#the gang sleeps like a pile of cats and you can not let me give up this headcanon

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU - First Night

We are back because i had a new idea and i really liked it :3 and I really wanted to type a KillerPOV drabble so here we are

So we are back with a new drabble! also @spotaus get over here :D also. *nervous laughter* I think these drabbles keep getting longer and longer. don't expect long drabbles each time please hehe... Some concepts are just shorter in what they need to do them justice and sometimes i get multiple ideas for the same scenerio and they get longer to fit it all.

First Drabble Prev Drabble over here Next Drabble

Look at these guys trying to parent their immortal child. Look they know the situation even if they are still getting used to the idea and all it implies

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Killer watches the farm house through the tree line with a frown. Cross stands next to him with his own frown "Think this was a bad idea? Maybe we can go to another place."

Killer thinks as he keeps staring at the door that Horror disappeared into "Maybe..." except they had been constantly universe hopping for the last four days. Never staying for longer than either a quick nap, meal or supply run.

A glance back to see Dust who stands with a very exhausted Nightmare.

Killer turns back to the house "Maybe for the better." even if they really need a night of rest and-

Dust huffs "Or you can just have trust in Horror's opinion and wait it out."

Killer turns back with a glare "I am being cautious!"

Dust doesn't even look at him "You are being an idiot. Crop is fine. He never sold Horror out to the Stars. He won't sell out Nightmare." Dust keeps looking at Nightmare who is very clearly on the path to fall asleep fully.

Killer glares but steps away from the treeline and marches over to Dust. He glares and takes Nightmare from his hold. Dust looks unimpressed but doesn't challenge him.

Nightmare grumbles but just turns around and holds unto him instead as Killer hugs him close. Killer can feel his soul getting a bit smushed between them but it feels nice. a pressure that reassures him that nightmare is there and alive and fine.

Ngihtmare is still so light and tiny and fits so perfectly and Killer honestly doens't want to let go.

There is a very good reason that Nightmare hardly has to walk himself as all four of them are more than happy to hold unto him.

Cross looks up "Horror is coming this way."

Killer turns to look in the right direction as Dust stands next to him with his hand in his pockets.

Horror joins them and looks between Dust and him. more pointedly at Nightmare before pointing back over his shoulder "We can stay for a bit." Then he stares at Killer "please just behave. Crop is nice."

Killer huffs as he hugs Nightmare tighter to him. Nightmare huffs as he looks at him annoyed but doesn't complain. Killer actually feels Nightmare hold unto him tighter as well. Clearly more anxious about this meeting than he wants to admit.

Killer coos and nuzzles the tiny skull "It is okay Nightlight, if anything happens we are out before they even have the chance to do anything." Nightmare ducks his skull and mumbles some words before nodding.

Cross pushes and pats his own clothes down. Trying to get some of the dirt and grime off "Okay. okay. good first impressions. We can do this." he straightens his spine and nods to Horror. Clearly giving up on being presentable.

Killer can admit the constant universe hopping hasn't been the best for their overall hygiene which was another deciding factor for even considering doing this.

Horror gives him another look and Killer grumbles "Fine fine! I won't start trouble." for now. unless that other sans tries anything to hurt or take their little nightlight.

Horror still holds his gaze for a moment longer before nodding and leading the group towards the house. Instead of knocking again he just pushes the door open and gives them a look "no shoes" he glances at Nightmare who still doesn't have fitting shoes and clearly gives up with having manners concerning their babybones.

Killer shrugs and easily kicks off his shoes by the door, Dust does the same while Cross puts his shoes neatly by the door. Horror removes his own shoes again and leads them in.

Killer holds Ngihtmare close and starts to hang back in the group, nearest the door but still able to keep a close socket on what is going on.

Steps on the stairs and a sans walks down. this one has green eye lights and looks up with a smile "Howdy! It is nice to meet you'll!" he nods to dust "Good to see you again Dust. How is the shoulder holding up?"

Dust shrugs and gives a thumbs up.

Crop nods and smiles at them "Anyway. Horror told me about... the situation." and it is obvious in his curius gaze who he is looking for.

Killer pulls Nightmare a bit closer to him but Horror shoots him a warning look and motions forwards.

Killer huffs but slowly walks closer. Making sure everything about him says not to even fucking try or there will be pain. Nightmare turns slowly to study the new skeleton.

Crop smile turns more nervous as Killer goes closer but his whole face lights up when he spots Nightmare. Killer is a bit torn on how to feel about that. Obviously it is the correct reaction, Nightmare is the most adorable little babybones. But this is their babybones and Killer feels possessive over him.

Crop smiles more gentle as he focusses on Nightmare "Hey there. I am Crop. Horror's friend. Nice to finally meet you."

Nightmare frowns and pushes closer to Killer. Still feeling a bit conflicted about being treated as a kid it seems. At least he isn't trying to deny he is a child anymore. Killer nuzzles the top of the tiny skull and Nightmare relaxes more in his hold.

Crop grins widely as he looks at Horror "Anyway. I was grabbing some stuff. I don't have a lot of children things but I do got some too small clothes for either my brother or me." He looks from skeleton to skeleton "I... think you all can use a moment to relax."

After which Crop points out the obivous living room and kitchen. He motions towards two doors to the side which he says are his own and his brother's room. Next he shows the door under the stairs that leads to a bathroom and he welcomes them to use it.

Dust frowns "anything apple scented? apples dont go over well with Ngihtmare."

Crop tilts his skull but clearly thinks it over "I don't think so... if you do find anything with apples you can just leave it in my room, I ask you not to throw it away because somethings are harder to get than others."

Dust nods and takes Nightmare out of Killer's arms again and Killer can't help but watch closely as Dust easily gains a secure hold on Nightmare and Nightmare gets comfortbale with practised ease.

Dust nods to them "I am going to wash us." and he goes towards the bathroom.

Crop frowns "I am afraid i don't have enough toothbrushes for all of you. Maybe I got some somewhere but i wouldn't know where."

Dust shrugs as he raises his own bag "Has some necesserities." and he disappears inside.

Crop nods before looking at the them "I can show you the spot I had in mind for you guys. It is the attic and I apologise for the mess but I am sure it can be quickly changed to fit you."

Horror nods and Cross smiles "Thank you so much. Sorry for springing this on you..."

Crop waves it off "It is better than Horror just showing up with a stranger who had a hlaf severed shoulder."

Killer and Cross both blink and slowly turn to Horror. Horrro just looks sheepish "The crystal wasn't charged and Dust had been the one injured. This was as far as I could get..."

Killer blinks, okay that explains why Horror had trusted this place and this person.

Even so as Crop starts to lead them up the set of stairs Killer shares a look with Cross and nods towards the bathroom holding Dust and Nightmare. Cross follows his gaze before nodding and easily going to stand guard by the door.

Perfect. that way if anyone tries anything there is Cross to stop them as Dust can get Nightmare away safely. Killer quickly goes after Horror and Crop.

The attic is full of old boxes. But also an old closet, a large lounge chair by the round window and a nice queen sized bed. It is bare at the moment but Crop walks over with some new sheets and blankets and puts them on the bed. After it he quickly goes to the window and opens it to let the room breathe.

Crop turns around and smiles "Well, this is the attic. obviously a bit of a mess but we can probably move all the boxes and old stuff towards that area" he points to the side "Which will open up the space for you five to use." he looks sheepish "my house isn't exactly made to hosue this many people so it isn't a long term solution but this should work for a little while for you guys."

Horror nods as he starts moving stuff around "Thank you again Crop. This means a lot."

Killer gets to work with putting the bedding on the bed and getting ti ready. He doesn't care to much about bedding himself but Nightmare can't handle the cold that well and he deserves every bit of comfort they can get him.

Crop smiles "no worries! I am happy i can help." he starts helping moving the tinier things around as Hroror does most of the heavy lifting "I can go into town aftr chores tomorrow to see what I other people in town have that we cna use. I will also call my brother after you guys are set up to tell him of the situation." he stops and shoots them a look "I already told Horror but I am going to need somekind of story to tell others around here. THe multiverse isn't a known thing and I honestly don't want to get involved with that too much." and he waits.

Horror and him share a look before they look back at Crop "We will... figure somethign out..."

Killer nods "We will have to talk with the others. see what we can say and get a general idea." Killer figures they can sell it as being one of their babybones having been stolen six years ago. Probably either Dust or Cross as both have purple magic and would fit genetic wise. Can probably fit somekind of abusive ex in there that would explain Nightmare's nervous and scared reactions.

He will offer it as an explanation to the others later.

Crop nods "I will for now just say some friends came by with a babybones and you guys aren't willing to tell me exactly what happened yet. Should buy us more time but also enable to get someone to come to make sure he is okay."

