

“So, uh.  I’ll be in the shed—uh, guest room if you need me.”  He flashed one more tense grin before turning to leave.

“Wait.” She stepped towards him without thinking.  

He looked up, one brow ridge raised.  She found herself biting her lip, wondering if she dared ask what her soul wanted.  It was silly, really.  She’d been on her own for years, decades.

Maybe that was why she was so hesitant to lose this one taste of companionship.

“I would feel… safer, if you would stay too.”  Her face burned beneath her fur, but she projected her usual composure.

“...Welp. Can’t say no to that, huh?”

She was about to reassure him that he could say no—that she was asking as his friend, not as his queen—but the soft smile on his face told her he already knew.  

He briefly left to grab a few things, then returned with a few pillows and, for some reason, a dog bed.

“You are not going to sleep on that,” she said in disbelief.

He flopped the dog bed in the middle of the floor and started fluffing it.  “Why not?  Gotta throw a dog bed a bone, right?”

“Sans.”  

The outdoor lights dimmed, as if at her command.  Only the colored Gyftmas lights outside and one dim indoor bulb lit the room.

Her confidence waned with the light.  What had she expected him to do?  She’d asked him to stay.  Unless she wanted to…

Oh, to hell with it.  She was too old to be so shy about these things.

“If you are not opposed,” she swallowed, “we could… share this mattress.”

When he looked up, she couldn’t make out his eyelights at all.  Their glow returned slowly, like the rising of the sun from her memories.

“Heh… you sure?  You don’t even know if I snore.”

She laughed and sat on the bed, patting the space beside her.  “You do not know if I snore, either.”

“Fair enough, Tori.”

They took turns cleaning up in the bathroom—she was imposing on Sans enough without adding the smell of dirty fur to his bed.  Then she did her best to ignore the flutterings in her soul as he slipped off his hoodie and climbed up onto the mattress.  She insisted he stay under the sheets; her fur would keep her warm enough with just the light blanket on top.  

The sheets were a barrier in name only.  There was only so much space on the mattress, so no matter how he adjusted and apologized, she could still feel the curve of his spine against hers.

It felt amazing.  It felt terrifying.  It felt like a mistake.  It felt like the only thing she’d ever done right.

The one saving grace of the whole situation was that it didn’t stir memories of Asgore.  Her royal beds had been triple the size of Sans’s lumpy mattress. She and her ex-husband had rarely slept back to back, and if they had, the feeling would have much different.

“...Tori?” Sans’s voice was just above a whisper.  “You, uh, still awake?”

As if she could sleep while enduring the wonderful agony of friendly touch for the first time in a century.

“Yes,” she replied softly.  “Am I taking up too much space?”

“No, ‘course not. I was just, uh… geez.” He sounded embarrassed.

Risking their precarious balance, she rolled over to face him.  Or to face the back of his skull, at least.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Doin’ sans-sational.” He chuckled to himself.  “Sorry.  Never got to use that one with you before.”

She would have laughed, had she not worried about shaking the whole mattress.

“It was sans-tastic,” she joked back, and he laughed again.

Then abruptly, his laughter cut off.

“Thanks, Tori,” he said in a quiet but firm voice.

“What for?” She wished she could take his hand, see his face, learn what thoughts were passing through his skull.  Instead she gave him as much space as physically possible… which still was not much.

A long, silent moment passed.  Had he fallen asleep?

“I know it’s not how you wanted,” he finally said, “but I’m glad I got to meet you.  So.  Thanks.”

Warmth spread outward from her soul to fill her whole body.  Sans could probably feel it radiating from her.

“Thank you, Sans.  If I had to return, knowing no one…”

He rolled to face her.  His eyelights were mere inches from her pupils.

“You would’ve been fine.  All you had to do was tell a few of your amazing jokes, and the whole Underground would’ve been linin’ up to be your pals.”

She suppressed a laugh.  “I hardly think that would be appropriate, under the circumstances.”

“Eh.”  He shrugged.  “Plenty of monsters in town cope with jokes.  You’d just be relating to the common folk.”

She stared into his sockets a little too intently.  At this distance, it easily made her dizzy.

“Would you be included in that demographic?” she couldn’t help asking.

“When I first met you?  For sure.” His gaze darted away.  “But it’s crazy.  Between you and the kid… I’m startin’ to think there’s more to life than good food and bad laughs.”

“Really?”  She and the child had made such an impact on him?

“I know.  Don’t tell Papyrus.  He wouldn’t believe you, anyway.” He winked.

“My lips are sealed.” She smiled.

Silence hung between them.  It should have felt awkward, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away.  In the end it was Sans who yawned in her face and then hurriedly flipped back onto his other side.

She laughed, and clearly she was exhausted too, because she pressed a kiss to the back of his skull without thinking.

He froze.  She froze.  There was no way to play that off gracefully.  And there was no way she could fall asleep and pretend that it had not happened.

“Heh… those didn’t feel very sealed to me,” he finally rasped out.

It took her a moment to process what he meant.  Meanwhile her embarrassment only burned hotter.

“I am so sorry—”

“I’m not.” When he rolled back to face her, his face was bright blue.  “You’ll still be here when I wake up, right?”

His question was tinged with desperation.

“Of course,” she answered automatically, despite the many responsibilities that she would have to attend to in the morning.  She was the Queen once more.  If she had to, she could adjust the schedule of meetings and speeches to accommodate… this.

Whatever this was to be.

“Remind me in the morning,” he squeezed her hand, “that this is real.”

His hand quickly went limp.  She was worried for a moment, before she heard the faint snore escape his nasal cavity.

She gave him a fond smile, and allowed her own eyes to close.  She did not know if sleep would come or not.  She did not know what challenges the new day would bring, or what old challenges would continue to rear their heads.

But she did know that she was not alone.  For tonight, that was enough.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Don’t Gotta Work it Out

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: A particularly nasty fight rattles your relationship with Loki. Even as both of you wonder if you’re not meant to work things out, you long to be in each other’s arms. But can you make amenjds before your hope is gone? Warnings: mentions of depression; angst, some more angst, then a lot more angst, and finally a fluffy ending A/N: inspired by the song Don’t Gotta Work it Out by Fitz and the Tantrums. I’m experimenting with a new style, so flashbacks in italics! Hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki had signed himself up for the mission before the words even left Tony’s mouth. He didn’t care where he was going or what he was doing, just so long as he was away from you. You’d gotten into a fight—a bad one. Somehow, Loki’s way of dealing with it was running away. Whether that was because of pride, pettiness, or cowardice, he wasn’t really sure. Then again, he was avoiding thinking about it as much as possible.

“I have volunteered for a mission,” he told you, the sentence short and clipped as he entered your shared quarters. “I leave at midnight.”

“Oh,” you replied, rolling over on your bed so you were facing your boyfriend. He’d already grabbed his bag and started packing. “That’s nice.”

A small hum of acknowledgement was all he made in the way of a response. He perched on the edge of the bed as he tugged on his boots. Right as he finished with the last buckle and was making ready to stand, your arms suddenly encircled his waist. For a minute, the room was filled with hesitation and quiet breathing, a spell of tension only broken when Loki’s hand alighted on top of yours. Not to say everything was fixed between you two, but the anxious energy in the room calmed a bit.

“Just... Come back safe, ok?” you said, your voice so soft, it just barely registered in his mind.

“Alright,” he whispered back. Your forehead rested in between his shoulder blades, and his thumb involuntarily began rubbing small circles on your skin. “I will.”

How Loki wished for more, for the passionate kisses that you usually shared before a mission. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen now. It might even be wrong considering how mad you were at each other, everything you’d said. Though, if it really was wrong, Loki didn’t think he much would have minded; it still would have felt good. Felt normal. Not like whatever messed up situation you were in right now.

You and the trickster god had been dating for over a year and, as any couple would, had a few squabbles. But nothing like what you’d gone through the other day. Loki shuddered now, just thinking about it. It started out stupid, as these things tend to, but turned into something much more serious. He tried to push it from his mind as you placed a featherlight kiss to the base of his neck. Then you pulled away, hugging your knees to your chest. Now it was Loki’s turn to look at you. His hand hovered above your knee for a second before he lost his nerve and let it fall to the mattress.

“I have to go now,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”

You nodded, and Loki walked to the door, looking back at you one last time. You’d already rolled over so your back was to him again, but he could tell you were crying from the way you were breathing. It made his heart break, but all he could do was whisper a small “I love you” and hope you heard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh. You’re awake,” you said, entering your quarters.

“I am,” Loki replied, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. There was an open book in his lap, and you couldn’t help but wonder how long ago he’d given up on reading in favor of a contemplative trance, looking at the flames. “And you are home now. Are we all caught up?”

“Ok, it’s past someone’s bedtime,” you answered him, catching on to the ice in his voice. “And no, we’re not all caught up. What’s wrong?”

“You could have invited me.”

You’d gone bowling with roughly half the team, only leaving a note for Loki so he knew where you were. You huffed as you tossed your keys onto the dresser. Leaning back on it, you surveyed his face, set in a harsh manner.

“Sorry,” you shrugged. “You were in the shower, and I knew you wouldn’t want to come, anyway.”

“And what if I did?”

“Then, sorry again. You can come next time.”

“Oh, can I now?”

You pushed off the dresser and walked over to him, rubbing his shoulders a little. He didn’t shake you off, but he didn’t relax at all either. You frowned and walked around to the front of the chair, planting yourself in his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, but his face was still stuck in a scowl.

“What’s this really about?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“It hardly matters.”

You clenched your jaw a bit. You love Loki, but it’s hard to deal with him when he gets like this.

“If you’re going to brush it off,” you said, forcing a smile, “then don’t act so obviously upset and angry. I’m always here to talk, but if you’re not going to, then don’t pick a fight.”

“It seems to me you are the one picking a fight.”

“Yeah, ok. Whatever,” you snapped, standing up. You waited for him to clench his fists or give some sign he was feeling something, but he was as unreadable as ever. “I’ll just never have fun without you. Sound good?”

“You are blowing this out of proportion, darling,” he drawled. “You can calm down.”

“Oh, can I now?” you answered with a smug smile, the petty parts of you egging you on to parrot back his words from earlier.

He sprung up from his chair and approached you fast as lightning. It startled you, and you gasped, walking until your back was against the wall. Loki menaced over you, placing one hand next to your head. He made sure to leave the other side open so you could get away if you really wanted to. You didn’t, instead staring defiantly into his eyes.

“You should,” he growled. “Just invite me next time and drop this nonsense.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as he made to spin away from you. “Just because no one’s ever cared to listen to you before doesn’t mean you get to make yourself a martyr.”

Your hands immediately flew to your mouth. Loki had shared everything about his past with you. Really and truly, every painful memory. Every ugly, gritty moment. You knew how much stuff like that damaged him. He spun back around, rage plain on his face, and a deep hurt lurking behind his eyes.

“Loki, I’m so sorry,” you said, rushing toward him. “I didn’t mean-”

He put up a hand to stop both your words and approach. “No. I think you did. It is my fault for believing a mortal of all beings could have any depth of understanding, of feeling. For thinking you could love me. The joke is on me, I suppose, hmm?”

He scoffed and stalked toward the door, refusing to let you see the tears in his eyes. He was yanking on the knob before you could even say his name again. The last thing he saw before slamming the door behind him was you crumpling on the ground in a sobbing mess. As he stomped down the hall, his own tears began to pour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Loki, are you even trying to sleep?” Bruce asked from across the hotel room.

Tony had taken a room for himself and stuck Bruce and Loki together in an adjoining one. Thankfully, it had two beds, but Loki was still a little pissed. Honestly, he’d considered just skipping the hotel and going on a walk, a long walk. Instead, he was laying with his eyes open and glued to the ceiling, reliving the fight in his mind over and over again.

“Yes, Banner, I am,” the god huffed. “I am just not having any success.”

“Is there... something on your mind?” Bruce hesitantly asked. He and Loki were far from best friends, but he figured it would be considerate to ask.

“Actually, there is,” he sighed.

“Do you, uh, want to... talk about it?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “I suppose you are a doctor, after all.”

“Not that kind but-”

“My beloved and I have gotten into an argument, and now I am on this mission. So, we have not made up. I fear we never will.”

“Oh, come one. I’ve seen you two. How bad could it be?”

Loki sighed and sat up on the bed, recounting the story. He did his best to keep the tears out of his eyes and emotion out of his voice, and was met with far more success on the first front than the second.

“Yikes,” Bruce said when he finished. “I mean, they tried to say they didn’t mean it. And I’m sure you didn’t either. So maybe just try to talk?”

“Perhaps. Or maybe we are not supposed to work it out.”

“That’s crazy. Look at you right now; you can’t stop thinking about them.”

“And do you think they are thinking of me?”

“You know what, yeah. I do.”

Loki just mumbled his thanks and flipped onto his side so he was facing the wall now. Bruce went back to sleep, and Loki prayed that slumber would claim him. It did not, and he spent the whole night wishing for you. That he had never said those awful things. That he had never even been given the opportunity to know you, for if he didn’t, he never would have hurt you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You laid on the floor crying for hours. The notion that Loki would come back and wrap you in a hug and talk about what happened didn’t leave you be for hours. And then, all of a sudden, it did. Then you just felt empty and tired. Somehow, you managed to pick yourself up and drag yourself into bed, still in your clothes from the day. You waited another hour, still believing Loki would come back, if even just to lay beside you in the bed you shared and say nothing. When it became clear he wouldn’t, you submit to the tears still stinging the back of your eyes, and cried yourself to sleep.

Waking up the next morning, you didn’t immediately remember what had happened. You felt the empty space next to you where your boyfriend usually was. You listened for the running water of the shower that you could always hear on the mornings he wasn’t beside you. The silence was deafening.

“Loki?” you called out to the vacant room.

Only the echo of your voice answered you. Suddenly, the memory of the night before came crashing back into your mind. A strangled sob escaped your lips. You desperately looked around, frantically searching, begging, for some sort of sign that he’d returned in the night and had just left before you awakened. There was no indication that such a thing had happened.

Moving on autopilot, you found yourself in the shower. You tried to wash, but mainly just stood there and let the scalding spray run over you. Eventually, the stream turned cold as you used up the last of the warm water. You always enjoyed how plushy the towels in the Tower were, but you hardly noticed it as you dried off. Some water still dripping off you, you pulled on your robe. The mirror revealed that your eyes were still a little puffy from crying. Your pruny fingers touched the reddened skin, but you couldn’t be bothered to do anything to cover it up.

“You’re back,” you gasped, walking back out into the bedroom.

He was sitting in a chair, different from the one last night, this time actually reading the book he had. He looked so composed that it made you embarrassed by your appearance. You were sure he was just as much a mess on the inside as you were, though. At least you hoped he was.

“Mhm,” he replied. “And you are dripping on the carpet.”

You looked down where, surely enough, a small wet spot was gathering from the droplets rolling off your body. Everything was moving at half speed in your mind because of how drained you were, both physically and emotionally.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

He didn’t even really acknowledge it as he sidestepped around you and into the bathroom. A few seconds later, you heard the shower turn on. Summoning all your strength, you managed to get dressed for the day, encasing yourself in your most comfortable clothes. You looked at the door and considered getting something to eat, but the pull of your warm blankets was too great. The bed, devoid of your lover, reminded you too much of last night, though. You grabbed the blankets off and swaddled yourself in them on the couch. You tried to shut out the world and go back to sleep. It didn’t work.

“Darling?” Loki softly called as the bathroom door opened.

You wanted to reply, you really did, but it felt like too much effort to peel your eyes open and will your voice to work. So, you listened as he padded over to where you were. He sighed and left, leaving your quarters silent once more. You didn’t even have the energy left to cry.

Roughly ten minutes later, you heard the god come back in and set something on the coffee table. The aroma of pancakes, bacon, and tea flooded your senses seconds after, and you felt your heart somehow swell and break at the same moment. Loki’s hand softly touched your cheek and caressed it so gently, it seemed he was afraid you might break.

“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered.

Loki kissed the top of your head as gently as he had touched your cheek, his damp hair tickling your skin. He stood up and, though you couldn’t see, felt him turn and look at you once more. Then the door closed, and the strength to cry returned to your body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Please, Steve,” you beseeched. “Just tell me where he is.”

“I’m sorry, you know I can’t.” He truly did look hurt that he had to keep this from you, especially when he noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “It’s top secret.”

You were trying to figure out where Loki was, if he was ok. You should have asked him more about the mission; he would have told you where he was going, rules be damned. But you hadn’t, so he hadn’t, and now he’d been gone for three days with no word on when he’d return. You tried his cell phone, but Steve had at least informed you that they had to turn off anything that could be tracked for the mission.

You felt so awful about what you’d said, the guilt gnawing at your heart every minute of every day, every dream of every night. If he were to die before you could work it out... you just didn’t know what you would do. Even if you never made up, you just needed him to make it back safely. Maybe you didn’t have to work it out, shouldn’t. Maybe you were a toxic poison ruining his life. Refusing to cry in front of Steve, you pushed the thought from your mind.

“But he’s my boyfriend. Doesn’t that count for something more than the rules?” you pleaded, the look of desperation in your eyes only growing.

“Sorry, but it doesn’t. Look, it would be different if you were married. What I can tell you,” he said with a sigh, and a quick glance over his shoulder, “is that he’s alive and safe.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled. “I guess that’s something, at least. When will he be back?”

“Soon, ok?”

“Ok,” you sniffled again.

You trudged over to the couch in the common room, trying to spend time someplace other than your room for the first time since the fight. Besides quick meals, you’d just been moping in your quarters. The thought crossed your mind that you were probably depressed, that you should get up and exercise or move about. Despite the knowledge of that, you couldn’t actually muster up the willpower to act on it. Instead, you flipped on the TV and pulled the blanket hanging over the back of the sofa snugly around your shoulders. The voice of Gordon Ramsey faded into background noise as you stared out the window, foolishly and fruitlessly hoping that you’d see Loki’s ship flying in.

“Monday,” Steve sighed, setting a mug of hot chocolate on a coaster for you.

“What?” you asked, slightly bewildered after abruptly being pulled from your trance.

“Don���t tell anyone I told you, but Loki’s coming back on Monday.” Steve sat beside you and comfortingly pat your back as you expressed your gratitude. “Can I give you some advice, though?”

“Please.”

“Whatever happened between you two, you can work it out. I promise.”

“I just feel so bad, Steve. I said something horrible that I never should have.” You bit your lip before continuing, nervous you were oversharing. The way your companion was sympathetically nodding his head, however, urged you on. “And then he said something awful too. And now he’s gone, and no one will even tell me where to find him. Maybe it’s a sign that we shouldn’t work it out. That we’re not right for each other.”

“Come on, that’s just the fear talking. I know sometimes the team grumbles about you guys, but it’s only because you’re so sweet together.” He waited for some sign of recognition that what he was saying was true to click on your face before continuing. “Take it from me, you don’t want to let an opportunity to pass you by; even more so when it comes to being with someone you love. You have to make the most of every moment. But you also have to be willing to work through your disagreements, even if they’re particularly bad. Heck, especially then.”

“Thanks, Steve.” You managed a smile. It was small, but it was also the first one that had made its way onto your face in nearly a week. Not only did you realize you had great friends surrounding you, but you felt a spark of hope that you could repair things with Loki. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. Now, want to come for a training session? Take your mind off things for a bit?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m still not really feeling up to it. But soon, I promise,” you added when a flash of worry danced across his face.

