#looks forlornly out my window. when will i touch grass

[rileyclaw]

“Next Time”

quick fan animatic that takes place between Any Sport in a Storm & Hollow Mind

[crystalirises]

Clouds V.2.

Help girl, I think I’m confused./j

I swear I posted this??? Huh??? I can’t find it on my blog? Bruh???? 

Sorry if I did post this and this becomes a repost, I just can’t find the original post (am I being dumb wtf???)

Anyway... uh... second version of the Clouds fic I posted. Again, sorry if this is a repost I literally am so confused rn. Help ;-; (did I delete it??? omg I can’t remember whut)

It can also be found on Ao3 but Tumblr is being weird for me rn so I can’t add the ao3 link ;-;

Edit: I found the original post but it doesn’t appear unless I click on the fundy tag on my own blog but if I look at just the blog it doesn’t appear... I am so confused tumblr what did I do.

So, same warnings as the previous Clouds fic.

TW: Poisoning and Major Character Death

The pitter-patter of his footsteps echoed loudly against the cobblestone, wringing his hands together he wondered if it would be too inconsiderate of him to cancel at the last second. Ghostbur would be here at any second. The thought only fueled the terrible anxiety that had taken over him the moment Ghostbur had suggested his idea. He should just pretend he was sick... Yeah. Yeah. He could do that, right?

His ears twitched at the top of his head, drooping as he recalled that today was supposed to be a happy one. Phil had come over and Eret had shown him around the castle as Fundy watched from behind the corner. Phil had given nothing away, his lips set into a thin line as he took in the stone walls of the structure. Fundy felt his heart pound at the recent memory, he really thought Phil was going to refuse.

"As you can see, there's plenty of room here for Fundy. I was actually planning to give him this entire wing of the—" Eret was a great host, a perpetual smile on their face despite the tense atmosphere between them and Phil. Fundy didn't know how Eret could keep their calm when he was over there panicking.

"That's enough, Eret. I've seen enough." Phil's voice cut through the air. It was the only time he's spoken since the tour began. Eret turned to face him, their flurried movement muffled by the soft red carpet beneath their feets.

"What's the verdict, then?" Eret's voice was soft, a hint of their own nervousness coming through his tone. Fundy was shaking. He liked Eret. He really did. But Phil... He didn't know what Phil knew about Eret but—

"You're a kind person, Eret, and I can see you've put a lot of thought into this adoption thing." Phil let out a sigh, gesturing to one of the rooms. "Shall we look at the papers then?"

The two disappeared into the room, leaving Fundy to his thoughts. Eret had left the door open a crack, an invitation. Fundy couldn't bring himself to hear Phil break the news that, no, he wasn't getting adopted. Not if Phil had anything to say about it. Fundy sat down in one of the alcoves, forlornly gazing out the window at the clouds that drifted into view. It felt as if an eternity had passed before he heard the creak of the door.

He looked over at the two, a warm grin on both their faces. "You'll be a great parent, Eret. Take good care of him." Phil patted Eret on the back. "If they ever do you wrong, Fundy. Don't ever hesitate to tell me."

And with that, Phil walked away, declining Eret's offer to escort him out the castle.

He looked at Eret - his dad? mom? ren? - disbelief on his face as he realized that it was over. He... He had a parent again!

"D-dad?" The word felt foreign against his tongue... but it felt right.

Eret smiled, opening up his arms. "Come here, son."

He practically jumped into his new parent's arms, a happiness he hadn't felt in a long time bubbling from within him. "Thank you."

Fundy awoke from the memory, a smile had climbed its way to his face as he thought of the events of the morning. He wanted to spend the rest of the day with Eret but Ghostbur paid him a visit. The ghost looked pale - well paler than a ghost should be - he flickered in and out of view so fast that Fundy thought his mind was playing a trick on him. Fundy expected that visit, but he didn't expect what Ghostbur wanted to say.

As blood seeped from the ghost's chest, he had fallen to his knees (uh... Fundy wasn't sure if the ghost tail could be counted as knees), begging Fundy to give him one last day to be a father. If it had been the old Wilbur, Fundy would have said no. But... He couldn't help but pity Ghostbur. He was trying so hard to fix his mistakes… and it wasn't like he knew what he had done in his life. How could Fundy leave him in such a desolate state?

He should have said no. What would he even say? There’s so many things he wished he could say. But Ghostbur… he wasn’t Wilbur. Wilbur was gone, replaced by a pitiful remnant of the man’s spirit. Maybe he should just leave and say he was sick—

“So— Fundy!”

Shit. Too late to go back now. A shiver ran down his spine as the ghost’s presence made itself known, Ghostbur’s low voice causing him to jump a bit as he turned to look around. Ghostbur had a soft smile on his face, his complexion paler than before. Phantom blood clung to the man’s yellow sweater, dripping every so often only to dissipate the moment it reached the ground. Fundy could only hope that Ghostbur’s blood didn’t end up inside the picnic basket he was carrying.

“Hey. Hey, Wil. So, what’s with the picnic basket?”

“Oh! I was wondering what we could do today and then I remembered. Remember when you were younger and we would have a picnic near the riverbank?” There was a glint in Ghostbur’s eyes, Fundy swears he’s seen it before. “I… I thought we could do that.”

Fundy doesn’t have the heart to tell the ghost that... technically… the only person who’ll be eating was Fundy. He sighed, nodding as an answer to Ghostbur’s question. “We used to do it with mom.” He does not miss the way Ghostbur’s smile disappears, grief flickering on the ghost’s face at the mention of his old love. The sad emotion faded just as quickly, replaced by that infuriating smile as if nothing had just happened. “Lead the way then, Wil.”

“OH! Right!”

Ghostbur floated beside him, the cobblestone pathways gave way to wooden bridges and wooden bridges gave way to grassy plains. Fundy wondered why Ghostbur wanted to have their picnic away from New L’Manburg when there was a river nearby its borders. He would ask… if the ghost didn’t keep changing the topic every second. Ghostbur alternated between telling what he had done that day to what Fundy had done that day. Fundy could hardly keep up with the conversation at all. It was almost as if the ghost was rambling.

“I helped Niki with her bakery today—“

“Oh? That’s great, Wil—“

“Have you talked with Niki recently?”

“Well, I—“

“Oh, I also had a small chat with Phil!”

“Uh huh.”

“He eventually had to leave for something, mentioning Eret and a meeting…”

“That’s probably cause—“

“You like Phil, right?”

“Yeah, Wil can you pick one—“

“Oh I also picked some flowers and some berries today.”

“That’s great, Wil.”

“I made you a salad!”

“Oh.”

Fundy tuned out midway, seeing as Ghostbur didn’t really care for what he had to say. He looked up into the sky instead, watching the clouds float by, their ethereal presence soothing him a bit. He began to trace their edges, imagining a world within the clouds. If he looked closely, he could almost see a cloud that looked just like a salmon. He felt a sharp pang in his heart, a memory from his childhood echoing from the recesses of his mind.

“My little champion, look at you. When did you get so big, huh?” Wilbur held him closely to his chest, a calloused hand caressing his hair as they made their way through the grassy field. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, a beautiful day… a peaceful day. “What present do you want, huh?”

He looked up, the clouds that floated above their heads looked like the marshmallows that his uncle Tommy had once given him. He pointed at one that looked suspiciously like a flower, “Clouds.” Wilbur laughed, holding his son closer.

“You deserve the world, Fundy.” He placed a small kiss on the top of Fundy’s head. “Someday.”

“Hurry up, you two!” His mother’s voice drifted across the field, the sunlight tangled in her long red hair. She had gone ahead to unpack for the picnic. Fundy could remember her smile, her deep love for him… but… he… he can’t recall what she looked like…

“Fundy?” He tore himself away from the memory, his mother taught him to see the shapes in the clouds, didn’t she? there was a cold hand pressed against his cheek, Ghostbur’s eyes peered down at him from above. The steady noise of a rushing river registered in his ears, how long had he zoned out? He moved away from Ghostbur’s touch, the heat returning to his cheek. “We’re here.” The ghost gestured to the idyllic spot they had stopped at… it almost felt familiar…

“Huh. Sorry, I was… thinking.”

“It’s alright, so— Fundy. Here, sit down.” Fundy looked at the patch of grass his father had pointed to, the picnic basket having been placed down beside it. “Are you hungry? Now, we both know I’m not a great cook but I… tried my best with the salad.”

Fundy hesitantly looked inside the basket, nightmares of Wilbur’s… less than stellar cooking coming to mind. The salad looked dangerously pink, a multitude of berries mixed into the strange creation. Fundy looked up, the chill of Ghostbur’s eager gaze eventually forced him to take the salad out of the basket. He tries not to jump as Ghostbur claps his hands together, spinning mid-air with an almost manic glee.

“It… looks great, Wil.”

No, it did not look great, but… Ghostbur seemed so happy, and Fundy hasn’t even taken a bite yet. Ghostbur giggled, floating down to sit beside Fundy. “It took me a while to gather everything I needed.”

Fundy looked at down at the pink mess of a salad and shakily took a bite. He tries not to gag at the bitter taste on his tongue. Ghostbur looked so happy and he didn’t want to ruin the poor ghost’s efforts. He sighed, shoveling more of the muck into his mouth. The sooner he finishes eating, then the sooner he can get back home to Eret. Ghostbur hummed beside him, seemingly satisfied as Fundy continued to eat.

“You know…” Ghostbur’s voice broke through the silence. Fundy looked up, shaking his head a bit as the world blearily spun around him. “I… don’t like Eret.”

“Wil… the papers were already signed, okay?” Fundy nearly snarls. He didn’t come here to talk about this. “It doesn’t matter what you— I-I thought you wanted to spend time with me!”

Ghostbur blinked down at him, his mouth agape in surprise. “W-wha— Of course I do! I-I’m just… I-I don’t see why you need another father when I’m right he—

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, Wilbur. It’s been fun, it’s been great. But if this is all you wanted to talk about then I’m leaving.” Fundy sighed. He didn’t know what he expected, but he had heard enough. His head was starting to pound… he turned to stand up, “You know what, Wil—“

He shuddered, falling back onto the ground as the world faded into a blur. He felt weak, his head beginning to ache… was he… was he sick? He shivered, curling into himself as a wave of nausea rolled over him.

“Wha— Wil… What did you—“

“I’m sorry, Fundy.” Ghostbur floated into view, a halo of white around his form as he placed a cold hand on Fundy’s head. “I… I tried! I want you to be happy Fundy but I just... Eret? You want Eret as your dad?”

“W-Wil…”

He felt those ghostly hands gently caress his hair, exhaustion seeping into his veins. “It took me a while to find those foxgloves… Niki almost caught me… b-but you have to understand, Fundy, I’m doing this for you!”

“I—“ Fundy whined, his headache worsening as his vision began to blur. He felt so tired…

“I know it hurts, but I promise it’ll be over soon.” Wilbur let out a small huff, wrapping his arms around Fundy’s shivering form, wishing that he could provide some semblance of comfort. “I’ll be here when you wake up. Just… you must be tired, huh?”

Fundy cried as Ghostbur began to hum a familiar tune.

‘I don’t want this.’

‘I don’t want to die like this.’

‘Why did I trust you, Wilbur?’

Fundy began to weep, Ghostbur’s constricting embrace the last thing he feels as he finally falls into sleep.

.

.

.

.

.

“It all started on a day like any another”

Fundy woke to a bloody red sky.

“All the salmon had swum to the sea”

The sun was setting in the distance.

“When my lover she darted, away from the stream”

Fundy felt the soft grass that tickled against his skin.

“With a heart that she’d taken from me”

The clouds were beginning to drift away.

“And my chest though it ached, there was hope”

Where was he?

“A little beacon of light”

He knew that song. He looked up, a familiar silhouette stood nearby.

“Though my sunniest days were now stolen away”

“D-dad?”

There was a satisfied grin on Wilbur’s face.

“Hello, son.”