Cold dread and Killer growls "What the hell are you talking about?!"

Crop blinks "A healer? Horror said that there was magic at play that caused him to become an adult before and now a child again. I can only imagine what kind of strain and restriction that places on a child's magic and soul."

A new dread. a fear he hadn't considered.

Did the magical protection harm Nightmare's own magic?!

Horror nods "And a healer would be able to make sure he is okay?"

Crop relaxes and smiles "hopefully. But for that I am going to have to need somekind of explanation or they will worry any damage or wounds have been newly inflected." and he shoots them a look "Which... could cause trouble with the family situation you guys have established at the moment."

Hroror frowns and Killer knows they both know what Crop implied. If someone thinks they are actively abusing him they will try to take Nightmare away from them for his own safety. The fact they all have love and aren't the most... friendly looking monsters will work against them.

Crop finishes putting some spare clothes in the closet "Again, I can buy some time with vague answers but from there on the explanation is up to you four." he looks around the room "This good for now? Sorry there isn't anymore space but Papyrus will come back soon and need his own room."

Horror thanks him again and says it will work just fine. Crop welcomes them to use the shower and bathroom as much as they want and that his kitchen is open for them to use whenever.

After that is is mostly a blurr. They finish getting the attic ready for them and Killer takes his turn to shower after Dust as Horror and crop work together on some quick dinner for them all.

The meal itself is mostly silent as Horror tries to coax Nightmare into eating. Nightmare still has the bad habit of eating too little or not eating at all when he is nervous or anxious, which is often.

Killer is still not a fan of how Crop seem to stare mystified and in awe at Nightmare. completely enchanted by the sight of the small babybones.

soon dinner is ready and Killer gets ready for bed quickly as Dust takes over most of the duties to get Nightmare ready, having had the most practise up to this point.

Killer just lays in the bed waiting when Dust comes by to drop Nightmare off with him "get him comfortable." and Dust leaves to get ready for bed himself.

Killer immediantly hugs the tiny form close and purrs "busy day today."

Nightmare hums sleepily nad give shim the stink eye but Killer grins as he pokes one of the little cheeks. Nightmare grumbles as he pushes at the hand poking him "Killer..."

Killer chuckles as he hugs the other close "Tiny grumpy nugget." Killer laughs as he sees Nightmare's little skull explode with a purple blush as he pushes at him.

"Killer stop that" it is more of a whine than a real demand and Killer nuzzles the skull with a purr. Killer can admit it is amazing to just lay in a bed. feeling clena and having a Nightmare near while content, full of food, and clean. only thing better would have been to have him wrapped up in a warm blanket directly after a very warm bed. but Killer only had that happen once before.

For now he just holds the tiny being near and relaxes when his own soul is right next to the comfortable babybones.

Honestly? All of this was worth it to have Nightmare clean, well fed and ready to sleep in an actual bed. Killer will admit to himself that the others were right with them having to find a place to settle, at least for a short while.

By the time that Dust returns and joins him Nightmare is already sound asleep and Killer is close to going to sleep himself. He falls asleep before either Cross and Horror join them.

------

Cross finally finished cleaning up himself and feels so many times better. Cross can admit he has problems with being dirty and is a neat-freak as Killer likes to call it. Cross doesnt mind it much because despite his teasing Killer also makes sure they go to places and by places where Cross can get the time to clean himself up.

Cross was a bit unsure about this plan at first but with the absolute faith both Horror and Dust had shown in the plan it had been a quick decision to trust them on this.

and they had been right!

The sans, crop, had been nice and helpful and immediantly saw Nightmare as the child he was. Which honestly is amazing and the only correct answer in Cross's mind. He also apologised for only having one bed available to them but Horror had just shrugged and siad it wouldn't be the first time they slept in a pile. Crop had been confused but didn't demand an explanation. Which is good because Cross doubts any of them have an explanation for why they all feel so comfortable with eahc other and will gravitate to lay together.

The fresh ingredients and meal made with it had also been welcome and even needed by how clearly all of them had needed a calm evening. Seeing the others relax had been a welcome sight and Cross takes all their dirty clothes to the washer.

Cross takes time to put their things in the washer and turning it on the right cycle. They will probably have some clothes dye mix-ups but Cross isn't going to seperate it into three different loads and hog the washer and run up the electric AND water bill just to run three tiny washes when it fits in one.

Cross nods to himself as the washer gets to work and makes his way up the stairs, hearing Horror move around in the kitchen. No doubt cleaning up and preparing some food for tomorrow in advance. Cross walks up the set of stairs with a certain excitement, he hadn't seen the attic yet as Horror and Killer took care of getting their things up there and getting them all installed while Cross helped Dust with Nightmare.

Cross feels the clothes he is wearing. it is just old cotton t-shirt and old sweats but Cross feels so much better. Just the idea of not sleepign in his everyday clothes will be so nice!

He opens the door and moves silently into the dark room. THe window is still open to let in the fresh summer air and Cross sight finds the three sleeping in the bed.

Cross walks over and smiles as he sees Dust, Killer and Nightmare all sound asleep. Nightmare is held captive in Killer's arms but lays with his skull right against Dust's own skull. Dust lays mostly hidden under the blanket wiht Nightmare and Cross is pretty sure that Dust is rolled up around nightmare as much as he physically can with Killer being where he is.

Killer has two arms tightly around Nightmare but his skull lays higher on the pillow than Dust, making it seem both are slotted together.

The three of them hardly take up a third of the room on the bed like this but Cross can't get himself to lay in it just yet. Not with the sudden turbulance in his soul. He quickly, but silently, leaves the room and rushes out of the house.

He stands on the porch panting and shaking. What are they doing? They are going to mess this up beyond believe and-

A hand on his shoulder. Horror leans with his back against the fench and stares at him "What is wrong?"

Cross chuckles and lays his skull on the wood of the porch fench. It is cool in the night air "We are messing everythign up."

Horror tilts his skull "I mean. I think we have been doing alright."

Cross laughs as he holds his skull "alright?! We have been dragging a babybones through different universes and dimensions for the last two months, you know, after abandoning him for a month?!" How is that okay?! This is the first time that Cross saw Nightmare completely clean, fed and comfortable in a fucking bed. Three. Months!

Horror doesn't disagree with him and just rubs his back.

Silence around them and Cross groans "What are we going to do?"

Horror shrugs "Same as before? figure it out step by step and try to do right."

Cross pulls his skull away from the wood and looks at him "We couldn't even feed him regularly. we had no place to stay. We were homeless Horror."

Horror nods "And we will have to figure out a plan for that now."

Cross feels himself shake as the anxiety returns "How?! We have no money. we have no papers or passports. we have no plan. nothing!"

Horror gives him a calm look "We got a place to stay right now to figure it out."

Cross groans as he rubs his face "Great. just taking stuff."

hroror shrugs "We can help Crop on his farm as thanks." he shoots him a look "It wasn't like it was that different wiht Nightmare before. we did somework for him and in trade could live there and get things." he raises a brow "If it makes it easier. See it as a temporary job with included housing."

Cross blinks as he considers that. it... sounds better than just getting things and owning someone for a lot of things. he gives a slow nod.

Horror nods as he continues "As for the other things. we are still... figuring stuff out. We ar e new to all of this and didn't exactly have places to stay when we started this whole thing. I think we did okay." he shrugs and nudges him back inside "lets sleep. You are tired and it is making you anxious. Tomorrow we can talk with Crop about how this will all work and go from there."

Cross is unsure before nodding and following Horror back inside. Horror locks the door behind him before going upstairs. They get to the bed and Horror gets comfortable with practised ease and Cross follows his lead. a bit of rearranging and Cross feels himself relax as he lays near his... friends? colleagues? fellow co-parents? Cross doesn't think about it much longer.

Killer had once compared them to cats for their habit of laying on and enar one another and Cross can't help but agree. it helps to hear them and feel them close as Cross tries to sleep in an unfamiliar place.

He drifts off rather quickly as exhaustion makes itself known.

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First Drabble Prev Drabble over here Next Drabble

And there we have the drabble on how their first night/day went when they started to stay with Crop!

I think they did okay :D

[lunacrescentmoon]

Ok I'm starting early- inspiration hits like a freight train at 1am! ;w; I need to sleep but I am writing instead with a headache-

One Small Dream belongs to the amazing @calcium-cat so go read the original and support the creator

Dream and Noot belong to Jokublog

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OneSmallDreamcember Prompt 1 - Dejavu

"Nighty?" Dreams voice was small. More quiet than normal.

"Yes Dream?" Nightmare replied, not looking at him but working on some paperwork...