He gave a nod and one final friendly pat on the shoulder, then was off. You went back to staring out the window, now gently sipping on your cocoa. It was still a bit too hot, and it burnt your tongue a little. You knew you should wait until it cooled, but the pain kept you tethered to the earth instead of floating away. You also knew what Loki would say to that so, after a few more sips, you set it down to let it become a more drinkable temperature. As you waited, you let your mind be filled with thoughts of Loki, wondering if he was thinking of you too. Soon, your eyes were drooping shut, and you succumbed to dreams of happier times with your beloved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day passed much the same, with you pretending to be asleep. Loki knew you were awake at some point, at least, to eat the food he’d brought. Otherwise, he would have flown into a panic that his little mortal was unwell. Or, more unwell than just in an emotional sense, anyway. There was one point where he saw your eyes crack open and look at him as he sat nearby, switching between reading and thinking. You didn’t say anything, though, so neither did he.

“Brother?” Thor said, knocking at the door. “Are you two in there?”

Loki rushed to the door and, opening it, shushed the God of Thunder. He gently closed the door behind him as not to wake you, thinking you may really be asleep now.

“We are, brother,” he whispered. “Why?”

“The team has not seen either of you all day. Is everything alright? Are either of you ill? Or perhaps you’re just having fun in there?” Thor playfully elbowed his brother in the ribs and suggestively wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, and why are we whispering?”

“Because my beloved is sleeping.” Loki felt a prick of fear in his heart. Maybe he had lost the privilege of calling you his beloved. “We are ok. Relatively.”

“Relatively?”

“Yes. We... We had a fight,” Loki exhaled. “It was not pretty.”

“But you are going to work it out, right?” Thor sighed when Loki said nothing. “Oh, come on, brother. You must talk to them.”

“I will. At some point.”

With some final words of encouragement, Thor let his brother be. Loki took a deep breath and reentered his room. You were sitting up on the couch, twiddling with your thumbs, eyes cast down. He tentatively sat at the end by your feet. Elbows on his knees, he buried his head in his hands.

“Well,” he said to the floor, “are we going to talk about it?”

He felt you flinch at how angry he sounded, while he mentally kicked himself for the same reason. He peeked out from behind his hands, trying to compose himself so he could speak to you in a calm voice.

“I mean,” you said, “if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, and you do not want it?” he snapped, silently cursing himself again.

“Please,” you scoffed, “don’t do anything for my sake.”

Now you were both angry at yourselves, and completely honestly, the other too. When it became clear neither of you was going to say anything else, Loki stood to leave. He spun back around when he heard you mumble something under your breath.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said in a too-sweet voice, making the pet name sound more like a threat or a mockery than anything else. “I did not quite get that. Would you like to speak up?”

“Yeah,” you snarled, this time loud enough for him to hear. “I said, ‘so you’re really just gonna walk out again, huh?’”

“Oh, allow me to apologize. I must have been making myself a martyr again, hmm? Was that not what you said last night? Or perhaps that was just me blowing things out of proportion again?” He looked down at you as a panic flooded every inch of your body. Loki wanted to stop, but his floodgates had been opened. “But I thought that no one cared to listen to me. Again, I do believe those are your words, not mine.”

“That’s not- I didn’t- I’m not-” you struggled to form a coherent sentence. “I didn’t mean that!”

“No? But it is what you said. Perhaps it was that ever condemning Freudian slip of the tongue? Or do you think yourself so special, mortal, that you care? For I know no one else ever has; I did not need you to tell me that,” he spat.

“You know what?” you laughed without mirth. “You’re right, this isn’t what I want.”

Loki knew he’d pushed too far. His voice grew immensely softer as he spoke again. Not in a kind way, but in a way that showed he was afraid.

“And what exactly, do you mean by ‘this’?”

“This, what we’re doing now. I don’t know what it is, but if it’s your way of talking about what’s wrong and working it out, it’s not what I want. I guess you should just go, Loki.”

Loki hated himself. No, that wasn’t strong enough. He loathed himself, utterly and completely. He slammed the door behind him, and immediately sank back against it, falling to the floor. Neither of you heard the other’s sobs over your the sound of your own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though Monday was only two days after Steve told you it would be the date of Loki’s arrival, it felt like years elapsed in those forty-eight hours. By some miracle that, you thought with a tiny laugh, Loki would have said was thanks to the Norns, you managed to get yourself into a presentable state. Shower? Check. Teeth brushed? Check. Eyes normal and not red from crying? As checked as it could be.

Steve had promised that he’d get Loki to go to your room straight away. You figured if you two were going to have it out again, it should be in private. Though, you were hoping it would go a great deal better than last time. You could only hope that some time and space was all the two of you would need to finally work through this.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the doorknob turned and Loki shuffled in. The door softly clicked shut behind him, and you tried to quell your worry that your conversation would end with him slamming it again. He dropped his bag at his feet, and for a second, the world stopped. You just looked at each other, both too afraid to end the moment of peace.

“I am back,” he gently said, opening his arms to you.

You took a single hesitant step forward before fully launching yourself into his arms. He caught you with surprising grace, and though he seemed unsure of himself, calmly rubbed your back.

“Can we... Can we try again?” you asked, pulling back enough so you could look into his beautiful, blue-green eyes. “The working things out, I mean. Can we try that again?”

“Yes, my darling.” The pet name had returned to something more gentle, holding the usual care and affection it did. “I’d love nothing more.”

Hand in hand, you walked toward the couch. This time you sat with bodies angling towards each other, already starting off on a high note. It made both of you feel the other was much more willing to listen to what you had to say.

“Shall I start?” he asked, cupping your cheek.

“No, I want to go first.” Your hand rested on top of his and you leaned into his touch. “If that’s alright with you?”

“It is. Please, speak your mind, my sweet.”

You took a steadying breath before you began. “Look, I’m so sorry for what I said. I was frustrated, and I lashed out. But that’s no excuse for it. I never in a million years should have said what I did. It was wrong and insensitive. And I do care for you so, so much on so, so many different levels. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that. I will spend every day of the rest of my life reassuring you that I love you, Loki. I love you.”

“I accept your apology, and I love you, too.” A single tear rolled down his cheek, but you knew it was from happiness. After all, several tears of the same emotion had fallen down your own cheeks. “Now, it is my turn to say I am sorry. I was unreceptive, pushy, snappy, and cruel. I should not have responded in that manner, and I should have been more open to working through the problem. My insecurities got the better of me, but I promise I will try to keep them at bay. Because I have you, darling, and I love you. And I have no doubt that you do feel the same.”

“I forgive you, too, Loki. I’m ready to put this behind us if you are.”

“Absolutely I am,” he replied, smiling—really smiling—for what felt like the first time in a century. “And, if I may be so bold, I do believe we have a week’s worth of kisses to make up for.”

“The math checks out,” you giggled, leaning in. “I certainly wouldn’t be opposed if you wanted to start playing catch up now.”

“It is like you have read my mind.”

You gave him one quick peck on the lips before he pulled you flush against him and kissed you like there was no tomorrow. Maybe it was because he’d been so worried that there wouldn’t be. But, in the end, there was. Because you worked it out. Because you loved each other. Because you were two hearts connected as one in the crazy journey called life. And you’d always find a way to work through your differences. For, deep down, you both knew you were meant to be together, would always find your way back to each other. There was nothing either of you believed more, and you’d never doubt it again.

[mikwrites-archive]

eastside

✧  pairing: lee jihoon x fem!reader        ✧  warnings: mentions of fights, blood, but very brief!! ✧  genre: bad boy au, fluff        ✧  wc: 1.8k

✧  a/n: call call call jihoon lives in my mind rent free!!! mayhaps this is inspired by that song w khalid and halsey and not entirely proofread bc im tired n going to bed hwjbsdjhs 

You met Lee Jihoon in your mathematics class during your last year of high school, where you sat by the daydream filled window, and he sat behind you, his own mind occupied by the living daydream in front of him. 

But he never spoke to you, and you to him, until one morning you turned around, ignoring the gawking gazes of your friends, asking him if he was alright. 

He supposed you were referring to the bruised lip and scabbed knuckles from the nasty fistfight in the park last night that was circulating around the student body, but all he could manage to stammer was:

“I’m fine, and you?”

You smiled at him sweetly.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“That’s so embarrassing.” Jihoon groans. “How do you even remember that?” 

“How could I forget my first conversation with bad boy Lee Jihoon?”

“Don’t call me that.” Jihoon narrows his eyes, and it’s clear you’re not impressed as you cross your arms, so he pins you against the glass pane of the bus stop bench, and you melt into giggles.

“Bad boy Lee Jihoon who’s secretly a softie.” You singsong, and he pinches your side as you squirm.

“I asked nicely, baby.” He murmurs against your cheek.

“Not fair.” You whine at the use of the petname, face burning hotly as he grins.

The bus screeches to a stop, and you both hop on hand in hand, trailing all the way to the tail of the bus. Jihoon takes out a tangle of headphones and his battered portable CD player.

“This is new.”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I’d been working on it for a few weeks and I think it’s finally done.”

“It’s good. Really good.” You know your opinion is far from professional, but to Jihoon, it means just as much of not more.

“This is our stop.” You prompt him once the bus jolts to a standstill, rising, but Jihoon tugs you back down and you don’t protest, falling back to his side curiously.

“I have a surprise. It’s just a little bit further.” He explains.

He takes you to a small auto garage he says a friend of his owns, lifting the overhead door to reveal a classic blue Corvette.

“I’ve been saving up for it.” He puffs up triumphantly. “Almost have the payment down.”

“It’s beautiful.” You smile, running your hand over the hood. 

“Then we can go anywhere.”

“Anywhere?”

The glowing sun illuminates Jihoon’s smile, and your breath is taken away at the beauty of it.

“Anywhere.”

“Word has been going around that you’ve been hanging around that boy, Lee Jihoon.”

“Have I?” You respond airily, your parents exchanging a look, the scraping of forks and knives decreasing by two. You can’t say you’re surprised they’d found out about Jihoon, but you are slightly impressed it’s being brought up so soon at dinner.

“Don’t play coy. It’s unbecoming.” Your father glares, but you know he’s not truly upset until he’s at least discovered your intentions.

“We’ve taught you better than to play around with boys like him.” Your mother purses her lips in disapproval, and you set down your cutlery.

“I’m not playing around. I’m quite serious about it.” At your father’s raised eyebrow, you hurry on. “We’re friends. He lets me listen to his music. He makes nice songs. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

You’re not entirely lying.

Jihoon’s lips are slightly chapped, his mouth pressing slowly against yours as if you had all the time in the world under the flickering lights at the very back of the bus, hands gently gripping your waist. Your own hands rest on his chest, and he wonders if you can feel the way it races under the leather and studs. 

It’s reluctant, the way he pulls away once the driver droningly announces your stop. He helps you hop off the bus, and as you both begin to walk, he clasps your hand in his.

“I’m gonna marry you one day.”

Your heart feels suspended in that moment, as if Jihoon had caught it in his hands, leaping and jumping, and it’s not until Jihoon halts, gazing at you curiously that you turn and smile incredulously at him.

“Don’t I get any say in this?”

A flush washes over his features as he realizes, sputtering apologies, and you laugh. 

“I’m only kidding.” You sigh fondly, and Jihoon shrugs.

“Well, I’m not. I really mean it. If you’ll say yes when the time comes of course.” Jihoon states, steadfast, and you swallow. “I don’t mean to freak you out or anything-” he starts as he sees your expression, but you cut him off, smiling.

“I want a big house.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nod, giggling. “With a pool and everything.”

“Anything for you.” Jihoon promises, and you blink. You think this is what it means, to say you love someone without uttering those fated three words. “I’ll give it all to you.”

Jihoon’s not a liar. 

You know he’d tell you anything, give you anything, within the limitations of his comfort and wants, yet it still makes you nervous to ask him, like the first day you bolstered your courage to speak to him.

“Hey, Ji?”

“Hm?” He’s immersed in his textbook, frowning as he taps his pencil along to a rhythm only he could hear.

“I know you don’t really like going to dances, but it’s our last year, and I was wondering if you wanted to come to one with me? I can go myself if you really don’t want to since my friends are going-”

“I’ll take you.” Jihoon sets his pencil down, a small smile on his face.

“Really?” You exclaim, repeating it more quietly when you remember you’re in the library, leaning towards him excitedly.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not just saying that to make me happy?” You narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“It could be fun,” he shrugs, lips quirking up as he returns to his work, and you scoot around the table, pressing a kiss to his cheek giddily.

“Thank you.”

“Okay, okay.” Jihoon flushes. “Don’t thank me. At least not here.”

“He’s here.”

Your mother’s disapproval is palpant as she lets you know from your doorway, obvious now that your previous conversation had been a lie and that you and that boy, weren’t just friends.

“Tell him I’ll be down soon please.”

Your mother softens at the way your expression lights up at her words. She trails behind you with the camera when you walk as fast as you can down the stairs, a brilliant smile on your face when you see Jihoon.

He’s talking (albeit stiffly) with your father, breaking away when he meets your gaze, and you make a note to question him about that later.

“You look beautiful.” Jihoon whispers. His hands flutter, as if wanting to move to touch you, but with your parents standing to the side watching, he doesn’t dare.

You, however, gently smooth the lapels of his suit jacket, smiling tentatively.

“Thank you. You look very handsome.”

“Now, smile for the picture,” your mother interjects, and Jihoon gathers the will to place his arm lightly around your waist.

“You know when to be home.” Your father tells you sternly before swerving to Jihoon. “Not a second late.”

“Yes sir.” Jihoon shifts uncomfortably, and you smile.

“Please don’t tell me we’re taking the bus.” You murmur under your breath as you step out the house.

Jihoon guffaws. He pulls out his jangling keys, twirling them around his finger proudly. In your driveway rests the blue Corvette.

“No baby. We’re not.”

“Did you really have to get into a fight?” You sigh, dabbing gently at Jihoon’s bloody lip in the backseat.

“That bastard didn’t know when to shut his mouth.” He spits red over the side of the car, and your chest rises and falls deeply in exasperation once again. 

The silence makes Jihoon uneasy, gently taking the ice pack you were preparing and placing it over his bruised cheek himself.

“C’mon baby. I’m sorry.” Jihoon wheedles, tugging you down on his lap, lips puckering in an apologetic pout. “I know how excited you were about the dance.”

You’re not actually upset about missing the dance, if you’re honest, but you do love to vex Jihoon a little bit when necessary. 

“That’s not working this time. I’m upset with you. You’re on a kissing ban until the foreseeable future.”

“What?” He gawks, and you smirk. “But-”

“No buts.”

“But... what if I told you a secret?”

You hesitate.

“I’m listening.”

“I love you.” He softens, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on the sides of your hips, and you cup his face tenderly with a beaming smile.

“I know. You’re horrible at keeping secrets.”

“Are not!”

“Mm... Kind of.”

“Only with you.” He grumbles and your laugh sounds like wind chimes swept by a summer’s breeze. 

“I love you too.”

“I know.” 

Time flies by fast after that.

Too fast. And before you and Jihoon know it, it’s the day before graduation. A day before your future becomes something other than riding the rattling Corvette, stealing kisses under streetlights, and sharing headphones. 

“I’m leaving after graduation.” 

Your eyes flicker across the grassy knolls from where you’d set down a picnic blanket for you both to sit on in the park, pursing your lips lightly as you think of how to respond. Jihoon barrels on anxiously.

“I’ve made enough with performing a little, and I sent in some of my lyrics to some companies and they really like it. They want me to work with them.”

“That’s really amazing, Ji.” And you mean it, finally turning to face him, and he smiles, a heartbreaking smile.

“I’m gonna come back.” He swallows. “I mean, for visits for sure, but when I do... will you still be here? I still gotta marry you y’know. Big house with a pool and all.” He adds on partly as a joke and partly as a quiet reminder.

You smile at the words, leaning on his shoulder.

“Don’t make me wait too long, okay?”

“I’m tired.”

Jihoon leans his head on your shoulder, murmuring, and you laugh.

“Ji, this is our wedding. Am I boring you?”

“Never.” He huffs. “You never bore me. But I think I’ve heard enough of the BooSeokSoon trio singing tonight.”

“Wait,” you lift him off of you apologetically. “I’ll be right back. My grandma is flirting with Mingyu.”

You maneuver around, beelining towards Mingyu who politely kept denying your grandmother’s affectionate touches to his arm and chest at the refreshments table. Jihoon laughs at the sight.

When you finally distract your grandmother (Mingyu sending you a grateful glance before scurrying away), your father sidles up to you.

“He told me, years ago, that he’d marry you y’know.” Your father states gruffly after a reminiscent pause, and you’re not surprised, thinking of prom night. You’d giggled uncontrollably when Jihoon confessed his teenage determination to your father that evening, much to your parent’s disbelief. “Guess he proved me wrong.”

A comfortable pause fills the gaps. You watch as Jihoon eggs the others on into teasing Mingyu about his encounter with your grandmother, an amused smile blooming on your features.

“He treats you well?”

Jihoon catches your gaze, sending you a wink. Happiness glows in your chest.

“Always.” 

✧  taglist: @seijoh​ @soranihimawari​ @peachy-yabbay​

[oikawaplssteponme]

peach scone - hobo johnson

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x fem! reader

genre: angst, unrequited love

ratings/warnings: sfw, swearing, reader has a crappy boyfriend

word count: 1,327 words

synopsis: “he falls in love with a girl, girl already has a boyfriend, she kinda loves him back, but not really, they're just really good friends, and that's fine, he understands, it's rational”

a/n: this is kinda a song fic, kinda not. i just love this song and wanted to write something kinda related to it. i’ve been writing a lot for bnha so i thought it was about time i get back to Haikyuu :)) reblogs are super helpful <3 fic under the cut

•

Kuroo Tetsurou was indefinitely, undoubtedly, incredibly, in love with you. He was. He was in so deep. Deeply in love with his best friend. Kuroo certainly didn’t plan to fall for you, sometimes these things just happen. He just so happened to look at you differently one day and come to terms with all the suppressed feelings from his childhood. Seeing you as more than just the girl who would bandage his scraped knees after falling off of his bike. Seeing you as more than just the girl front row of all his volleyball matches. Seeing you as someone he loved. Not the friendship kind of love. The kind where you want to wake up next to this person every morning. The kind where you want to be with them through good times and bad. Kuroo wanted that with you and you alone.

He could look at you for hours. He could listen to whatever nonsense came out of your lips and believe it to be the most interesting thing he’s ever heard. He tried telling you. He did. You thought he was joking most of the time. How cliché of him to fall for you. You disregarded every time he called you pretty, assuming him to be messing with you. He loved the thought of just being with you. Maybe it was just better than being alone though.

~

You had asked Kuroo to meet you at your favorite bakery. The bakery where you two would always go. It was your spot. The spot where you would sip chai lattes and he would try his best not to fall for you even more.

As Kuroo approached the bakery, he spotted you instantly. You were talking to someone. He had never seen this person before. Maybe they were a stranger, asking for directions. Maybe they were a relative? Kuroo simply walked up to you, hoping the man would leave you alone.

“Hey Y/N! Is this guy bothering you?” asked Kuroo. You laughed.

“Oh Tetsurou you’re here! Oh no not at all! Good that the two of you can finally meet now,” you cheered. Kuroo raised a brow.

“Y/N who is this?”