“I still had our son by my side.”

~~~~~~~~~~

I am so confused I swear I posted this ;-; (maybe I deleted it idk...)

So yeah this is the second version, hope you guys liked it! Sorry if this is annoying, I’m trying to sort out some stuff on Tumblr cause some of my posts are just *poof* ;-;

Anyway, bye bye.

[zoawrites]

Prompt: a concert. They can meet there, have already planned to go together, by a twist of fate end up there, anything! Lol but at least part of it has to take place at a music concert of any genre

Sorry it took me a little while to get this done! Loved the prompt and I had a lot of fun with it! Thank you! 

Story below the cut! (Rated T)

Also, here’s the AO3 link  

Enjoy!

Zoa ❤️

A Wrong Turn to the Right Place

Ben knew he shouldn’t have listened to the damn GPS. ‘Take a right’, it said. ‘Destination will be on your left’, it insisted.

Wrong.

And that was how Ben landed right in the middle of a fucking rock concert instead of at an isolated cabin in the woods where he could find some peace and quiet to finish his manuscript. Was it rock? There was a stage and guitars and a mosh pit so he assumed it was rock. Then again there was a guy with a banjo and another dude with a cello and the two singers had a country twang so probably not rock.

Was it Indie music? Were they hippies?

Ben didn’t know and didn’t care. He just needed to find someone who had a map of the area so he could find his cabin and get out of this loud, body-filled mess of a field. There was a fleet of food trucks lined up along the edge of the crowd, buzzing with customers.

Surely someone had a map. Ben approached the nearest truck and jumped ahead of the line, getting booed and jeered in the process but he ignored the voices. He wasn’t trying to buy anything.  

“Excuse me!” Ben had to shout to be heard over the music and the people. The man at the window glared at him.

“What’re you doing, man? Back of the line!”

Ben was not dissuaded. “I don't want to buy anything. Do you have a map?”

“If you’re not buying, fuck off! I got real customers!”

“Seriously?” Ben scoffed.

“Get the fuck out!”

Ben flipped him off as he backed away. “Asshole.”

He tried every other truck and a few people in line but no one could - or would - help him. After his final attempt, he stood and scowled at the ongoing concert, hands on his hips. How did he end up here? Fucking GPS… fucking food trucks… fucking loud music… can’t hear a damn thing…  

A tap on his shoulder pulled Ben from his angry contemplations and he turned to tell off the concert-goer with all the pent up rage he was currently nursing only for it to disappear in a puff of smoke.

She was in her early twenties, above average height, chestnut hair cut short so that it framed her face. Which was lovely and covered in adorable freckles to which he could devote a whole chapter of his book. Ben stole a moment to gather his thoughts as he took in her Daisy Duke shorts and black, long-sleeved crop-top that had the word ‘nobody’ emblazoned across the chest in white block letters.

“Excuse me, are you in line?”

“What?” Why was it so fucking loud? They weren’t even that close to the stage. “I can’t hear you!” He pointed at his ears and shook his head helplessly.

The girl - young woman - wrinkled her pert nose but then pointed to the food truck. “Are. You. In. Line?”

“Oh, no…” Ben shook his head. “I need a… help.”

“‘A help’?” She laughed and Ben more than ever wished the music wasn’t so loud so he could hear what he was sure was the clearest, loveliest laugh. Her eyes - green with a touch of gold, like the stalks of tall summer grass waving in the distance - looked him up and down, observing his dark blue henley and light jacket, probably realizing he wasn’t there for the concert.

“I’m lost!” He yelled forlornly. Well, as forlornly as a shout could sound. But she seemed to get the picture. His new friend took pity on him and grabbed his hand, guiding him toward the collection of Port-a-Potties lined up at the edge of the field. There were still plenty of people about, so they weren’t completely alone but the noise pollution was much improved. Although he could have done without the smell.

“You’re lost?” She asked and he heard her accent for the first time. British, soft, warm, like sunlight on a spring day. Ben blinked at her for a second before he nodded.

“Yeah. Lost. My, uh, my GPS told me to come here.”

“Where were you trying to go?”

“A cabin. I rented it. I thought I had the right address,” Ben sent a hand through his hair, ruffling it in exasperation. She seemed to watch the movement with interest. “I wanted…” he looked around and sighed, “I wanted a quiet place to write.”

His companion laughed again and yes, it was definitely as Ben imagined it. Better, in fact. “You’ve definitely come to the wrong place for that!”

“I know,” he managed a crooked smile and she pressed her lips into a tight line, as if repressing one of her own. “I don’t suppose you have a map of the area?”

“I don’t. Don’t you have a mobile? A cell phone you can use?”

“No. I don’t like them.”

“Oh, wow,” she grinned. “I didn’t think any of you actually existed.”

“Any of who?”

“Sasquatch.”

“Ha ha,” Ben rolled his eyes but wasn’t offended, not when her eyes were wrinkled and bright at her own joke. “Very funny.”

“I thought so. Here,” she reached into her shorts’ back pocket and drew out her own phone, “let’s see how far astray you’ve come.”

Turned out, he’d strayed quite a ways off his path. An entire state, in fact. The town his cabin was located at and the one he was currently in shared the same name and, unfortunately, Ben hadn’t double checked when he’d plugged in the address. Just selected the automatic suggestion that popped up on the screen like the idiot he was.

“Well, fuck.”

“I’m sorry.” The girl’s expression was honestly sympathetic.

The crowd behind them cheered as a new song began and Ben glanced mournfully over his shoulder. “Look, I don’t want to keep you. I appreciate your help, but I can manage from here. Go have fun.”

“I can still hear the music. I’m Rey, by the way,” she stuck out her hand and Ben stared at it for a second longer than necessary before he engulfed it with his own giant paw.

“Ben. Ben Solo.”

“Ben.” She said his name slowly, as if savoring how it rolled off her tongue. There was even a minuscule lift to the corner of her mouth, which Ben tried very hard not to stare at. “Solo… You’re a writer? Have I heard of you?”

“No,” he shook his head. When she tilted her head quizzically, he cleared his throat and elucidated. “I’m not published yet. This trip was supposed to be my attempt to finish my manuscript…”

“Not getting to a great start, are you.”

He laughed bitterly. “No, guess not.” Then he heaved a very heavy sigh. “I should get going. I have a long drive ahead of me, apparently.”  

“Why don’t you stay?”

The question came as a surprise and this time he allowed himself to stare at her. “What?”

A charming pink hue lit Rey's cheeks. “The sun’s going down, you see. Probably not a good idea to drive in the dark when you don’t have a map.”

“It wasn’t a good idea in daylight, either,” Ben said wryly and Rey laughed again. “But you’re right,” he added, unable to tear his gaze from her bright eyes. “Probably a good idea to stay. I can find a hotel…”

“You can hang out with my friends and I…”

They spoke at the same time. Her eyes darted away in obvious embarrassment but then peered at him from under lightly-mascaraed lashes. Ben swallowed.

“Really? You don’t even know me.”

Rey tilted her head and gave him a shy smile. “You seem fairly harmless to me. Although, you’re a bit short with food truckers, I’ll admit.”

So she’d seen that. Could his face get any hotter?

“Not my finest hour,” Ben admitted, running a hand through his hair again. Her offer was tempting, and the music wasn’t bad… in fact, Ben could see himself tapping a toe to it. “I won’t be intruding?”

“Of course not!”

Then she suddenly grabbed his hand and hauled him off toward the stage. Rey somehow managed to find all the gaps and passages through the dense collection of people, although, with Ben in tow she didn’t really need to because those passages were being bulldozed anyway. Unfazed by the scowls and middle-fingers flipped at them, Rey tugged him to a spot deep in the crowd where four others were bouncing around to the beat.

A short, dark-haired girl with round cheeks and a contagious smile caught sight of Rey, took one long - very long - look at Ben and smirked.

“That’s not what I meant when I said bring back a snack!” She yelled with a wink, earning an aghast and open-mouthed expression of shock from Rey.

That was Rose Tico’s charming self-introduction. Rey’s other friends, Finn, Jannah, and Kaydel were less free with their thoughts, albeit just as curious. They welcomed him warmly enough. While Ben felt out of place - and knew he was - he couldn’t find it in himself to part from the girl who’d rescued him. So he stood and bobbed his head to the music, enjoying watching the others’ antics and enthusiastic singing along.

Still, it wasn’t exactly his favorite activity, and somehow Rey must have sensed that because sometime later - as the horizon was lit by the pink and purple light of the setting sun - she tugged him back through the crowd and toward grassier areas where there were scattered groups sitting on blankets and lawn chairs.

They sat together in a soft patch of grass and Ben sighed, not trying to hide his relief. “Thanks.”

“I did have an ulterior motive,” she admitted, stretching her toned legs out and crossing them at the ankles.

Ben nodded in encouragement, pretty sure if she wanted to take over the world he’d help her. “What’s that?”

“I want you to tell me about your book.”

“My book?” His brows lifted straight up. “You really want to hear about it?”

She nodded and Ben, right in assuming he had little ability to resist any request she made, launched into a summary of his story: a hard-boiled detective investigating the deep, dirty secrets of a city’s nefarious mobster.

“Is there a love story?”

“There’s a woman,” Ben admitted. “I haven’t decided if he should fall in love with her.”

“I think he should.”

“Thing is, I’m not sure how to write her.”

“Maybe you need a muse.”

Ben lifted his gaze from the grass to focus on her face, on all the little freckles dotting her nose, the strange way the fading light of the sun seemed to worship her cheeks. She was beautiful here and now but he wanted to know how many other ways she was beautiful. How she ate toast in the morning. What her favorite movie was. If she squealed when she saw a bee. Everything. He wanted to know everything about her and write it all down.

“Maybe I already have.”

[bang-to-the-tan]

Stray Cat Strut

Chapter 2

Reader x OT7

► Faerie!AU

Fluff, Comfort

Warnings: Mention of Death, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Faerie Mischevious Bullshit

↳ Summary: When your grandmother passes away, she leaves her countryside house in your name. The longer you stay, the harder and harder it becomes to explain away the odd happenings. What kind of secrets does this sleepy town hold? And why do the local animals act so strangely around you?…

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So maybe you should find a map to the hunting goods store. Or else, find someone to ask about it. Getting lost is one thing, but giving up is entirely out of the question. You can’t just leave the local wildlife to chew through your grandmother’s house. There are old signs posted up at every other road or so that indicate the direction of the local library, and it seems as good a place to start as any.

The town around you is so quiet, so peaceful, you find yourself understanding why granny decided to stay here as you walk. The roads aren’t perfect—some of the side walkways are narrow and made of stone—and some of the buildings look fit to fall apart, but there’s a charm in the air. A kind of comfortableness that you could seriously get used to. Clothes strung up to dry, hanging in the spaces between pastel-colored houses. Gardens overflowing with long grass and sweet flowers waving lazily. Windowsills crawling with ivy. The whole town seems to inhale with the breeze, warming itself in the sunlight.

You’re suddenly struck by familiarity at an intersection on your way to the library and you pause to read the sign, noting the street name. Ah. That’s why you recognize this place. Down this path to the right, through the foliage…it’s where your grandmother was married. For a few seconds, you hesitate, but eventually decide to take a short detour. After all, the library isn’t going anywhere.

The road goes from concrete to cobblestone to dirt beneath your feet as you walk forwards, noting the houses becoming fewer and fewer, the trees overhead becoming denser. The light dapples as it dances across your skin, the dead leaves curling over the edges of the path. It smells fresh, sweet, like green vegetation. You turn a corner past a particularly large tree and can just make out the bridge you’d seen in old photographs all your life. But as you get closer, your heart sinks. The weeds by the pond the tree cranes over are overgrown. The path uncared for. Moss devours the railings and eats away at the wood underneath, making it almost impossible to discern what colors it was once painted. You finally come to rest at the mouth of the bridge, looking over the edge, down at the murky water below forlornly. Even your reflection is hard to see. You turn back, straightening, and start faintly when you notice a figure standing there, just out of the reach of the shade from a nearby willow that bends its head to the water, lent a halo from the rays outlining his form. Somehow you must have missed his approach, but looking at him, you’re not sure how.

 He’s incredibly handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, long-legged. A draft of wind sifts through the sunny sections of soft mocha hair that caress his face, almond-shaped eyes pensive as he watches the pond like someone in mourning. He’s entirely bewitching, even as he blinks slowly and turns to look at you. His lips are plump, the color of rose petals and just as delicately shaped. When he smiles bitterly, your heart breaks.

“Sad, isn’t it?” He says. He gestures around you with a hand, resuming his position leaning against the rail. His head shakes once, as if in disbelief, and he sighs. “I think so, too.”

“I’m sorry, I just…” You can’t think straight. It’s the first time you’ve ever been struck wordless by someone’s beauty. “I’ve seen old photos of this place. When it was taken care of.”

“There’s no one to take care of it,” he replies quickly. “No one left. It was beautiful once.”

“That’s a shame.”

The man nods.

“Does…” You begin, haltingly. “I mean, there’s gotta be someone who still cares? Back home, we had like a community fund..for…”

He shifts to regard you again, lips curling softly.

“For uh. Community projects.” The words are sticking in your throat, your mind fogging. The intensity of the way he listens to you so closely is unnerving. “Like…revivals and stuff.”

“That would be nice.” He replies. “But nobody comes up here anymore. The locals are afraid of it.”

“Afraid?”

“They think it’s haunted.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s not haunted….is it?”

He stares at you, eyes widening. His lips part, as though to speak, but they smooth into a grin instead, creasing his eyes. Suddenly, he bends and starts to laugh. The sound is infectious, high-pitched and breathless, and you find yourself smiling along.

“Depends on your definition of ‘haunted’, I suppose,” he says finally, giggling. He cocks his head.

“My name is Seokjin.”

“Have you lived here long, Seokjin?”

“Just Jin. Please. I’ve lived here for a long while.” Jin’s gaze goes distant. “A very long while. It hurts my heart to see the place falling apart like this. It’s very important to me.”

 Your teeth worry the inside of your lip in the pause that follows, unsure whether you should say what you’re thinking. You can’t spend too much longer here—you still have to make it to the library and then back home before it gets dark.

“I’m new here, and I’m going someplace at the moment,” you explain, inwardly hoping he’s not secretly a murderer. “But my grandmother got married at this pond. She passed away not too long ago and I’m trying to clean her house out for now. It would mean a lot to me to see the pond clean, too--before I leave. If there was anything I could do to help…” You trail off, embarrassed.

The man watches you carefully, a smile pulling at his lips. As gentle as his voice is, as sweet his eyes, his stature doesn’t escape you. He looks strong.

“I-I, uh,” you begin again, the click in your head nearly audible, “I actually need help with the shed.”

“The shed?” he echoes.

“Yeah, there’s like, heavy stuff in it. I don’t think I can move it on my own. You know, you help me, I help you…? If that’s okay. I understand if not.”

Jin straightens.

“Let’s make a deal,” he says, eyes alight. “I will help you clean your grandmother’s shed if you’ll help me clean the pond. Our deal will be fulfilled when both tasks are done. Sound good?”

“Sounds good…yeah! Sounds good.” You nod.

“Deal?”

“Deal.”

He makes a tsk noise through his teeth, leaning back and curling his hands around the rail in front of him. For a second, you’re afraid you might have bartered with the wrong person, but he looks pleasantly, warmly pleased at your offer.

“Can we start tomorrow?” he asks, voice soft as silk. “Just meet me here?”

“I can do that.” Not like you’ve got somewhere else to go.

“Good. I’m so glad.” The young man in front of you looks like you’ve just added ten years to his lifespan, practically glowing as he grins with perfect teeth. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jin,” you reply. You turn away and make your way back to the main road. While you slowly return to civilization, your thoughts steadily turn inwards and you realize what you’ve just done. Who are you, making deals with strangers in strange towns?? The only excuse you can offer yourself is that he was so incredibly beautiful. And so sad. He seemed nice enough, though. Legitimately interested in cleaning the pond, if nothing else. You chastise yourself the whole way down to the library. Day two in this town and you probably just agreed to be murdered out in the middle of nowhere because you saw a pretty man. Shameful.

It’s impossible to deny that you want to see him again, though. And cleaning the place where she got married would have meant a lot to your grandmother, if she was here still. If she was watching. She won’t let you get murdered. You hope.

 As you turn the corner, past the intersection you originally turned down, the library rises from the horizon. It’s more welcoming than threatening even with its grand height, old stonework mixed with newer additions to keep the building stable and crawling with picturesque ivy. Absently, you slide your hand over the chipped mane of the stone lion that protects the entrance as you climb the stairs and step inside. It’s cool here, and designed with a touch that seems to meld modern and antique styles seamlessly. It smells like old books and wood polish—old, but well taken care of. Towards the back, twin staircases spiral, reaching for a circular window that casts an impressive amount of patterned light over the upper level. You have to resist the urge to take photos like some gawking tourist, and instead head for the section marked ‘Local’. There doesn’t seem to be anyone else around, the tall room silent as the grave. If anything, the quiet only helps you focus on the task at hand, browsing with a gentle hand through tour guides and maps of the surrounding areas.

There’s no staff, no music, nothing but you.