".. why are you working again?.. I wanted to show you something!"

"Because, work is important. Now, what did you want to show me?.."

"I drew this for you!"

"Oh?.. heh... I see you included the entire gang this time... and... who's that?.." Nightmare gestured to a different figure with 2 triangles on its head along with... what he assumed was a tail of some kind.

"Oh, a girl I've seen in my dreams before!"

"Come again?"

"Yeah! She sometimes appears for just split seconds... I never get to speak with her...."

".. you're probably imagining things....."

"No, I'm not!"

The world began to fade around them. Dream jolted, being the only one to notice. Had the world always looked so... wispy?..

He felt himself falling, but... infinitely... like it wouldn't stop...

"Dream! Wake up! We got breakfast!" Cross' voice echoed through the hall.

Dream opened his eyes and blinked a few times, giving a small squeak of shock until he realised where he was... his bed.... the castle..... he wasn't falling in a white space....

Letting out a sigh of relief, he jumped out of the bed, running toward the door and opening it excitedly just as Cross reached it... Cross then proceeded to skid into the room and hit the plushie pile in the corner....

"Ow!" He yelped, sitting up a little and rubbing his head.

Where had Dream seen this exact thing?

"Crossy! Are you alright?!" Dream raced over, trying to help him up the best he could.

"I-I'm fine...... just........ a bit shaken......." Cross rubbed his head from pain, but otherwise looked ok.

"Well... you said we have breakfast... how long was I asleep?.."

"Longer than usual squirt..." Killer walked in, smirking at Cross and the now messy pile of plushies. "I see someone decided to play bowling ball...."

"No, shut your mouth..." Cross growled.

Dream walked out to the kitchen, about to get in the usual chair, but he froze... he had heard Killer and Cross say those exact words before.... while he was looking this direction thinking about breakfast.... but when?..

Breaking himself of the cycle, he raced to Nightmare's room. Immediately he went to Nightmare's chair, saying something so fast Nightmare didn't have a chance to process it.

"Dream! Slow down..... I'm here... what's going on?.." Night was hoping to get a better grasp on the situation...

"Well... I heard Kiki and Crossy discussing something... the exact thing I've heard before........ and..... it.... was when I was doing the exact same thing I had done before...." Dream explained as best as he could. Even he didn't understand this!

Nightmare blinked a few times..... what had his brother meant?

Then he got it.

"Oh... Oh, I get it now.... Dream.... you were having a Dejavu moment..."

"A day-sa-what?"

"Dejavu.... it's when... you dream something.... and the next day or days later.... it happens in reality........" Nightmare had to think a few times on why it happened, and he himself never found a book on it to catch up on latest discoveries... so he never knew why Dejavu existed....

"So I can see the future?!" Dream smiled excitedly, bright eyes shimmering in the fire light.

"... yes, Dream, but not at will... you can only see it sometimes....."

A figure in the shadows wearing a cloak smiled, thinking to herself "you will meet me one day.... Dreamscape...."

-----☆☆☆☆☆☆----------

And that is day 1! ;w; hope you excuse the different idea to what everyone is probably doing, I just wanted some wholesome brother explanations and the classic Killer and Cross having a discussion- XD

[shyshywritesstuff]

First day on parole!

Yancy x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: none

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

Todays the day. He was finally getting parole. And even though you were waiting in your car to pick him up for parole you couldn't help but hum the song that was about him not wanting to make parole. It was a catchy song though that's for sure though. You were told earlier by the prison guards to park your car in the lower parking lot next to the release area and that's what you did.

'He should be coming out any minute now' you thought to yourself. You've been waiting there for what? 15 minutes now? You didn't mind waiting for him of course, you were just really excited to see him again.

Another 10 minutes passed and you saw him being escorted outside, with a guard following him close behind. You saw a pile of cards and notes in Yancy`s hand. He kept every single one you gave him. Well, you kept all the gifts he gave you too of course.

Once you saw him and that guard getting closer you got out of your car and started walking towards him to hug him. As soon as he saw you, Yancy basically sprinted towards you and gave you the biggest hug he's ever given anyone.

"Oh I've missed youse!" he said tightening his grip, scared that if he lets go he'll never see you again.

You peaked over his shoulder and saw the guard happily walking away. The guards loved Yancy and they were happy to see him this happy.

Yancy released you from his crazy tight hug suddenly and put his hands on your shoulders. "I've got so much to tell you and the rest of the gang misses youse too, y'know."You smiled as he said that, excited to hear whatever prison stories he has. He looked towards your car "but uh, let's get outta here first"

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

"THIS IS WHERE YOUSE LIVES?" Yancy said very loudly as he walked into your home. It wasn't anything too fancy but Yancy was impressed by it nonetheless.

You giggled at him as he started looking around at all the decorations you had around your living room. As he was doing so, your cat came running out to greet him. Yancy looked down and immediately starting petting it.

"Aww I didn't know you were one of them cat lover types." You shrugged and smiled joining Yancy in petting your cat. "Well, I kinda had to be after this one followed me home while I went a walk. Now he goes on every walk with me." You said scratching your cat's ears.

"Well, what did you name him?" Yancy asked you, still petting the now purring cat.

"Illinois. A fitting name for a little adventurer like him". You told him.

"Huh. Okay." Yancy didn't understand how you pulled the name Illinois from an adventurous cat, but he wasn't gonna question it. He watched as your cat walked over to the couch and laid on it.

"I'm guessing that's where I'll be sleeping for now?" He asked you, hoping you'd let him crash there cause he had literally no where else to go.

"What? No, Yancy I'm not gonna let you sleep on my couch." He looked hurt for a moment so you quickly continued. "I mean I have somewhere more comfy and with less cat hair that you can stay."

"You do? Where?"

"Follow me"

You led him to the extra bedroom in your small house. The room was now decorated with stuff Yancy would like: a desk to write songs and such at, a couple microphones, and even some cool led lights, and a disco ball. Perfect for making musical numbers. Yancy was looking around the room in awe. He's never had anyone do anything this nice for him.

"This used to be my old roommates room till they moved out., But its yours now I suppose." You told him as he started playing around with the lights. But he turned them off and looked towards you again. "You did this for me?" He then hugged you again, muttering something about how he doesn't deserve someone as kind and thoughtful as you. You told him to shut up and he did, accepting the love you were giving him.

Being your roommate was gonna be fun. Yancy had so many plans with you already too. He couldn't wait to write songs with you and dance with you and hopefully not get sent to prison again because he had to admit, being free wasn't all that bad, especially with you.

[iridecsense]

𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦 - 𝘮.

⤷ summary: “You’re blue, I'm red, I wanna kiss your neck and make you purple all over.”

ꕥ word count: 33.7k ꕥ pairing: credence barebone | fem!reader  ꕥ genre: fluff, angst, smut ꕥ rating: 18+ ꕥ warnings: mentions of physical and religious abuse, mild violence and angst ꕥ kinks: femdom, masturbation ꕥ author’s note:  Credence’s first time requested by anonymous. Experimenting a new writing style with this one, I hope you still like it! This is very soft, but also sinful. I always suggest using Interactive Fics extension on Google Chrome and Firefox when reading my fics. Enjoy. ;) ꕥ key: (y/n) - first name (l/n) - last name (e/c) - eye color (h/c) - hair color (s/c) - skin color

There are very few moments in life worth living for. Most things in life are mundane and repetitive. Humans aren’t as complex as they like to think. Humans are simple. Without realizing, it they put themselves into a routine. Eat, work, sleep, repeat. Eat, sleep, work, repeat. Eat, sleep, work, repeat.

Albert Einstein once said, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.” And yet, most humans never fall into insanity. How is it humanity survives such a dreary existence? The answer itself is simple. It is because despite living simple, tedious, monotonous lives, they still have those few moments.

Credence wanted nothing more than to experience one of these moments. Life for Credence was human. It repeated on an infinite loop, no matter how much he prayed for it to stop. Unlike most people’s lives, Credence’s routine wasn’t something to accept comfortably. There was no eat, sleep, work, repeat for him. His day started with an unsavory meal. It was usually porridge or stale bread. Then he would go out and hand out his “mother’s” flyers while she ranted in the streets. After that, they’d return to the orphanage where he’d surely get beat for doing something wrong. After being denied dinner, he would return to his room and cry silently in his bed, trying to dream of a life better than the one he lived. Then repeat.

Today was supposed to be no different. Today, Credence would have to hand out flyers around Times Square until nightfall. He hated handing out flyers in Times Square. It was bright, loud, and crowded, and the rich people from The Eggs always came down to shop and attend the cinema.

Rich people are assholes.