“Kuroo, meet my boyfriend…”

Kuroo’s world seemed to have crumbled into a million tiny pieces. Boyfriend? You had a boyfriend, and it wasn’t Kuroo.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He held out his hand for Kuroo to shake. Kuroo stared at his hand, still rattling from the shock he just endured.

“Yeah it’s, uh, nice to meet you too…” Kuroo reluctantly shook his hand firmly. The two of them made uncomfortable eye contact.

“Why don’t we head inside and grab something to eat? I’d love for the two of you to get to know each other!” You smiled. Kuroo couldn’t believe it. The little bakery was your spot. Just for the two of you. Not for the two of you plus your new boyfriend.

“I actually just remembered that I was supposed to meet Kenma for something. I’ve, uh, I’ve gotta head out,” stuttered Kuroo. You titled your head.

“Are you sure? You can’t stay for a bit?” You asked. Kuroo shook his head.

“Yeah I’m sure…”

“At least let me buy you something to eat before you go,” you insisted. You grabbed Kuroo’s arm, pulling him inside. He couldn’t say no to you.

The three of you stood in line of the bakery. Your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you as you kissed his cheek. Kuroo’s fists were clenched so tightly he could probably turn a rock to dust. Your boyfriend looked back at Kuroo.

“You alright man?” He asked teasingly. He was doing it on purpose. He knew damn well that Kuroo had to like you for more than just a friend, and he would use that to his advantage.

“I’m all good.”

You placed your order at the bakery register. You handed Kuroo his treat.

“Well I wish you could’ve stayed longer. Maybe next time?” You sighed. Kuroo nodded.

“Yeah…”

Kuroo headed for the door, before getting pulled back by the boyfriend. He had grabbed the back collar of Kuroo’s shirt.

“Watch it.”

He let go of Kuroo. Kuroo didn’t reply, simply rushing out the door. Kuroo looked back at the bakery, seeing you and your boyfriend sitting at the table you and Kuroo always would.

He looked down at the small bag you had handed him. He opened it up. A peach scone. Kuroo chuckled. He had mentioned to you once that the peach scone was the last one at the bakery he had yet to try. He took a bite of the pastry. He sighed. He was sure it would taste better if he were sharing it with you.

~

During the weeks that followed, all Kuroo heard about was you and your boyfriend. How your boyfriend wouldn’t answer your texts. How he would go out partying without you. How he made you mad in every possible way.

Kuroo laid in the grass of his lawn next to you. You were word vomiting every possible pet peeve that you had towards your boyfriend. Kuroo listened, knowing he would be a much better fit for you.

“...what do you think?” You finished off your rant. Kuroo turned to look at you.

“Your boyfriend made you mad the other day, and you’re asking what I think? Well he was being mean at that part...but I’m sure he’s gonna turn around at some point…”

“Tetsu I’m serious. How do I fix this?”

“You break up with him.”

You sat up, crossing your arms as you looked at Kuroo.

“I’m not doing that.”

Kuroo sat up as well, annoyed now.

“Why the hell not? Your boyfriend’s a bitch Y/N.”

“Kuroo-”

“He’s a total jackass and doesn’t deserve you one bit! Why do you stay with him!?” Kuroo was visibly upset, raising his voice slightly to get his point across.

“Because I-I…”

“See! You can’t even give me a good reason! God damnit Y/N I’m sick of hearing about your boyfriend who is the human embodiment of garbage-”

“-Why are you with him when you could be with me!?”

Kuroo didn’t realize what he had said until after he said it. Your eyes forming tears in the corners.

“Kuroo…”

“I’m not gonna take it back. I’m serious. Y/N I am so in love with you and it kills me to see you with him!”

Kuroo took hold of your hand.

“I’m not trying to get into the way of whatever two of you have because if you truly love him then who am I to get in the way? Cause that shit happens once in a lifetime but you are my once in a lifetime Y/N. So please, if it weren’t for him please tell me it would be me.”

Your tears poured down your face. You couldn’t give Kuroo the answer he wanted.

“I-I do love h-him…”

“Do you really? Or do you just not love me?” pleaded Kuroo.

“Kuroo of course I love you-”

“Y/N do you love me in the way I want you to?”

Kuroo honestly didn’t want the answer. You honestly didn’t want to give it to him. You kinda loved him back but not really. Not in the way he wants.

“No…”

The sound of your voice saying ‘no’ became an echo in Kuroo’s brain. He wasn’t sure what was worse: you loving him and staying in your relationship or you not loving him at all.

“Okay.”

Kuroo crossed his arms and laid back down on the grass. He sniffled, holding back any tears. You put your hand on his arm.

“Kuroo I’m sorry-”

“It's fine Y/N. I should’ve known better.”

Kuroo Tetsurou didn’t stop loving you that day. He simply couldn’t. He would love you for a lifetime, even if you didn’t love him. Maybe one day you would change your mind, but not today.

•

[general taglist (form in masterlist) : @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @complimentaryhugsgirl @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful ]

[subarublue]

Joke’s On You

One Shot

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Timeline: Post DMC4 (could even be post DMC5 if you want…I kept those details vague. The only telling thing is the fact that Nero’s there)

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Dante x Female Reader

Word Count: 4224

Read on Ao3

Summary: “Hey! Know any good jokes, sweetheart?”

If ever there was someone who could get bored in the middle of a fight, it was most definitely Dante.

Notes: So...this is an old one. I say that even though this was just posted on Ao3 last September only because it was my first story ever. I was debating on whether or not to post it here because I don’t feel 100% happy with it, but I figure, eh what the heck. I’m never gonna revise it though, so I can look back and see how much better I’ve gotten at writing...if at all, lol.

“Hey! Know any good jokes, sweetheart?” Dante called out before he shot another large demon that thought it was a smart idea to target the weakest member of your group; you. You might have wondered if the thing regretted its decision, that is, if your blood hadn’t suddenly rushed to your face at the pet name he’d used to address you. God, you loved it when he called you that...well, at least you assumed he was talking to you. You highly doubted he’d call Nero that.

He glanced at you with a smirk. He must’ve known what calling you that did to you and you really wished you could hide your face without risking your life at that moment. You were sure he could tell that you were as red as a tomato despite how dark the street you were currently on was.

It certainly didn’t help that you’d fallen hard for the man. Adding in the fact that he was a huge flirt and had you blushing like mad at pretty much everything he said anyway made you wonder if he knew about your little crush on him. But he never said anything about it so you assumed...maybe he hadn’t actually noticed? You weren’t sure which you preferred.

He was looking at you again, expectantly this time. Oh, right. He’d asked you a question.

“A good joke!?” you sounded incredulous as you fired off round after round at more demons closing in on you. Did he really mean now?

Who were you kidding? Of course he meant now. If ever there was someone who could get bored in the middle of a fight, it was most definitely Dante. You could just hear Nero’s groan over all the commotion, clearly showing his annoyance with the older hunter.

Dante cut a large arc through the air with his sword, killing three more demons at once when they tried to jump over him. “Yeah! This is gettin’ kinda old. Think we could use some better entertainment.” You could hear the playful lilt to his voice. While he was enjoying himself, he was quickly losing interest in the fight. You knew that last part had been a gibe at the weak demons you all were fighting, so you weren’t quite sure if he was serious or not.

“Are you for real, right now? Don’t you think we ought to be concentrating on trying not to get killed, instead?” Of course by ‘we’ you really meant yourself. It wouldn’t do for you to be distracted right now after all; you weren’t nearly as experienced as the other two. You shot down another small demon that made it past Nero with your rifle. He and Dante were taking on the brunt of the work, shooting and slicing through the huge horde that was advancing on your small group, while you stayed a ways behind taking care of any demons that got lucky enough to make it by the two hunters in front of you.

“Aw! Come on now, babe! You got nothing to worry about!” Dante yelled back to you as he sliced another demon in half. “I’ll protect you. I can be your knight in red leather!” Dante threw you a grin before turning back to the fight. The demons were advancing more quickly now, their desperation to overrun the three of you growing by the minute. You shook off your embarrassment at his cheesy line and slung your rifle over your shoulder by the strap. You drew two pistols instead since it seemed that speed was becoming more necessary as the demons tried to swarm the three of you.

You heard Nero bite out, “Would you knock it off already? I doubt she’s interested in your old ass, so lay off! We got a job to do!” He skewered a demon that tried to slip by him with his sword.

You couldn’t have wanted to smack Nero in the head more than in that moment. You knew you probably weren’t Dante’s type (though you weren’t really sure what his type was exactly), but you surely didn’t need, nor want, any more help in turning away the man’s attentions. Even if the flirting didn’t mean anything to him.

“You seem to forget, kid,” Dante started, emphasizing the word “kid” to get a rise out of Nero, “that she and I have known each other for quite a while now. If she’s got a problem with me, she knows she can just say so,” he finished as he took out another demon trying to get the jump on him. The taunt worked, and you could see Nero bristle at being called a kid as he took his anger out on another particularly unlucky devil. “Besides, what do you care? You gettin’ jealous over there, or something? Thought you already had a girlfriend? Or are you as bad at relationships as you are at killing demons?”

You glanced back at Dante as he taunted Nero some more in time to see another weak enemy “sneak” by him (you were sure he allowed it so you’d have something to practice on), and it was easily gunned down by your pistols. Unfortunately, you missed whatever spluttered reply Nero had made. Probably some comment on how Dante himself had terrible luck with women.

“Shouldn’t we be focusing more on the fight?” you asked nervously. You didn’t doubt Dante could and would protect you (Nero too, of course), but there was always that ‘what if?’ “I mean, I do know some of good ones, but...” you trailed off.

He was quick to reply before you could finish. “Yeah! I’m in the mood for a good laugh. This has been pretty tedious and boring anyway,” he continued with his taunting. “And don’t worry so much! The end’s in sight.”

Sure enough, a glance down the dim street showed the end of the horde of demons. Finally, you thought.

“Is this really the time for that kind of thing?!” You heard Nero’s exclamation over the sound of Red Queen revving as he picked off a few more demons.

“Any time’s a good time! What’re you talkin’ about!?” Dante defended.

The remaining demons had now changed tactics, opting for a straight forward attack as they desperately charged up the street, taking the two, more experienced hunters head-on. That’s not a very smart plan, you thought wryly. Dante had put Ivory away at some point in favor of using Ebony in conjunction with his sword as the rest of demons drew in close. Thankfully, none of them were particularly strong and with Dante and Nero flanking you, you figured you were well protected and finally decided to humor the man.

“Okay, I do know a really good one, but it’s kind of long. Has a really good punch line, though!” you said as you thought about the best joke you knew. You’d learned it from a friend a long time ago, and it was by far one of the best you’d heard. You figured it would be the kind of joke Dante would appreciate. On second thought, you were almost too embarrassed to tell it. God he’s gonna make so much fun of me for it later. Maybe I should pick a different one, you thought, remembering the joke’s end. As the demons’ numbers dwindled, they began to get more desperate and frustrated at the fact that they hadn’t even drawn blood from any of you.

“Well, we gotta hear it now!” came Dante’s over-ecstatic reply and you knew he wasn’t going to drop it until you told the joke.

You heard Nero groan again and mutter something you couldn’t quite catch over the sound of his sword’s engine. It sounded a bit like ‘not pandering to old men’ or something like that.

“Sooo,” you started off loudly, trying to talk over the noise of the fight as you shot another demon trying to get in close, “somewhere far away in a valley, there is this forest. And in the middle of this forest, is a lake. And over this lake is a fly, buzzing around and minding its own business.”

“What the hell kind of joke is this supposed to be?” Nero rattled off as another demon fell to his blade.

“Shut up and listen and you’ll see!” You got a little aggravated with him since you’d barely started and he was already complaining. “Anyways, in the water is a fish, watching this fly buzzing over this lake, in the middle of this forest, in this valley far away. And the fish thinks to itself, You know, if that fly would just drop six inches, I could jump out of the water, catch that fly, and have myself a tasty snack!" A demon caught you off guard in that moment. You knew you wouldn’t be fast enough to defend yourself, but before you could even react you caught sight of Dante’s sword hacking it in half. He’d definitely made good on his claim of being your knight and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Sounds like a good one! Keep going, sweetheart!” Dante said as he turned away to stop another demon from trying to impale him with a claw. You were glad he was distracted so he couldn’t see you blush again.

You continued, “Now a ways away on the bank of this lake, is a bear. And this bear is watching this fish, watch this fly, buzzing over this lake, in this forest, in this valley far away. And the bear thinks to itself, You know, if that fly would just drop six inches, the fish would go for that fly, I could rush in, catch that fish and have myself a yummy dinner!” You killed a couple more demons that tried to sneak up on Nero, and he grunted out his gratitude. Unlike Dante, he was clearly not enjoying himself.

“Further on down the bank, is a hunter.” Nero groaned again and you suspected he must be setting a new record for the number of groans in one night. You heard Dante chuckle on the other side of you though, so you pressed on, “And this hunter is watching this bear, watch this fish, watch this fly, buzzing over this lake, in this forest, in this valley far away. And the hunter thinks to himself, You know, if that fly would just drop six inches, the fish would go for that fly, the bear would go for that fish, and while it’s distracted, I could shoot that bear,” you paused as you heard a gunshot from Nero’s gun go off killing another demon, “and have myself a nice trophy.”

You could see the end more clearly now. Only about twenty or so demons were left and they were getting cut down pretty quickly, so you kept going, “Now at the edge of the hunter’s camp, is a cat.”

“Let me guess...stupid cat is watching the hunter, watching the bear, blah, blah, blah!” Nero grated out, clearly annoyed as he swung his sword at another demon desperately trying to get a hit in.

“What!? NO!” you yelled at him, getting annoyed yourself at his interruptions. You supposed you couldn’t really blame him. This had been a pretty tedious job as Dante had stated earlier. Taking a moment to shoot another approaching demon, you calmed yourself and grinned at Nero since he’d only been half wrong. “He’s eyeballing the hunter’s turkey sandwich!”

“What the hell? Really!?” Nero seemed pretty exasperated at this point, but you heard Dante bark out a laugh as he killed another demon and decided you really didn’t care too much as long you could hear that laugh again.

You continued on, punch line in sight. "So this cat is also watching this hunter watch this bear, watch this fish, watch this fly, buzzing over this lake, in this forest, in this valley far away.” You could almost see the irritation rolling of Nero in waves at the fact that he was half right. “And the cat thinks to itself, You know, if that fly would just drop six inches, the fish would go for that fly, the bear would go for that fish, the hunter would go for that bear, and while he’s distracted, I could dart in and have myself a turkey sandwich!”

“Come on kid, cheer up! We’re almost done here!” you heard Dante yell over you at Nero and you couldn’t quite tell by his tone if he was trying to bait Nero or actually encourage him. Looking around though, you noticed he was right. There was only a handful of demons left to deal with.

“So anywaaay,” you stopped their conversation before Nero could reply and Dante gave you a sheepish grin in apology for the interruption, “eventually, the inevitable happens. The fly drops six inches!” you cried out as the last few remaining demons rushed the three of you. Realizing you wouldn’t be fast enough to be of much help, Dante and Nero took a defensive stance around you.

They slashed and shot at the remaining demons as you took the opportunity to bring your joke up to the punch line, “The fish leaps out of the water,” you raised your voice over the sound of the battle as Dante leapt in the air and brought his sword down, severing one of the demon’s heads from its body, “and snatches the fly right out of the air!”

Nero charged a demon closing in and dispatched it quickly. “The bear rushes into the lake and grabs the fish!” You turn to see Dante brandishing Ivory. “The hunter cocks his gun, takes aim, and fires!” The sound of real gunshots added sound effects to your story.

“The cat darts for the sandwich, trips on a can, rolls forward, and SPLOOSH! Ends up right in the lake!” you shouted as both Dante and Nero brought their swords down on the last two remaining demons.

What followed was a deafening silence in the wake of a clamorous fight. For a moment, no one spoke. First taking stock of the surrounding area, Dante listened intently for any stragglers. Finding nothing, he then nodded at you and Nero, signaling that the area was clear and the fight was over. You holstered your pistols as Dante and Nero put away their weapons as well and turned to face you. Nero was still clearly irritated, but Dante looked expectant and you wondered if you could bait one of them into asking for the punch line. You waited a beat, then spoke, “The end!” You then took a little bow to end your tale.

“WAIT! WHAT THE HELL?! THAT’S IT?!” Nero was almost yelling. Apparently, even though he’d been clearly annoyed by your joke, he seemed to have become quite invested in it. “That’s not even a joke! That’s just a weird, fucking story! Where’s the punch line?”

Hook, line, and sinker, you thought, snickering to yourself. The look on your face turned mischievous and a glance at Dante showed you a knowing grin as he awaited your punch line. “You’re absolutely right, Nero!”

“Huh?” He blinked, obviously confused for a moment as to why you’d agreed with him. You didn’t pause for long, though.

“But every story has a moral. Wanna take a guess at what the moral of this story is?” You waggled your eyebrows for added effect, which incited a chuckle out of Dante and you decided you really wanted to hear it more often.

Nero’s annoyance had returned by now and he stated through gritted teeth, “Don’t try and steal someone’s fucking turkey sandwich?”

Your smile fell immediately and you leveled him with the most deadpan look you could muster. “You must be real fun at parties, huh?” You heard Dante snort in an effort to stifle his laughter, which only seemed to irritate Nero further.

Remembering the punch line, you fought a sudden wave of shyness that crept up. You managed to succeed though, deciding to just barrel forward with it. “The moral of this story is:” you paused for dramatic effect, then shooting finger guns at the two men in front of you, delivered your punch line, “Every time a fly drops six inches, a pussy gets wet!”

There was a beat of stunned silence before Nero’s face turned beet red and Dante erupted in a raucous laughter that had him doubled over clutching his sides. Nero spluttered for a bit, unable to form a coherent stream of words together at first, due to his embarrassment.

Dante, still laughing, managed to speak in between breaths, “Holy shit, sweetheart! That’s got to be the best one I’ve heard in a while!” You couldn’t help but blush again (How many times had it been now?) at the combination of him using that pet name again and praise for your long-winded, dirty joke. As Dante’s laughter finally subsided, Nero seemed to have managed to collect himself.

“Man, you guys suck! I’m out! Next time, get Trish or Lady to go along with you ‘cause I ain’t coming!” The way he said it, you knew he wasn’t serious, but it had been a long night and he turned to stalk off angrily.

“Hey, kid! Don’t be like that. Loosen up a bit! You don’t wanna hurt her feelings, do ya?” Dante reprimanded Nero lightly. He wouldn’t take offense to anything Nero said, but he certainly didn’t want him taking his frustrations out on you.

Nero sighed and turned around. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry. Guess I’m just tired. It’s been a long night,” he finished with a nod to you. “The joke was actually a decent one, even if it was a bit long,” he paused, “and dirty.” He made an embarrassed face at that which had you giggling.

Suddenly, your mischievous grin was back and Nero wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what came out of your mouth next. “But the buildup is the most important part! You can’t have a good finish without a little foreplay!” You made finger guns at Nero again for emphasis and his blush was back tenfold as Dante started laughing again at his expense.

To his credit, Nero recovered more quickly this time, “God I’m so done with you two! I’m going home. See ya around!” he said it a bit harshly, but both you and Dante saw the hint of smile on his face as he turned away.

“Tell Kyrie ‘Hi’ for us!” Dante called out to him as he walked away. “Maybe you should tell her the joke!”

A loud and annoyed ‘BYE’ was all you got for a response as he left and you snickered a bit as Dante came up to stand beside you.