You’re too easily distracted by your thoughts and you end up getting frustrated by the sheer amount of maps. Comparing them against the version you have on your phone, there are always missing streets or roads that lead to nowhere—sections marked on the maps as incredibly important sightseeing destinations that aren’t even on the electronic version. Finally, you peel away from the local section, holding onto the one map you could find that seemed remotely useful, if still missing a few pieces of information. Just to the right of the doors is a wooden desk and ontop of it, a bell. You stride over and strike it, the peal ringing out clearly against the tall ceiling. At this point, you’re just hoping to catch a glimpse of literally any kind of living soul inside this building.

 “You’re back.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the deep voice that instantly sounds from behind you.

When you turn around, you meet deep brown eyes set into a handsome face whose mild expression is difficult to read. A young man stands only about a foot away from you, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere with the absolute silence of his approach. Did you somehow miss him on your way in…? Hair dyed a lavender color, pushed back from his forehead, thick-framed glasses, comfortable-looking sweater—if there was ever a look that screamed ‘librarian’ any louder, you’d be hard-pressed to find it.

“I’m…what?”

He watches you past his glasses for a moment before his soft lips pull into a wry smile and his shoulders drop. “Sorry. I-I know it’s probably been a while. I…know your, um, your grandmother,” He gestures, awkwardly. “The house on the hill, right?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. That’s her,” you finally manage to reply. Damn it, he’s incredibly handsome, too. Should you hand him your credit card now or should you wait until you lose all of your good sense? “Yeah, um. She…y’know, she passed away, so I’m cleaning her house out.”

He blinks, his face falling.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. That must be…hard for you,” he mumbles, but there’s something new in his expression. Was he close to her…? The ensuing silence between you is mortally uncomfortable.

 “I-I’m looking for a map,” you stammer, holding up your hand. “Y’know, a recent one.”

“…You seem to have found one.” He points out, raising an eyebrow at the paper grasped in your fingers. “Anything more specific?”

“I need hunting goods. My phone says there’s a store just on the other side of the house, but when I tried to cut through the woods, I got lost.”

The man nods, slowly, thoughtfully. He looks to you and there’s a second of silence between you as you subtly try to figure out what exact shade of brown his soft eyes are. Flush travels up your cheeks as you’re struck with the realization that he’s waiting for you to elaborate. Humour suddenly flashes across his face, breaking the quiet, and he laughs sharply, leaning forwards.

“Directions for a hunting store?” he reiterates through a chuckle. “Kind of a weird first request. The map you’ve got there is the most recent we have. Just follow the main road through the forest.” He pauses. “What do you need it for, anyways?”

“There’s something chewing holes in my grandmother’s house.”

“Ah,” his eyebrows slide upwards, legitimately shocked. He waits, seemingly unsure if you’re serious, before continuing. “And you’re thinking…animals…?”

“Yeah. I already tried to set out a trap but it broke. Something put rocks in it.”

He hums. His head cocks to the side and he tsks through his teeth, pursing his lips and studying the ground as he crosses his arms. “An animal didn’t put rocks in it. I’m surprised you don’t know better.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you say ‘chewing holes’,” he asks instead of answering, “What exactly do you mean?”

“There’s a hole in the porch. It was filled with candy when I moved in.”

“And you…?”

You frown. “I…” you repeat slowly. “Took the candy out and filled the hole? I mean, not very well, but—“

“Mm. Yeah, that’ll do it. You need to put the sweets back.”

It’s your turn to wait, for him to admit to joking. He only looks to you and blinks slowly, patiently. There’s another heavy pause. As you stare at him, his shoulders rise in a shrug.

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not.”

“You want me to encourage animals boring into the house my dead grandmother lived in?” Your voice escalates as your brows crease, searching his visage for any sign of giving.

“It’s not an animal.”

“Oh my god.” Despair begins sinking in. Your mind swims with the thought of malicious children. “It’s kids. I can’t set traps. Oh, god, what if I accidentally hurt one?...”

He barks another laugh, his eyes scrunching, shoulders shaking.

“What??”

“It’s not children, either,” he says, still giggling.

Your frown only deepens. Is he making fun of you? “I don’t get it. What exactly are you suggesting?”

 His laughter subsides into a short chuckle. When his eyes meet yours again, there’s a strange light in them. “You don’t remember much, do you?”

You pull back, somewhat offended. “I was like five the last time I was here?”

He chuckles and pushes his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose with a dramatic air of a teacher getting ready for his least favorite class. “Okay. Alright. From the top, then. Have you heard of faeries?”

“Like fairy tales? Of course I’ve heard of them.”

“Almost. Okay, so most old towns have their own superstitions, right? We have our own kind of faerie. They’re called Keprys. And that’s what you’re dealing with.”

You stare at him incredulously, but he doesn’t look like he’s kidding. “You can’t be serious.”

“I can,” he retorts. “I bet there was something in the house that was really well taken-care of when you got here. Floors swept, cabinets dusted, something like that?”

You think of the dust-covered rooms. “No, not really.”

“Look for it. Whatever it is won’t be done now. Put the candy back, it’ll start up again. Your grandmother had an accord with a Kepry—sweets in exchange for some chore she couldn’t do or didn’t want to do.” He leans against the bookshelf and raises an eyebrow at you. “When you took the candy, you disrupted the agreement. When you put out the trap, you insulted him.”

“Him?”

He ignores you.

“If you leave it alone, or worse, get another trap, it’ll only go downhill from there. He’ll trash the house. If he’s in a good mood.”

Your eyes narrow, your lips pursing. “If this is some kind of local hazing, I’m not into it. I’m not convinced I’m staying, anyways; you’re wasting your time trying to spook me.”

“I swear, I’m being totally legitimate.” He raises his hands, palms facing outwards. “Put the candy back.”

You hesitate, watching him doubtfully. “Okay, smart guy. We’re in a library, so…show me a source. Where’s your books on capris?”

“Kepry.” He clarifies with a slow intonation. “K-e-p-r-y. There’s only one source.”

“If you say it’s you—“

“—But it’s already checked out.”

“Uh-huh.”

“To me.”

“To you??”

The man’s eyes flash and his grin returns.

“Tell you what,” He straightens. “I’ll loan you the book. But only if you bring me something of value.”

“I don’t have anything with me.”

He shrugs, pouting mockingly. Without a proper reply, he turns around and starts walking away.

“Why don’t you just give me the book? Isn’t this a library? You’re the librarian—it’s your job, isn’t it??” You call after him, incredulous at his sudden lack of manners.

“I answered your question and gave you free advice.” He spins smartly on his heel to disappear behind a bookcase across the way from you. “You’re in my debt, granddaughter of the lady on the hill.” His voice seems to echo after you from every direction. Strange, you wouldn’t consider the library as that acoustic-capable, at least not from where he was standing.

You huff, and go to follow him. “What do you mean debt—“ You pull up short as you round the corner.

He’s not there. There’s no sign of him behind the books. No sound of him anywhere.

“Hey!” You call out. No answer. The library has returned to its stifling silence. If he thinks you’re gonna waste a second playing hide and seek with him, he’s dead wrong. You stomp your foot and turn on a dime to leave, grumbling about librarians and faeries. ‘Keprys’. He had to have been kidding. Faeries aren’t real. Briefly, you think about the bird from the forest but easily shake it out of your head. You were panicking, lost in a foreign town and scared. Jet-lagged still, probably.

A car passes by the outside of the library as you exit and you’re actually surprised enough by its presence to stop and watch it go. It’s only about the second or third car you’ve seen since coming here. It’s going so slowly—the cobbles must be making the driver unsteady. You move to step behind it, your attention already drifting elsewhere, back to the house and the predicament of animals/not animals boring holes into it. Maybe you have some cash you can give him for the book on faeries anyways. Just for curiosity’s sake.

You’re almost home as you’re lost in thought trying to mentally count up how much money you have to give the librarian for the book. You can see the house now, up on its little hill, with the sparse cottages and small streets that surround it. It’s only just now starting to get late, and the threatening sunset casts a warm blush over everything, turns the shadows into a comfortable purple.

Across the street, not too far from where you are, your attention is claimed by a tiny dog. It’s a fluffy little thing, looking like a ball of soot with legs, black and brown all over. The fading sunlight catches its fur and lights embers in its outline, like a spotlight. You have to stifle a giggle at how business-like it seems, trotting along with such delicate little paws. It turns to survey its surroundings and you could mark the moment when it spots you, pausing with its fluff of a tail pointed skywards midway through a wag. Suddenly, it breaks into a run towards you. Head thrown back in excitement, yipping all the way. You start, but it means you no harm as it runs straight up to your legs and yaps loudly, dancing around your feet so intensely that its whole body actually leaves the ground for seconds at a time.

“Hello, hello!” You greet, delighted if a little surprised. It presses its head against your hand when you lean to pet it, barking and yipping. You oblige, running your fingers through incredibly soft fur, and its whole body stills. Its watery eyes blink slowly, as if savoring the touch. “Who do you belong to?”

It yips and bounces again, spinning in a tight circle, and you can’t help but laugh at the pure joy in the motion. You pet it a few more times, giggling at how eager it seems for affection. “Nobody ever loves you, huh?” You coo. “Poor baby.” After a while, you straighten, and it immediately starts barking again, rising in volume as you move to walk towards the house.

“I have to go home!” You chastise, reaching to stroke it again, but its pitiful noises only get louder. “I’ll see you later, puppy. I promise.”

It follows you up the hill, whimpering pathetically as you unlock the gate and walk inside. You look over your shoulder at it and it cries.

“Go home,” you encourage. “I’ll see you later.”

It sits down in front of the gate, looking at you with such a forlorn expression your heart breaks. You hope its okay, but it seems healthy enough; shiny eyes and coat, well-groomed. Eventually, it’ll go home, surely.

You turn back to the house, the garden catching your eye as you go. Looks like it needs some watering—maybe a little weeding here and there. Why haven’t you noticed since you’ve been here? Oh well. You guess there’s been other things more pressing in your mind. Like getting lost and meeting beautiful men. And the stray cat, can’t forget that. Oh, yeah. The sticks. Your hand flies up to the bag around your neck, rubbing at the remaining stick with a shocked realization. You forgot to look up what kind of wood it was. Maybe you’ll remember tomorrow? You can always ask the mysterious librarian or the man by the pond. He might know a thing or two about local plants. Better ask nice, forthcoming Jin about something like that instead of stingy, disappearing librarian man.

Oh.

You blink.

You never actually caught his name.

Your nose wrinkles as you frown, unlocking the front door and stepping inside. He’d probably charge you for that, too.

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[vannahfanfics]

You could write a oneshot of Natsu and Lucy first kiss? And Sanji and Nami, if it's okay \o/ arigato, Roxas-san

Here you go, Anon! The link to your NaLu story is here. For the SanNami request, I was struggling a little and so I chose to link it to this story, so I hope you don’t mind! 

Some Sound Advice Part II

“That’s it! Once we save Vivi’s country, I’m gonna tell Nami how I really feel! For real, no holding back!”

Sanji had proudly proclaimed that, and yet here he was, two days after the conclusion of the Albastan civil war/Baroque Works fiasco and still as deep in the friendzone as ever. He had tried to tell himself that Ace leaving wouldn’t deter him from following through on his promise to finally confess his feelings to their smart, savvy, sexy navigator; however, every time he thought about approaching the girl, he stomach would twist up tight into pretzel knots. Whenever he did finally work up the courage to confess, Nami was surrounded by everybody and their mother, and there was no way in hell that she would take him seriously at all in that kind of setting. Groaning at his own indecision, he ran a hand over his scratched-up, bandaged face and gazed forlornly up at the stone ceiling of the castle room above. It was nighttime, and the moonlight filtering in through the curtained window did little to illuminate the dark hue of the hewn rock. A perfectly gloomy setting for a perfectly gloomy man.

I can’t sleep like this, he thought indignantly. Slowly, muscles keening in protest, he pushed himself from the bed up into a sitting position. His body hadn’t throbbed and ached like this since he had been caught in the avalanche on Drum Island and fractured his spine. He carefully turned his body this way and that and stretched his arms slightly above his head in an effort to alleviate some of the tautness in his muscle fibers, but it only dimmed the pain down to a moderate level. Annoying, but he would survive. He tossed the cotton sheets from his body and turned on the bed to hop down, feet slipping into some very comfy slippers that Vivi’s staff had provided him. Dressed in only a pair of loose plaid-patterned pajama pants and a muscle tee, the insomnious, lovesick cook took to wandering the castle halls like a ghost chained to the physical plane by his lingering regrets.

Moonlight streamed in through the tall, skinny glass-paned windows, turning the crimson red of the hallway carpet to something reminiscent of coral. The gray stones around them, unlike those in Sanji’s room though they were the same material, soaked up the white rays to glow a soft bright timber. This castle was just intent on making him depressed, apparently. He should’ve brought his cigarettes, but he had already turned the corner to head towards the grand staircase, so there wasn’t much point in that. The red carpet washed over the ornate, mahogany-lined stairwell like a cherry-red waterfall, ending in a semicircular puddle at the base. The castle’s entryway was lonely and empty, save for a pair of vigilant guards stationed at either side of the massive castle door. Sanji’s eyebrow quirked as he noticed the sliver of white light slicing through the center of the looming wood; the door was cracked. His slippers slapped sloppily against the plush carpet as he tottered down the stairs and approached the guards.

“Is someone outside?”

“Oh, another one of the Straw Hats. The redhead girl- your navigator, I believe- asked to step out for a breath of fresh air in the courtyard garden, so we kept the door open so we could keep an eye on her. There are still plenty of bitter citizens and Baroque Works goons lingering around, so we would hate for something to happen to her,” the guard to his left reported. Sanji dipped his head respectfully to him in thanks before slipping through the small gap in the door to walk outside. His heart rate had jumped into an exponential upward slope; was this the chance he had been so desperately waiting for?Already, the cowardice was beginning to leak into his veins, rapidly washing away the adrenaline. He clenched the fabric of his tee into his fingers with gritted teeth. No way you’re backing down this time, Sanji. Do it!

The desert night was a beautiful one. The air was cool but not overbearingly so, a comfortable temperature range supplemented by a refreshingly chill breeze. The night sky was unobstructed by clouds, not even one small, puffy wisp, allowing the full brilliance of the Milky Way to emblazon the dark sky like diamonds studded into black velvet. The moon was shining with such intensity that it was ringed with luminescence, and she poured all her force into bathing the world below her with glowing white water. The castle garden was brilliantly illuminated; the white stones of the walkway and balustrades shone like they were constructed of moonstone itself. The green of the grass blades and bush and tree leaves took on a dark emerald sheen, their waxy surfaces reflecting the light just like smooth gems of jade would. The flowers were all painted pastel, white and blue and yellow and pink all transformed by the moonlight’s touch. It was not this sentimental sight that stole Sanji’s breath from his lungs, however.

There she was, seated on the stone of a rounded flowerbed, back to him and face upturned to the stars above. Her tangerine hair blazed atop her head in a tiny messy bun that resembled a candle’s flickering flame to his eyes. Her tanned skin looked like coffee with cream in the moonlight. The simple yellow nightgown that snugly hugged her body in its bodice to only flare out in draping waves over her legs made her seem like a contemplative goddess or angel in his undeserving mortal eyes. Seeing her, so ethereal and otherworldly, sent that jolting spark of fear through his body once more. He gulped loudly, shuffling back against the entryway to retreat back into the castle.

Some deity was looking out for him that night, because Nami heard him, and glanced over her shoulder to stare at him with those brown eyes that made Sanji nearly melt into a puddle every single time they were cast onto him.

“Sanji?” she blinked, and then her curious expression relaxed into one of sympathetic understanding. “Can’t sleep either, huh?”

“Aha, yeah, no,” he laughed nervously while rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. When he looked back to her, she was lightly patting the stone block beside her invitingly. Sanji’s back stiffened like a steel rod as his heart bounded into his throat, but his feet knew how to function well enough, because they carried him over to her. With all the grace of a golem clumsily carved of iron, he eased himself onto the stone beside her. His fingers twitched excessively against the meat of his thighs in his body’s effort to dissipate the insane amount of nervous energy flooding his system and preventing essential functions, like blinking and breathing.

“Did you have a nightmare or something? You look tense,” Nami asked worriedly. He was about to refute the statement but she leaned over to peer into his face, and whatever reply he was going to utter dried up along with the rest of his mouth. He only opened and closed his mouth stupidly at her, the desert heat of his mouth rising across his cheeks in the form of a dust-cloud blush.