For the most part, Credence was invisible amidst the hustle and bustle of the square. People were too busy chatting amongst themselves or rushing to the nearest store or restaurant to even bat an eye at him. He didn’t mind it. He welcomed invisibility with open arms. Being seen usually ended with new bruises and scars. That's what happens when you’re an outsider, and Credence was an outsider in every sense of the word. He was an outsider to the rich people that pushed past him on the sidewalk, an outsider to the orphanage, and an outsider to himself. 

So, the lowly outsider stood hunched over in the middle of the sidewalk next to a cinema. Above him was a large marquee lit up by five hundred flashing bulbous lights. Mobs of people dappered up in evening dresses and suits, tipping their fedoras and clutching their mink coats excitedly entered the theatre. Credence looked at the flyers in his hands. Mary Lou gave him three hundred flyers to give out, and he barely gave out thirty. Most of the ones he did manage to force into someone’s hand ended up on the ground not ten feet away from him. They couldn't even bother to find a trash can. He wouldn’t dare return home with such a disappointing turnout.

The sun had long since set. The roar of the night became corrupted with wealthy party-goers. The Square was alive with chatter and street music. The streets were filled with intoxicated drivers flashing their fancy topless automobiles and the pretty women that shouted inside them. It was rather scenic, and Credence often found himself staring longingly at all the people whose lives seemed much happier than his own. It was one of the few ways he could pass the time.

He would watch couples walk the street hand in hand, seemingly in love. The woman would occasionally point out something on display she fancied and sweetly coherence her partner to buy it for her—to which they always did. He would observe a gang of college gentlemen around his age hop from bar to bar, obnoxiously laughing and roughhousing in the streets, cat-calling passing dames. In his mind, he was one of them. He pretended he lived in a world where he wasn’t an orphan and grew up in a wealthy family. He would have a mother who loved him and a father who was proud of him. He would go to college and make friends with other boys. Maybe he’d fall in love with a girl along the way. Someone sweet to please the folks back home. Then it would be him parading down the streets with a pretty girl around his arms in Times Square, and some other poor guy would be miserable in his place.

As his eyes wandered the streets, watching the snippets of other people's lives and inserting himself in them, his eyes landed on her across the street. She stepped onto the sidewalk in front of a boutique. Her hair fell around her shoulders in waves, neatly placed under a velvet green beret. She had on a slim fitting wool coat with mink trim over a lace-covered silk dress that shined in the night’s light. When she began to walk, his eyes followed her down the street like magnets. The way she seemed to carry herself was unlike the others around her. She wasn’t pink with liquor, stumbling in her heels on the pavement. Each step she took was one of elegance and confidence. He couldn't look away.

“Hey, watch it, punk!”

Credence found himself shoved to his hands and knees on the ground, the flyers in his hands dispersing in the air around him. He winced in pain and looked up to see a man angrily peering down at him.

“Watch where you’re goin’, freak!” The man cursed at him.

Credence kept his head down. “I’m sorry, sir.”

The man sucked his teeth and purposely stepped on some flyers in front of him as he walked by, pressing them into the wet sidewalk. Only when he was sure the man had gone did he find it safe to move. He ignored the soreness in the palms of his hands and tried his best to salvage as many flyers as he could. Passersby couldn't have cared less about the papers they ripped and crumpled under their perfectly pointed shoes. He picked up what little there was left unscathed—about a hundred at least. He was lucky most of them were still stacked together. He went to collect the last salvageable stack across from him when another pair of (s/c) dainty hands reached for them.

Credence’s eyes landed on a pair of green pumps pointed at him. His eyes trailed up past long legs shielded from the cold by nude stockings, green silk, and tawny fur until they met painted red lips and glossy (e/c) eyes. Up close, she was much more captivating. He could now make out her soft, round features and see how her (h/c) curls perfectly framed her face. Her cheeks were dusted a lush red. Whether it was from the early winter chill, or a detail of her makeup was unknown. Either way, she was stunning. It took him longer than it should have for him to notice the flyers she was holding out for him to take.

Credence awkwardly stumbled to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on the tips of her shoes to avoid her gaze. Even in his slouched state, he towered over her, but somehow he still appeared small.

“I saw that.” Her warm voice filled his ears, catching him off guard.

He lifted his head to look at her once more. “What?”

The girl looked in the direction the man from earlier had left and frowned.  “The prick who knocked you over was half-seas over! He could barely tell his left foot from his right! If he had, he would have seen that it was his fault knocking you to the ground like that.”

Credence didn’t know what to say. That was the most anyone had ever said to him without spewing insults his way. Even more peculiar was that the strange girl talking to him was trying to defend him. His awkward speechlessness didn’t seem to phase her in the slightest. Instead, her targeted vexed expression relaxed into a warm smile.

She urged the flyers towards him once more. “Sorry about your papers. I don’t think there’s much left to save.”

He carefully took the papers from her hands, noting how perfectly manicured her nails were. “It’s okay... thank you.”

“No need to thank me. No sense in being praised for common decency, right?”

Credence found himself speechless. He wasn't sure how to respond to such a statement. It was definitely something he should be grateful for. Most people wouldn’t look twice at him struggling on the street, let alone go out of their way to help.

The girl spoke through his silence. “You don’t talk much, do you?” She chuckled.

He shamefully bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” she quickly assured him. “Sometimes, I think people talk too much. I don’t think people should say things they don’t need to, otherwise, words lose all valuable meaning. You know what I mean?”

He nodded slowly. “I think so.”

She seemed pleased with his answer, her smile growing ever so slightly. It wasn’t long before it was replaced with another frown. Unlike before, this wasn’t a frown of annoyance, but concern. Her brows turned upward and her red lips parted to let out a sharp gasp. She looked at him clearly for the first time, her eyes wandered over his slender form and taking in his appearance.

“Goodness! Aren’t you cold?” She asked, her voice laced with worry.

Credence shrugged half-heartedly. He was used to the cold by now. He only had a handful of clothes to begin with. He didn't have the luxury of having clothes that match the changing weather, he could only wear whatever clothes fit him from the donation pile. The warmest garment he obtained this winter was an old navy blue suit best designed for autumn’s chill, but useless against winter’s cold. She found it hard to believe he stayed in the cold for so long without freezing to death. Credence thought that was a bit of an exaggeration. It was a particularly cold November night, enough to keep the patches of ice and snow that had been shoveled to the gutters intact. With every shaky breath he took, a puff of white mist would follow. His nose and the tips of his ears were permanently colored red and, given his natural pale complexion, made him look rather sickly. But, he bore through it because he had experienced far worse.

Without warning, the girl took the liberty of placing her palms on the back of his hands. The gentle action was so alien, he flinched when he felt her warm skin.

“Your hands are like ice!” She gasped. “They’re two degrees short from falling off!”

It must have been true because the feeling of her hands was enough to send a fiery warmth throughout his body. Such affection was so foreign to him, he began to doubt it really happened. It wouldn't have been the first time his mind played tricks on him. Perhaps he was home in his bed, lucidly dreaming about a chance encounter with a pretty woman. In a moment, he would wake up, and the warm feeling of a woman’s touch would turn cold, and he’d find himself alone in his room again.

His theory was swiftly disproven when he felt her hands gently squeeze his. As if she had the brightest idea of the decade, the woman’s face lit up.

She took a step closer. “Say, why don’t I get you some tea to warm you up? There’s a coffee shop still open a few blocks away—I could drive you in my Ford!”

Credence blushed and swallowed. His eyes darted around nervously. “I’m not sure I should...” He mumbled.

“We can stand here in the streets like a couple of gulls if you’d like, but I’m not going to leave you out here to freeze, so you might as well say yes,” she smirked.

He wanted to say yes. But there was a voice inside him that warned him not to go. It was the same nagging tone Mary Lou barked in his ear. His mind spiraled, spewing scenarios of his adopted mother’s fury. He should be home by now. She never liked it when he returned home late. She would beat him again. She might even ice him—something she did when she was truly furious with him. The thought of it made his blood run cold.

“I-I can’t,” he stammered. “M-Mother is expecting me home—she’ll be wondering where I am.”

The woman’s once playful expression slowly faded. Her brows gathered at the center of her forehead and her smile faded. Credence was trembling and stuttering, helplessly trying to explain why he had to return home. His words slurred together into a tremulous speech. Passing pedestrians gave patronizing stares, actively avoiding the pair and whispering amongst themselves. The woman placed a comforting hand on Credence’s shoulder, silencing him almost immediately.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” She said softly. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to upset you by it.”

She looked him in his eyes and offered a kind smile. There was a skip of his heart. A strange feeling weighed in his chest he had never felt before.

“Why don’t I drive you?” She suggested. “That way you can be home twice as fast!”