“Some people just don’t understand good humor,” he said as he turned to look at you, an expression of mirth on his face. He winked at you when you glanced up at him, and you were pretty sure your face was now permanently the same color as his jacket.

God! Could I be any more obvious? you grimaced inwardly, but outwardly, managed a shy smile for your friend. That’s right, just friends. “Well I don’t know about good humor, but at least someone enjoyed it,” you said in response. Dante nodded, but didn’t reply and, for a moment, just stood there watching you. It felt like forever as you started to fidget under his intense gaze, but in reality it was probably less than a minute.

Finally he broke the silence, “You know...it’s getting pretty late and I’m a bit tired after all that. Don’t quite feel like driving you home tonight. How about you just crash at the shop? There’ll be pizza, maybe a movie. I’ll even buy this time, sweetheart.” In the silence of the night, you just knew he could hear your heart thundering in your chest. Belatedly, you realized he’d called you sweetheart almost all night, having dropped the ‘babe’ a long time ago. His normal cocky smirk was gone, replaced by a soft smile.

You tried to school your emotions into a blank mask, but you were pretty sure you failed miserably, and you gave him a timid laugh. You tried to break through your shyness again by cracking a joke with him. “You? Buy? You sure you got enough money for that, Dante, ‘cause that almost sounds like a date, you know?” You found you couldn’t look him in the eyes at the moment.

You heard Dante chuckle beside you and tried to savor the sound for as long as you could. “Well, what would you do if it was?”

You froze at that. You were pretty sure your mouth had dropped open and was catching flies, but you couldn’t seem to get any decent words to form at first as you floundered for a response. “Wha-what do you m-mean, what if it was?!” you finally managed to squeak out.

“Thought I was pretty obvious there, but if you need me to spell it out for you, I’m asking for a date.” He winked at you again, smile still on his face. You realized then, he most definitely did know about you’re little crush on him. Now there was a burning question in your mind you just had to ask.

“How long have you known?” You almost whispered it, your voice was so quiet, but you knew he heard you clearly. He crossed his arms over his chest, and your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to them, staring blatantly at his exposed forearms.

He cleared his throat and the sound immediately brought your eyes back up to his face. “Pretty much since we met,” he answered as you gaped at him. His face wore an expression that told you he knew you’d been ogling him. “You aren’t exactly subtle about it, point in case.” The smile on his face grew into a grin, probably because you were blushing like mad again and he knew he was the reason for it.

When you finally calmed down after a moment, but face still red, you managed to reply, “Yeah, well, you don’t exactly make it easy for a girl to hide it, ya know?” You were smiling like crazy too as you peeked up at him from under your eyelashes. Another question flashed through your mind and you decided to voice it too, “Why did you wait so long to call me on it?”

He sighed, taking on a serious tone. “My day job, or well night job I guess, is pretty dangerous as you very well know.” He gestured to the carnage that was left in the wake of the battle. “Gotta make sure my girl can take care of herself in case I’m not around to do it for her.” You blinked at that. You knew he had a big target on his back, being the son of Sparda and all that, so it was very likely that anyone he’d get close to could end up a target, too.

Suddenly though, your brain caught up with exactly what he’d said, “Wait, your girl?! I...I did hear that correctly, right?” Your mind was in overdrive, but you couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off your face as it grew. “Is that why you first asked me to start practice shooting with you? So you could make sure I could handle myself, if necessary?”

“Yeah, pretty much. You’re still not quite there yet, but I just got tired of waitin’, ya know?” he said at first, but then his expression fell to panic, suddenly realizing how you could take that the wrong way, and he tried to clarify, “Not that you’re a slow learner or anything! You’re doing really great, actually! I just meant that...well, I was...I just, uh,” he gave up and sighed heavily, turning his head up to the sky with his eyes closed in frustration. He felt like he’d already fucked this up and he hadn’t even gotten to get that pizza with you yet.

You startled him a bit as you gently took hold one of his hands. He uncrossed his arms to let you as he looked down at you again. “I know what you meant,” you said softly holding his hand with both of yours. You added teasingly, “You’ve never really been the patient type.”

“Yeah, yeah. C’mere you.” He pulled you into hug and you relished the feeling of his strong arms wrapping around you.

You giggled. “Guess you’re pretty lucky that I’m interested in your ‘old ass,’ huh?” you said poking fun at him over what Nero had said earlier.

“Ha! Joke’s on you, sweetheart,” he replied, pulling away slightly with a devilish grin. “You’re the one crushin’ on my ‘old ass.’ Now, then…” He pulled you back in close, bending down so that his mouth was right next to your ear as he lowered his voice to a husky whisper, “Why don’t we head back to my place and find out how true that little punch line of yours is?”

You let out a squeak at that and he laughed for the umpteenth time that night, but you decided you had no complaints on the matter when he leaned in for a kiss.

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

SLEEPOVER☆CHAOS

In which my mastersona, Seihai-kun; joins Gudako and Mash for one heck of a fun sleepover!!!

Secrets and hidden emotions are finally exposed! ;)

(naw i just like sleepovers)

Cold, billowing gusts of snow rattled against the glistening window panes; as the mundane, clinically white halls of Chaldea sparkled like brand-new.

Yes.

For the first time in ages, Seihai had volunteered to assist with the cleaning!!

'Well, it was either to help with clean-up or join the servants for a session of group counselling with Kiara...' The mere idea of pouring their heart out to their fellow allies made a cold shiver run down Seihai's spine.

No way in hell did they want to let others know about their inner demons; especially not when he was also attending today's session. To Seihai, that was akin to a recipe for disaster.

And in addition to that, Kiara was eerily perceptive as a counsellor. It'd be IMPOSSIBLE to hide anything from her. Seihai had seen how even Gudako's cheery outer self faltered before Kiara's intelligent wiles.

'It's much more relaxing to clean the place instead.' Resting their vibrant red cornrows onto one of the latest prototype model of the Chaldea Speedmop 2000 (nightingale had an entire stock of them in order to keep chaldea as clean as possible), they sighed.

Life had been a real struggle as of late for Seihai. Lacerating wounds. Ferocious beasts. Storylines bursting at the seams with treachery and Machiavellianism. In other words, the missions were hell. It was tough- unbearable even- to carry on, to keep on pushing forward like Gudako, Mash, the Staff and Servants were; but deep down, Seihai knew that they had no choice but to follow ahead.

However, it grew. A festering, deep pool of regret; self-abasement and shame. Was it really alright for Seihai to be here? Weren't they just a nuisance? Were they even worthy? Did anybody at Chaldea even care about them, anyway? Who could they open up around?

As a horrendous deluge of negative self-talk smashed into Seihai with all the force of a tidal wave; encasing them within a moment of anxiety so painful that they felt as if they were about to drown- a miracle occurred.

'TAP TAP!!!!' Tapping them ferociously on the shoulder, Seihai leapt out of their very skin to face such an intrusive force. "H-HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK- oh, Gudako."

"What do you mean by 'oh Gudako'?!! It's none other than me, Gudako; your beloved homie and most trusted ally!! I was looking for you. Kiara was disappointed that you couldn't make it to counselling today. Told me that she's happy to meet you one-on-one, if you got some extra time." Gudako all but winked, as her golden eyes glimmered mischievously.

'You little shit,' Seihai couldn't help but laugh at that. "Alright, I'll visit her tomorrow. How was the group therapy?"

"Oh, it was awesome! We all had a good laugh, shared our stories and gave each other some support." Gudako was more or less beaming with joy. "It's so nice here, in Chaldea. Everyone's so supportive of one another. There's no shame here, Seihai. I hope you know that."

"Haha, of course I do!" An itchy, aching laugh that was even faker than the fakest of plastics erupted from Seihai's throat. Well fuck, looks like their skills at faking had subsided greatly as of late.

'Oh shit...she's onto me..' Seihai recognized that expression clearly. Gudako's eyes were wide, almost brimming with tears, as her eyebrows arched incredulously.

That only meant one thing- she was finally onto Seihai's bullshit.

"Hey, Seihai. If something's up, tell me! You always listen to me ramble on and on about all of my feelings too. Let it out!" Gudako gives Seihai a friendly shake of the shoulders. "AH!!!!"

"Oh lord, Gudako. What's happened now?" Seihai guffawed softly at Gudako's vibrant pose. "You got a new idea? C'mon let it out!"

"Oi, you're the one who needs to let things out more!!! I am doing perfectly fine, thank you. Well anyway. Seihai?"

"Come with us. Join us on our sleepover tonight. Let's chat, just like old times. You, Mash and I. How does that sound?" Gudako's expression was apprehensive, linking her palms together. "I want to help. If that's okay with you..."

'SHIT, I'M WEAK TO SLEEPOVERS!!! DAMNIT!!' There was something so precious, so special about being privy to the personal thoughts and opinions of others; that Seihai was infinitely weak towards. And a sleepover with Mash and Gudako? Lucky!

Seihai instantly looped their ebony hands with Gudako's scarred palms. "Look, I'm going. You better bring some popcorn and snacks, or I'll drain your room of food, Gudako!" Seihai's joke brought a smile to Gudako's face immediately.

"Hell yeah! I'll see you at 10. You better not flake on me!"

Gudako was most certainly one of the most beloved homies around.

SLEEPOVER TIME!!! (yeet)

Decked in the most casual pyjamas and a pale gray dressing gown, Seihai trooped into Gudako's room with all the force of a warrior. It was time to commence battle!

'ONWARDS I GO!!! YOU'VE GOT THIS ME!!!' Seihai slammed into the door as bravely as they possibly could. 'YEAH BOI! I AM NOT NERVOUS, I AM WORTHY AND AWESOME! I am valid, I've got this!' With an entire array of self-affirmations tucked under their sleeves, they boldly seized their targets.

"Yahoo, beautiful ladies. It's me." Seihai posed languidly, as an excited Mash and ridiculously energetic Gudako ran up to her. "Wow, this is my first time here...nice room you've got, Gudako."

Gudako's room was filled with an array of posters, dvds, cds and technological gear; however neon lights also paraded the walls, giving it a very 'cyber beach party' feel.

"Oh damn, the finest one of them all has arrived." Gudako smirked, swaying from side to side. "I'm glad you came."

"Me too...Senpai was yammering on and on about how she wants you to join in with us more often," Mashu beamed softly, tucking her hands politely behind her back. "Thank you for making it here. Truly. I am very grateful for this."

At this, Seihai's eyes widened with shock. They were so used to being alone; and dealing with everything on their lonesome. So to see these two seem so joyful by their mere arrival came as a deep surprise to Seihai. 'Y-yo...I can't handle this...Shit.' It was time to clam up.

Awkwardly ruffling ruby red locks of hair, Seihai turned to the side. "Don't worry about it, I think you two are great people. So...what have you both got planned for today?"

"Well, senpai and I usually tend to enjoy a good romance movie..." Mash began.

"...And imagine ourselves in their situation as well." Gudako's grin was enormous, as Mash's cheeks flushed ever so slightly. "It's so much fun when we do that. Mash and I have very interesting viewpoints on romance. Hehe." Gudako's expression was wistful and warm, her eyes filled with affection.

'Damn, they've got it bad for one another...' Seihai blankly mused. 'Are they just close friends? Are they in love? Hell if I know,' They wondered.

"B-but, as you're here, we wanted to make things much more simulating for you as well. So we decided to choose a legendary movie..."

"... that's named SHREK." Gudako's face was extremely serious. "The movie that fucking destroys all other movies, because it is just that darn good. What do you say? Want some SHREK TIME??"

"Of course, Shrek is love AND life, after all." Grabbing a huge bowl of popcorn, Seihai sits to the right of Mash and Gudako. "How may times have you watched it?"

"I've genuinely lost count..." Gudako sighed. "How about you, Mash?"

"Only twice...I don't really understand the jokes and references made..." Mash hung her head dejectedly. "Sometimes I wonder if these movies are wasted on me."

"That's not true at all, Mash. I have all the time in the world to explain them to you. You won't be left out, alright?" Ruffling Mash's hair softly, Gudako smiled blissfully.

"Senpai...Thank you. In return, I shall explain all sorts of magecraft theories to you so that you can rise above all of the clock tower mages. I'll be cheering you on!"

"Aah, Mash; what have I done to deserve someone as good as you? C'mere." They were now snuggling closely together.

"Yep, Mash! You heard Gudako. This movie isn't wasted on you at all! All knowledge has to start from somewhere. You may be lost now, but you'll eventually possess enough referential knowledge to enjoy this soon. Be nicer to yourself, okay?" Ah, there it was. Seihai couldn't help but throw out some positive vibes. Worried that they had gone too far, they cringed- only to be met with wide smiles.

"You're so right, Seihai!" Gudako was now caressing Mash's hair. "Hehe, you always give such wise advice."

"Seihai, you're so kind...Thanks." Mash grinned.

"Ah, no problemo! Just didn't want to see you hurt yourself."

As Seihai quietly watched over the two's warm cuddling session, a slight pain twanged at their heartstrings.

In Chaldea, they had no connections as close as that. There was nobody like that for them, whose arms they could be held in; who they could bond with so closely. Nobody who they could cry with in the worst of times; nobody who they could while away the darkest phases of night with...nobody at all.

It had always been them, and them alone.

No matter how many people they connected to on a surface level; how many people they met and spoke to; who they relied upon and trusted within their lifetime- Seihai had never experienced a close bond with anyone.

For the first time in a while, the arid, bitter taste of jealousy clawed across their throat.

'Ah man, they're so cute. Kinda wish I could love and be loved like that too.' Seihai silently watched the movie besides them, as blue rays of light danced upon their face. 'Damn, now I'm mixed between feeling both happy and jealous for them. GUHHHH!!!'

Sometimes... being emotionally distant from others sucked.

But they couldn't let desperation consume them. Whenever they were desperate for friendship and love, they'd let the wrong people in, and would end up even more battered and bruised than before...

'I just gotta keep on being my own pillar of emotional support, no matter how desperate I am for some hugs.' Seihai sighed.

'If this is the price I have to pay to live honorably to my true self, than so be it.'

"So...Mash, Seihai. Let's share some secrets. Have any of you got somebody who you like? Fess up to your dear Gudako!!!"

What was once an extremely loud and rancorous viewing of Shrek (Seihai laughed throughout the entire thing, as Gudako cracked an inane amount of jokes) had now become none other than a GOSSIP SESSION.

'FUCK...' Seihai's face paled at this. Of all the topics to discuss, why did it have to be this??? Whilst Seihai's face was creased up with pure pain and terror, Mash was blushing like a cute tomato.

"W-well senpai, I...You see, I..." Gudako was leaning in so closely towards Mash that she was bordering on pinning her to the wall.

"Hmm, what? What is it, Mash?" Her voice was a husky whisper. "C'mon, tell me who..."

'Bruh. GUDAKO!!! That's not helping at all.' Seihai wanted to facepalm at their antics. 'They really are this dense to each other's feelings, huh.' It was adorable, yet somewhat amusing to watch as well.

"A-AH! I GIVE, I GIVE!!" Pushing Gudako to the side, Mash panted in agony. "S-SEIHAI! WHO DO YOU LIKE??"

"OI, DON'T THROW ME UNDER THE BUS LIKE THAT! WHAT THE HELL!!!" Seihai couldn't help but yell, as a dastardly cold wind dashed through their spinal cord. "Fuck, well okay, there is somebody I like, but..."

"Spear."

'Shit...' Seihai's eyes were as large as saucers, as they spun in Gudako's direction; her smirk pernicious.

Did Gudako KNOW?!

"Looks like Seihai's in a spear of trouble." Gudako winked proudly at them. "Mash, save Seihai the embarrassment. We all know who they like already!"

"T-that's true..." Mash had finally calmed down, much to Seihai's own chagrin. "Yes, we do know."

"How? I mean, should I be worried by this??? How many of you know??" Seihai's arms pooled with cold sweat. "Damn you!"

"More or less the entirety of Chaldea?" Gudako admitted, chowing nonchalantly on a massive pocky stick. "You're not very good at hiding your emotions, you know. Seihai, we in Chaldea understand you much more than you may realize. You can open up a little more, you know?"

Overwhelmed by this, Seihai snaps for the very first time- their hazel eyes burning with repressed rage. "How can you say that, damnit?! How can you understand me, when I mainly hang out alone; when I can barely connect with anybody in Chaldea; when I don't even fucking belong in this damned place??? How can you say that, when I have a fucking useless one sided affection that I've been trying to hide, but everybody now knows of??? How can you say that Gudako??? You don't know shit about me, nor my feelings!!"

At this outburst, both Gudako and Mash's faces soured. Roughly gripping Seihai with her war-torn hands, Gudako shakes them by the shoulders, her golden eyes burning with passion.

"You don't think I see it, Seihai? How you fucking pour out all of your feelings by accident, only to withdraw back into yourself again? How you look longingly over at Mash and I, craving a bond of your own? How you reluctantly look over towards staff and servants, aching to talk to them but not knowing what to do? You don't think I see you crying, see your eyes fill with affection for a certain someone every now and then; that I don't pay attention to your feelings?!! I CARE FOR YOU, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!!! WE'RE FRIENDS, AREN'T WE?!!!"

"S-senpai, stop! Seihai, I'm so sorry, Gudako just gets a bit...well, passionate sometimes." Mash manages to successfully pull Gudako back. "Err, Seihai?"

Tears. A flowing river of tears dropped from Seihai's eyes as they sobbed quietly into their palms.

Gudako cared?

Somebody actually did acknowledge their emotions, and actually looked out for them?

'What, what...It can't be...But I thought that only I could care for myself and understand my emotions that well...How could she?' Before Seihai could even look up, Gudako had wrapped them within a fierce hug.

"Seihai. Look, I don't know what's happened in your past, or what's convinced you to be your sole caretaker and self-support system without letting anybody else in." Gudako ruffles their hair. "But I want you to know, that you're NOT alone. Yeah, maybe you've not found your close homies yet. But Mash and I are happy to hear you out, we all are!! Even the person you like sees you as a friend, hehe. You don't have to worry about hiding yourself behind a mask of peerless positivity and self confidence anymore."

"Gudako..."

"You know, you were there for me when I was crying about having to be strong. And you know, I struggled to open up as well. But yeah, Mash...well she came along, and now I feel so much better! Look, I just want you to not beat yourself up for this. It's okay."

"Gudako, you're gonna make me cry. Damn, you're really hitting me in the feels today. I got a real case of the 'crying in the club at 3am vibes' right now."

"Oi, no making shitty jokes to cope. Here, we show our vulnerability like real warriors!" Gudako declared triumphantly, as Mash laughs.

"Gudako, I swear...you really are a wonderful homie. I'm sorry that I tried to hide away from you...I am so grateful that you care enough to seek me out like this. Thank you."

"H-HOLY SHIT, WE CRACKED OPEN THE COLD ONE. MASH TAKE A PHOTO!"

"Senpai, please stop the joking."

"S-sorry..."

"I'm glad," Mash also sat by Seihai's side. "I just want all of us to be happy. And Seihai, I am sure there are many wonderful beings out there that you may eventually grow close to! You already believe in yourself, which is a great start! I know you won't have to be so lonely anymore!" Lacing her palms together, Mash spoke a prayer. "I wish that someday, you will meet people too. And that you'll stop fighting alone."

"Mash, you're gonna make me explode with tears. You're being so nice right now that I'm going to cry." Seihai blushed.