“Er… No… I just tweaked one of my wounds, is all, and I’m just waiting for it to settle down,” he lied lamely. Nami blinked those pretty eyes of hers, then shrugged and turned back to her stargazing. He breathed an uneven sigh and cursed himself at his pitiful performance. He was the smoothest lady-killer on the Grand Line, for crying out loud; he was capable of acting like the most suave knight under pressure, and here he was bungling it like a tween on his first date. He swept a hair through his tousled blonde likes, streaking it with a thin shimmer of sweat. Come on, Sanji, get yourself together. You’ve gotten father than all your previous attempts, he reminded himself. It actually did boost his confidence slightly. “Actually, Nami-swan,” he began uncertainly, then compulsively cleared his throat. “Th-there’s something that’s been on my mind.”

“What is it?” She looked back at him with a radiantly sweet smile that made his heart clench inside his chest. “You can tell me!” She was so perfectly innocent that Sanji almost felt as if he were about to taint her with his pending admission. He inhaled sharply through his nose and closed his eyes as he breathed out, steeling his jittery nerves. Regardless of how it ended, he had made a vow to confess to her, and he wasn’t the type of man to quail on his word. He opened his eyes to stare fixedly at her.

“Nami… I love you.”

The words hung in the air like they were suspended on strings, weighty yet unmoving. Nami’s expression was alarmingly blank. Unblinking brown eyes fixated on his own, shaking in their sockets as the tension mounted in his body waiting for her response. His stream of consciousness began to fly like a runaway train, wondering if he had made the wrong decision and their friendship would be ruined or even if she would slap him silly. Finally, after what seemed like ten life ages, she released a tremulous breath.

“You… Really mean that, don’t you?” Before he could answer, she cupped a hand to her mouth and looked down at her feet, eyes searching the stone desperately for her next words. Sanji swallowed anxiously; he hadn’t been sure what he had been expecting, but this was not what he had been hoping for. He immediately moved to get up.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Of course you wouldn’t-“

“No!” she demanded, head whipping around. She grabbed his bicep with both her hands to yank him so hard she could’ve jerked his shoulder out of socket, and he stumbled gracelessly back against the stone. Confused sputters of her name fell from his mouth, but before he could get the chance to arrange a coherent sentence, Nami grabbed his face roughly to wrench him into a heated, sloppy open-mouthed kiss. It took his already frazzled brain a moment to process the chain of events, but when he did, the shade of his face matched the crimson rugs of the palace behind them. When she pulled back, their lips separated with a slight pop with how tightly they had been pressed together. Sanji’s shoulders slouched loosely to mirror the complete slack of his jaw as he gawked stupidly at her. “A-ahem,” she cough uneasily as she wiped her lips with her wrist, “There’s your answer.”

Sanji wasn’t sure what he wanted to do- cry tears of joy, do a happy dance, run off and tell Zoro that he had won that stupid bet ages ago that he was gonna win Nami’s heart; there were so many possibilities his brain was unable to choose, and so he just continued to sit there with that rosy blush and absolutely moronic smile on his face. “Sanji? Oh, God, did I kill all the neurons you had left?”

“I’m okay!” With a dog-like shake of his entire body, he was finally able to right the sparking electrical pathways in his brain into working order, and his hands flew up to grasp one of hers endearingly. “I’m so relieved, Nami-swan!” he said as he heaved a sigh to dislodge the last of the lingering weight that had been burdening his shoulders for days. Nami gave him a slightly amused, crooked smile as she snorted in laughter. She was so cute it sent his heart into dangerously fast palpitations. “Em, Nami?”

“Yes?”

“Can we do that again? I really don’t want our first kiss to be me just being a dumbass…” Nami laughed airily at his request, then gave him a smile that rivaled the shining move above, her eyes scrunched up in unbridled affection and joy. That was invitation enough, so with a pleased smirk, he leaned forward to claim her lips in a sweet, chaste, passionate kiss that he was going to engrave in his memory for the rest of time…

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to perusemy Tableof Contents!

Tag List: @searchfortheonepiece

[rpsquad]

115, 187, 189, 190 - “We need to leave. Now.”, “Nobody’s seen you in days.”, “I’m worried about you.”, “Can you shut up for once in your life?” - Christopher + Elam

January - 

Elam watched his sister skid around on the ice, laughing gleefully. The snowflakes danced around them. Even he had to admit that the world seemed a bit brighter today. Or perhaps that was the smile on Sofie's face.

Elam turned as the grass crunched behind him. He looked up to see a boy about his age with brown hair and blue eyes standing over him. Elam recognized him as a boy living a few houses down, but he’d almost never seen him playing in the street with everyone else. He smiled up at him as two younger children ran past.

The boy sat down a few feet away, watching his younger siblings with a bored stare. His shoulders were hunched in and he sat with his knees to his chest. The boy visibly shook from the cold, but he looked like he was trying to not show it. Elam shuffled closer

“Hello,” he said, reaching a hand out like he’d seen the adults do “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Elam.” The boy reducatly reached out a hand and shook Elam’s. His nose scrunched up “Mine’s Christopher.” 

Christopher looked away, almost seeming shy “I suppose I don’t go out as much.” Christopher nodded to the others skating on the lake “Just don’t like playing around as much as them. Besides, it’s too cold this time of year.”

Elam wrapped an arm around Christopher’s shoulders. Christopher startled under his arm for a sec before leaning into Elam. He gave a half-hearted shrug “It’s not the worst. And they enjoy it at least.”

Christopher smiled “There is that.”

June -

Elam grinned at Christopher through the doorway “C'mon Chris. It’ll be fun.” Chistopher swatted at Elam “See, you’re a natural. Just do that as the other kids run away and down let yourself get hit.” Christopher seemed to settle on glaring Elam out of existence. Elam grabbed Christopher by the arm and pulled “Besides, I already got permission from your mum. So you’ve got no real reason not to. The sun’s shining, the wind’s nice, no responsibilities…”

Christopher scowled “Can you shut up for once in your life? I don’t-” Christopher stuttered as Elam looked at him with the biggest, saddest eyes he could manage. “I don’t have time for this…” he looked away, his frown lessening “But suppose if you went to the trouble to get permission from my mother…” he sighed “Fine, I’ll play with you.”

Elam grinned and pulled Christopher out into the street, already running “Hey-”

Christopher was wearing a scowl before he even opened the door fully “Elam, what is it?”

Elam gasped over dramatically “Christopher, you’re alright! Nobody’s seen you in days, we were all so worried!”

Christopher looked at Elam as if his soul had been sucked out of him “It was two days ago Elam. Remember, we all played together?”

Elam pouted “Exactly, a whole two days. And I’ve hardly even seen you since then, I miss you.” He looked at Christopher with eyes resembling those Bo gave him when begging for scraps.

“No,” Christopher closed his eyes “I have things to do.”

“Please?” Elam begged

“No.”

“Double please?”

“No.”

“Triple please?”

“No.”

Quadruple please?”

“N- ugh.” Christopher rolled his eyes and his body sagged “Fine, but this is the last time this week.” He turned around quickly “Oi! Mum..”

Christopher peered up at the sky with a small frown “I’m making a new rule: I’ll play outside twice a week. You’re sure you want to use it today?”

Elam just grinned “Positive. It matches you.”

Christopher scowled “Hey-”

Elam knocked on the door with his left hand, since his right was carefully holding the flowers. He heard rushed footsteps from behind it 

“Just a-” Christopher opened the door, looking slightly frantic “Elam, hello. Is it alright if Lucy and Luke come along today? Mum won’t stop badgering me about it..”

“Well, I suppose they can?” Elam’s shoulder dropped slightly “It’s just, I wanted to do something else today. My father showed me this beautiful field and-”

Christopher’s eyes lit up “That sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.” He rushed forward, pulling Elam along with him “Come on, if we hurry they won’t notice we left without them.”

October - 

All Elam could think anymore was that if one more person told how brave his father had been, he might scream.

Elam’s father had been stupid, not brave. Who calls a man brave for dying defending his flock from a wolf? It had been one half starved wolf, not a pack. Elam had seen the body of the thing, it was practically skin and bones.

So no, his father was not brave, he was stupid. And now Elam was left with a grieving mother, two younger sisters, and flock of sheep to take care of at thirteen years old.

“Elam?” An uncharacteristically nervous voice cut through the fog “You haven’t been out in a few days, which is fine and I understand why, but I miss you and… I’m worried about you.” Elam looked up to see Christopher shuffling from foot to foot “Your, uh- your mom let me in.”

Elam nodded and scooted over on the bed to make room for Christopher “So, um... “ Christopher sat down. He looked very out of place, despite having been here before “I said I miss you, but more accurately everyone misses you Elam. Everyone’s really worried too, especially because everyone says you haven’t been, um…” Christopher glanced at Elam’s mouth, which only grimaced in response. “Right…”

“Well, I-” Christopher began. He looked like he was struggling “I’m sorry your dad died. I know you’ve probably heard it a lot already but I mean it. And I, uh. I wish it hadn’t happened, because it isn’t fair to you or the rest of your family. And it was stupid and unlucky and… yeah.” Christopher shrugged “So I’m sorry.”

Elam watched his friend with a sad smile. He scooted closer to him and wrapped his arms around Christopher awkwardly. Christopher startled under his touch but hugged Elam back. Elam buried his head in Christopher’s shoulder, feeling the start of a sob rise up in his chest.

“I’m sorry..” Christopher whispered again, running his hand up and down Elam’s back.

“Thank you.” Elam whispered back.

March -

Elam watched as the rain pounded on the glass with dull boredom. Christopher sniffled softly as he also looked out the window, his mind clearly somewhere else. Elam looked at his warily; Christopher had been sick with the flu just a few days ago.

“I wish it wouldn’t rain.” Christopher said, breaking the silence. Elam hummed “I understand why, that plants need water and without plants we’d all starve, but the rain just seems so sad and cold.” Christopher looked to Elam for a moment before continuing “I miss the sun because of that. The sunshine is warm and nice, and plants need it just much as they need water.” Elam looked down, knocking his feet together “And I worry about the plants, because with too much water they drown and die. I just-” Elam looked over at Christopher. His hands were fisted in his lap and his big blue eyes looked straight into Elam’s own “I can’t stand it Elam, you don’t have to act like nothing happened, like you are the sun and everything is fine, but I can’t watch drown!”

Elam blinked in surprise. He reached out and grabbed Christopher’s arm, pulling him forward into a hug “I’m sorry for worrying you.” he said quietly

Christopher’s arms came up and wrapped around Elam “I don’t blame you. I just want you to feel better. I miss hanging out and down fun things.”

Elam smiled into Christopher’s shoulder “You mean watching the rain fall isn’t fun?”

Christopher giggled “Elam, I love hanging out with you, but the rain really is just cold and miserable stuff.”

May -

“Baa!”

Christopher wrinkled his nose “Really, we just have to.. Just watch them all day?” he scoffed “But they don’t even do anything!” Christopher flopped back onto the grass.

Elam scoffed “We herd them back with Bo too.” Bo, hearing his name, woofed in agreement. Elam smiled and sat down next to Christopher “You don’t have to come with me.”

Christopher sighed forlornly “Well, I suppose not. But then you’ll be out here all day by yourself, and Avon knows you don’t need more time to just think” Elam shrugged and smiled “Besides, I’m getting a little old to play in the square now. Father says I should pick someone in town to apprentice under, since I’m useless at chopping wood.”

Elam frowned slightly, but nodded “He’s right.”

Christopher punched him lightly on the arm “Shut up. Not everyone can be all muscled like you.” he pressed his knuckles to Elam’s upper arm “It’s like you’re a rock…” he said softly.

Elam swatted his hand away, feeling odd “Whatever, Christopher.”

Christopher grumbled under his breath and looked up at the perfect sky, the light catching his eyes and turning them the color of flowing water, full of movement and life and so so blue.

Elam shook his head and looked up. It really was a perfect day.

April -

Elam stared at Christopher incredulously as he sat on the dewy grass and shook like a leaf in the wind “Christopher, what are you doing?”

Christopher shrugged. He pointed up at the one half dead tree above him “It looks like it might start raining soon. I’m taking cover.”

Elam just stared at Christopher, who was supposed to be smarter than this, before walking over to him and pulling him to his feet “This tree is half dead. And the grass is still wet, Christopher.” When Christopher just shrugged sheepishly in response, muttering something about not wanting to be any colder, Elam sighed and pulled him into a one armed hug. Elam rubbed his hand up and down Christopher’s arm, trying to make him warmer. Christopher leaned into Elam’s embrace, ready to take warmth from wherever it is being offered.

Christopher leaned into Elam a little more, causing him to fall backwards onto the grass with an ‘omf’. Christopher laughed, smiling down at Elam from where he had landed on Elam’s chest. Elam just sighed, pulling Christopher to him just a little more. 

Christopher looked so happy like this, so full of life. It made Elam want to bundle him up and keep him forever, want to make him laugh all the time. It made him want to pull Christopher close so he was warm and then pull him even closer and-

Elam’s thoughts stuttered to a stop as he realized what he wanted. He wanted to kiss Christopher. He wanted Christopher to let Elam love him. Elam sat up quickly, knocking Christopher down in the process. 

Christopher looked at him with a betrayed look in his eyes for a second before a raindrop landed on the tip of his nose. He scowled and sat up “We need to leave. Now.” looking completely serious and even more fed up with the weather.

Elam shrugged “Can’t. Have to watch the sheep.” 

Christoper whined in response “But it’s raining Elam! You don’t want me to get a cold, do you?” he paused “Or the sheep! Really, it’d be best for the flock if we all head back now.”

Elam scoffed “They’ll be fine. It was one raindrop.” he looked up at the cloud covered sky “If you want to leave you may.”

Christopher pulled his knees up to his chest, clearly pouting while try to not be too obvious about it “Fine. If I get a cold because of this, I’m blaming you.”

Elam smiled placadingly “Whatever you say, Christopher.”

[delkios]

The Whole Earth Opening Wide (DC TV)

Title from A View to a Kill by Duran Duran. Descriptions inspired by my own drives through Kansas and to the summit of Mt. Evans. Title: The Whole Earth Opening Wide Fandom: DC TV Rating: G Word Count: 2314 In Responds to: ColdWave Weekend 2018: Fun in the Sun Characters: Len, Mick Summary: After the death of Len's grandfather, Mick takes them on an impromptu roadtrip. Len's grandfather died a couple months before he turned seventeen. It was from some complication or other brought on by the inability to afford proper medication. Mick didn't really know, too busy trying to keep Len from slipping into panic attacks as the last buffer between Lewis and his children finally slipped away. Not that Mick was in a much better mental space given it had been less than a year since he killed his own family. But Len scrimped and saved and ran risk after risk, trying to get enough money to send Lisa to two different camps that would keep her away from Lewis through almost the entirety of the summer and Mick helped out to the best of his ability. He went with Len to drop Lisa off for her first camp, three weeks of figure skating training with the second starting two weeks after that. Lisa hugged Len tight, obviously afraid of leaving him with their father for so long by himself. Mick wasn't insulted by it; he couldn't intervene the way their grandfather had and Len wanted Mick to stay away from Lewis as much as possible. Probably because he knew Mick had no qualms killing the man if he ever had the chance. But Lisa was bundled away onto a bus with all the other hopeful skaters and Len watched it disappear forlornly down the street. Then Mick swung a duffel bag into Len's midsection, jolting him out of his sulk. "C'mon," he said. "Let's go."