Credence took a moment to think about it. He found it increasingly impossible to say no. Against his better judgment, he found himself wanting to extend their encounter, if even just for a minute. He had the smallest inference that if he said no, it would disappoint her. The thought of disappointing her was something he didn't want to do. He felt obligated to appease her. She had shown him a kindness that he may never get again. He thought he could at least keep her pleased.

“Okay,” he relented.

The girl grinned up at him and linked her arm around his. His cheeks grew warm, and he tucked his chin to his chest to hide his blush. Not that she would notice either way. She gingerly led him down the street, trying to engage him with small talk. He tried to listen, but he would get distracted whenever he felt her chest brush up against him. She was so close and so warm. Her touch burned through the thin material of his jacket and made his skin tingle. He could smell her perfume, like lavender and vanilla.

Such an alluring scent it was. It smelled familiar and sweet in its flowery nature. It reminded him of the transition from spring to summer, when the flowers became the most vibrant and fruit ripened to perfect sweetness. He wished he could smell it every day. It would be a refreshing change from the stench of mildew and boiled cabbage he often smelled. He wondered if she always smelled so sweet.

“So, what’s with the pamphlets? Are you a part of that Second Salemers organization?” she asked, pulling him out of his fantasies. He looked down at her and saw her looking up at him expectedly. He couldn’t help but grow hot with embarrassment.

“Y-yes,” he answered.

“Really? So, you believe in witches?” She teasingly wiggled her fingers in his face.

"My mother does,” He answered.

“How interesting,” she thought aloud. “I can’t say that I believe in witches, but if they do exist I wouldn’t mind.”

“You wouldn’t?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, they’re human like us, right? People tend to demonize things they don’t understand. Just because they’re different doesn't mean we have to fear or prosecute them. I think we should embrace each other’s differences and learn to appreciate them, rather than forcing everyone to assimilate to one idea of normalcy. If we do that, then no one would be unique. We’d all be the same.”

He listened closely as she spoke. He was absolutely fascinated by her. It was rather profound, the way she thought. Most people would disagree with her sentiments, especially his mother. The world Credence knew was built on a system of separation. A system that separated classes, races, sexes, and the able-bodied—a system he was a victim to. Never once had he met someone who desired to rid of it just as much as he did, and he certainly didn’t expect to hear such scrutiny from someone who seemed to benefit from it.

When she finished her societal criticism, she stopped in her tracks and craned her neck up to face Credence.

“Excuse my rambling,” she flushed. “I talk nonsense when I go deep in thought. Don’t mind me, I probably sound crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Credence spoke up. “I wish everyone thought the way you think.”

Their eyes locked in a moment of tenderness. His bold sentiments were enough to make her heart skip a beat; unbeknownst to him. Their intimate trance was broken when a passing car flashed its blinding lights in their eyes, causing the girl to release her grip around Credence’s arm. The loss of contact made his arm feel too light; as if someone had taken a piece of his arm away.

The girl let out a sheepish chuckle. “Well, this is it,” she said as she walked over to the luxurious motor car parked on the side of the street. Luxurious seemed like an insult of a descriptor for the magnificent opulence of the machine. The streetlight illuminated the pearl-colored metal that matched the white-rimmed tires. Gold embellishments lined the rim. Tawny leather seats contrasted the exterior and matched the fabric roof. It was something Credence had only seen in advertisements.

“She’s a bit much, right?”

Credence hadn’t realized how apparent the astonishment written on his face was. He expected the girl to laugh at him, but the girl didn’t find joy in his culture shock. She was nervous, as if she were ashamed of her possession, like he had just discovered her most shameful secret.

“She was a gift from my father,” she felt the need to explain. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful or anything, I truly am. It’s just that I would never have bought something so ritzy for myself.”

“I like it,” said Credence.

His words seemed to relax her otherwise tense demeanor. “I’m glad you do,” she smiled as she opened the door. He watched her slide into the driver's seat. He approached the machine cautiously, eyeing the foreign object skeptically. The girl watched him closely, an amused smirk curling her lips.

“You’ve never ridden in a car before, have you?” She asked. Credence shook his head.

“I promise there’s nothing to worry about,” she chuckled. “I happen to be an excellent driver. My father wouldn’t have given me one so expensive if I wasn’t.”

This was true. Such a beautiful car wouldn’t be gifted to someone who would evidently wreck it. The girl pats the empty passenger seat invitingly, urging him to get inside.

Credence slid into the passenger seat, the cool leather seeping through the thin fabric of his suit, sending shivers down his spine.

“Here.” The girl reached in the back seat of the car and pulled out a large grey blanket. “The car will get warmer as we drive, but this should be good for now.”

Credence placed his papers on his lap and reached for the blanket.

“Wait,” she stopped him, a small frown appearing on her features. “You’re bleeding.”

Credence followed her stare to his left hand. He turned his palm upward to find the healing wounds on his palms had reopened. He didn’t notice the sting of the cuts before, but now his hand burned with the slightest movement. He couldn’t help but feel exposed. He hated his hands. They were ugly. Permanently blemished with raised scars that formed from healing and reopening and healing and reopening at contact with his mother's belt. It was unsightly. He shied away from her, mortified. She must’ve found them just as repulsive.

But the girl didn’t seem phased by his calloused and scarred hands at all. She didn’t hesitate to reach inside her breast pocket and pull out a pink handkerchief to wrap around Credence’s hand. Again he could feel her warmth. Her soft hands caressed his skin, pulling him closer. She handled him gently, delicately folding and wrapping the silk fabric around his cuts. She glanced at him as she did so, only to find him avoiding her gaze with his chin tucked into his shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered as she tended to him.

“You’re sorry?” She let out a breathy chuckle. “And what are you sorry for, exactly?”

“I-I don’t know,” he stammered. “For making you drive me home. For ruining your handkerchief,” he said.

The girl sighed as she tightened the cloth around his hand and tied it into a bow to keep it in place. “Bunny, you’re not making me do anything. I insisted, remember?” She reminded him. Credence felt the entirety of his face grow hot. He turned to face her again, only to be met with the same (e/c) eyes and kind smile she had before. His heart felt as though it were beating a mile a minute.

“And don’t worry about my handkerchief,” she adds. “I have dozens of them. They’re more for looks anyway, I never use them.”

Credence nodded and silently thanked her. She gave his hand another squeeze before leaning back in her seat and starting the car. The car made a sound like a lion and roared to life. The seats trembled beneath them, and the headlights lit the road ahead. When the car jerked into drive, Credence felt uneasy. She drove the car well, and he suspected that she was driving at a slower rate for his benefit, but the feeling of the car moving made his stomach churn with excitement and fear. He walked everywhere he went. He’d taken the subway once before when he was younger, but somehow this was different. He fidgeted in his seat, finding anything to distract himself from the tight feeling in his stomach. His eyes fixated on his hands, brushing his fingers against the smooth fabric of the handkerchief. It was colorfully embroidered with flowers and lacey patterns. He followed the design with his eyes until they came upon two scripted letters embroidered in gold on the corner that wasn’t tied into a knot.

“Are these your initials?” He asked to distract himself with small talk.

The girl gasped dramatically. “I never introduced myself, did I? How rude of me! I’m practically a stranger and here I am driving you around Manhattan without giving you a proper introduction.”

The girl took one hand off the wheel and held it out in front of him. “My name’s (y/n) (l/n).”

Credence took her hand and shook it lightly. “I’m Credence. Credence Barebone.”

“Credence. What an odd name. I like it,” she grinned before pulling her hand back. “So, where am I taking you, Credence?”

He told her he lived in the old chapel on Pike Street. She fell flustered while trying to explain she didn’t know exactly where that was. Credence then told her she was going the right way, and if she kept going straight, he would tell her when to turn. While they drove, she did her best to get to know Credence. He answered every question she asked with a short and vague response. She didn’t ask him many questions to begin with. She mostly talked about herself or the people she knew, like her family and friends. Almost everything reminded her of them.

He figured she did it to make him feel more comfortable. He didn’t mind. He enjoyed hearing her talk. While driving, she saw a dress in a boutique and mentioned that her friend, Darla, would love to have a dress just like it. When they passed a tea shop, it reminded of her mother, who only drank earl grey tea; which, to her, is the most boring of teas. On the sidewalk, there was a stray cat running into an alleyway. She told him how much she wanted a pet cat as a child, but she couldn’t get one because her father was allergic.

He couldn’t help but be enthralled by her. The more she talked, the more relaxed he became. He stole glances at her when she wasn’t looking. Watching her lips move as she talked, outlining the bridge of her nose and the curve of her cheek. He had been staring so intently he hadn’t even realized she’d asked him a question.