"You heard her, Mash! Why are you so damn cute, I'm falling in love!!" Gudako was clutching her heart dramatically. "Ahhh....Mash is such a beauty!!! Thank you, for blessing me with such a wonderful person!"

"S-SENPAI!!! STOP!!!" As the two began to pillow fight, laughing all the while; Seihai smiled softly at them both.

'So I'm not fighting alone after all...I'm not the only person who values myself in this world anymore...' Seihai could finally put down the weapons that they had grown so used to aggressively defending themselves with.

From now on, they'd do their best to trust in Chaldea more. And maybe attend group therapy from now on, as well.

'So this is how it feels to open up to people.'

It was an unforgettable sensation.

THE END

holy smokes this is so fucking LONG

[borkthemork]

Holy shit you unlocked my trap card!

--

Roy had kept put with the current situation. Both him and Alphonse had trekked the halls for a long time. He wondered if it was ten or fifteen minutes since he and the colonel split up, but that was his mistake for letting his unease get the better of him. Riza needed her right-hand man, not some cheap ass flunkie. 

He scrunched his nose, and flinched at the pang that ricocheted through the passageway.

"What was that?" Alphonse turned, looking wearily at the doors they'd passed.

"Whatever it was, we should hurry." Roy cocked his pistol, sharp and quick, like a click of a tongue. "I don't want to get caught with those freaks on our tail."

"Neither do I."

More doors and more empty creepy rooms. Everything seemed to be made of concrete, of some solid substance, and Roy noted of the scuff marks, of the alchemy that formed each piece of infrastructure. Whatever happened here, there must've been an extensive amount of alchemists to create a place such as this. It seemed too deliberate, too massive of a project. Shit, how far were they under the city? How far did this entire thing go?

He started to count his footsteps. Too late now, but might as well make himself useful.

In a moment, a brightness permeated the end of the corridor. Roy blinked, squinting more.

"It's a door, lieutenant!"

"Sure, is." He licked his lips, keeping his gun close. If anything happened, he had more heat packing in his holsters. He should be able to hold out if anything didn't go to plan. "Let me lead the way, Alphonse."

Alphonse relented, almost hesitant. "Okay."

The light made his head throb. The walls were bleach white, grand, almost touching the sky from how it stretched itself to heaven and hell. In front of them, etched in alchemic symbols and letters, was a gate. Whatever was behind it, Roy didn't want to find out. And at the base, where the air smelt rancid, laid Barry's body in a smear of its own blood, Barry looking down at it, stiff and unmoving.

Barry turned to them. "Took you guys long enough. I thought I was gonna leave here all by my lonesome self."

Walking forward, Roy scrunched his nose, biting his tongue before the urge to throw up took hold. "Dammit, that was one of our leads too."

Barry tapped the blunt edge against the body's calf, pushing and pulling at it out of what seemed to be boredom. "Sucks for you but have some sympathy for me. My body's rotting to hell." His armor seemed to rattle at that. "Those bastards put someone else's soul in my body. Guess it didn't take well to its new occupant."

Knowing the circumstances with the brothers and the semantics of soul-binding, it wasn't surprising to hear it again. And yet, Roy found himself curious, almost horrifyingly so. "You're meaning to tell us that a soul could be rejected at any time?"

"Heh, that's right," Barry said. "The body and soul were in conflict with each other. No wonder it's in poor condition."

Roy frowned, taking another sour look at the decaying body, at how it looked uncanny to the many bodies he had killed — with the same skin, the same smell, the same lack of life. There was a time limit to Alphonse. Of course there was. Nothing could ever be easy for them, and it was the most bullshit thing he knew to be true.

"Well, looks like we have a party in here, hm?"

Roy turned and caught the eye of a woman, dressed in black, hair almost wrapping her in night. And her eyes, he couldn’t stop looking at them, for they were the color of red — cold and crisp as the blood on the floor.

Barry cackled. “Nice to see you caught up, Lusty. We were just about to leave.”

“Number sixty-six!” Her voice too. Cold and unyielding. “I see...so they used you as bait, and I fell for it.”

Roy kept his eye on her, gun pointed dead-center where her heart was. “Barry, care to explain who this woman is?”

“That doesn’t concern you.” The woman kept walking forward, enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “I’m here to take care of some business, and I’m not a fan of men who snoop into such things.”

A small gasp behind him. “Lieutenant, she has—!”

“I see it.” Roy narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need much to believe you’re one of them.” He kept note of her eyes, at how they didn’t flinch nor close. As if she was in a joke of her own, one where only she was a part of. “A homunculi, right?”

She didn’t even looking at him. “Number sixty-six, why did you help the colonel?”

Barry cackled, giving a shrug. “What can I say? I gotta be me! You’d think I want to kiss up to you guys and hide for the rest of eternity when I could be chopping up to my heart’s content? I can’t even stalk around Central unless you bozos plan to drop me in guard duty again.” His knife glinted, thrusted out in pride. “The only way I can be free is if you’re all dead. But above all—” He hurtled toward her. “—I want to chop you to pieces!”

In an instant, pieces of scrap littered the floor in deafened thuds. The silence took hold, gripped them like a vice. Roy gritted his teeth, going cold at the sight. She destroyed him, with no hesitation. "You monster."

"You had to stick your nose into things out of your control," she tutted. Her fingers were sharp as daggers, receding back from the punctured metal. "I've no choice but to keep the silence. Killing two human sacrifices is quite a pain."

"Human sacrifices?" Al gasped.

Sacrifices? Killing? Roy stared at her, narrowing his eyes as he waited, listening, blood starting to pound in his ears. Was it? It could. "So, entertain us for a second. One of your candidates wouldn't happen to go by the name of Maes Hughes, would it?"

Her glossed lips quirked up. "No. I've met him before however. An intelligent man, strong-willed too. It's too bad that his curiosity killed him in the e—"

Roy shot her in the chest. The sound ringed in his ears, left his blood pumping when her form jolted, slick with red, but was left standing regardless.

"No need to be so merciless." Her smile was cruel. She hid so much information that could be vital to their cause, and she was just smiling at him. "I told you what you wanted."

"That doesn't explain who are the sacrifices," he calmly stated. He directed the gun again, now at her legs. "Speak up."

"My you're persistent." She looked over at Alphonse. "One of them is standing right beside you."

Alphonse stood his ground. "Me?"

"You and another. Now, who shall I kill first?" She looked at them, fingers seeming to grow more and more, readied by her command. "The sacrifice? Or do I have to send the lieutenant back to his colonel?"

Another shot rang out. The woman got onto her knees, shuddering forth in shock. And Roy didn't hesitate to shoot her again.

And again. 

And again. 

He showered her with bullet holes, with red sparks and metal, and as his fingers burned, his ears screamed, and the heat in his head scorched, everything in his mind yelled at him to kill.

[wizardouxie]

Evil Douxie AU Ash Dispersal Pattern is something I Have Not been able to stop thinking about. Just, whoever the leader is, seeing this moping emo kid working in a cafe and being like “ah. New recruit.” Douxie gets dragged along to a meeting somehow (cough Archie gently bullies him into going cough) and he picks up the guitar. For the first little while he’s grouchy and adamantly refuses to be pleasant or even civil. After he meets the old lady, his jabs start to get more friendly and 1/2

teasing and the band notices and responds in turn, until you eventually get an exchange like this: “aw, you know you love us” “...” “YOU DIDNT DENY IT” “waIT NO SHUT UP” “YOU LOVE US” etc etc and just,,, this group of college kids forcibly adopting Douxie makes me soft. How accurate would you say this is to your AU?? -M.H. Anon 2/2

VERY ACCURATE.

[ DISCLAIMER: This is... very very long. That’s all. ]

Ash Dispersal Pattern took a hard hit this year, losing their guitarist in a nasty fight after a gig. Because of that, they were forced to opt out from the Battle of the Bands. Of course then the end of the world happened three times, which also sucked.

But you know, life is too short so might as well say ‘screw it’ and find a new member right? The member that left can eat dirt for all they cared now. And so they put up flyers calling for auditions as a guitarist.

...no one shows up.

Okay so they gotta figure out a new plan. And what better place to do so than in a cafe? So here they are trying to figure out how to get a guitarist. Douxie shows up with their drinks and one of them goes “ayo what’s up!” only to receive a “tch” in response. They’re confused.

“Yo what’s his problem?”

“He’s probably having a rough day, maybe family issues?”

“I dunno man, but his hair looks sick as hell,”

And then it clicks to them. Maybe... him?

And now Douxie is surrounded by strangers that vaguely look around his age, well roughly give or take a few centuries, and he’s biting his tongue.

“I said no.” he replies firmly, backing away. He slings his jacket over his shoulder and eyes a stray black cat curled up nearby before heading on his way. Weirdos. A discussion immediately blows up among the members.

“Are you sure you wanna go with this guy? We’ve had our share of jerk guitarists,”

“Okay but can we talk about his hair? It’s so cool, I bet he has tattoos too,”

“Enough about the hair! Look this kid’s tryna play tough guy with us, but I think we can soften him up, it’ll just take some time.”

“Aight you’re the boss here, but if he screws us over, you’re taking responsibility,”

Archie overhears the conversation and smiles. These children seemed kind, and Douxie could use some normal friends. Nothing against the Arcadia gang, but they have more than enough on their plate and he can’t exactly force them to integrate the ex sorcerer into their friend group.

Douxie hates the idea. It’s stupid.

“You’ve already signed me up for two jobs and school. I don’t even need school! I have centuries worth of knowledge these mortals can’t even dream of knowing,”

“Yes, but we are trying to blend in, Douxie. And besides, I remember you used to play the lute. The guitar is quite similar I believe,”

“Arch I haven’t touched that instrument for god knows how long,”

“Have you forgotten how to play it then?”

Douxie goes quiet. Archie smiles. Well that makes his job much, much easier. He readjusts his glasses.

“I overheard their next meeting is this Thursday, and you’re going. Isn’t that convenient? You don’t work any shifts on that day. It’ll be good for you,”

“That’s what you say about everything!”

“Have I ever been wrong?”

Silence again. So Archie may have developed a talent for shutting up his familiar. He doesn’t really know if that’s a good thing, but it’s definitely frequent.

Thursday rolls in and Douxie shows up to rehearsal grudgingly. The members are surprised. He tells them not to get cozy; just wanted to try something new out. Luckily for him, the members had a backup guitar. The strings feel strange against his calloused hands but also familiar in a way. He strums a chord and a chorus of “ooooo”s fill the room.

“What? I’m competent,” he snaps. The leader raises her hand.

“Didn’t imply you weren’t.”

And so the first few weeks pass by without much conversation. Rehearsals weren’t so bad on the musical aspect; Douxie could play the guitar pretty effortlessly, much to their astonishment. They regularly complimented him even when he did things his own way rather than follow the sheet music. They rarely ever got a response though. Maybe a “hm” if they’re lucky.

Stage presence on the other hand... he was too stiff and lacked energy. Not to mention he constantly looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. This was where the others started to get slightly ticked off.

“He’s sucking the life out of us dude, like we’re Ash Dispersal Pattern and he’s the freaking vacuum!” the drummer complained

“He doesn’t even sing with us! It’s supposed to be a group effort,” the bass player added.

“Yeah... honestly playing without a guitarist seems better than this,” the vocalist muttered quietly. Everyone looked at them and then the leader.

The leader pinches her nose. So that’s what they all thought huh? And as much as majority would usually win, this wasn’t what she wanted, to lose someone at such an early stage. What they’ve got going is not bad; it just could be better.

“Look, I get it, we’ve had a hard year and him being difficult doesn’t help us. But don’t you think he’s having it hard too? And we’ve all been there before. We’ve had our fights with parents, schools, society and he’s clearly going through it. Right now our best course of action is to just let it pass and let him approach us instead of coming on too strong.”

“Ah so that’s why we chose you as the leader,” the bass player jokes. The leader rolls her eyes.

“Can it, buttsnack.”

Miracles start occurring after the introduction of the little old lady. Douxie no longer keeps on a straight face. Rather, his eyes wonder curiously, mouth forming expressions that he’s not even conscious of. One day the drummer catches him... pouting. Now that’s an expression he didn’t think he’d get to see. 

“You okay there, Hisirdoux? Something get you down?”

“The stairs,” he jokes halfheartedly. 

He gets startled when he hears the drumsticks rattle against the floor. The drummer is running upstairs, yelling. And then he comes back dragging the leader who’s looking at him with concern.

“Yo Hisirdoux my dude, tell her what you told me!” 

“He asked me if something got me down. I said the stairs. Thought it was funny,” the guitarist shrugs. The leader snorts.

“That’s the best you can do?” she comments smiling. Douxie returns the smile much to her surprise.

“Of course not, but do you deserve my best?” The drummer’s jaw drops. Oh snap. The leader on the other hand is very pleased. This is what she’s looking for.

Suddenly Douxie’s phone rings. He picks up while the others listen curiously. His face breaks out into a huge grin. It’s the little old lady.

“Hello love, I’ll pick you up in ten minutes, sound good? Just finishing up rehearsal,” he says softly.

The drummer wiggled his eyebrows at the leader.

“Ooooo we got a lovebird in the band!”

Douxie chokes. 

“Are you okay Douxie?”

“Yeah, yeah, something came up but I’ll be there okay!” He ends the call promptly and shakes his head furiously.

“Aww Douxie’s such a cute name, why can’t we call you that?”

“FIRST OF ALL SHE IS NOT, ahem, she is not my girlfriend. That would be awkward because she is um, sixty to seventy years old,” 

He doesn’t tell them that technically he is 919. The leader meanwhile, looks pointedly at the drummer who is slowly shrinking in his spot. Whoops. Bad call. Douxie looks at the clock. 5:20 pm. He starts packing up, slinging the guitar backpack over his shoulder.

But before he leaves, he surprises them one more time.

“You guys can call me Douxie or Doux too, by the way. The name is growing on me.”

Rehearsals are so much better after that. Douxie’s smiling and talking to them, performing much more animatedly and giving it his all. He still kinda jabs at them, but there’s no tension behind it.

Nowadays he practices at home instead of waiting for rehearsal. It’s a little hard to fit time what with schoolwork and shifts, but he makes it happen. Archie stares at him fondly. This was the life that Douxie needed. One with a balance between honest work and fun.

One day, Douxie brings in some takeout from the bistro. A little celebratory gift because Ash Dispersal Pattern finally got a successful gig after so long. They open up all the boxes, set out plates, napkins flying all over the place. It’s loud, chaotic, a little dirty, but it doesn’t matter to Douxie because he’s with his friends.

Wait.

“Dang Doux, you didn’t have to do all this but you did anyways. I bet you love us. don’t you?” the vocalist teased.

Douxie remains quiet. Friends. As in, people he really cares about and looks forward to spending time with. People who he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with. People who he --

“--LOVES US SHUT UP OH MY GOD!” the drummer yells, taking him back to reality. He looks at them with a smile and a shrug and suddenly he’s being attacked with hugs. They’re all screaming about how he’s always been soft and loved them from the start.

And then he’s crying. Everyone starts to panic and they’re scrambling off of him, asking him if he’s okay, if what they did was too much or anything like that. He shakes his head, trying to wipe his tears. It’s just... he’s never been held like this by so many people and for so long. He was so touch starved that he didn’t know what to do with this much love and appreciation. Quite frankly it’s been so long since it felt like he was truly wanted. 

He tells them it’s okay, really, he was just a little overwhelmed. But now the craving for their touch is so much stronger.

“Can you hold me again like that? Just for a bit? It was nice,” he asks timidly and they nod eagerly. Within ten minutes, they fall asleep in each other’s arms. Archie quietly pulls a blanket over them and sleeps on Douxie’s lap.

His work here is done.

[killervibe]

I’m 17 (I Don’t Know Anything) 

hournite fic!

~.~ 

Rick was leaning against Beth’s locker when she came out of her class at the bell.

“How was it?”

Beth zipped her bag, tossing in her pencil case. The day was over and she was eager to get to the garage for some JSA training. They had to put things on hold, there were a lot of assignments and a lot of studying this year, and Pat wanted them to do well in school. It’s been too long since they’ve suited up to have a fun time challenging each other rather than because there was an emergency mission. “The test? Yeah, it went well. Chuck quizzed me all night.”

“I know,” he murmured, crowding her against the metal rows to steal a kiss. Oh. Beth wore a pleased smile for the few moments she had before her mouth was too busy kissing her boyfriend. She loved it when Rick got needy with the PDA—Not that they did it often— Rick used to be so distanced with his emotions before they really became friends. Maybe it was Beth’s old loser table insecurities creeping in, but it still marvelled her that someone could want her so bad. Beth grabbed onto his shirt collar eagerly for another kiss. “You postponed our date.”

She raised an eyebrow and poked at one of his ribs. “You’re not jealous of my time with Chuck, are you?”

Rick scoffed. “No!”

Beth continued her poking. “Because I can divide my time equally.”

“I believe you,” he said in a teasing way that implied he really didn’t, but there wasn’t much he could do. He knew once he started dating her that Beth and Chuck came as a package deal.

She packed everything she needed then looked at him. Her locker was in terrible condition and she often felt like Artemis bodyslamming against it in order to get the door to stick. Rick closed her jammed locker with a push and his knee.

“I can,” she insisted. “Thank you.”  Beth stretched up on her tippy-toes, pulling his head down until she could kiss him at her level. He softened like putty under her spell.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she promised. She played with the front of his hair, pulling a few strands out to fall over his eyes. “And certainly want to make up for it.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. C’mere.”

She went for another kiss, but it ended shortly because Yolanda threw herself against Beth’s locker just as Beth got a noise out of him. Yolanda put an arm over her eyes and let out a very overdramatic groan. “Oh to be young and in love and in high school!” she mocked, talking as if she were the lead in a Shakespearean play. “What misery, the date of Olive Garden vanquished by the practice examinations for SATs.”

Courtney appeared out of nowhere too, propping her elbow against Rick’s arm.

“Justin is rubbing off on you, Yolanda.”

Yolanda smirked. “What was it that he called you guys last week, again? The Earl and Duchess of Righteous Unity? That’s Camelot talk for soulmates.”

Rick shared an awkward look with Beth.

“Nooooo, you’re embarrassing them!” Courtney smacked her, but she was also giggling into her palm. Yolanda shoved Courtney’s hand aside.

“That’s the point, yeah.”

She didn’t know if he was feeling what she was, but something went wrong in her heart the moment he pulled away from her and she slipped her hands back into the sleeves of her yellow sweater. Beth felt a freezing sensation in her veins. Like Icicle got to her bloodstream or something. Her eyes widened, desperate to search something in his gaze and panicked when he went blank instead. That freezing heart of hers sank. Rick. Beth mentally willed him to react. Laugh it off. Smile. Make a joke, anything.

But he didn’t. He stood there like a block of handsome tall teenager confused for a wall.

Beth didn’t know what to do.

Courtney and Yolanda’s laughter died off when neither Rick or Beth said anything in reply. Courtney nudged Rick. “She’s just teasing you guys.”

More silence and it was getting weird. Beth tried to speak, but her voice felt incredibly small for the first time ever, like if she tried to use it the only thing she might do is cry. 

Yolanda frowned.

“Guys?”

“I gotta go,” Rick said with a start. “See you, uh—later.” Every word was stiff, almost as if he had to force them out of his mouth then regretted them once they were out there, hanging between them.  

He bent down on autopilot to kiss Beth’s cheek, but jerked away at the last second and fumbled again. “Right. Bye.”