Len took the bag by reflex. "Where?" "Hell if I know." Westward was basically the extent of Mick's planning. He drove them out of Central, through Keystone and just kept going. The sun was bright and sky speckled with clouds and it was still early enough that the wind was still cool so they drove with the windows down. They stopped at a fast food place off the side of the highway for lunch, stretching their legs out for a bit, then drove off again. Len stayed silent almost the entire time, barely responding to Mick's words and just staring aimlessly out the window. Mick tried filling the silence with the radio but all he could get with any consistency was country music and talk stations. Having had to grow up listening to both, he had no interest in doing so ever again. The highway was straight and flat and in the afternoon with no shade, the air heated up quickly around them. Mick turned on the air conditioning- his father had always been stingy with it given how much gas it used, but he wasn't driving anymore. Mick called those kinds of shots now. He'd never driven out this far before and it was kind of difficult not letting his attention wander. There was nothing to look at but farmland after farmland, the occasional speeding vehicle and billboards advertising either food or salvation. By the time they stopped for gas, Mick felt like screaming. It felt like this hellhole was doing its best to keep him from leaving, just making him drive one monotonous mile after another until he was half convinced they'd already driven that same stretch of land before. As Mick dug cash out of one of the wallets Len had pocketed during their lunch stop, Len asked, "Do you want me to drive for a while?" Len hated driving. He was also a shitty driver but he couldn't stand driving and Mick couldn't imagine what he looked like to have Len offering. "Nah. Just get me a bunch of candy for the road. I'll need the pick-me-up." Mick paid for gas, two bags of chips and a huge slushie. Len was already inside the car while Mick filled up. After they'd driven a few miles away from the gas station, Len started pulling out handfuls of candy packages. He opened up a bag of Skittles and passed it over to Mick. Then he opened up the glove compartment, pulling case after case of cassette tapes from his pockets and stuffing them inside. Wordlessly he picked one from the stash and pushed it into the tape deck. After a couple seconds, synthpop filled the car and Mick eventually recognized it as Duran Duran's Rio. "Are you fucking kidding me with this crap!" Len didn't say anything but Mick could see his smile in the reflection of the window. ~*~*~*~ It was a weird thing to say, but the Rocky Mountains had been a bit of a surprise. Mick had seen the sign that said they'd gone into Colorado but overall it wasn't that much different from Kansas. It was the same empty horizon with farms and billboards and a whole lot of nothing for hours. He hadn't even noticed the mountains at first, they were so far away they were just irregular smears in the distance, barely indistinguishable from the rest of the sky and could disappear any time the road curved. Then it was like the moment he started seeing signs for Denver, the mountains just appeared. Still distant and still faded blue but dark enough that the jagged line they made was obvious. Mick reached over, shaking Len's shoulder as he dozed in the passenger seat. Len woke up with a start, hands coming up, ready to fight someone off. "What?" He asked groggily. "What is it?" Mick just pointed out the windshield. "Mountains." Len peered forward, waiting for Mick to drive under an overpass that was obstructing the view. "Yes," he said at length. "Those are mountains. Your geographical knowledge is astounding." Mick snorted but magnanimously didn't point out the fact that Len wasn't settling back to sleep again. He knew Len was oddly excited about them. After all he, like Mick, had never seen mountains in person before. They stopped again to fill the gas and their bellies and Mick picked up a map and directions from the clerk while he was at it. When he rejoined Len- with more snacks and drinks because why not -Len asked snidely, "Are you planning on going into the mountains?" "Sure," Mick said easily, dumping everything in Len's lap so he could buckle himself in. "Why not?" Len scowled and tossed everything into the back. Except for the map. "It's a big rock, Mick. What's the point?" "Because we're going passed 'em anyway." Len raised an eyebrow. "We are, are we?" "What, you wanna head back already?" When Len didn't say anything, Mick turned the ignition. "Yeah, didn't think so." Len narrowed his eyes at Mick. With great flair, like an act of defiance, Len pushed a new tape into the player. Mick caught sight of the case, just long enough to recognize it as one of Lisa's favorites: Cyndi Lauper. "Mother fucker!" Len chuckled maliciously but graciously opened the map while he was at it. ~*~*~*~ The closer they got to the mountains the less Len was able to pretend he didn't care. His eyes grew wider the higher they loomed and with every crest they made, there was another line right after. It took Mick a while to realize that, for as big as those first line of ranges were, they were only foothills. Rolling greens with deep crags of rocks and thick with trees, they were nothing compared to the actual mountains. They passed through a tunnel and suddenly the land was high enough to block out the sun. Len had to crane his neck out the window in order to see the tops. Mick drove carefully, somewhat unnerved by how closely the narrow, winding road hugged the mountain walls, especially having only ever driven either packed city streets or the wide open countryside. It looked like Len could lean out and touch it with his fingertips in places. He drove so cautiously, in fact, that Mick even pulled off a couple times in order to let other cars pass him. The way they sped by made him swallow hard. And he thought Len could get reckless. Not to mention, as much as Mick claimed to have grown up in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, but a town with only a two lane highway passing through and impossibly high mountains all around seemed incredibly isolating. But still he drove if not just because now Len was no longing hiding his excitement. He kept marveling at the rocks, at the river they drove alongside, at the sheer number of trees around them. Then they started on the switchbacks, going higher and higher until the trees started to thin out and once the road broke out of the treeline and they could see the land falling away, Mick pulled over at the first available place. They got out and just... stood there, staring at everything below them. The mountains and hills rolled away, fading into the distance and Mick hadn't even noticed how many ranges they'd driven through. "Holy shit," he said quietly. "I can't believe we didn't snag a camera." Len grabbed Mick's arm, a bright grin spreading over his face. "C'mon. Let's see how it looks from the top." They drove on, high enough they started passing patches of snow that still lingered despite the pre-summer heat that had them sweating all through Kansas and the eastern part of Colorado. They stopped again when they reached a huge lake near the summit. The water was so clear and blue they could see the rocks along the bottom. Out of curiosity, Mick went up to the edge and stuck his hand in for a split second before jerking it back. That shit was freezing! He knew it would be, of course, given the snow and how chilly it was so high up and the fact they drove through a fucking cloud on the way up, but it still took him by surprise. Len was pretending he wasn't laughing at Mick but Mick glared at him anyway. They continued, the road almost entirely switchbacks from that point on, barely any vegetation at all, just rocks and sparse patches of grass. Len slapped Mick's arm so hard Mick nearly drove them off the road. Mick was too surprised to be angry, however, when he realized Len was point at a couple of mountain goats that were just chilling a few dozen feet from the road. There was a parking area near the top where the ruins of a building that had burnt down a few years prior and, further beyond that an observatory sat. The actual summit was a short hike up a fairly impressive pile of rocks. They still had to stop for a breather a couple times, though, as altitude sickness got to them. But Len was determined to reach the top and wherever Len went, Mick followed. When they finally reached the top- a few other tourists giving them words of support as they passed -Mick crawled up to the top of the rocks and flopped on his back, trying to stave off the dizziness. Len was also breathing hard, but he was sitting up and taking in the view. "Goddamn," Mick said faintly, "mountains suck. Why is breathing so hard?" Len just hummed, eyes never moving from the horizon. After a while, Mick sat up. The view was spectacular, the land undulating until it faded to blue, blending in with the sky yet again. After a long stretch of silence, Len said, "Do you think that's Kansas?" "What?" "Over there." He pointed out to the horizon. Mick assumed he was pointing east. "Do you think that's Kansas? Or still Colorado?" Mick leaned forward slightly, squinting his eyes as if he could see some delineation of a border when he couldn't even tell if he was looking at flat land or more mountains. "I dunno. Why?" "I just... never realized how big the world is, I guess." Mick could see that. Until the impromptu roadtrip, Len hadn't even been to Kansas. "Less than thirteen hours and already there's an entire state and a half between us." "We could keep going." Len visibly hesitated so Mick continued, trying to keep his voice both neutral and coaxing. "Still got nearly three weeks until Lisa's back from camp. We could head back to that little town and get a room for then night, then keep going west in the morning. Spend a week traveling the California coast. We'd still make it back before she does." Len looked down, twisting his fingers together. "My dad will be pissed when I get back." "He's gonna be pissed no matter what you do." Len took a deep breath, pulling his lower lip between his teeth and worrying at it. Mick just put a hand to Len's back, thumb rubbing circles at the base of his neck. "Just a thought," Mick said, "we don't gotta do it." They sat there, long enough for their shadows to spill out down the mountain side, the valley below them getting darker and darker. Just as Mick was about to suggest getting a move on before the sun got much lower, Len said, "Okay." "Huh?" He turned to Mick, smile a little wavery but determined like he was trying not to talk himself out of it. "Let's see what's on the other side of the mountains." Mick grinned, heart pounding in his chest for reasons he didn't understand. Daringly he pulled Len into a tight, one-armed hug. "Sure thing, Boss." They went to the car, Len still tucked up against Mick's side. Their adventure was slightly waylaid when the mountain goats decided to stand in the middle of the road as they were leaving the summit but eventually Len managed to startle it off by cranking up a Motorhead tape. When they were able to start driving again, Mick socked him in the arm for hiding that up until now. Len just laughed, bright and happy.

[neoyeppuda]

A Little More - Seungkwan [30]

30. “One more chapter.”

Word Count: 1951

Type: fluff, dad!au, a bit of angst???

A/N: Oh my god it’s been months I am so sorry it’s been so long but I hope you guys enjoy this!!!! :> This was really cute and I loved the story idea I instantly thought of!! I pray I can post more often again :@kpopbreeze for beta reading this one!!!! I’ll see you guys at the next fic :> -Clar

He had no time for you.

That fact was the first thing registered on your mind when words of love and romance ambled off his lips with utmost sincerity. Whatever time he had for you now would diminish into one or two hours together over a few weeks once he’d take a step onto the silvery debut stage in front people that would now know him as Seungkwan of Seventeen.

You knew he wouldn’t always be there whenever you were stuck in a rough patch; nor would he be there as a pillar you could lean on whenever the need arose. Those were things you had to know before you even considered dating an idol, and you knew them very well.

To be brutally honest, you wouldn’t have considered accepting any of it when bubbles had only just begun rising from the pit of your stomach. The feelings that he had stirred up weren’t initially very difficult to brush off. But he did so more often, and more; you could no longer disregard the fact that it brushed against your heart the faintest of red shades.

Before you had time to even notice it, the soft spot you had for him began sprouting and blooming flowers that were the sweetest of roses. You could say you had already loved him; ardently and passionately, like the ambition that drives an artist to breathe vivid life into their creations.

Love had bloomed at the bottom of your heart, flourishing as it touched every crevice and every nook of the rosy walls around it.

The answer had already been decided upon as the earliest of rose buds began peeking out into the open; you knew what you were going to say.

“I like you too,” the instant the sweet syllables left your cherry lips, his face lit up like how stars did on the black canvas of night the day you admired them all twinkling in galaxies light years away from the very spot you were sitting on.

A breath of chilly wind tickled your cheeks as you shuffled to lean on Seungkwan’s shoulder, wrapping arms around the thick coat that clothed sinous muscle.

There was a shooting star on that day. Ever so bright as it glided across the vast darkness, the celestial body plummeted a little past the bustling city’s numerous skyscrapers. When your eyes fluttered close, Seungkwan’s own watched you and the sweet little curve of your lips make a wish that you hoped had zoomed across the stars to reach the heavens where it would be answered.

The moment in itself was what had made him fall deeper into the velvety sheets of red and passion fruit; honestly, the only thing he could do was love you more.

With the lights of windows slowly flicking off, the city gently embraced a sweet slumber. You had packed up the picnic cloth and the jacket that Seungkwan had swathed you in when little trembles against his fingers told him you were cold.

Everything was tidied and only a flattened patch of grass was left swaying in the wind. Whirring of the engine filled a wide silence that wedged itself in between both of you on the way home; a consistent tune that accompanied the peaceful night perfectly. It lulled you to a brief nap as the trip didn’t take too much time until you were at the front door of your house.

He bids you good night with a bashful smile, waving his hand and all before he returned to the comfy seat of his car. The vehicle pulled away smoothly and left once you stepped a foot into your household.

Rushing to the bedroom, you stubbed your toe into one of the numerous walls found in your house. But the pain didn’t matter to you at all. You slipped out of your outfit and into cozy pajamas, throwing yourself onto the wide bed as dreams completed your wonderful evening.

And your wish?

You’ve held onto it for years, until one day, you let go of it.

You had no reason to because at that one moment, he had already made it come true.

He got down on one knee with a bashful smile on his face. His hands shakily produced a small box that he opened for you to see its contents and your heart leaped, even though you knew it was coming.

“Marry me,” the words you dreamed of hearing from the man who you had been with through numerous years finally left the very same lips that kiss you in the morning as they whispered sweet nothings into the curve of your ear. Just like the day he confessed to you, similar words of romance left his smiling lips. However this time, it held promises of eternity.

And you were willing to accept the “forever” he talked about.

You brought a little angel into the world; and with her rosy skin and bright eyes, she took her first look at the awestruck faces of people she would soon come to know as her parents; with her silvery voice and the sweetest of smiles, she spoke her first words; with sturdy legs and a mind brimming with curiosity, she took her first steps.

The fragile baby that you once cradled around in your arms was now growing up and you couldn’t blink or you’d miss it. Seungkwan knew that; and with the kindness of his manager, those little hours grew into more and more during the early years of your daughter’s childhood.

“My manager is a kind angel,” Seungkwan sighed with admiration and gratitude. Only high words came out of him whenever the topic arose as she was the reason why he had so much time for Eunbyeol.

However idols will be idols, and Seungkwan had a world tour he absolutely had to be there for.

It was a day before their departure and this time, Seungkwan was given a whole day off. He was enthusiastic regarding the relatively long break, so despite it being hours earlier than usual, your husband was already up and about. He was outside playing with Eunbyeol for majority of the wonderful morning, and breakfast had slipped his mind.

They came home from the nearby park tired and starving, before devouring the pancakes and bacon you had laid out for them. “I told you to eat before you guys left,” a litany of scoldings came out of you as they finished off the rest of their food in silence.

“Is daddy reading to me tonight?” Eunbyeol hands you her plate with a mouthful of food.

You answered with a nod, washing up the licked-clean plate. “Which book do you want?” Seungkwan nudged the little kid with his elbow, eliciting another bout of giggles. Eunbyeol nudged him back with all the force she could muster, practically throwing her body at him which did not make much of an impact on Seungkwan as he was around thrice her size.

“I want Charlotte’s Web,” Eunbyeol chimed with sparkles in her round innocent eyes. The beloved novel was her favorite despite her initial struggles in understanding the story as it showed her the yellow brick road -as she described them- towards the world Charlotte had lived in.

The afternoon was spent outside again, with the two loves of your life running out and dirtying their clothes to pick several flowers for you. Seungkwan had offered to weave them into your hair, neatly separating the bouquet by color to arrange them properly.

“I want to help!” your daughter exclaims, scooping up a bunch of flowers with her tiny arms. They both made a lot of tangles here and there, as it was their first time doing something like this. However, in lieu of harsh words and expressions of disappointment, you simply smiled and brushed their apologies off. Seungkwan rubs the back of his hand against your warm cheek and your eye shuts as the hand draws a little to closer to it.

“It’s messy,” you giggle, unconsciously touching your hair in an attempt to ease the wild strands of hair standing up.

“It’s a mess but it’s still beautiful,” he chuckles and your smile mirrored his. As Seungkwan watched the breeze gently blow your hair back and forth, he noticed the specks of white that began twinkling in the gray sky behind you. A pang of pain struck his heart as the impending separation was approaching faster than he wanted it to. His plans were forlornly ruined as he realized that time would not wait for anyone, and that midnight would come in five more hours.

Back at home, Eunbyeol ran around in her silky pink pajamas. “Where’s the book?” she rummaged through her chest full of trinkets and toys she has had over the years. The hardbound book was the only one that wasn’t on the shelf like the rest of her books since it -according to her- was special, and it deserved a prestigious spot somewhere in her toy chest.

“Maybe it ran away,” Seungkwan teasingly smirks with hands behind his back. The instant she saw the look on his face she knew the book had been with him the whole time.

With an arm raised, she confidently asks for the novel. To which he replies with feigned innocence that was as transparent as glass.

“Daddy give it back!” Eunbyeol demanded her book.

His smile grew wider and he reveals the book from behind his back. “I knew it!” she exclaimed as a knowing smile graced the girl’s face, and it was off to bed with her.

Seungkwan tucked her in and small hands gripped the edge of the blanket tightly. Eager eyes watched her father flip towards the first page of chapter one and the magical journey began.

In your opinion, Seungkwan was a great storyteller. Whenever a character spoke, he’d deepen or soften his voice to fit the personality they had; whether it be arrogant or soft-spoken - he could do it all.

Bubbles of laughter erupted from the cold bedroom; waning as the little ray of sunshine slipped into a sweet slumber. Seungkwan’s voice was a little above a whisper, continuing the story despite no one listening.

The low growl of his phone vibrating against the leather pants drowned his voice in its dreary tone. He felt a tap on his shoulder as your presence filled the space beside him. The heart situated at his chest dropped along with his spirits.

He didn’t want to go just yet.

“Isn’t it almost time?” you asked quietly. Seungkwan hesitantly nodded, hoping to ignore any further questioning by averting his gaze from your being.

You checked your watch and the clock’s hands were dangerously drawing near to his departure time. “You should go,” he did not look up no matter how much you shook him as he knew any imploring look from you would convince him to leave.

With a slow shake of the head, he refuses.

“One more chapter,” he pulls you down next to him as he tells you in a soft tone. You sat on the chair beside him and leaned against him, taking in his cottony scent before he left. “You have to go soon, okay?” whispering to him as your eyes fluttered close; you shuffled in your place to rest your head on his shoulder. He nodded again, brushing his cheek against your head as he droned on about Charlotte’s exciting adventures.