“Credence?” Her voice filled his ears.

“Yes?” He answered.

“I asked if I turn here.”

Credence turned to look out the window and saw that they had stopped at the corner of Pike Street. It was a quiet neighborhood filled with old apartments that had dim windows and unfriendly doors. Sticking out like a tabby cat among tigers was the Church of the Second Salemers. A rickety thing dwarfed by the buildings that surrounded it. Credence’s heart sank. If only the ride was a little longer.

“I can get out here,” he told her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

Her lips twitched into a bittersweet smile. “Alright,” she simpered. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” He said truthfully.

There was a beat of silence. The two sat awkwardly, not really knowing how to say goodbye. Credence stared at his hands in his lap and began to untie the handkerchief.

“Keep it,” she stopped him before he could. “To remember me by.”

Would this really be the last time? He knew that she meant nothing by it, but hoped he didn't have to remember her. He wanted to see her again. He didn’t want it to end.

He gripped the cloth tightly in his hand. “Thank you.”

He reluctantly opened the car door and stepped onto the slushy street, closing the door behind him. She waved at him through the window, to which he returned in a less enthusiastic manner. He took a step back onto the sidewalk and watched as she drove down the street until she disappeared around the corner.

“Goodbye... (y/n),” he whispered.

It had been weeks since Credence’s chance encounter, and ever since his mind was consumed with thoughts and fantasies of (y/n) (l/n). Everything reminded him of her. The melting snow on the ground, the smell of flowers that mimicked her perfume when he passed the floristry, passing women in mink coats and tea shops; they all emulated her.

He often thought about how different things would have been if he did what he wanted that night. Would she be with him now had he gone to the café when she’d offered? Would she have liked to know him? Would she have enjoyed his company? The more he thought about it, the more he wished he’d taken the risk—his mother be damned.

Now all he had were memories and theories of what could have been. Though, fantasizing became his new favorite pass time. Reminiscing about her was one of the only things that gave light to his otherwise dark, mundane life. Like right now, he was thinking of what it would be like to make her laugh while scooping porridge into bowls for the orphans to eat.

He thought her laugh would sound feathery and jovial; the kind of laugh that makes you want to smile and laugh with her.

“You’re smiling.”

Credence was pulled from his thoughts by his sister, Chastity. He looked to the side and saw her smirking into the pot. “What?”

“It’s not just today,” she says. “You’ve been... different lately. Happier, I think. Always smiling to yourself. Did something happen?”

“No.”

“Did you meet someone or something?” She persisted.

Credence scoffed. “How could I have met someone?” He refuted.

Chastity she glimpsed at Credence skeptically. “I guess not,” she hummed, much to his relief.

“Doesn’t explain why you’re blushing, though,” she smirked.

Credence’s cheeks burst into flames as he attempted to sputter an explanation. Chastity giggled to herself, finding amusement in teasing him.

“What’s going on, children?”

The sickeningly sweet voice was enough to raise the hair on the back of their necks and shudder their hearts. They turned around, craning their necks up to the banister. Mary Lou Barebone towered over them just as menacingly as she could in her own prim and proper way.

“Nothing, mother,” Chastity answered for them. “Credence was just telling me a joke.”

“This is no time to be joking,” she scolded. “We have a very important meeting today with Father Blackwell, and I will not allow distractions. We can't lose focus. This is our chance to spread our message to the church— to the city! You should be preparing, not laughing.”

“I’m sorry, mother,” Credence apologized.

“Don’t let it happen again,” she warned, before sauntering away.

Even in her absence, Credence couldn’t find the will to relax the rest of the morning. The threat of her looming presence was far too great. After the orphans had finished their meal and left, Chastity washed all the dishes while he cleaned the dining hall. Once they finished their menial tasks, Modesty came downstairs to tell them Mary Lou wanted them to hurry and dress in their best attire for Father Blackwell.

Father Blackwell was the priest of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. He was the most famous priest in New York City and the priest of the mayor. Mary Lou was very anxious to present her case to him. According to her, once Father Blackwell hears her pleas and shares it with the church, the city would finally begin to take her seriously and put a stop to the heresy festering right under their noses.

So she believed.

It was Sunday. Today they would attend a mid-day service and attempt to get counsel with the priest. Though, Credence doubted Father Blackwell would even see them. As he got dressed, he looked himself over in the mirror. His ‘best’ attire was a dark plum suit so dark it looked black if you weren't paying attention. It made his already pale skin look even fairer and darkened the color of his raven hair and russet eyes. It was the only suit that fit him perfectly and had few blemishes. He’d probably look like a proper gentleman if his mahogany shoes weren't so terribly worn due to them being the only pair he owned.  

He took the matching hat off his dresser and put it on. Hidden underneath it was the pink handkerchief. He took the piece of fabric in his hands and held it up to his nose. It smelled like her. Remnants of her perfume still lingered between its stitches. He was grateful she allowed him to keep her handkerchief. He felt foolish for ever trying to part with it. It was the only proof he had that she existed; that their brief night encounter had truly happened.

“What are you doing?”

Credence instinctively hid the cloth behind his back, turning around to see Mary Lou standing in his doorway.

“I was straightening my tie,” he says, his voice wavering slightly.

Mary Lou looked him over for a moment, trying to find something out of place. “Come now,” she orders, having found no reason to torment the boy. “We’re leaving.”

She walked away. The sound of her heavy footsteps thumping down the stairs was Credence’s signal to breathe again. He pulled the handkerchief from his back and folded it neatly before hiding it underneath his pillow.

On their way to the cathedral, Mary Lou gave each of them a stack of flyers. She wanted them to hand out flyers to the congregation once the service ended while she talked with Father Blackwell. If there was one thing about Mary Lou, she was passionate and determined. When she set her sights on something, she will do everything in her power to execute it. She’d been planning this meeting for weeks. She readied herself in the only way she knew how: through constant prayer and tedious preparation. In a way, Credence was thankful for it. When Mary Lou became enlightened on an alternative approach, she was far too busy focusing on it to bother him. It was one of the few windows of relative freedom he had, and they came once in a blue moon. This meeting could mark the end, or the beginning, of this liberation.

Sitting in the pews during service, he could hardly concentrate. St. Patrick’s was a magnificent building, an authentic replica of the renaissance with its high, arched ceiling, stone engravings, and vibrant stained glass windows. It was the epitome of class and beauty. So, naturally, it would be the one church favorited by the high society. Wealthy families filled the better half of the sanctuary. While Credence and his family sat in the back with the rest of the commoners, they filled the front pews with tailored suits, mink coats, and Sunday hats. As Father Blackwell preached to the congregation, Credence searched the pews for a familiar face.

He knew his chances of seeing her were low, but he couldn't help but hope one of those Sunday hats would turn around and reveal those sparkling (e/c) eyes. His leg shook nervously, his eyes darting from one aisle of pews to another. It only stopped when a firm hand tightly gripped his thigh.

“Pay attention,” Mary Lou whispered, malice laced in her tone.

Credence swallowed, his body tensing immediately, afraid of even moving an inch in her presence. He turned his attention from the pews to the altar. Father Blackwell was standing in front of his pedestal, reading a scripture.

“We are living in a godless time,” He said. “Satan parades in the streets, preying on our sons and daughters! When the night comes, our children leave and venture into the streets. The devil and his minions tell them to wear promiscuous evening attire, commit sodomy, and fornication! Tempting them into Speakeasies to drink the Devil’s urine and feast on the bodies of Lilith’s daughters! Our city has become the devil’s playground. There is no God out there. Only sin.”

Flashes of her face imprinted in his mind. Credence frowned and tried to push it from his thoughts, but he couldn’t. His thoughts became consumed by her. As Father Blackwell spoke, he began to envision things he knew he shouldn’t.

“‘The body is not meant for sexual immorality, but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body.’” Father Blackwell reads. “Don’t you see? It isn’t ‘fashion’ or ‘modernity’. The devil has infested the media to infect our minds. He wants to taint our bodies to further stray us from God. ‘Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body’... and therefore, is a sin against God.”

His cheeks burned, and he prayed nobody would notice. He’d never thought of her like this before. Yet, somehow, the sermon unlocked one of his most shameful desires. He imagined the feeling of her warm body pressed against his. He reminisced about the feel of her soft skin. He pictured the curves of her lips, chest, and hips. He wondered how they would feel on his lips. Would they be just as soft?

“Brothers and Sisters, we must rid ourselves of all sin. Protect your children, for the devil, has his eyes set on them. The greatest sin against God is the polluting of our holy bodies. We must practice modesty and chastity. Only then can we be saved... Let us pray."