Beth folded her arms to herself, staring at her shoes with a worried lip as Rick disappeared into the sea of students.

“Beth—?” Yolanda said to fill up the silence.  “Did I do something wrong?”

“I—” She picked up her bag and put it on, following the crowd that Rick slipped into. Courtney and Yolanda hurried up, taking each spot beside her as they walked out of school. “It’s not your fault.”

“What do you mean it’s not her fault?” Courtney said, narrowly dodging getting elbowed in the eye by Isaac’s tuba. The marching band was single filing onto the bus for a state championship this weekend.

“You said we were young and in love,” Beth explained, already feeling fragile to say it out loud. “Rick and I.”

Courtney glanced at Yolanda who shrugged. “But…. you are.”

Are we? A voice in her head shrilled at her between her ears. The thought bounced around her brain like a basketball. Beth was going to go crazy at the stream of thoughts that would follow if she let herself fall down that rabbit hole. She just wanted to run home and cry to Chuck or call Rick to ask him or—No. Not to do that. First plan. Cry with Chuck.

Beth started to walk on without the girls, a hand fiddling with her rainbow pendant. “I guess,” she said.

“What do you mean, you guess?”

Beth turned on her heel in front of the Blue Valley Tires mural. “I think we’re in love. I  hope we are. It’s what I want, of course. I just...don’t know yet. We never talked about it.”

Courtney looked like she was about to have an aneurysm. “You two never talked about your feelings????”

“It sounds bad when you say it like that!”

Yolanda picked her own jaw up from the floor. “Because it is! You’re kidding, right? Rick loves you. And you love Rick!”

Beth looked increasingly troubled.

Courtney grabbed Beth’s arm. “You do love him, right?”

Beth shook off Courtney’s hand. “Of course I do,” she replied softly. The three girls took up the entire width of the sidewalk as they walked to the Garage. “I just never told him. I wasn’t sure how he’d react.”

“But—”

“And he never told me! He practically ran away, Court! I don’t think I’m overthinking this.”

“What?”

“What??”

Beth froze in front of the Pit Stop when she realized that’s exactly where Rick was waiting for them. “I can’t go in there.”

“Oh my god!” Yolanda pulled at her braids in exasperation. “Beth, this is crazy! If you love Rick then you have to tell him! He probably thought it was awkward for the same reason you did because you didn’t say anything either!”

“Yeah,” said Court. “This is our first training session in weeks. We can’t afford to have in-fighting. Pat will get so frustrated!”

Beth peeked in through the door. Rick wasn’t talking to Pat in the entrance or by the cars, which meant he was probably up at the loft. Their spot. Her heart flipped the way it always did when she thought of their first kiss there.

Yolanda looped her arm around Courtney’s, pulling her inside. “We’re gonna get changed and get snacks,” she told Beth. “You two better get your acts together before we come back.”

~.~

Beth found Rick on the couch in the loft. His arm was slung over his forehead as he stared up at the ceiling.

“Beth,” he said the moment the stairs stopped creaking when she got to the top. She stared at him laying down like that. If this were yesterday she would’ve settled herself in by letting his head fall into her lap. She’d have lowered his hood and stroked his hair as he rested there in his suit like a superhero on call, waiting for the alarm to sound. She’d have filled the quiet with chatter that he’d listen to, drifting off to sleep. She’d have played with his keys, rattling the chain so that they’d chime in a way only Rick Tyler would call a lullaby.

Beth didn’t know why she was acting like she’d have only done that yesterday. She’d have done it an hour ago. She wanted to do it right now. Beth loved him.

“Yeah?” Her voice came out higher pitched than she wanted it to.

“What the hell just happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“It was like, one minute everything was fine and the next I wasn’t even sure if—”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Rick.” She took a deep breath. “I do.”

Rick sat up. His boots squelched against the floor. “You what?”

Beth took a step forward, glad that she got rid of her bag downstairs. Rick stood up too. Beth found herself straining her fingers up to get Rick to duck his head. She removed the hood and cupped his face. “I think you know.”

Rick’s eyes were on hers like she held his world in place. And everything suddenly became so silly. How could either of them doubt this for what it was?

“We’ve been dating for nearly a year.” Rick’s soft smile was still a treasure Beth found she’d covet for.

“Has it really been that long?”

“You know it has.”

Beth grinned because she had never lost track of any time before. Not hers. Not his.

“And I’ve been in love with you for all of it.”

There was no stretch of silence this time. No unsure glance or worried paranoia, spreading from one to the other. This wasn’t mislabeled.

“Oh,” said the airy breath that got knocked out from her lungs. Her fingers wandered over Rick’s face, marvelling the way his eyelids fell when her fingers lightly traced over them.  “Yes. Okay.”

He laughed. 

“Okay?” he repeated.

This was the big moment. The thing they should’ve talked about ages ago. It could’ve been downright crazy to Courtney and Yolanda for them to not understand. Beth was a talker. Rick barely bottled his emotions. They were obviously in love. But they didn’t see these moments between them. When Rick bent down so Beth could kiss him. When Beth learned to drive with his Mustang. The hours at night she’d spend with Chuck, daydreaming about the way his hand only reached for hers to hold in the sewers when she was supposed to be studying. There were things Beth knew. Deep down, without asking. She didn’t need to push. Rick never needed anyone to push him. He did all the fighting himself.

But for Beth to use every word but those three? She didn't even need to.

“Yolanda was right about us.”

[ginny-rose-sixx]

What the Fork? Ch 2

A/N: Well it’s ADHD awareness month and to be honest I have been having a real beast of a time these past 1.5 months. I still have not been able to be in the perfect mind space for writing lately. For example, I will sit down to write and half-way through a sentence I will start to hyper-fixate on trying to remember what Roman Numeral I had to write to when I was in 1st grade. Was it 1 thousand? 2 thousand? 10 thousand? 1 million?? Then by the time I get back to the sentence I was writing, I am so lost. Sometimes it frightens and discourages me so much that I immediately shut the document down. I will also just break down and cry or I will hyper-fixate on some inane object. I have had hours pass that seem to be minutes and vice versa.

Thankfully, I have been able to write more. Chapter 12 is out on WattPad and AO3. Also, I am now finally putting chapter 2 here on Tumblr. Read, reblog, tell me what you think… pretty please? 🥺

Pairing: Not disclosed to reader yet

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 1542

Chapter summary: It’s Roz’s first morning in 1981.

Roz woke slowly. *Gaahh, that is such a gross smell. And why on Earth is there someone in my bed?* Roz cracked an eye open and peeked around the room. *WHAAAT THE FUUUCK???* She started to silently freak the fuck out. *Not good. Not good. Not good at all. Wait, seriously who the fuck is in bed with me??* Roz was done being silent. Now was the time for ear splitting screams. Roz also lashed out at the stranger elbowing him in the stomach and kicking him a few times in the shins. For good measure, she also kicked him twice in the balls.

Tommy sleepily stumbled out of his bed. “Roz?! Roz are you ok?!” Tommy saw Vince on the floor groaning and clutching his crotch. “Vinnie, dude, did you seriously get into bed with Roz after getting home? Are you ok Roz? Did he hurt you or anything?”

“Seriously T-bone? I’m over here in major pain and you think I did something to her?” Vince groaned.

As she listened to Tommy and Vince, Roz became more alert and remembered where she was. “Mornin’ Tommy. Hey Vince, if I catch you cuddling me in my sleep again without my permission, I WILL hurt you. I will shove my wand up your nose and scramble your brain.”

Nikki stood in the doorway laughing, “Well Vince, I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you kicked out of bed by a chick. I thought you’d have freaked out a little less Roz, you know, being the time traveling witch that you are.”

Roz stood up and glared at him, “Shut up Nikki! You had me go into his bed and didn’t warn him I was there to… what? Mess with me?! Were you hoping that he’d do something to me in my sleep?”

Nikki rolled his eyes, “I knew he wouldn’t, and it was a fucking joke.”

“Not a very good one if you ask me,” said Roz crossing her arms. “Ugh whatever.”

Vince looked between Roz and Nikki. “Is anyone gonna fill me in on the babe from the future?”

“Watch it buddy. I’ve got my eye on you,” Roz stuck her tongue out at Vince. “Anyways, shouldn’t we wait for Mick in case he thought of anything else he wants to know? The less I gotta repeat myself the better.”

Tommy looked at the alarm clock, “Well it’s almost 11:30 so he should be here soon for practice. What do you want to do until then?”

*I wonder why I’m even here. What do I want to do anyways? I can’t always just sit here on my ass with the guys. It’s too bad that to get a job or anything I would need a fake ID or something. I know, I could be their babysitter and maid.* Roz snickered to herself at the thought.

“Earth to Roz….1981 to Roz, are you there?” Tommy said poking her on her right shoulder right where she had a giant bruise.

Roz tried to keep from wincing. “Um sorry I guess I spaced out there. I guess we should come up with some sleeping arrangements because I don’t want to wake up to unexpected people in the same bed as me. No offence Vince. Also, I’m sorry for literally kicking your ass outta bed. So, who wants to share a bed with a witch?”

The guys looked between each other. Just as Vince was about to try saying something, Nikki elbowed him and said “Unless we can get another mattress, you should get your own bed. These two goons can either share or fight each other for who gets the couch. Although, you could always share with one of them.”

“Nik seriously? I’ll just try to be at my girlfriend’s more often. I don’t want to risk my brain getting scrambled.” Vince shrugged and walked out to the living room.

Roz was starting to feel the need for some time to herself. “Hey Tommy, do you have another shirt that I can wear? I don’t feel like being in these shorts all day.”

“Sure thing Roz,” Tommy said tossing her a shirt as he walked out of the room.

Nikki just stood there with his arms crossed analyzing Roz. Starting to feel a little hot under the collar, she cleared has throat and said, “Um Nikki, I don’t exactly want an audience while I change.”

With a wink and a smirk Nikki left the room. Roz shut the door behind him. Roz started to think as she got her skirt and started to change. *Ok, seriously, Nikki was being a little weird just now. He didn’t act this nice last night at all. Maybe he’s just trying to get me rattled.* When she took the shirt off she saw that her whole right shoulder was bruised. *Geez did I fall or something when I blacked out?* Roz did her hair in a messy bun and tied the oversized t-shirt at the waist. Knowing how gross the carpet is, she decided to put her boots on. Once she was satisfied with her clothes, she walked out to the living room to find that Mick had already arrived.

“Hey cuz,” she said as she skipped in and plopped onto the couch between Mick and Tommy.

“So teen witch, I hear you kicked Vince out of bed. Good job kid.” Mick said with a small smile.

Roz laughed, “If he tries anything while I’m asleep I’ll treat him like he’s an Egyptian being prepared for burial”

Vince looked at her like she had 2 heads, “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that I would shove a white-hot poker up your nose and scramble your brain before I pull it out through your nose.” Roz was having a hard time not laughing at the look on Vince’s face. Taking pity on him, she conceded, “Weeeeellllll I would actually be more likely to punch or kick someone I’m not expecting to be in my bed.”

“So, Roz, what did happen before you appeared under the table?” Tommy asked turning on the couch to look at her.

“Well I was supposed to go to a Harry Potter convention where a bunch of fans get together. That’s why I was dressed the way that I was. My friend Katy was supposed to pick me up but she didn’t show up so I started to watch a movie. I was fiddling around with my time turner necklace and then a blue light started creeping up my arms. I couldn’t drop the necklace, or even move at all. Around the time that it was reaching my head I blacked out. I must have fallen because I have a giant bruise on my right shoulder. Next thing I know I’m under your table.”

“What movie were you watching?” Nikki asked suspiciously.

Roz crinkled her nose and questioned, “Why do you care what movie I was watching?”

Nikki scoffed, “Of course I want to know because it might explain why you ended up here of all places.”

Roz thought *I can’t tell them too much about it. I can’t cause some sort of time paradox or change the future. He probably won’t believe whatever I say anyways* She took a steadying breath and said, “It was a movie with a killer rabbit, French people flinging insults and throwing cows, horny nuns in a convent, and empty halves of coconuts. I was also trying to do some research into the classic physics problem of ‘What is the air speed velocity of an un-laden swallow?’”

Nikki snorted, “Well that’s bull shit. You were probably watching something lame and embarrassing, or something really important. Either way, you don’t want to tell us the truth.”

Roz snorted and shook her head at his response, “Of course you just keep on thinking that Nikki. Monty Python and the Holy Grail is just pure awesome, not crazy. Oh and, Vince, my full name is Eva Rozlyn Roberts. I prefer Roz. Also, Nikki decided that I am Mick’s cousin from Wisconsin. Any questions anyone?”

“Well Roz, that’s all well and good, but we might need more of a back story than that. We gotta have a plausible reason why Mick’s adult cousin moved from Wisconsin. Also, we probably should have a good reason why you stay here and not with him.” Vince said.

Roz thought for a moment then said, “Well as to the moving states, I guess we could say I’m recently parentless and that Mick’s the only family member I have. As to why I’m here and not with him would be his girlfriend doesn’t like me.”

“What will you do during the day?” asked Tommy.

“I guess I’ll help you guys with stuff around here. I would cook and clean, ugh I wish I was actually a witch; magic would come in handy when cleaning this place up.” Roz looked around. She saw copious amounts of trash, broken shit, and burnt cockroaches everywhere.

Nikki watched Roz as she looked around. He thought that she might be a little too tame at the moment. With a wicked glint in his eye he asked her, “What about when we party? Are you gonna be joining in?”

[pinnithin-writes]

Good Jokes

Chapter 21

The portal stole their breath from them, chewing them up and spitting them out in a dark, red cavern. Tommy was up to his shins in some kind of tarlike fluid, but he was less put off by the wetness in his socks than he was by how warm it was. Pocked stalagmites reached up from the floor like long, spindly fingers and the air was thick with a humidity that made it hard to breathe. Firelight flickered overhead. It was unexpectedly quiet, save for the lapping of water around their legs as the team assembled raggedly and gained their bearings.

“Oh my gosh, this place is huge,” Gordon breathed.

The unnerving qualities of this womblike place were second to the great, crouching thing that watched them from the center of the chamber. Benrey’s arms were tucked in at odd angles, and his form rose up from the murk like a tumor. From where his wide, pallid face was resting, Tommy could see that dark fluid sloshing into the corner of his mouth.

Gordon sounded as unsettled as Tommy felt when he asked, quietly, “Is he dead?”

Sure, dead like a possum. Benrey’s eyes may have been unfocused and glassy, but Tommy wouldn’t believe for a second the creature was deceased until he personally watched his final breath leave him.

As if sensing Tommy’s thoughts, the entity’s gaze lasered in on Gordon when he took a tentative step in his direction. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Gordon responded automatically, halting in his tracks.

“I knew this was gonna happen.”

Benrey’s voice echoed off the sides of the cavern and rippled the water around their calves. Firelight flickered hot and yellow off his tractor tire irises, and Tommy had to look away.

Gordon had a bit more resolve in him, keeping nervous watch on the entity. “What?” he asked. “What do you mean you knew this was gonna happen?”

“I’m telling you - look, I’m... I like everything, I'm a great cool...” Benrey trailed off.

Tommy watched a confused glance pass between Gordon and Coomer while the entity went on.

“I feel a good, but you make me angry. Rememb-”

“Why,” Gordon interrupted, frustration edging his voice. “Because I don’t have my fucking passport? Is that what this-”

Benrey cut him off abruptly with a flash of his serrated teeth. “No. You remember? The first time we met... you wa- you walk in- I’m on my shift, and you come in, and you got a dick slip in your... in your HEV suit.”

There was a fraction of pause, an iota of processing during which the gears spun in everyone’s heads, until Tommy saw Bubby mouth the words, dick slip? and suddenly he was forced to hold in a riot of shocked laughter.

Gordon threw a glance over his shoulder at the others, astonished light dancing in his eyes. When he turned back and demanded, “What?” Tommy heard humor in his voice.

“And I tried - I tried to stop you. I tried to tell you. I was stopping you - I was going, ‘hey, yo dick out,’ but you didn’t-” he broke off, giant forehead wrinkling in consternation. “I was tryna be nice, and then you were talkin’ to my friend, J- Jefferem, and you’re telling him like, ‘Aw, I don’t have my passport…’”

As Benrey spilled more nonsense out of his mouth, Gordon turned, one hand propped on his waist, to give a “you’re hearing this, right?” look to his teammates. Dr. Coomer exhaled loudly out of his nose, shaking his head as he took this time to reload his weapon. Gordon looked to Tommy, the corners of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly and brows raised like a child asking for a dare.

The entity continued to rumble the cavern as he spoke. “And... he was so upset - he has anger issues - I was gonna protect you from him, we were - I was gonna be nice to you. Remember that?”

“Yeah,” Gordon answered, “and then you contradicted yourself almost immediately. I didn’t say shit to you, you immediately started attacking me, and you just harassed me-”

“No, that’s just my job!” Benrey huffed, eyes rolling in Gordon’s direction.

“To do what?” he demanded. “What is your job? What is this - where the fuck are we?”

Tommy was about to tell Gordon that prying answers out of the entity would be ultimately fruitless, even in possession of a crowbar, but he stopped short when he saw that the man was… smiling. Grinning outright, like he had just told a bad pun and was waiting for everyone to tell him to fuck off. This conversation was on purpose, Tommy realized, prodding Benrey to keep talking -  not to make sense of his story, but purely because its utter ridiculousness brought Gordon glee. He fought down a giggle and watched the exchange unfold.

“I - I mean,” Benrey went on, “if there’s a dick - if, y’know, someone’s dick out on the job, I gotta stop ‘em.”

“What are you on about? What?”

“But like... you don’t remember?”

“My dick has not been out all day.”

“No, no! Like... the first time we met.”

“Yeah, in fucki- before the test?”

“What test?”

Gordon exchanged a glance with his companions. “What does this have to - I don’t understand. I-”

“ Listen, ” Benrey said, and launched into an argument that Tommy could barely parse.

Deadly serious, the entity droned on about PlayStation 3, a game called Heavenly Sword, and the embarrassment of asking his coworkers for some kind of exclusive gaming membership. It was nonsensical, difficult to track, and Gordon was loving every second of it. Nearby, Coomer and Bubby were keeping a wary eye on their adversary, weapons in hand, but they were chuckling to themselves, as well.

Somehow this gigantic, horrifying creature was digging himself into a hole with every word, reducing little by little to just… an annoying guy with bad video game opinions. Benrey could immolate them on the spot, stretch out a massive hand and crush them like insects, and instead he was arguing with Gordon about the likelihood of a dick slip in the armored casing of a hazard suit. All Gordon had to do was keep him talking. Tommy felt a flood of admiration as he watched the guy ham it up with that shit eating grin on his face.

“How does that have to do with fucking anything?” he asked, punctuating every word with a gesture of his hand.

Benrey fell suddenly silent, pupils dilating like a cat out to hunt. “My friends are here,” he uttered quietly.

Gordon cut his eyes around the cavern, searching for signs of movement. “What friends?” he asked. “What is he talking about?”

Benrey’s volume rose in agitation, shaking the chamber and raining bits of gravel on their heads. “Sony CEO Jack Tretton survived a nuclear- a nuclear bomb!”

“What?” Gordon barked, taking a startled step back. “What? Should we…?” he looked to the others. “Should w-”

“Sony CEO Jack Tretton hired Nintendo CEO Reggie and they built a big bomb that was gonna go off... but I saved the world!” Benrey bellowed.