“Have a safe flight,” upon hearing those words come from his sleepy wife, he let out a small chuckle before resting his head on hers.

And for a little more, his face lit up like the stars on that night.

[hannahindie]

Wake Up Sammy: Part 4 (Final)

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam, Pennywise Word Count: 3,365 Warnings: Violence, a hateful clown, Sam being tormented, Dean being tormented, blood. A/N: This is the fourth and final installment to my Wake Up, Sammy challenge piece based on the movie IT. If you’d like to catch up, you can find Part 1 HERE, part 2 HERE and part 3 HERE. I hope that you enjoy the ending as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I appreciate your patience, I know this took foreeeeeever to finish.

Beta’d by my beautiful water bear @trexrambling, who encourages me and helps my words make sense. Thank you, darlin’. “Hello there darkness... sheesh... What else is in store?”

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know! Aesthetic by me.

Dean slammed the cabinet door shut, then tossed the ingredients he found on the table. “I've got good news and bad news.”

Y/N looked up from where she was picking absentmindedly at her cuticle, “And?

Dean dropped heavily into the seat next to her, “Good news is that we've got the ingredients we need to jump into his dream. Bad news, we only have enough for one person.”

“Perfect! Let’s get it brewed, I’ll hop right in there, and I’ll wake him up in a jiffy! Boom.” Y/N reached for the dream root, but Dean pulled it away from her. “What the hell? Give it to me.”

“No, you’re staying here. I’ll go in and get him. It won’t take long.” Dean swept the ingredients into a mug and moved over to the counter, grabbing a tea kettle from the top of the fridge as he went.

Y/N crossed her arms and glared at his back, “And why am I the one that gets left behind? I can handle myself, Dean. I’ve saved both your asses plenty of times.”

Dean put his hands on the counter edge and leaned against it, his head down, “I know, Y/N. But this is different. You’ve never done this before and, judging by what Jadis said, it’s going to be a real bad time in there. If you get hurt...I can’t risk that. And anyway, when Sam wakes up, he’s gonna need you. So, please, just...just stay here, okay? Take care of Sammy and make sure no one comes in here.”

“Okay...sure thing. I’ll...I’ll stay here.” Y/N relaxed in her seat as she watched Dean nod once, then reach for the kettle.

“Thank you.” He moved over to the sink, and the sound of the water pouring into the kettle was almost deafening in the quiet kitchen. He went through the motions silently, and Y/N finally stood and pushed her chair in.

“I’m going to check on Sam, do you need anything?”

Dean shook his head, “No, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Y/N stalled for a moment, waiting for him to say something else, but he continued to work in silence. She walked down the hall slowly, stopping in the doorway of the room Sam was in. For a brief moment, she hoped that he had woken up on his own and would be sitting up in bed, smiling as she walked in. Unfortunately, he was exactly where they’d left him; unconscious and sweating, twitching and jerking in response to whatever was happening in his nightmare.

“Oh, Sam,” she whispered as she sat next to the bed and rested her hand on his. “This is my fault...I should have gone after you. I didn’t...I just...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She ran her hand through his damp hair, pushing it away from his eyes. His eyebrows furrowed and he frowned, his eyes darting back and forth behind his closed eyelids.

“It wasn’t your fault, Y/N.” Dean’s deep voice made her jump and she looked over to see him standing in the doorway, a steaming mug of dream root tea in his hands.

“I shouldn’t have let him leave. Jadis would have never grabbed him-”

Dean walked over and sat the mug on the nightstand, interrupting her, “Jadis was going to grab him eventually. She was angry and bent on revenge...nothing was going to stop her. We just provided her with the perfect opportunity.”

Y/N sighed, “And for what? So we could finish watching a cheesy horror movie? But hey, at least I’m catching up on my pop culture cred. Yay.” She raised an eyebrow, “Got everything ready?”

Dean nodded, “Yep, just missing the last ingredient.” He walked to the opposite side of the bed and placed a hand on Sam’s hair, “Sorry, brother.” He yanked, and Y/N grimaced as Dean pulled away with several strands and tossed them into his mug. He pulled the remaining chair over and settled in, frowning as he looked down at the muddy beverage. “You know, the last time we did this I said to myself, ‘Dean, never again drink anything with human hair in it. It’s gross, and unsanitary. Don’t do it.’ And yet, here we are. At least I know he uses fancy ass shampoo and conditioner.” He put the mug to his lips and grimaced. “Down the hatch we go,” he mumbled, then chugged the tea as fast as he could. Y/N watched as his eyes slipped shut and he slumped down in his seat. The mug dropped from his hand and hit the carpeted floor with a dull thud.

“You’d better both get back here alive…” she whispered, her worried gaze returning to Sam.

Dean jerked awake, a strangled yell escaping him as he sat up in a panic. He was laying in the middle of a road, and he brushed himself off as he stood and looked around. He groaned as he looked to his left and his suspicions were confirmed; 29 Neibolt St. stared at him with empty, dark windows, the door an open mouth screaming silently at him.

“Oh, Sammy, this is bad. This is real bad,” he mumbled to himself. Dean had known about Sam’s hatred of IT and all things clown related, but he'd had no idea just how deep his fear was. There were not enough apologies to ever make up for allowing this to happen. He took a deep breath and slowly made his way to the house, his heart in his throat as he got closer. A spot of red made him pause and as his eyes traveled down further, and the familiar crimson splash made him feel ill as he recognized it for what it is. A brighter red laying in the center of it caught his attention and he bent down to retrieve it. His confusion deepened when he realized it was a piece of balloon, and when he flipped it over, his stomach dropped.

Run.

“Where are you?” His gaze fell back on the open door, the toothless maw begging him to come inside. “Not today, you creepy ass house. Not today.” Movement caught the corner of his eye, and he turned to see a half-deflated balloon bouncing forlornly down the street. “Aw, shit, c’mon,” he groaned, then followed it as it dragged along the cracked asphalt. It led him down one street and then another, the houses becoming more and more decrepit as he went. A rustle to his left made him pause, and he turned to see Sam standing at the edge of a grove of trees. “Sam! Thank Jesus, Sammy, I was afraid we’d lost you. We took care of the witch, come on!” He strode towards him and Sam smiled, his mouth open as if to answer when he let out a strangled groan. Dean stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide in terror.

Pennywise was standing behind Sam, and he wiggled his gloved fingers at Dean. His other hand was too occupied with the rusty pipe that he’d thrust through Sam’s middle. Sam looked down in confusion as he tried to grasp the end of the pipe. “Dean…” he croaked as he dropped to his knees on the ground, his eyes rolling in panic as he tried to focus on where his brother was.

“No! You son of a bitch, no!” Dean felt like he was running in slow motion as he tried to get to Sam, each step getting heavier and heavier. Instead of the distance closing, it seemed to be getting longer and longer, and Dean felt a broken sob escape him.

“Sammy!”

Pennywise grinned, his red mouth opening wide to show off crooked, sharp teeth as he knelt down behind Sam. “Don’t you touch him! Don’t you fucking dare!” Pennywise winked and, his eyes locked with Dean’s, bit into Sam’s neck. “NO!” Dean bellowed. He finally made it to Sam, and just as he hit his knees on the damp grass and slid into where Sam should have been, he was gone. Dean looked around frantically, his breath coming in rattling gasps, “Son of a bitch!”  He sat back on his haunches and closed his eyes, “Our worst nightmares...okay...so that wasn’t real. Sam isn’t dead, he’s alive. I just have to find him.” He sighed as he stood up, and looked around. “Where are you?”

Sam peeked out from behind the boxes he’d hidden behind and listened carefully, sure that he’d misheard.

“Sammy!”

Dean. It was Dean. He jumped up and ran to the window. From this vantage point, he could see him at the edge of a grove of trees just outside the house he was hiding in. “Dean!” He yelled, beating on the window in hopes that it would be loud enough to get his attention, “I’m up here! Dean!” Dean fell to his knees, his head down and shoulders heaving. “What is he doing?” Sam thought, confused as Dean finally stood up and took off in the opposite direction, heading away from the house. Sam hit the window one last time, hard, and flinched as the glass cracked under his fist. He was gone.

Sam leaned against the wall and slid down, tucking his knees against his chest as he leaned his forehead against them. He had been hiding in this house for what felt like days, and now that Dean was here, he realized he had to move. He lifted his head and stared at the locked door in front of him, and his chest tightened in fear. So far, whatever had chased him here had left him alone aside from beating against the door and screeching at him, but what if he opened it? What if Pennywise was on the other side, bloody smile mocking him and claws poised to rip him apart? He took a deep breath and stood, forcing himself to move towards the door. He would die here if he didn’t leave, but if he tried at least there was a chance. His hand wrapped around the cool, glass doorknob and he slowly turned it. The door creaked open, and Sam braced himself for what he was about to see. Nothing...nothing was there. Despite the fact that the door should have had claw marks on it, the door was fine, unmarred. Sam hurried along the hall and down the stairs. He narrowed his eyes at the sudden onslaught of light as he flung the front door open.

“Dean! Where’d you go? Dean!” he shouted as he ran in the direction that he’d seen him go. “He couldn’t have gone far, right?” Sam thought desperately. “Dean!” He screamed until he was hoarse; why couldn’t Dean hear him? He stopped running and stood in the middle of the street, his hands dangling at his sides as he looked around in defeat. He was alone again, and this time...he was in the open.

Dean stopped walking and looked back over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed as he listened.

“Dean!”

It was faint, but it was there. Sam.

“Sam? Sam!” He ran back in the direction that he came, sliding to a stop when he saw Sam standing in the middle of the road, looking lost. “Thank Christ, Sam, come on! You’ve gotta wake up!”

Sam tilted his head in confusion, “Wake up? I’m not asleep...you’re...you’re not Dean.”

Dean groaned, “Yes, I am, come on! I’ll explain it later, but I need you to realize this isn’t real, I need you to wake up!” He began walking towards him, but Sam took a step back to each of Dean’s steps forward. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not asleep…and you’re not my brother. This is just another trick.” Sam’s eyes were wide, full of fear and confusion, and Dean stopped walking.

“Sam, listen. It’s me. The girl from the bar? She kidnapped you and force-fed you dream root. This whole thing,” Dean said as calmly as he could muster as he waved his arm, “it’s not real. Pennywise isn’t here, Sammy. He’s not here.”

“Aww, c’mon now, Deano, why are you lyin’ to the kid for?” Dean looked over sharply to see Pennywise standing within feet of him, his hands on his hips and his comically oversized shoes tapping against the street. “Sammy boy, you’re here, kee-rect? How can it be fake if you’re here? I think your brother might be a big ol’ L-I-A-R,” he spelled out in his sing song voice, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“You’re annoying even in dreams, you know that? Sam, listen, it’s me. Y/N and I found you, and we took care of the witch. Y/N is waiting for you at the house, she’s with you right now. Please, man, listen to me. If you just realize this isn’t real, you’ll wake up and you’ll be home.”

“Y/N,” Sam said softly.

“Oh ho ho, a giiiiiiiirl! You mean, this girl?” Pennywise snapped his fingers, and Y/N appeared in the street, halfway between Sam and Dean.

“Motherfu-” Dean was cut off by a large, white gloved hand wrapped around his throat, and suddenly Pennywise was snarling in his face.

“Language, Deano, language. This is a PG-13 rated show, see? And don’tcha want Sammy to see his girl? C’mon, spoilsport, leave ‘em alone.” He leaned in right next Dean’s ear, “This is the part where the boy doesn’t get the girl, but the girl sure gets him.” He pulled back and winked. Dean struggled against his grip as he realized Y/N was holding a knife behind her back.

“Sam, she’s not real...she’s….got...a...knife…” Dean struggled to get the words out, unsure if he was even loud enough for Sam to hear.

“Y/N…”

“Hey, Sammy.” She took a few slow steps towards him, and Dean struggled against Pennywise’s grip, which only tightened. Breathing was becoming an issue, and he groaned.

“What are you doing here? How’d you get here?” He looked over her shoulder to where Pennywise was holding Dean and tilted his head, confusion written on his face.

“Oh, don’t look at them, look at me. I’ve been here, Sam. I just had to find you. Aren’t you glad to see me?”

His eyes shifted back to her and he gave her a nervous smile, “Of-of course I am. It’s just...it’s not safe for you here. He’s...he’s going to kill us. He’ll kill you.” She smiled, and Sam’s confusion deepened. Something was wrong, her smile was wrong. He looked back over her shoulder and watched Dean struggle, eyes rolling desperately, as he fought against his captor’s grip. “You weren’t here before, Y/N.”

Her smile seemed to flicker slightly, and her eyes narrowed for just a split second, “I was, Sammy. I’ve been here the whole time. Dean’s the one that isn’t real. I’m real, Sammy, I’m the real one.”

Sam shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut, “Quit calling me Sammy. You don’t call me…” He gasped and opened his eyes and could see Dean nodding furiously in the background. “You don’t call me Sammy,” he glared at Pennywise, “but you do. Let my brother go.”

Y/N flickered out of existence, and the clown rolled his eyes, “Oh c’mon, don’t tell me this nincompoop has ruined my fun!” He glared at Dean, his hand tightening. Dean was beginning to turn a dangerous reddish purple, and Sam took a step forward. “Ah, ah, ahhh,” Pennywise sang as he wiggled a finger in Sam’s direction, “I’m the one in charge, kee-rect? There’s not a thing you can do to help ol’ Deano, Sammy boy. Not a thing!” He giggled and pulled Dean into his side, softly ghosting his lips over Dean’s ear, “He smells deeeeelicious, by the way, and I am hungry! So hungry...looks like you’re gonna have to watch me have a snack!” His mouth opened, and his jaw dropped open wider than should have been possible.

“No!” Sam shouted as he finally found his voice, “I won’t let you!”

Pennywise laughed, “There ain’t a lot you can do about it now, boyo! Seems to me like you don’t have any control over this situation, am I right or am I right?” He laughed, his voice high pitched and grating.

Sam’s fists clenched at his sides, “I guess you forgot...all I have to do is realize this isn’t real, and then I wake up.” Pennywise’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head back, his mouth widening even further as his fangs grew longer. “Dean, WAKE UP!” Sam roared, and then everything went black.

Y/N sat silently, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched Sam and Dean. Each of them had grown increasingly distressed; Dean kept mumbling to himself, struggling against whatever he was fighting in the dream, and Sam had mumbled her name a couple of times. All she could do was sit and watch, her heart aching at the pain etched in Sam’s face.

“Come on...it’s been too long, get out of there…” She dropped her head and sighed, tired and sore and terrified that neither one of them were going to make it out. She wasn’t sure what was going on in there, but it couldn’t be good. A rasping gasp disrupted her thoughts, and she looked up sharply to see Sam’s eyes wide open, darting around the room as he tried to figure out where he was. “Sam!”

His attention turned to her, his chest heaving, relief flooding his features when he felt her hand in his. “Y/N…”

“I am so, so sorry. I should have come after you. I shouldn’t have let you run off, it’s my fault that she took you…”

He reached up with his free hand and cupped her cheek, a smile turning up one corner of his mouth, “It’s not your fault. I don’t know what happened after the bar, but Jadis is the one that did this to me, not you.” He sat up and frowned when he saw the state of Y/N’s clothes, “What the hell happened to you? Is that your blood?”

“Yea, but I’m fine-”

“How is that fine?” Sam pushed the hair from Y/N’s face, his brows knitted in concern as he began to check her for injuries.

“Holy mother of hellhounds!” Dean blurted as he shot up in his chair suddenly,his eyes wide. “Oh, Jesus,” he groaned as he swiped a hand across his face, “I’m fine, I’m good. Don’t mind me at all.”

Y/N laughed, “I figured you would be. Took you long enough, Winchester.”

Dean shrugged, “Eh, always gotta have the last word, you know me.” He and Sam looked at each other, and Dean nodded knowingly, “Alright, well, I’m going to go see what kind of alcohol this place has. So I, uh, I’ll be in the kitchen.” He hurried out of the room, leaving Sam and Y/N on their own.

“I guess we should talk about the hotel room,” Sam said quietly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of Y/N’s hand.

“I know how that must have looked, and...I need you to know that it’s not like that with me and Dean, okay? He’s my best friend-”

She was cut off as Sam’s lips connected with hers, warm and soft, and she forgot what she’d been planning on saying. He pulled away from her and smiled, “I know...and I should have done that a long time ago instead of getting upset and storming off. I’ve felt like this for a long time. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

Y/N smiled back, “Better late than never, I suppose.”

Sam shifted so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arm around Y/N. “Can I ask a favor though?” he asked, placing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

She looked up at him questioningly, “Yea, sure, anything.”

“Never let Dean pick the movie again...ever.”

Y/N laughed, “You got it.”

Like what you see? Would you like to read more? Check out my master list HERE! 

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda  @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes  @deanssweetheart23  @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj @captainradicalpassion @myloveforyouxx @atc74 @mrsbatesmotel53 @easelweasel @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @thelittleredwhocould @jotink78 @amanda-teaches @ilsawasanacrobat @squirrel-moose-winchester @mjdoc90 @anticipate1003 @mrswhozeewhatsis

Wake Up, Sammy: @georgialouisea @mizzezm @troubletrumble

[mollymauk-teafleak]

psssst...if you're accepting prompts then you should totally write something for demon!alex *backflips out window*