The congregation bowed their heads and listened as Father Blackwell lead the closing prayer.

The priest’s words echoed in the back of his mind. Even as he and his sisters handed flyers to those exiting the church, his mind would drift back to the sermon. Mary Lou had left him and his sisters to talk with Father Blackwell. He watched as she walked down the aisle to meet him at the altar. Father Blackwell was already conversing with a member of the church, a stocky man wearing a cream-colored suit and matching hat.

She nearly approached him before another man stopped her. Credence recognized him as Deacon Ripley. Deacon Ripley was as galling as his face would suggest. His face was pointed and far too wrinkled for his age. Deacon Ripley had a habit of sticking his unusually large nose into other people’s business. He reminded Credence of a sewer rat, just as unsightly and full of shit.

He couldn’t make out what was being said, but from the looks of it, Deacon Ripley was reprimanding Mary Lou. Mary Lou did her best to get Father Blackwell’s attention, but he and the mustachioed gentleman ignored her calls. Mary Lou was never really one to lose her composure, but in her desperation, she attempted to divert Deacon from obstructing her access to Father Blackwell. She rushed to the altar, calling Father Blackwell. She began stating her case, catching the attention of those still left in the church.  

“There are evil forces at work, Father!” She shouted. “Heretics walk freely amongst us, doing the devil's work!”

Deacon Ripley came behind Mary Lou. “Pay no mind to her, Father Blackwell, she speaks fabrications.”

“This is not fiction, Father, I can assure you,” she says. “I have seen them with my own eyes. The devil’s concubine.”

“What is this you speak of?” Father Blackwell demands.

“Witches, Father. There are witches here in New York, working right under our noses—”

“I told you, Father, she’s insane,” Deacon Ripley cuts in.

“I am not crazy,” Mary Lou snarks. “And if we don’t stop them now, there will be hell to pay!”

“Enough, Ms. Barebone,” says Father Blackwell. “I will hear no more of these fairytales. Please, have decency.”

Father Blackwell turned to the gentleman and guided him to a back door where they disappeared from the sanctuary. Mary Lou, still determined to be heard, began shouting after them, preaching her testimony of witches infiltrating New York. This resulted in her being handled by a few clergymen and escorted off the premises. People whispered and gossiped as the Barebones walked by. It wasn’t hard to tell Mary Lou was humiliated. She put on a brave face, clenching her jaw and holding her head high. She grabbed Modesty by the hand and walked away. Credence and Chastity followed close behind with their heads down.  

It had been about a week since the church incident. Mary Lou hadn’t left her room since. The only one to see her was Modesty. Mary Lou always had a soft spot for the younger sibling. In any other circumstance, Credence would have taken such behavior as a blessing. Whatever wrath Mary Lou was feeling wasn’t being directed at him. But the looming threat of her presence left him little to no space to relax.

Credence was helping Chastity make pamphlets in the dining hall when the sound of Mary Lou’s door opening and closing halted their process. Small footsteps trotted down the stairs and into the hall.

“Credence,” Modesty called. Credence stood from his seat and walked to Modesty, who handed him a stack of flyers once he was close enough. “Mother wants you to pass out these flyers around town. She said not to come back until they’re all gone.”

Credence took the flyers in his hands and reluctantly walked to the door. It was snowing today. It wasn’t cold enough for it to stick, but it was cold nonetheless. He already wore his warmest clothes, which happened to be an old navy sweater vest, grey wool suit jacket, and matching trousers. He threw on a grey fedora and ventured into the streets.

He didn’t mind handing out flyers. Anything to get out of that awful place was enough for him. It was just about noon when he left. He thought it best to head towards the inner city. It was Saturday, so there were sure to be people bustling in and out of shops today. It usually wasn’t a long walk, Credence was used to walking long distances. However, the nipping cold slowed his pace a bit.

In the first hour, he spent walking around midtown and passing flyers around the park. Handing out flyers in winter rarely yields any results. People are far too cold and miserable to bother pulling their hands from their pockets to grab a piece of paper. After a very unsuccessful hour, he migrated further north, closer to Times Square.

“Credence?”

Credence stopped in his tracks, his heart jumping wildly in his chest. He slowly turned around to where the voice had come from. There, in all her grace, was the last person he expected to see. He could see her even more clearly than the last night he saw her. This time, she wore a large, white fur coat that stopped at her ankles and a matching fur hat. In her gloved hands, she carried a small beaded purse that glittered when light reflected off it.  In the day’s light, her skin radiantly glowed, much like her purse. Her eyes seemed bigger than what he remembered, mimicking that of a doll’s. They were enhanced by the brown eyeshadow that darkened her lids and the mascara that elongated her lashes. Today, her lips were raspberry pink instead of the deep red he remembered. Snowflakes nestled in the nooks of her curled (h/c) hair, making her appear even more angelic.

“Mi-Miss (l/n)?”

He hadn’t a moment to process her appearance before she rushed into his arms, catching him by surprise. She threw her arms around his neck and rested her chin on his broad shoulder. His hands instinctively gravitated to her waist, holding her steady as she stood on the tips of her toes. She felt lush in his arms, the heat from her body sent warmth spreading throughout his center. The expanse of his neck and cheeks blossomed into a dusty shade of rose. His mind raced as he tried to collect his thoughts. He was almost sure she could feel the rapid beating of his chest.

If she did, she didn’t seem to mind. She held onto him, squealing excitedly. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you!” She said between giggles. “I was hoping you’d be here!”

Credence raised his brows, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You... You were hoping?” he repeated.

She pulled away, falling back on her heels to look him in the eye. Her hands still held onto his arms. “Well, I wasn’t sure if I’d see you,” she says. “But every time I come down, I hope I do.”

“You visit often?” He asked.

“As much as I can,” she admits. “I live in Kings Point. Do you know where that is?”

He nodded. Kings Point was a village up North by the bay in an area commonly referred to as West Egg. Many wealthy families live there in their ritzy mansions, throwing parties, boating, and golfing.

“Yes, well, I can only visit on weekends. Mainly with friends. But, lately, I’ve made a habit of coming down on my own, since I met you.”

She had said it so casually he thought she must’ve not realized how it sounded. Had she been purposely coming to the city, hoping to cross paths again? A small smile formed on his lips.

Her hands slipped from his arms and returned to her side, much to his disappointment.

Just then, a man behind her coughed, drawing their attention. (y/n) looked back and gasped. “Oh! I’m sorry, Eddy. How rude of me! I completely forgot to introduce you.”

She stepped back to the man’s side. “Eddy, this is my friend Credence Barebone. I met him a few weeks ago in Town Square. Credence, this is Edmund Tully.”

Credence and the man made eye contact. The man, Edmund, was tall; even taller than him. He was built, with wide shoulders to match his thick neck and strong, clean-shaven jawline. His rectangular face was undeniably handsome, with strong, straight features Credence had only seen before on statues and hooded green eyes. His blond hair was almost completely hidden underneath his grey newsboy hat that matched the tailored grey suit he wore underneath a thick, black, fur-lined ulster.

Credence was already intimidated by the man. He was older, around his late twenties. If it wasn’t his overall overwhelming appearance that intimidated him, then it was definitely the pointed glower directed at him. (y/n) didn’t notice it. Her eyes were focused on him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Credence, bravely offering his hand.

Edmund looked down at Credence’s outstretched hand. “Yes, and you as well,” he said indifferently, reluctantly taking his hand and forcing a smile. (y/n)’s brows wrinkled slightly at the interaction as she looked between the two men.

When they stopped shaking hands, Edmund turned to (y/n). It was almost comical how drastically his expression changed when he looked at her. His face softened and his phony, tight-lipped smile became genuine.

“(y/n), darling, I’m afraid I have to go now,” He said.

“So soon?” She asked.

“Yes, actually. Your brother and I have a meeting with your father and Mr. Finnegan around lunch,” he explains.

“Oh, I see,” she hums in understanding. “Well, you better get going.”

“You’re right, I must.” He took a step closer to her. “It was lovely running into you today, (y/n).”

Credence watched as he bent down and placed a large hand on her waist. She too reached around to wrap your arm around his torso. He watched as the man kissed her right cheek before moving to kiss the other. This didn’t phase her at all. Instead, she smiled as if it happened all the time. Credence felt looked away, upset by the display. Why did he feel upset?

The two pulled apart, and Edmund began to walk away. “I’ll tell your brother you said hello, shall I?” He yelled.

“Yes! And tell him that mother wants him home by ten o’clock tonight!” (y/n) responded as she waved goodbye.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Credence spoke up.

(y/n) looked back to face Credence. “I have two older brothers, actually,” she told him. “Aaron and Channing. Eddy is Aaron’s friend. They met at Oxford University. He and my brother both work for my father now, so he’s around often. He can be a bit... overbearing sometimes, but he means well.”