Tommy was convinced at this point that, if Benrey was ever occupying the same plane of reality the rest of them were in, he was no longer a part of it. His form began to shift and stretch, shoulders rolling and neck straining as he began to rise out of his false rigor mortis.

Though a touch of laughter remained in Gordon’s voice, he was beginning to sound alarmed. “Should we stop him?” he asked. “Should we just start shooting at him? Cause I d- it’s not gonna do-”

“No, no!” Tommy interrupted sarcastically. “Let hi - le- let him finish. We need to understand.”

Coomer let out a harsh chortle as he racked a round. “It would be rude to interrupt,” he agreed.

As Benrey continued to rise from the murk, a thin, skittering sound could be heard from the walls of the chamber. “So I didn’t - I didn’t have a big plan. I was ‘sposed to be nice, but you forced me to be baaad so I’m gonna be baaad, friend.”

Judging by the way Gordon’s eyes were skimming the area, he heard the noise, too, but laughter was still shaking his words. “How did I force you to… how did I force-?”

Benrey angled his chin toward Gordon, unimpressed with his mirth. “The big plot is slowly unraveling before our eyes,” he intoned. “Look at this.”

“Look at what?” Gordon demanded.

A horrible sound wrenched through the cavern, a sonic bass that Tommy felt deep within his chest cavity and shook the very room they stood in. The scratching grew louder and he caught flickering glimpses of skeletal hands in his periphery, reaching from the burrows that honeycombed the walls. He braced himself and raised the stock of his rifle to his shoulder.

“I don’t know what he’s saying anymore,” Gordon said, “I-”

There was a sickening rip-tear and a subsequent wave of red water rolling in their direction as Benrey hauled himself all at once to a standing position. He stared cooly down at the four of them, murderous intent clear on his face even at this distance. Fluid trickled down his form in red lines like blood. Tommy readjusted his aim.

Gordon took a couple frantic steps back, water sloshing around his legs. “What’s happening. What is happening?” he asked. “What is happening to him?”

“I can feel a change in his DNA,” Coomer answered thinly, right before Benrey became a nightmare.

His form unspooled like a helix torn in half. Flesh and bone separated, sinews snapping apart as whatever it was that made this thing Benrey released itself. The creature fanned wide, covering the space with limbs that shouldn’t function, eyes that shouldn’t be able to see, serrated and hungry. All this time it made a terrible noise, war made sound, shaking the cavern in its horror.

This wasn’t a joke anymore.

Several things happened at once. Skeletons poured from the walls, clawing and scraping toward them in a rattling wave. Gunfire exploded around Tommy as his teammates began firing - at Benrey, at the undead, at anything that moved to stave off the onslaught. The entity roared his frame-shaking bellow, and through the whirlwind of movement and all the terrible noise, the Science Team was scattered like dandelion seeds caught in a lawnmower.

Reality blurred for Tommy after that, boiling down in his brain to the pull of his trigger finger and his own heartbeat in his ears and Gordon, somewhere, frantically calling his name. Hearing it almost hurt worse than the psychic waves crashing over his body while the skeletons pursued him. He swung the stock of his rifle and shattered a stray skull as he ran.

Where did he run to? Where else was there to go but into oblivion? Panic rose in his throat as he fired off rounds and dodged the reaching fingers of the thing that once was Benrey. Distantly, he heard calls from his teammates, and then a hand locked around his wrist and he was being yanked into a portal.

Atoms scrambled, heart hammering in his throat, Tommy landed on the other side with his ears ringing, stumbling and tearing his palms open on the gravelled ground. For a second, all he could focus on was the steady beads of blood rising to the surface of his skin, hypnotic and scarlet in their mortality. But then a strong pair of hands were under his arms and Dr. Coomer hauled Tommy back to his feet. A heavy slap on the back knocked him back to reality.

Gordon, after checking that they had all made it through, swept the room with a cautious gaze as he rallied his nerves. “Are we safe?” he asked. “What is this?”

Did it matter where they were? Somewhere else in the monstrous structure that was Xen. A vesicle, an artery, the porous space inside a network of bronchioles. All Tommy could think about was how heavy his arms felt as he carried his gun. A pool of unidentifiable fluid lapped nearby, its depth unguessable.

“What the fuck is the plan?” Gordon asked them. “What do we do?” he passed a glance between Bubby and Coomer, who could only offer a collective shrug. His voice was on the verge of breaking as he went on. “I don’t know. I’m scared as shit.”

Bubby worked his jaw contemplatively. “I’m… confused,” he admitted, quiet in a humility Tommy rarely saw from him.

Dr. Coomer nodded in agreement. “I’ve never seen anything like this before, Gordon.”

Gordon turned his gaze to Tommy, who slowly shook his head. Stay alive. That was the plan right now for him. He wiped his bleeding hands off on his lab coat and said nothing.

“Okay… We know that he likes PS3… and that my dick-” he broke off to drag a hand down his face in frustration. “What the fuck? ”

“And he and his friend just got a - uh, month of PSN,” Tommy added.

“And Heavenly Sword,” Coomer agreed.

“Okay,” Gordon uttered automatically, backtracking with his brow furrowed. “I don’t kn - I’ve never played that game. Is there anything he said that’s gonna help us kill him? How do we kill this fuckin-”

“Well, he said it’s not a ripoff of God of War,” Dr. Coomer added, unhelpfully.

This somehow drew the entity’s ire, his terrible voice thundering through the chamber, source unknown. “It’s not a ripoff.”

Suddenly the walls were crawling with skeletons again and the once quiet room exploded with gunfire. As Tommy spun and popped off rounds, he distantly heard Bubby cry, “Into the water!”

His mouth was halfway open to bark wait waitwaitwaitgunsdon’tworkinwater - when there was a splash and his companions disappeared below the surface. Tommy spat out a curse and followed them.

Muffled silence pressed into his ears as he slipped into the depths. Tommy blinked against the gloom, darting his eyes around as he tread water with his rifle in one hand. There was Gordon, a furious figure filling hollow skulls with gunshot wounds. Bubby and Coomer backed him up, honing in on something dark and swirling beneath their feet. This shouldn’t be possible, shouldn’t be working in this way; physics were definitely, definitely busted here. A skeletal hand clutching at Tommy’s pant leg tore him from his thoughts and he twisted to kick it away.

Well. When in Xen. He bicycled his legs to stay afloat and started firing.

An explosion of something deep beneath them sent the water boiling, forcing the team to haul themselves to dry land while the skeletons perished around them. Tommy spluttered and coughed at the lip of the pool, limp and unresisting as someone hauled him out. Unsteadily, he found his footing as his lungs expelled water. He wiped his eyes clear of the brackish fluid and blinked them open, gaze finally focusing in on Gordon. He stood before Tommy with a steadying hand on either shoulder, space between his eyebrows creased with concern while rivulets of water ran off of him.

Tommy let out a quiet sigh and gave him a weak nod. I’m okay.

Gordon released him as soon as he was sure he could stand on his own. “Tommy, was that your passport?” he asked, chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“That was Tommy’s passport,” Bubby confirmed.

Tommy paused, brow furrowed, trying to recall ever seeing anything passport shaped in the murk. Water dripped and puddled around his shoes. “...No,” he said. How would that even make sense? A passport the size of a flatscreen, spinning in some alien pool, detonating upon impact? Seemed impossible, but so did a lot of other shit in this place.

Gordon’s eyes were alight, like he was on the edge of some conclusion. “That was your passport,” he insisted. “Is it in- it’s not in your pockets. Check your pockets. What’s going on?”

A span of silence stretched as Tommy wrestled with his exhausted brain for context. Maybe this was another physics thing, a side effect of existing on Xen. He scrubbed the side of his jaw with his fingertips in exasperation as he worked over his thoughts.

“He’s checking his pockets,” Gordon explained to the group, humor touching his voice. “He does it with his brain. With his mind.”

That was enough to surprise a light laugh out of Tommy, and when he met Gordon’s eyes, he saw that he was giving Tommy a weary smile of his own. Making jokes even now, even here, just for him. It was a balm to Tommy’s troubled soul.

“Tommy,” he prompted.

Okay, he’d humor him. Tommy slung his rifle over his shoulder and began patting the pockets of his slacks. “That was - ah- that- that wasn’t-” Hmm. Wallet, phone, keys. He checked the waterlogged pockets of his lab coat, too - old receipt, rubber band, gum wrapper - and came up empty. “Yeah, my passport’s missing,” he sighed.

“Okay!” Gordon exclaimed. “Okay, so he took our passports. And that's gotta be-”

“One by one,” Benrey interjected, disembodied voice shivering through the room.

“Oh, fuck,” Gordon hissed, freezing to check for more incoming denizens. When no threat immediately arrived, he continued hurriedly. “There’s gotta be some kinda energy field around it, and the skeletons…” he trailed off, raking his hand through his hair. “I don’t understand this. I don’t get it. But we gotta blow up the rest of those passports. We gotta put an end to this bullshit.”

He dropped his hand and looked to his team. Gordon had suspended his disbelief for the sake of taking down their enemy and was asking the others to, as well. Tommy fingered the rifle strap over his shoulder as he thought it over.

The way Gordon laid it out, this sounded vaguely like some video game thing. Benrey had pulled from Earth again to create an off-brand horcrux out of their passports, for what, spite? To fuck with Gordon? Tommy could hardly parse his motives, why he would set up an elaborate stunt like this when he could just outright kill them. What was he waiting for?

Tommy realized belatedly that three pairs of eyes were fixed on him, expectant. He sighed heavily through his nose and nodded. Okay. It was hope. The tiniest, slimmest claw of it, but it was hope. He’d try it. If Gordon was reaching for it, by god, he’d try it.

---

The subsequent three hours of Tommy’s life were some of the hardest he had to endure, and he’d lived through some pretty shitty ones in the past week. The Science Team hurried through Xen, weapons in hand, dodging skeletons and shockwaves of noise and the horrible flailing limbs of the thing that was Benrey as they sought out the other passports. All of it swirled together in a cacophony of gunshots and white noise, but Tommy knew there were things he’d see on the backs of his eyelids at night after this.

Bubby’s failed prototypes, crawling and lockjawed. Colored lines of psychic barriers, trapping him in place and squeezing the air out of him. And the skeletons. The skeletons were possibly the worst thing, because Tommy realized he recognized some of them. Nametags clipped to half-shredded uniforms told him that these were the people Benrey had killed in Black Mesa, and now they were conscripted to pursue Tommy and his friends through this nightmare. Looking at them made him sick. Shooting them made him sicker.

They eliminated Bubby’s passport. Then Coomer’s. Benrey attempted to flaunt his, and they took that one out, too. They fell back and regrouped, shaky and warweary with the blood roaring in their ears. How all four of them were still alive was a miracle. Water sloshed around their legs, thick and red.

“Gordon,” Coomer panted as they retreated from Benrey’s looming form. “We’ve got all the passports, but… You - you never had yours with you, did you?”

“No,” he ground out through gritted teeth. His legs were shaking with the effort it was taking him to stand. “It’s in the locker.”

“Bad little boy,” Benrey rumbled from across the room. The skeletons that had loped around him like a pack of wolves were gone, but he still cut a menacing image in his oversized state.

Gordon’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “He’s just waiting to kill us,” he huffed. “He’s just playing with us now. There’s no more portals.”

“No,” Bubby said suddenly.

Tommy, Coomer, and Gordon cast him curious glances.

His eyes glittered, defiant and steely, behind his glasses as he set his jaw. “I don’t accept this death,” he said with resolve. “I have a plan.”

Tommy caught on immediately. It would be putting Gordon at a huge risk, but it was likely the only chance they had. He turned to Gordon, already hating himself for the suggestion on his lips.

“Do you think you can still get your passport if you go back?”

Gordon cut his eyes over to him. “How can we go back, Tommy?”

We, he said. We, not I. Tommy dropped his gaze, unable to look at Gordon. He wanted nothing more than to follow him back to where this all started, to stand at his side and fix this mess together. The thought of sending him through alone felt like tearing out one of his own organs. He swallowed thickly and didn’t answer him. Tommy was needed here. He would stay here.

Bubby was already unholstering the weapon he’d kept stashed since they departed from Darnold’s lab. It hummed as he powered it up. “We can go back,” he said, with confidence.

“Portal gun,” Coomer exclaimed.

Gordon blinked. “So that’s what th-”

“Everyone,” Bubby cut him off. “I need space.”

Tommy and Dr. Coomer exchanged a glance before retreating to a safe distance behind Bubby. Coomer raised his rifle and locked the sight on Benrey in a warning. The entity stayed put, tracking them with his big yellow eyes.

“This’ll be a little trippy,” Bubby warned. “It’ll be a little fucked up. But we’re going to have to take you back to the past.”

“Send me back, Bubby,” Gordon said, bracing himself.

Coomer didn’t take his eye away from the scope as he offered a final, “Godspeed, Gordon.”

“Alright, one last warp,” he sighed. He tossed a disdainful look over his shoulder at the entity. “Later, Benrey,” he growled.

“Peace,” Benrey sneered at a distance, grinning like a wolf.

Tommy raised his rifle to provide suppressing fire with Coomer while Bubby pulled the trigger. There was a discordant snap to his reality that left his ears ringing as a flashfire of green billowed out. He flicked a final look at Gordon, met his eyes just before he blinked out.

The man smiled, determined and lovely, as he disappeared.

Chapter 20 <-----> Chapter 22

[leahxx129]

The Last Descendant (Sam Winchester x Reader) pt.2

Summary for pt.2: You wake up in an entirely unfamiliar place but soon run into a familiar face. As the days pass, you grow closer to each other but every good thing has to come to an end, right?

Warnings: cursing, careless medication use

Word count: 2.850-ish

Read Part 1 HERE.

You wake up with a headache and an unusually dry throat, but these are minor inconveniences comparing to the fact that the room you’re in strikes you completely unfamiliar. You have no idea where you are. You throw off the covers and try to get up, but a painful throb in your left leg slows you down a bit. You examine the aching limb just to discover an apple-sized deep purple spot on it.

„What the hell happened?” you mutter under your breath. Eventually, you bring yourself to get up and limp over to the bathroom. 

„Well, you look like crap, princess!” you compliment your reflection and decide to wash your face, which, you conclude, doesn’t help at all. 

You find some painkillers in the nightstand drawer and pop a few pills, not caring to read the instructions regarding the dosage first. You find your stuff on a chair in the corner but decide against putting the skintight jeans on. Your leg definitely isn’t in the condiotion to be sexy, so you just slip into your ankle boots that go surprisingly well with the oversized male plaid shirt you’re wearing. Walking gives you a great deal of trouble, but being the stubborn ass person you are, you choose to ignore it and leave the room anyway. The corridor is way too lit and it gives off a hospital vibe, but you can tell this place isn’t one. There is a strange symbol on each door which seems remarkably familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on it just yet. You wander aimlessly through the corridors that follow each other until you hear a noise coming from a room. When you limp closer and peek in you can see a man standing in what appears to be a kitchen, back turned to you.

„Best defense is a good offense, so here goes nothing…” you think to yourself as you creep up behind him as quietly as possible. You grab a frying pan from a hanger and just as you are about to give it a swing, the man turns around and grabs your wrist.

„Whoa..hey..Y/N!”

You stand there speechless for a second but regain your composure considerably fast.

„Abercrombie?! What are you doing here??”

He rolls his eyes.

„I thought we’ve established it’s Sam and I live here.”

„Then what am I doing here?!”

„Y/N, just calm down, okay? I’ll explain everything-”

„Well, I’m listening!” you cut in nervously.

„Give me the frying pan first, before you hurt anyone!” he commands, and you hand him the kitchen utensil despite your unwillingness. „Great. Now take a seat, I doubt your leg is already as good as new.” he comments, his eyes lingering on the purple spot. „Want some coffee?”

„Sure.” you sit down on the chair closest to you „I drink it with two loads of sugar, sprinkled with a little bit of an explanation.”

He gives you the most authentic bitchface you’ve ever seen in your life as he sits down across to you and hands you your coffe.

„It’s kind of a long story.”

„I’m listening.”

„Well…in a nutshell, you forgot something in the hotel room and when you came back for it, I invited you to have a few drinks as a sign of my gratitude for saving my ass. Then after a few too many we caught up on that kinky wild sex you had joked about before.”

You stare at him doumbfounded, which he finds very entertaining.

„We drank absinthe, didn’t we?” you finally manage to say while running both  hands through your hair „I mean I love that shit, but it can fuck me up real bad.”

Your comment seems to break him, and he starts chuckling.

„What? What’s so funny, Winchester?” it takes a couple of second before it dawns upon you „This didn’t happen, did it?” you ask through gritted teeth.

„Nope. But you should’ve seen your face.” he shoots you a content smile.

„Quit messing with me because bad leg or not, I can still kick your 6”2’ ass.”

„Is that really the way you’d treat someone who saved your life?”

„What do you mean? And I want the truth this time.”

He sighes and his expression turns grim just in a matter of seconds.

„Remember the blonde chick with the vampire you killed?” you nod „Turns out she wan’t a victim you saved from becoming monster snack. She was his mate.”

„Oh, okay. And?”

„And… you could say that she was kind of pissed off that you decapitated her one true love. So, when you took off on your bike and turned on the interstate road, she hit you right in the side with a truck. It’s basically a miracle that you got off with nothing more than a fractured leg bone.”

You gulp your coffee slowly.

„Based on that look on your face, this is not the end of the story, is it?” 

„No.” his voice is barely above a whisper „She then took you to a nearby abandoned warehouse and… and she wanted to turn you. That’s when I arrived. You see, the part of you forgetting something in the hotel room wasn’t entirely a lie. You left your machete there. I went after you immediately, assuming you left the way you did as that’s the only way out of that town. I saw your bike in the bushes and the signs lead to the warehouse…. I was just on time.”

You can feel tear drops forming in the corners of your eyes, so you wipe them off before they have the chance to surfice. The fact that he cared enough to save you stirs up so many unwanted feelings, feelings you thought died a long time ago.

„Thanks.”

„No problem. You did the same for me.”

A long silence falls on the kitchen.

„Y/N?”

„Hmm?”

„When I fought with the vampire, something weird happened.”

„Yeah?”

„Yeah. When I cut her on the arm with your blade, she just… froze. Like… almost as if something was already killing her from the inside.”

You hesitate a little. Should you tell him? After all, he saved you. He deserves to know. Certain parts, at least.

„It was forged with dead man’s blood. Incapacitates those fuckers just long enough for hunters to cut their heads off. Real piece of work, might I add.”

He nods as if he’s confirming a theory.

„One more question… where’d you get it?”

„Every girl’s gotta have her secrets, Sam.” you smirk at him mysteriously.

You steal quick glances at Sam whenever he’s not looking. And when he’s researching, he rarely looks at anything but the lore book. What is it about this man? What is it that makes you sit here and help him instead of running? What happened to staying out of everyone’s business? A few hours ago he told you everything… he’d been drunk the night you met, because his brother’s in trouble and he has no idea how to save him and he just lost it. But the worst part came when he mentioned the Men of Letters and that you’re currently at a safe house of theirs. This only should’ve made you grab your stuff and get gone, but the part involving angels and Michael above all is kind of the main reason for leaving and never looking back. And yet here you are, helping him, convincing yourself it’s because he saved you and your leg still needs time to heal… You shut the book you’ve been reading a little too fast, drawing his attention to yourself.