CAREFUL, PLEASE DON’T HURT YOURSELF

Being a demon, ahunting animal in every sense of the world, Alex’s fight or flight response wasone of his strongest instincts. And right now, as he sat on the bed watchinghis girlfriend pace back and forth across their small bedroom with the phonepressed to her ear, her expression tense and shaky as she said those words- I’mpregnant…again- every nerve in his body was screaming at him to run and runand not stop.

But he’d promised.He’d promised on bended knee, with too many emotions to count bubbling in hischest as he kissed her stomach again and again, he’d promised to be here forher whatever she needed.

Even if it might endwith him being killed slowly and painfully.

Eliza’s expressiongave nothing away, he could only imagine what was happening with the other halfof her conversation as he watched his Betsey nod and make vague noises ofagreement and mumble half replies.

“No, we didn’t…itwasn’t exactly, no…of course…I know, Dosia, I’ve thought about it carefully…yeah…thanksso much, we’ll be there soon…I love you too.”

After an agonisinglylong wait which Alex spend trying to calculate how much damage his demonic bodywould realistically take on if he jumped out of the window right now, Eliza gavea nervous sigh and held the phone out to him.

“She wants to talk toyou,” she murmured apologetically, trying not to look like she was handing hima grenade ticking its way gradually and inescapably down towards exploding,though that was how it felt.

Alex accepted thephone hesitantly, taking a deep breath and trying to remind himself forcefully anything for Eliza, anything for mychildren, anything for my family.

“Your majesty?” hetried carefully, thinking it was best to start out very formally and politely,seeing as he was dealing with his boss’ wife, the Queen of the Crossroads andone of the most powerful demons in history.

And his Betsey’s bestfriend.

“So,” he tried andfailed to keep the nervous tremor out of his voice, “Eliza told you the goodnews, huh? New little bundle of- “

“Alexander Hamilton,”Dosia cut across him, her tone so cold and flat it left Alex feeling like he’dbeen dumped alone and naked on an Arctic ice floe, “Are you a complete andutter moron?”

Alex bit his lip,eyes silently begging Eliza for help but even his beloved couldn’t save himnow, “I like to think I’ve at least got street smarts- “

“Don’t interrupt, “Dosia snapped, no louder but there was a force behind it, an echo that turnedhis guts to lava, “Because I see no other way someone could watch the personthey loved, the very delicate and breakablehuman, whose already been through literal Hell for them, struggle to carryand give birth to one of their half demonic babies…and then accidentally knockthem up again!”

Alex trembled, “Um…Iknow and I’m sorry but I talked to Betsey and she says she s-still wants to gothrough with it…”

“Is that so?” thephone felt like it was getting hotter in his hand, uncomfortably hot in fact asDosia’s voice climbed and grew more fiery, trembling with the depth of Legion, “After500 years of existence, is something as simple as putting on a condom really thehardest thing you’ve ever had to do? Would you like me to explain it to you,for crying out loud? Here, so don’t open the damn thing with your teeth andthen take it between your thumb and forefinger…”

Even Eliza could hearit as her poor Alex received a sex ed lesson from a demon queen at fullstrength and volume, perching on the bed and watching with a fond, helplessexpression as he winced and held the phone at arm’s length, Dosia’s voice stillringing clear and powerful.

She did her best notto laugh at his misfortune, her hand resting soothingly on her belly where thenewest addition to their family was tucked up safe, the surprisingly tinylittle thing who was causing all this trouble. Usually telling your friends yourfamily was growing by one wasn’t a life-threatening task but their situationwas a pretty rare one, she had to admit.

Maybe rare was evenbeing too generous, unheard of was closer to the mark. Humans and demons didn’treproduce as a rule, let alone two times in as many years. Nor did they worktogether or date or live together or genuinely love each other the way Alex andEliza did, especially after facing everything that stood in the way of theirrelationship, so maybe all in all, having a baby wasn’t actually the weirdestthing they’d ever done?

Either way, a littleuncertainty was something Eliza was well used to.

She wasn’t all thatworried, Dosia had promised she’d just chew her Alex out for a while, leavinghim untouched. And as Eliza thought back to the twenty-six hours it had takento bring their son into the world, she couldn’t help but feel like he deservedto be strung up just a little bit?

She promised himselfshe’d put him back together with hugs and kisses as soon as he was done, gettingto her feet and wandering out of the bedroom, leaving Alex’s very angryeducation to be muffled by the door closing behind her. Shaking her headfondly, she wandered down the hall towards the nursery, the one where littlePhilip slept but would soon be turned around and redone for the new baby.

Philip had taken thenews that he was going to be a big brother very well, better than Alex andEliza could have hoped, especially when they told him that they’d be moving inwith the Burrs (so Eliza could be under their protection while she was in hervulnerable condition) which of course meant being even closer to his bestfriend in the whole world, little Theo.

He swallowed all thatchange and disruption with nothing but enthusiasm and yet the prospect ofgiving up his room for the new baby was what had shaken him to his little three-year-oldcore. So, Eliza wasn’t all that surprised when she found him sat ratherforlornly on the nursery carpet, like he was making the most of every secondthe room was still his, idly hugging his toy giraffe.

“Hello there, littleman,” she smiled, sinking onto the floor next to him, wondering how much longerit would be before her pregnancy made such simple movements impossible, “Youlook thoughtful.”

“Thinkin’,” Pipconfirmed, nodding so hard his mop of curls bounced.

Eliza stroked herlong fingers through his hair. Looking at little Pip as he was now, you’d neverbe able to tell what he was or, rather, what half of him was. Sometimes shefound herself unconsciously studying him, how he interacted with the othertoddlers they encountered at the park, looking for any signs or little ticsthat might put her precious baby in danger. Most of her nightmares these daysplayed out the things she couldn’t let herself even consider in daylight,namely what might happen if people knew the truth about her son. People meaningjust about anyone, more vitriolic hunters, demons looking to get one over onher boyfriend, even just ignorant humans doing their usual hideous thing withthings they didn’t understand. From her world, from Alex’s world, Eliza strivedto make sure her little lion cub had no idea of the myriad of dangersurrounding him from all sides.

She didn’t think thenightmares were going to get any easier, though, as her second baby grew.

“What are youthinking about, love?” she murmured, trying to shake those thoughts out of hermind.

Pip wrinkled hisnose, scrunching up his smattering of freckles, “Um…dunno?”

Eliza chuckledgently, “That’s okay…are you maybe thinking about what Pops told you yesterday?About the new baby?”

His sweet little heartshaped face flushed a bright pink as he admitted, “Maybe.”

She’d expected asmuch, gently lifting her son into her lap, holding him as close as she couldwhich never really seemed to be enough. As she did, she guided his pudgy littlestarfish hands down to her lower stomach, not for any particular reason, justthinking that the action seemed to soothe Alex and maybe it would work forPhilip too? But it turned out to be a very good unconsciously made decision.

As soon as his palmstouched down on his mother’s skin, Pip’s already large eyes widened even more,his mouth opening in a little O of surprise.

“Mama!” he whisperedreverently, “There they are!”

“Oh?” Eliza blinked,charmed by the expression of bewildered excitement on his face.

“Can feel them!” Pipwas practically vibrating with excitement, the demon side of his genes showingthrough in the restless energy that visibly buzzed through him, “Can feel them glowing!”

Of course. Alex couldpick up on the baby’s energy as they grew in her womb, from the way it wasentangled with his own, a part of him as much as it was a part of her. Whycouldn’t Pip do the same?

“Can you really?” Elizagrinned, with only a little touch of jealously. Why did she have to wait untilthat first kick when it was her body the baby was inside? Stupid demon powers…

“Uh huh!” Pip beamedback at her, the gaps showing in his teeth, “They’re green! Nice green, greenlike grass and flowers and…and frogs!”

Eliza snorted withlaughter at that, cupping Philip’s face lovingly in her hands, running herthumbs over his soft cheeks, “That sounds very lovely, little man.”

“I swear, if you puther life on the line just because you can’t keep it in your pants one more time, Hamilton, you lose yourdick privileges, do I make myself clear?” Dosia snarled down the line, probablycausing some of the wires and transistors along the way to burst into flames.

“I wouldn’t go thatfar!” Alex yelped defensively, his nature getting the better of him, “She’llhave you and Maria like last time, I don’t think her life’s in dangernecessarily…”

He realised immediatelythat this was the wrong thing to say as a horrible silence, somehow worse thanher words, filled the space between them, stretching out until he was beggingfor her to start yelling at him again.

“Uh…Dosia?” heventured in a mouse-small voice, wondering if she actually had fried theconnection.

“Alexander,” came theicy reply, “Have you ever had to carry a ten-pound weight in your stomach andthen push it out of, in your case, your ass? Because if you have a burningdesire to do so, I do have that power you realise and am perfectly happy tooblige you from this distance…”

The rumble in Alex’sstomach at that point was most likely a complete coincidence, the effect of thesoda he drank earlier (he wasn’t one for moderation) or something elsecompletely unrelated to Dosia’s threat but it still struck terror into him.

“No, no, no!” he gavea little scream, gripping the side table, “No thank you, your majesty, allpowerful and merciful queen of the underworld, I feel like I can empathise withmy girlfriend sufficiently without that, thank you and also I kind of want toactually live to meet my child?”

Dosia made a derisivenoise but thankfully, nothing happened to Alex.

“Listen, I’m nothappy about the fact that Eliza has to go through that mess again,” he groaned,running his hand through his hair, “But she wants to do this and I respectthat. For the whole nine months, I swear, I’ll be right by her side and doevery single thing I possibly can to make it even a little bit easier on her.And, for your information, I’d be saying that even if you hadn’t yelled at meso…so, yeah.”

Realising he didn’thave a good end to his argument, Alex just kind of trailed off, his hand fallinglimp by his side.

There was anotherharrowing pause before Dosia spat out, “Congratulations,” and slammed the phonedown on him.

That was when Alexdecided to run.

Philip and Eliza werestill sat in wonder as Alex sped into the nursery, skidding to a halt as allhis fear fled and expression softened at the scene in front of him.

“Can feel the baby,Pops!” Pip shrieked delightedly before his father could even open his mouth, “They’rein there!”

Alex chuckled, comingand taking a place by his Betsey so she could lean her head on his shoulder,taking the opportunity to wipe away a few emotional tears as she did. He’dreally hoped his little one would get that particular power of his, the onethat brought him so much peace, to know for sure that his loved ones were closeand safe.  

“He’s been telling meall about them,” Eliza explained, smiling tenderly, wrapping her arms aroundAlex’s, “How they’re feeling, what mood they’re in, he can sense all of it.”

“No way!” Alexgrinned, it sounded as if he was even more perceptive than his father, “That’sso cool, you go little buddy!”

Pip flushed withpleasure, demonstrating his power proudly as he carefully examined his mother’sstomach, her shirt pushed up for his hands, “Very green, green and happy. Kindahungry. Lotsa love.”

Eliza gave a gentle,happy little sob into her palm, snuggling close to Alex, “Oh…”

Alex found his girlfriend’shand and squeezed tight, his own voice thick with emotion, “And can you feelhow much they love you, mijo? How much they love their big brother?”

Pip puffed his littlechest out, eyes as bright and human as you could hope, “Yes! Love for me, too.”

Alex smiled, rufflinghis son’s hair. Maybe they didn’t fit into one category or another, maybe theywere breaking a few rules. But it sure as hell felt worth it.

[hijackedhoneybeeez]

(To Be Titled)

and here we have, by unpopular demand, a piece i wrote for my intro to fiction writing course that i affectionately (yet timidly) call “Vexed To The Max”

Vex has always been… vexing, in every sense of the word. He demanded attention with everything he did, and everything he did seemed to confirm and contradict his very being at the same time. He would be sneering and jeering at someone pinned up against a locker one moment, and the next he would be helping someone with their physics problem set. Or, he would be knocking down his fifth cup of beer and swaying to blaring music before he would comfort the greenish person sitting forlornly on a set of stairs.

Maxie knew that someone like him was someone to stay away from. Someone who had different sides of themselves wasn’t to be trusted or get close to.

This side of him, though, was something he never saw coming.

Clad in black, worn combat boots, nearly see-through black tights, jean shorts, and a black crop top, Vex stalked up to him and smirked at what Maxie could only guess was his bewildered expression.

“Like what ya see?” Vex cooed, canting a hip out to the side. Maxie reigned in his expression and folded his arms across his chest.

“You decided that now was a perfect time to try your hand at crossdressing?” Maxie replied dryly, raising his eyebrows at the other man.

“Gotta do whatcha gotta do,” he said airily, shrugging, before pulling Maxie into a hug. “Play along,” he hissed, his breath hot across the shell of Maxie’s ear. A shiver crawled its way up his spine before he could stop it. “So, you got the tickets?” Vex asked, pulling away and giving Maxie an expectant look.

“Of course.” Maxie withdrew a ticket from his back pocket and handed it to Vex just as a train sounded not too far away. “You’re going to have to pay me back, you know that, right?” Vex shrugged. “Where are we going, anyways?”

“Fulla questions, aren’t ya?” Vex sassed, right as the train peeked around the corner and made its slow stop at the station. “And you aren’t very good at acting,” he sighed as he slipped his hand into Maxie’s. He flinched at the contact, almost yanking his hand back but before he could do anything, Vex tightened his grip.

“Like you’re any better?” Maxie retorted.

“Aren’t I?” Vex questioned cockily, holding their hands up just as the train pulled in the station.

The sicky fear bubbling in Maxie’s stomach made a reappearance as they wandered over to the last cabin of the train. He was hoping for some answers before actually leaving, but Vex was having none of it. This wasn’t what he signed up for. He shouldn’t have signed anything in the first place. He half-thought to dig his heels into the pavement and demand an explanation, but somewhere in his mind told him Vex wouldn’t hesitate to throw him over his shoulder and parade him on the train himself. It’s better to keep up appearances, Maxie told himself, and if holding hands is what it takes, then fine.

Vex led him to a window seat and sat down right next to him, trapping him in. Maxie thought that was a cheap shot, shooting him a glare from the corner of his eye before getting his hand back.

“Stop touching me,” Maxie grumbled sourly, scooting as close as he could to the window.

“Aww…” Vex sang, slumping over so his head fell awkwardly on Maxie’s shoulder. He tried pushing him away. “Someone’s angry ‘cuz they’re not prettier than me!” Maxie finally got him off and shot him a glare that would have cut him to ribbons if his smirk wasn’t a shield.

“I’m angry because you’re not telling me anything!” Maxie argued.

“Not my fault you agreed without askin’ more questions,” Vex said, shrugging a little before slumping into his seat and closing his eyes.

“I did ask questions!”

“Yeah, logistics.”

“I asked why! And the only thing you told me was to not worry about!” Maxie tucked himself closer still to the window. “And I’m worrying.”

“You’re only worried about your grades,” Vex stated, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Newsflash: your A’s aren’t gonna die without you kissin’ your professor’s ass, alright?”

“I don’t-!” Maxie protested, before sucking in a breath and looking up at the train’s ceiling. He’s not worth fighting with, Maxie. “If you’re not going to tell me why, at least tell me where we’re going.”

“Away from Paradise,” Vex said immediately.

“Paradise?”

“The joys and wonders and sugar plum fairies,” he gave Maxie a definite look from the corner of his eye, “of Middle Way University.”

“Where’s the endgame?”

“Don’t worry ya pretty little head about that.” Vex gave him a saccharine smile. “Get some sleep, we’re ridin’ this thing ‘till the last stop.” And with that, Vex slumped into his seat, wiggled to get comfortable, and fell asleep.

Maxie didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to sit there, enraged by the person next to him, and think of ways he could still get out of this. How could he, after all? Vex just strung him along like he was a pearl necklace, free and for the taking. Sure, he agreed, but he thought he would be getting some kind of explanation (and yeah, okay, he was caught off guard when someone like Vex, the only person he wanted to get away from, told him he needed him, but that’s not the point). He hated all of this, how Vex was taking up all the space he could so he couldn’t slip off the train at the next stop, hated how he had to leave all his books in his room so he couldn’t study, hated how the train lurched every couple of minutes, hated how he yawned, hated how eventually his eyes slid closed and all his hatred was muted by sleep.

It was cold, and dark, and the streetlights flickered right on the edge of death, but Maxie knew exactly where he was. He was home. At his first one, anyways.

He ran up the street and slipped through the waist-high chain-link gate with ease, the lock broken since before he can remember. The yard, small and bleak, was just as he remembered it, covered with dying grass and litter all over, but he paid it no mind as he jumped the three little steps that made up the porch. The stucco that covered the outside of the house was the same as it was all those years ago, albeit a little paler pink than before.

He was home, and he yanked the door open before he thought twice about it.

“Mom!”

The walls were still their muted blue, their pictures still hung awkwardly, showing different family members and the time he and his mom went to a theme park when he was little, carpet was still plush and stained under his feet.

Very slowly, things started losing their color.

“Ma!” Maxie darted into the living room, looking around before hopping over the couch and crossed the line where the carpet turned linoleum, into the kitchen. The trash hadn’t been taken out in a while, and the dishes hadn’t been done. He turned away, frantic, wondering where she was. It’s been so long…