„If I have to read one more sentence, I swear my eyeballs are gonna start spinning around in their sockets and I’ll see my brain.” you say quickly in your defense, looking as innocent as possible. The right corner of his lips curls into a barely visible smile.

„Go get some shut-eye. You’ve been very helpful, Y/N, thanks.”

„Yeah, I’ve been helpful at finding nothing….” you murmur in response.

„Hey, you went through an entire book in just a span of a few hours! I call that help, even if there is no relevant information in it. Sleep well.”

„Will do.” you force a smile knowing exactly how big of a lie your reply is.

You limp back to the room you woke up in and read the manual on the painkilling drugs.

„Shit!” it’s not strong enough to knock you out for the entire night. „Well then, Sam might crap his pants later this night when the show starts…” you whisper to yourself and take a couple of pills.

The fatigue and the warmth of your blanket soon sends you to sleep. You don’t know how long you usually go without dreams, but at one point they always appear. First, they start off nice, mostly memories of your family. You, your father, mother and brother having a barbecue in the backyard, or just watching TV in the living room, anything basic you enjoyed doing with them. Then there’s a turning point when everything goes to hell. They appear and slaughter your whole family in front of you, one by one. Your father is the last one. He sees you hiding and tries to mouth something to you, but he’s choking on his own blood and you can’t make out anything, at least not until it’s too late. Every scream, every death rattle stops once and for all and that’s when you realize what he was saying. And you do it, regardless that it’s almost no use. You always wake up exactly when this happens, sweaty and screaming, but this time it’s different. There is someone calling your name.

„Y/N, wake up…Jesus, Y/N, wake UP!!” you hear a deep manly voice. Still in the haze of your recurring nightmare, you’re not able to identify who and you do what any person in this line of job would – try to incapacitate the intruder. In a blink of an eye you pull the person onto yourself, then shift so you would be on top and point the gun you got from under your pillow in their face. You’re seeing stars from the pain that shoots through your leg as a result of your swift movements, but you do your best to ignore them and supress the urge of crying out. The only thing disturbing the heavy silence is your panting.

„Sam?!” you finally recognize him.

„Uh, yeah!” his hands are in the air, his gaze is shifting between the gun and your eyes. „I heard this awful screaming coming from your room and I thought something happened…”

You let the gun down and avert your eyes.

„Yeah, not so much. I mean, when people witness this, they freak out, but it’s just another typical night of fucked up sleep for me.”

„You were tossing and flailing and… it honestly sort of looked like you could hurt yourself.” he adds in a low tone.

„Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t. It’s fifty-fifty.” you admit, which quite frankly surprises you. You don’t really open up to anyone.

„I see…” his eyes then slowly travel all the way down your body from your face to your thighs as you are still stradling him.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you slide off him to his right side.

„Sorry about that. And, well, for the whole thing.”

„Oh, don’t be, it was nothing at all. I’ve seen a lot worse actually.” ha pauses for a second, but can’t keep himself from asking „Hey Y/N…Was this…was this about the reason you got into the life?”

„Make a guess.” you respond sarcastically, and he draws his brows together in confusion, awakening some guilt in you. Sam is just trying to be there for you to which your reaction is pushing him away.

„I’m sorry.” you sigh „Yeah. It was about the reason, damn straight. You know how everybody gets into the life by losing someone?” he nods „Well, try losing your whole family at fourteen. Now that can mess your head up real bad. Even though it’s been more than a decade now, my subconscious makes sure I never forget what happened.”

„You know, if you’d like to share-„ he starts but you jump in.

„I appreciate it, Sam, I really do, but I don’t think I can do it.” 

„Of course, it’s fine. „ he gets off the bed and starts towards the door but stops halfway and sits down in a chair. You look at him perplexed.

„Uhm, Sam? What are you doing?”

„Nothing. Just making sure that if you fall asleep, you won’t hurt yourself.”

„By sitting there and watching me sleep like a weird-ass creep?”

„Now that you say it out loud, yes, I admit it sounds way worse than it actually is-”

„Sam, I don’t need a sleeping nanny. I’m a big girl, I can handle a few bruises every now and then.”

„Y/N, please. I’m pretty sure that seeing my naked butt added to your trauma, so please let me do this for you. Let me help you. Or at least let me try.” he pleads. You suddenly realize the weight of his words. He really wants to do this for you and for himself. He couldn’t help his brother, and this chance strikes him as a step on the path of redemption.

„Okay. I hope you don’t snort.”

He smiles at you gratefully. You replicate his expression and turn to the other side and try to fall asleep again. You have no idea how much time has passed but you can’t take it anymore. You sit up abruptly.

„Okay, this isn’t working. I can’t fall asleep knowing that you’re sitting there and staring at me.”

„What? I’m not staring, don’t be ridiculous.” he scoffs.

„You know what? Come here.”

„Beg your pardon?”

„Sit here beside me. Or lay down. Or whatever. This way the whole thing won’t have that creepy stalking vibe.”

„You sure about that?” maybe you’re imagining it, but his voice sounds a bit higher than usual.

„Yup. Although I might kick you a few times, which I apologize for in advance.”

„O-Okay.” 

A couple of second pass when you feel the bed sink in a little bit on your left side.

„We can share my blanket if you’d like.”

„Thanks.” he whispers, and you feel him tug on the fabric.

„Good night, Sam.”

„Good night, Y/N.”

When Sam lays beside you, he makes sure to keep a certain distance between the two of you. But during the night when you wake up, you find yourself a little too close to him. Your head is on his chest, your right arm is around his torso. One of his arms is around you, his lips brush against your forhead. You can feel his hot breath fanning your face. Your very first intinct is to jump out of the bed as far away from him as possible, but somehow you don’t follow it. What the hell’s wrong with you now? Or was something wrong with you earlier when you thought cutting everyone out was the only way? You have no idea. And the fact that Sam’s hold around you tightens does not aid you in finding an answer.

The next morning you prepare breakfast by the time he wakes up. None of you mention the proximity you’ve experienced the previous night. The day goes by with researching. You try to crack a joke occasionally and it appears effective – he rewards them with a smile, even with a laughter once. 

Later on, your attempt at a peaceful slumber is again ruined by your restless subconscious. Sam bursts through the door. This time you don’t pull a gun at him – your shaking hands and tear-blurred eyes wouldn’t even let you - but sternly express your desire for him to leave. Being a Winchester, he does the exact opposite, this time not bothering to keep a distance.  Somehow your figure and his fit perfectly. This goes on for a few days, but you decide to leave. The research isn’t going anywhere, but Sam’s Mom and a friend named Bobby supposedly have a lead on his brother. Plus, you have your own business to run, you can’t keep on playing vacation and miss out on everything.

As a surprise, Sam’s fixed your bike that got trashed in the accident.

„I’m nowhere near my brother, but I did learn from the best.” he says shyly, scratching the back of his ear.

„No, Sam, it’s perfect. Couldn’t have done a better job myself.” you say as you stand on your toes to press a kiss on his cheek. Your lips may linger a little longer than they should. „Thanks. For everything.” you add, your voice scarcely a whisper. He smiles down at you, not saying anything.

You walk to your bike, but before you put your helmet on, the words basically just fall out of your mouth. 

„Hey, don’t be a stranger, Winchester. You should call sometimes.”

[neshabeingchildish]

Hensley & Char: Friends or Whatever || Part 6

I have to warn y’all, this chapter has some sadness in it. I tapped into 15 year old me and how I was trying to navigate what I thought back then was me being bi, which IF someone calls me bi, I am not opposed to the able, even being technically ace, but for that time and for my feelings/experience and the language I had access to, that’s what I was considering myself as, but nobody knew that (though I was rumored gay by several people in high school, despite never seeing me in any relationships and me only ever speaking about male crushes to others) LOL, yes, Mama used to have male crushes irl, when I was a kid. But, I tapped into some of myself, but made it more Charlotte-like and leaned on the gay. Idk how well it will or won’t resonate, but I hope that I at least did Charlotte justice in her experience with looking inward, though her results may be disappointing, I hope that they at least come across as realistic, if not relatable or understandable. @just-a-j-reallly @junknstu1f @henryharts I’m not in a rush for feedback, as I know everybody has things going on. Hopefully my tags work out. A lot of people never get notified of them.

Also, as a heads up, the next chapter, whenever that might come, might also be sad too. I’m so sorry. 

The Jasper Juxtaposition

They had been trying to get Jasper into the fold of their outfit for a while. Ray wasn’t having it. Even whenever Charlotte basically throw her pride into a burning bin, seeping with trash juice, to pretend that she was secretly dating Hensley, but that they couldn’t tell anyone because, “Charlotte’s not out of the closet.” At this point, Charlotte was very heavily debating this ruse. 

There was an element of “people shouldn’t lie/joke about being in the closet,” which she strongly and firmly believed in… But… She went along with it anyway, because as she did her backstory for this test on Jasper, she found that she comfortably created the guise. 

“I can say that I’ve been curious about my sexuality for a while, and seeing you out of the closet, living your best gay life inspired me to come to you for advice on how to navigate figuring it out and in the process, we fell for each other and started dating secretly.”

Hensley laughed in her face and said, “It’s Jasper, Char. You don’t have to say all of that. Just be like, “We’re gay together, Dude.” He’s gonna accept it and be super chill about it. I’m not convinced there’s a pile of homo rattling around in him, if we’re being honest. PLUS, he thinks we’re both hot. He’s gonna get a kick out of us kissing and stuff.”

“I’m not kissing you!” Charlotte squealed.

Hensley turned up her nose, “What? Ew. No! Of course not. Ugh. This incites disgust, to think of it.” She shook her head, “Kissing a straight girl… in the mouth? I don’t know where your mouth has been. On boys, probably. I don’t want boy kiss transfer.”

“You kissed Chloe all the time!” Charlotte argued, unsure of why that was her response instead of arguing that she didn’t want to kiss Hensley (and hadn’t been kissing any boys, unless you counted kissing Jack Swagawitz at camp… which… she didn’t), and furthermore…

“Chloe was different, though. I really liked her,” Hensley said.

“You went out with Bianca as soon as you had a window,” Charlotte muttered.

“You told me to go for it! What? Now, I gotta stop listening to my smarter half?”

They bickered up until the moment that Jasper came over for them to feed him the lie. Whoa, were they bad at lying together… Fortunately, it was Jasper. Who, Charlotte was very disturbed by his fascination with the thought of them kissing. “Jasper is fetishing us, and I don’t like it,” she told Hensley.

“He’s not fetishizing you. He’s fetishizing fake lesbian you. It’s different.”

“Yeah, but… He’s… fetishizing lesbians!”

“He’s a dude. Dudes do that,” Hensley said, waving a hand. Charlotte didn’t like that explanation and it was often Hensley’s excuse for a number of sexist and problematic things that happened on her watch. Maybe it was for the best that Jasper didn’t pass the test. Then she’d have a problematic Hensley, and ANOTHER problematic guy at work. Ray was alright. He was nice, enough, but he said stuff sometimes that made her uncomfortable and he didn’t really listen whenever she pointed these things out. (Something that she had no idea would get worse over time, but that’s another subject.

Currently, the subject is Jasper. 

It took a while before Jasper came on board with the team. It took a while before he was ready for this secret. From the time that Hensley and Charlotte “broke up” until then, there were a lot of adventures that Hensley and Char saw together that made them really close in a way that Charlotte and Jasper were not, and even that Jasper and Henry were not. And in a way, for Charlotte, it was a lot like the fabricated story that she had spun - their secret involvement and the connecting together that nobody knew about… Also, since then, she had really been thinking about how easy it was for her to think of that, and how… relatable it felt, how natural it was to even imagine herself, keeping that sort of secret because she couldn’t tell people that she maybe… well… she didn’t really think it was so much a maybe these days… liked girls. 

More specifically, she maybe (and this WAS still a maybe), liked Hensley. Her hopeless heroine who she helped on a daily basis, and loved being so close to, even when she complained and fussed at her about the things that she deserved to be fussed at about. She would probably NEVER let her live down almost getting killed by Jasper’s crazy ex girlfriend, and she was so tired of Hensley always coming to her to get her out of stuff that she warned her about prior to the decision - like when she tried to go to the dance with Chloe as Kid Danger and Bianca as herself… STUPID HENSLEY! Charlotte decided, right around Jasper Dunlop Day that she wasn’t doing this anymore. She was going to explore her options and see what felt right. 

She bought a project board, some cards, and a science journal and she set up, literally in her closet, a little experiment center. She decorated the board, and across the top, had lettered, “Am I Gay?” Her hypothesis?: “I might be gay.” Procedure: Well, she supposed, she had to talk to some people, go on some dates, maybe kiss somebody? She shuddered. The amount of germs in saliva was terrifying to her. In fact, whenever she kissed Jack, she had threatened, “If you slip me any tongue, I’ll slip my fist right into your ribcage!” Needless to say, he slipped her no tongue.

But, her “experimentation phase” generally was not very successful for a number of reasons. 

First and foremost… meeting people? She wasn’t a fan. She joined the Student Council as a means to help her with a bit of self diagnosed social anxiety, but cared a lot about issues, so that she genuinely stayed in it to do community stuff and be a helpful member of the club. She met cool people, too! It was one of her things away from Hensley and away from Jasper, and wasn’t primarily academic, so she held it close to her heart as something for herself and decided against using it, and the fine people she met in it as lab rats for her orientation exploration.

Then, there was the little problem of personal space and unnecessary touching. There were very few people that she allowed into her bubble. Her parents, Uncle Roscoe, Hensley, Jasper, Piper, and Ray, and even with Ray, she tensed up for the longest time whenever he entered her bubble without warning. Even with that select amount of people who could be in her bubble, the only people that could casually touch her were her parents and Hensley. Sometimes Piper, but Piper had the respect to not touch her for no good reason. Unlike Hensley, who she simply had to get used to the fact that the girl was simply GOING TO just stand close, throw her arm around her, hug her, pick her up, play with her hair, tug on her backpack, or whatever she felt like doing at the time, and saying, “You should get permission before touching people,” just became background noise for Hensley, after a while, so Charlotte simply stopped saying it and adjusted. 

Jasper still sometimes got elbowed. It just wasn’t the same thing when a dude just touched you casually, she had initially thought. Maybe that wasn’t it at all and she just didn’t mind girls touching her as much, because she liked them? But… in order to figure that out, she’d have to let people in her bubble and let people casually touch her and see how she felt about it. 

So often, when it looked like somebody was getting too close, she stepped away, creating the distance of comfort for her and also, very clearly letting them see where it was. To the point that everybody who knew her knew not to get too close and everybody in her extracurriculars always did stuff like, “Hey Charlotte, I’m gonna take this lint off of you, okay?” (to which, she’d tell them to show her where it was and get it herself) or “Hi, Charlotte, do you mind if I sit here, or is that too close for you?”(To which she’d tell them to go ahead, but she’d move over more). She’d have to start telling people that being near her was okay, if she wanted to see her reactions to boys and girls and others in her proximity… And nowadays, they didn’t even ask anymore.

Even Mitch Bilsky would take one look at her and say, “UGH. The only space is by the queen of “don’t stand so close to me?” He’d then still do it, and even purposefully make her squirm, but she would resolve to ignore him and he’d get bored and move along.

But, she didn’t have very many times to test this out, and had to eventually rule out trying to get close to people (or let them get close to her) to see if she might feel a little flutter or not. 

Lastly, in addition to not being a people person and not wanting anybody in her personal space, The Man Cave was a whole ass full time job to maintain. She began to wonder what happened to people who previously worked for Ray/Captain Man? Even the ones that were there when she got there, and ones that would pop in and out for little assignments… after a while, she just didn’t see them, and she either was assigned their jobs, or took it upon herself to do them for worry of things going terribly wrong if she didn’t. Things went wrong in general, and she often felt like if she didn’t step in whenever she did, they could be downright disastrous. This job basically became her life. She never signed up for another marathon after dropping out whenever she thought the Super Volcano would kill them. She still had StuCo, but that was school related and when push came to shove, she only forsook the Man Cave for educational purposes, unless it was an extreme emergency.

In fact, she completely gave up on testing it all out and just let it bother her beneath the surface. Her conclusion: I’m more confused than ever, but technically… going to consider myself in the closet.

Imagine if I was as comfortable with myself as Jasper is…

You couldn’t tell that boy nothing. He protested stupid Swellview laws, jumped into hero mode to get his own hero day, wore belly shirts to everyone’s chagrin, was willing to go to tremendous lengths - sometimes extremely embarrassing ones - to get girls, and he overshared weird facts about his body with great excitement that just let you know that he adored these things about himself… 

She couldn’t even with certainty say that she MIGHT like girls, which, she was sure that she absolutely did, but she could hardly admit it to herself, much less out loud. What if it hurt her? What if it affected how she was seen by people on college boards or in the job field, once she left Swellview. Sure… there were YEARS before this happened, but Charlotte had been thinking ahead since she was small, and the moment she felt an inkling that her feelings may be… counterculture, she began to research related laws and statistics. 

Swellview didn’t have a big Black population. In fact, the demographics indicated that there were a lot more lgbt citizens than there were people who weren’t white, period. So, in Swellview, perhaps it wouldn’t be anything to be open about her sexuality… but… what if it was different for her, like a lot of things were. It was often different for her as a girl to be accepted in some spaces, to be listened to, to be respected. And it was frequently double different for her as a Black girl. Even the “good” people made her feel things that she often didn’t want to complain about, because they ALREADY thought she was an angry girl, when she couldn’t think of very many instances in which her anger was not justified. Research told her that was a common issue for Black girls and women. She didn’t have enough around her to touch base with, and was frustrated that she had to consider all of these intersections to even consider whether she would be free enough to have a sexual identity. 

Even with her academic record, immaculate articulation, and non-threatening appearance, Charlotte didn’t have many friends and didn’t have the best reputation. She was a nerd, but also, unfriendly. A Black girl in a male dominant world, in a white dominant city, and to possibly also be gay… she just… she couldn’t just toss that out there and have it attached to her name without knowing, and she felt like a coward for feeling like that. 

What would be the big deal, Charlotte? If that’s who you are… what would be so wrong about that? People be gay all over Swellview… but then again… everyday, she would see people be able to freely do things that she previously thought she WOULD never do, but as she got older realized that she wouldn’t do certain things, because she COULD never do them… not without possibly losing something. Chances? Respect? Heck, in certain areas of the world, her life. But, thinking this hard about it and not coming up with anything to push her to believe that she was indeed a straight girl, despite all of the reasons that it would be SO easy, and she loved easy things, despite her knack for tackling hard things. Why wouldn’t she just accept that she was straight, if that would make all of this anguish and confusion go away? She could just tell herself that she was straight and get it over with and move on… IF she was indeed straight. And if she wasn’t, no matter how much “experimentation” and hypothesizing she did, nothing would make her feel those feelings that she sometimes felt around Hensley, for some boy. 

So… She just sat with it. In her closet. She didn’t experiment and she didn’t hypothesize. But, in her science journal that she had previously been writing all of these things in, she scratched out her conclusion and wrote. 

Conclusion: I’m gay. 

But, she tore the page out and wadded it up. Then, she felt bad, straightened it back out, and slid it back into it's space. She tucked her cards into it and stuffed it into a lock box where she kept keepsakes and stuff, locked it in and got rid of her project board in the Junk n Stuff dumpster. 

She had been handling Kid Danger’s secret for a couple of years now and planned to hold on to it forever. She had time to figure out what to do with her own.

Besides… by the time Jasper got in on the secret… Things changed a lot, anyway.