“Don’t you dare, Maxie!”

“Mom?” He flew out of the kitchen and stopped to listen.

“Don’t you dare let anyone,” Maxine could pinpoint her upstairs and started up them two at a time, “anyone, get in your way, you got that, Maxie? You fight with all that you got to get to the top and don’t let nobody stop you!”

Her voice was fading at her last word, just as Maxie dove down the hallway and looked into their small bathroom. Color was sucked out of everything around him as he laid eyes on his mother’s body collapsed on the floor. Almost everything. Only the bright orange pill bottle retained its vibrancy, on the sink and empty, as Maxie sunk to his knees and reached out towards his mother.

“Maxie? Babe? C’mon, we gotta get goin’…”

“Didja just call me babe?” Maxie slurred, waking up with his heart racing and a gentle hand on his shoulder. Everything comes flooding back to him the moment his eyes cracked open, the train lights blinding and Vex standing over him with a concerned look on his face. His mom.

“We gotta get off,” Vex answered, ignoring his question. Without preamble, Vex grabbed his backpack that laid down by his feet and slung it over his shoulder with his. “Let’s go.”

Maxie followed him off the train, past the homeless people that made their homes under the constant cover of the train tracks, and into the city.

“You usually have nightmares, or was that a one-time thing?” Vex asked, giving him a brief look out of the corner of his eye as he waltzed down the road like he knew the place by heart.

“Do you usually call people ‘babe,’ or am I just special?” Maxie mocked.

“It’s called fakin’ a relationship and its part of our cover so get your head outta your ass.”

“If it’s convincing, is it really faking?”

“You want to date me, don’t you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Here,” Vex spat, handing him his backpack without a glance. “I ain’t holdin’ your stuff if you’re gonna be an asshole.” Maxie took it without complaint, sort of surprised that he was okay with holding it for so long afterwards. He flung it securely on his shoulders. “You changed the subject, by the way.”

“What?”

“Nightmares.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Ah, I get it,” Vex mused. “A taste of my own medicine.” Maxie flinched at the word, and hoped Vex hadn’t noticed. Thankfully, he pulled out a phone from his pocket instead, something Maxie hadn’t noticed until now. His own phone was lying at the bottom of his backpack. Vex checked it quickly, scrolling a bit, before shoving it back where it came from. “How about this: you tell me your nightmare, I’ll tell ya the why you’re so obsessed about.”

Now that was just unfair. Maxie didn’t know what he did that tipped Vex off that it was a nightmare, but whatever it was, it must have been something about his mom. And he didn’t want to talk about it, there was nothing he could do, and besides, he wouldn’t want to confide in someone like Vex, anyways. Her words floated to the front of his mind again: “Don’t let anyone get in your way, you got that?” He wouldn’t, he always promised that much no matter how hypocritical of her, and he wouldn’t break his promise now.

“You don’t want to tell me, I don’t want to tell you. Why place stakes on something we both know won’t happen?” Maxie offered. “Besides, the faster we do whatever you’re up to, the faster we can go back to Paradise, as you call it, which is fine by me.”

Vex didn’t say anything, for once, and just kept walking. Maxie thought he looked bothered, or at least was contemplating something, but he wasn’t about to ask why. They just kept walking, down busy sidewalks littered with cigarette butts, weaving through cars and slipping through filthy places filled with tents and trash. By the time the sun had set, Vex had already dragged them to a drugstore and bought something that resembled dinner.

Vex was relentless. They walked further still as they munched on their granola bars and sipped their Gatorades, passing shopping districts and finally stopping at a bay. The other side of the city was clearly in reach, but even so, a small part of the ocean separated it from them. There was a small lawn of unreasonably green grass preceding a small beach and the shoreline.

“Nice scenery,” Maxie noted, nodding towards the ocean as it reflected the dark night sky and twinkling stars.

“There’s a bus that stops here in the mornin’,” Vex said as he dug out a jacket from his bag and threw it on. It was getting cold, and Maxie had a feeling it was only going to get colder.

“You did your research,” he threw in.

“I lived here.”

“Really?”

“Doesn’t matter. Sleep.” He settled down on a patch of grass.

“Is there a bathroom around here?”

“Piss in the ocean.”

“Are you always this vulgar?”

“Fish do it.”

“You know what, I’ll find one myself.” Maxie made a move to leave, but heard Vex groan and push himself to his feet. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll get yourself killed out here if you go alone,” Vex said, like it was a fact. “Let’s find you a fuckin’ bathroom.”

Turns out, the nearest bathroom was farther down the beach than they expected. They trudged along, their backpacks already weighing them down more than they should from exposure. Maxie didn’t know how tired he was until now. And how much he needed to pee. And, thinking about it, Vex was pretty much done with him, but still was willing to go with him to find a bathroom…

“I don’t get you,” Maxie mumbled, wanting to get it out of his head and not really counting on him to be listening.

“What?” Of course he listened.

“You. I mean… you just…” God, how does he explain this without sounding weird?

“I’ve never heard ya more eloquent,” Vex mused.

“Shut up, like you’re any better,” Maxie shot back.

“I think I am, actually.”

“You’re just…” Shit, how do I explain this? “You were obviously mad at me after I shot you down with your offer or whatever, and now you’re being nice to me despite wanting nothing to do with me and it… you’re confusing.” All the while Maxie gripped on his backpack straps and looked at the grass he was treading on, not wanting to have this conversation but knowing he wouldn’t be able to avoid it.

“It’s called bein’ a decent human being,” Vex shot back after a pretty pregnant pause. Maxie looked up, eyes wide, and finally looked at him. “Sure, I was mad, but that was only because for a smartass, you can’t really see past your nose.”

“What does that-?”

“Think for a second, scholarship boy. I told ya I’d tell you what you wanted if ya told me somethin’. I was tryin’ to not make this awkward but.”

“But?”

“But you think I’m some kinda soulless monster and want nothing to do with me even though I’m the only person you know right now.” But then, they reached the bathroom, the complex dirty, run down, and covered in sand. Vex glued his back to one of the walls and looked at the sky like he didn’t say something that was right on the nose.

Maxie struggled for something to say, but the most he could get out was a strangled “yeah” before disappearing into the bathroom.

The bus left at exactly 6:30, and Vex and Maxie were the only two on it. The bus driver gave them a weird look, their linked hands completely in view as they boarded. Vex slumped against the window, not even bothering to block Maxie in this time, and fell asleep.

Maxie toyed with the thought of taking his phone out of his backpack. The thought of it seemed too mundane, somehow, like it would be out of place to check his phone after how far they’ve gone. The thought of “they,” as him and Vex as a single unit, got him diving into his bag and digging around for his phone. They might be in this thing together, but their connection stops at situational. Maxie was sure of it.

He didn’t know what he was expecting. His foster parents had nothing to do with him since he left for college and, honestly, he had nothing to do with them either. He barely talked to anyone outside of classes and never bothered to give them his phone number. They were all distractions from his endgame, after all.

So, of course, what was he expecting besides a lock screen without any new notifications?

He dropped the phone like it burned him, zipped up his backpack and dropped it by his feet. Why would it matter anyways? He didn’t need anyone or anything. Just because he didn’t have any messages after disappearing from his normal life for a day didn’t mean a thing. And then Maxie stalled, his brain derailing, because what if it did mean something? What if he really did have no one, or nothing? What if, one day, he really did disappear forever? Would anyone notice? Would anyone care? Would anyone know him well enough to identify his body when they found it at the bottom of a dried-out river twenty years from now?

“Maxie?” He could hear Vex beside him, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but try to breath under the new weight pressing on his chest that was dread. How long ago did he stop breathing right? “Maxie! Shit, man, fuckin’ breathe.”

“He alright there, son?”

“Fine,” Vex shot at the bus driver. “Maxie, look at me, alrigh’? Maxie.” He finally looked, and he noticed Vex’s hand on his shoulder and that he had hazel eyes. He always thought they were black. “You’re alright, okay? Just calm down.”

Calm down? Maxie thought bitterly. No one’s ever going to notice when I die, how the heck am I supposed to calm down?

The touch on his shoulder disappeared, being replaced by a featherlight sensation of fingers sweeping away the fringe hanging in his eyes. It made Maxie gasp, sounding like a man who just broke the surface after being battered by a million waves in the middle of the ocean.

“There we go, c’mon…” The touch found itself on top of his, clasping it tightly even as it shook and tried to get itself away from him. “That’s good. You’re you again. Fight me. You hate me, right? This,” he squeezes Maxie’s hand, “bugs you? Fight back, Maxie.” He sounded so calm, so willing to admit that Maxie hated him that it felt wrong to even think that in the first place. His hand stilled where it rested on his lap in Vex’s grip. “Can you talk?” Could he? Maxie heaved in another breath. “Fine, we’re gettin’ off at the next stop.”

They wound up at a shopping mall, pristine, expensive, and high-end from what Maxie absently saw, and Vex all but pushed him onto one of the iron-wrought benches that surrounded the outskirts of the place. He slung both their backpacks on the floor and collapsed into the seat next to him.

“You’re a lot of trouble for someone who wants ta stay out of it, ya know?” Vex sighed, hanging his head back. “What’s the panic attack for?”

“It’s…” Maxie found himself able to say, but he stopped before he could say anything else. Moving worked, getting him out of that bus worked. The dread was still there, just moved to the back of his mind, like an unfortunate headache. Vex somehow knew exactly what to do to snap him out of it, and that scared him. He took a couple deep breaths and steadied himself. Vex didn’t push.  “It’s nothing,” Maxie said resolutely.

“Bullshit,” Vex spat, sitting up a little straighter and turning towards him. “You just had a fuckin’ panic attack on a bus, you can’t say it was nothing!”

“Oh, like you care?” Maxie bit back. “What does it matter to you, anyways?”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me. Please tell me you’re not actually this dense all the damn time.”

“I’m not being dense, I’m being realistic.”

“So you’re telling me you honestly can’t tell the difference between someone askin’ empty questions and someone who’s genuinely worried about you?” Vex asked, practically yelling. He looked a second away from standing up, grabbing him by the collar, and shaking him until his brain fell out, but he didn’t do anything like that. Instead, he glared into Maxie’s eyes for a long moment, and under his gaze Maxie felt pinned. “Useless,” Vex muttered under his breath, before pushing himself to his feet. “Are you coming or not?”

Without any way to decline him, Maxie got up, grabbed both of their backpacks, and trotted after him.

McDonald’s wasn’t the classiest restaurant in the world, but being the only one Maxie’s been to since he aged out of the system, it felt like a luxury he wasn’t supposed to have. Eating chicken nuggets made him feel like a kid again, and it was odd to look up and see that the person across from him wasn’t his mother.

“We’re heading back,” Vex said after Maxie meticulously munched through half of his food.

“What?”

“I knew I grew on you,” Vex joked.

“No,” Maxie refuted, “it’s just sudden.”

“There’s no need for any of this anymore,” Vex replied simply, polishing off his French fries. “The guy’s not dead, Lill’s safe, and I’m not in trouble. So back to Paradise we go.”

“Hold on,” Maxie said, nearly choking on his own spit. “What the hell.”

“Wow, a pretty boy swearing. Who would’ve thought?”

“Explain.”

“Lill’s always gettin’ herself in some interestin’ trouble,” Vex started with a moment of thought. “It’s like she can’t get away from it no matter how hard she tries. She fell in love with some abusive asshole that liked ta beat the shit outta anyone he can. So I talked her outta the whole thing, but he was still hung up, so he stalked her back to the house and started swinging’. I was already headin’ over for dinner, so by the time I got there it was a shit show. I tore ‘im off her, gave ‘im one punch in the jaw, and he was dead.” He scrunched his nose in confusion. “Or at least I thought so. He lived, went ta jail for attacking someone and breakin’ and enterin’, and I’m scott-free.”

“You thought you killed someone, so the most logical plan of action was run away with someone you barely knew?” Maxie articulated after several long seconds, looking at Vex like he was the crazy man he knew he was in the beginning.

“Well,” Vex thought for a moment, “when ya put it that way, it just sound ridiculous.”

“What if you actually killed the guy? What if we were found? What would happen to me?”

“Self-centered, much?”

“Did you even think this through?” Maxie acted like he didn’t even hear his injection. “Did you, for a second, stop to think about checking a pulse, or even think about where we were going on this whole trip? Were we even going to go back in the first place?”

“I needed ya as a cover-up outta here,” Vex said, giving him a hard look. “You are the single most sensible person in Paradise. I knew I could count on you to at least come along for a while before helping me think of a better alternative.”

“I would’ve,” Maxie growled, “if you told me what was going on in the first place.”

“I wasn’t expectin’ you to hate me so damn much, so I couldn’t do anythin’ but string ya along long enough to stop.”

“I don’t-!”

“If you say you don’t hate me, you’re lying,” Vex said definitively, and that brought Maxie up short. Sure, Vex was annoying and the kind of person he would rather avoid than anything else but… did that mean he hated him? And, really, was this whole thing enough to hate him over? He was saving himself because he saved someone else, after all.

“Yeah,” Vex spat, throwing him out of his reverie and forcing him to come back to reality, “exactly. So we’re goin’ back, and, don’t worry, I won’t bother ya anymore.”

There was nothing Maxie could say or do to stop it. He thought about telling Vex everything, about his mother and about being alone in the world and how Vex was the only person he had ever felt truly cared about him even if it wasn’t much, but how could he say all that without sounding needy? He could try, but no matter what he wanted to say, it never came out right.

They sat through a bus and two train rides before Maxie came up with something to say, but it was already too late.

“I don’t hate you. I don’t think I ever did.” It was the most truthful thing Maxie had ever uttered.

“Good to know,” Vex muttered, not even meeting his eye. He still had that ridiculous outfit on, the boots and the crop top and the shorts, but Maxie didn’t see any of it. He only saw Vex, in the clearest way anyone could see someone so three-dimensional. “Don’t change a thing, though.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and didn’t even look back as he trudged back to Paradise.

About a week later, Maxie found a grassy place he never noticed before, dropped his backpack harshly, and flopped onto the ground. The sun beat down on him harshly, but he didn’t care, only squinted up at it like it killed his mother and not the pills.

Fuck his mom. What did she know about success? What did she know about not letting anyone get in her way? She let those pills dictate her life and left him to deal with the repercussions. He let her words guide him for so long, thinking she was the only one he could trust, especially after she was gone.

And here he is. Bored out of his mind, more alone than ever, and wondering if he laid here long enough, if the elements would think of him as their own and swallow him whole. He thought it was plausible.

He didn’t know he had no one until Vex practically shoved that little fact in his face. He was content in his own little bubble in Paradise, working towards some sort of bubbly goal that would have meant the world to him. Vex was a bucket of water, a slap to the face, waking him up and showing him there was no endgame down his road, only nothingness and loneliness and unhappiness.

Vex showed him the other side, that people were capable of being themselves but also caring. He thought he hated him and he still cared about him the best he could.

And all Maxie ever did was push him away. Shit.

“Shit!” Maxie hissed, feeling something small drop onto his stomach harshly. He curled inwards, his eyes finally away from the sun, and looked up.

“Pretty boy swearing,” someone joked, “who would’a known?”

Shock gone, Maxie bolted upright, looking into the haloed silhouette standing over him.

“Vex.”

“I know,” Vex conceded, shifting, making the sun peek out behind him and knock off his halo. “I forgot I stole your wallet.”

“My…” Maxie looked at the bright green grass next to him, and found his wallet next to where his stomach was. “You stole it?”

“I slipped it from your bag when ya fell asleep,” Vex admitted. “How else did ya think I bought food, the bus tickets, our way back…?” When all Maxie did was blink up at him, Vex took a step back. “Anyway, promise broken, but it’s renewed. I’ll leave ya.” He was already walking away when Maxie leapt to his feet, grabbed onto his arm, and kept him there.

“Wait.”

Vex raised an eyebrow at him, his hazel eyes questioning, and Maxie couldn’t meet his gaze. His gaze dropped down to their shoes, and with a jolt he realized Vex was wearing the same worn, black combat boots. They went up about midcalf, laced up with a complicated pattern and looking away too decorative to be comfortable. They were scuffed, the smooth blackness of them interrupted by the rough edges where his toes bent and the irregular intervals where they were stepped on or kicked against. Uncomfortable, but worn, known, sturdy even as Vex’s footing looked as unstable as someone could stand.

“Can we just not renew it in the first place?” Maxie asked, his voice smaller than he wanted it to be. “I don’t hate you. I… I didn’t know how wrong I was, but… you showed me, and I would be really grateful if you would just… stay.” It sounded pathetic, even to his ears. “Y-you don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but maybe we could start over. Clean slate and all that, you know, and try to make it work.” He let go of Vex, knowing it was to no avail. With a sigh, he took a hesitant step back, and, as he looked up, said, “Sorry, just forget I-”

Warmth flushed against his forehead, tender as anything he’s ever felt before, and as his stomach swooped in confusion, Vex stepped back.

“I thought you’d never ask.”