“And your other brother?”

“Channing is only a year older than me, so he’s twenty. He’s my best friend,” she revealed. “He isn’t here, though—in New York, I mean. He’s currently studying abroad in Japan.”

“Japan?”

“Crazy, isn’t it? Between you and me, I think he’s only there to follow this Japanese girl he met. And I don’t blame him! I met her before and she’s very beautiful, sweet too! Though, I do miss him a lot. Sometimes I wonder if I should have gone with him when I had the chance.”

Credence looked down at his feet as he listened. For some reason, the thought saddened him. Did she miss her brother so much that she would end up leaving for Japan one day? Would he never see her again? Would she miss him if she did? He didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay so they could keep meeting like this. So he could see her face and have her smile at him so kindly, like she always did. Her brother might miss her, but he needed her.

Credence felt so selfish for thinking such things. How could he possibly think he deserved her time? If he told her what he truly thought, how would she react?

As if she could read his thoughts, (y/n) took a step closer to him. He picked his head up to face her and saw that she was smiling up at him.

“But, if I had done that, then I wouldn’t have met you,” she says.

Just as quickly as his deprecating thoughts had come, they left once her words reached his ears. Credence could only stare at her in disbelief.

“And he sends me letters every month, so, I guess it's all right,” she chuckled. “So, how have you been?” She asked, bringing him out of his daze.

“I...I’ve been well,” he says.

“I’m glad,” she smiles. Her eyes travel down his form. A small crease forms in the middle of her brows as she tilts her head to the side. “You still haven’t gotten yourself a coat, I see.”

Credence looked down at his clothes as though he had forgotten what he had on. “No, I haven’t.”

She cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brows. “I suppose I could just buy you one.”

Credence shook his head, not wanting to inconvenience her for a second time. “You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“I wasn’t really asking,” she said.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “Really.”

She stared at him for a moment, squinting her eyes slightly. “Fine, then.” She began unbuttoning her coat. Credence watched her, confused by the sudden action.

“W-What are you doing?” He asked.

“If you won't let me buy you a coat, then I won't wear one either,” she says simply.

Credence furrowed his brows. “But you’ll be cold.”

She scoffed. “And you’re not?”

Credence was rendered speechless. A small smirk curled on her painted lips. “Either you let me buy you a coat, or I won’t wear one at all. I can’t walk with you knowing you’re freezing and I’m perfectly comfortable.”

She was impossible. No matter what he says, she would always find a way to make him give in.

“O-Okay,” he concedes.

(y/n) grinned brightly, fixing her coat back over her shoulders and hooking her arm around his as she had once before.

“This will be fun!” She beamed.

She led him back in the direction she had come while eagerly telling him about the boutique she knew would have the best selection for him. He increasingly became more comfortable in her presence. He even properly engaged in conversation, much to her delight. And whenever she smiled up at him, he found himself smiling too.

The boutique wasn’t far—about three blocks away to be exact. It was a small blue shop with gold painted windows. Through them, Credence could see posed mannequins dressed in all kinds of fancy coats, dresses, and suits. Written above the entrance in the scripted font was a sign that read: Vendicci’s.

Upon entering the store, their ears were filled with Italian opera. The shop appeared to be empty. There were no other shoppers, and the front counter was left unattended. Credence followed her to the counter. On its surface was a small golden bell that she tapped lightly. The bell rang, signaling their presence.

Shuffling could be heard from the back of the shop, catching their attention. From the back of the shop, they could hear harsh whispers and unintelligible curses. A short, thin man came stumbling in. He had dark olive skin and chestnut brown curls that fell around his Grecian face. He was disheveled—the first three buttons of his pink dress shirt were unbuttoned, and the fabric of his pressed white pants were creased. Without looking, the man made his way to the back of the counter, mumbling in a language he couldn’t make out.

Following behind him was a woman equally disheveled in appearance. Her short black hair stuck up in odd places, and she had missed one button of her blouse. She wandered the shop, to mind some clothes on the rack as the man drew near to the front counter.

“Stupidi Americani... Sorry, we are closed for now. You can come back later when—,” The man stopped when his eyes landed on her.

(y/n) smirked. “Hello, Raül,” she waved.

“Bella!” He gasped and hurried towards her with open arms. “How wonderful to see you!” He said in a thick Mediterranean accent. He placed hands on her shoulders and pulled her in to kiss both of her cheeks. “You look even more lovely since the last I saw you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Raül,” she chuckled.

“Where have you been?” He pouts. “It’s been so long I’ve barely been able to survive without you.”

“I’m sorry, Raül, I’ve been trying to be more mindful of how I spend my money,” she explains.

“Mind your money here! I have so many new items you would look molto bella in. I saved them just for you,” he winked.

“That’s sweet of you, Raül. I promise I will come by and try them on at another time.”

Suddenly, the man became aware of Credence’s presence in the room. He looked at him like something had left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Raül raised a skeptical brow and asked with pursed lips, “Is this man with you?”

“Yes, he is,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “We’d like to buy a coat. Something thick for the winter.”

Raül nodded and hummed, turning back to face her. “You’re just in luck,” he says. “Early this week I got a shipment straight from Italia: a fine selection of winter coats designed by Feliciano Romano himself.”

(y/n) gasped, clasping her hands together. “That’s fantastic! We’ll try those first!”

She took Credence by the arm and they followed him through the shop where they came upon a round archway covered by red velvet curtains. Raül pulled back the heavy curtains to reveal a separate room. It was small. The carpet was also red to match the curtains and the loveseats and chairs that decorated the room. In the center of the floor, was a circular platform. Above it was a circular ring of white drapes that had been pulled up. Across from the platform was a wall of mirrors, reflecting the room from different angles.

The woman from earlier had come in as well. With her, she brought along a rack filled with many expensive coats. She pulled it to the side of the room, right next to the platform. Raül thanked the woman with a playful pat on her buttcheek.

Credence blushed, having put two-and-two together about what was going on between the two co-workers before he and (y/n) had shown up. (y/n) was unfazed at all by the promiscuous interaction. Instead, she took off her coat and hat and threw them on one of the sofas facing the platform before taking a seat.

“Let’s begin!” Raül said excitedly.

“Stand up there, Credence.” (y/n) pointed to the platform. Credence did as he was told, and stepped onto the raised surface, awkwardly awaiting more instruction.

The dark-haired woman came up to Credence with a large coat in her arms. He didn’t need to put it on to know it wasn’t something that would suit him. She stood behind him and slipped the sleeves of the coat over his arms and shoulders. The coat itself was heavy enough to make him slouch slightly and tense his leg muscles to carry the added weight. The warm fabric engulfed his lanky form. It was made of strange, thick fur—not mink, but from another animal, he couldn’t guess. It was dark brown, and in some areas, it looked black. The length of the coat ended just above his ankles and the sleeves practically covered his hands, the tips of his fingers were all that were visible.

It was definitely a coat well suited for a more muscular type of man. It was the kind of coat that would be perfect for a large Russian mobster. However, on his lanky form, it just looked plain silly. (y/n) looked at him in the mirror, catching his eye.

“Do you like it?” She asks. “Be honest. I won’t buy you something you don’t like.”

“It’s fine,” he lied.

“Absolutely not!” Raül said as he took a step onto the platform and stood in front of Credence, looking him over intently. “I never thought I would say this to anyone, but, my dear, sable is not for you.”

“You don’t think so?” (y/n) chimed in.

“Miss (l/n)!” He gasped. “You are my most fashionable client! Tell me you don’t think this works for him!”

She looked him up and down, a smile stretching across her lips. “I think he looks cute,” she says. “like a cuddly bear.”

Credence blushed and shied away from her gaze. Raül tuts his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Well, he must be the skinniest bear in the forest,” he mutters as he pulls the coat off Credence’s shoulders.

“Want to try another one?” She asked. Credence nodded.

Raül went through the rack before pulling out another coat for him to try. He found one he thought might look best and took it off its hook before helping Credence try it on.

After he helped him slip his arms in, he took a step back to look him over. “How's this?”

It was a slim-fitting burnt orange fox fur coat that stopped halfway. It had a low collar and large brown buttons that trailed from his chest to the hem. He noticed how it was tighter around his waist and made his hips look bigger than he’d like. He thought it was a coat he would see on a woman. 

“It’s a bit bright for winter, don’t you think?” She pointed out.

“Nothing is ever too bright,” Raül argued.

She squinted at Credence’s reflection in the mirror, pondering the look. His face burned red and he silently pleaded she disliked the coat as well. His flustered expression made her stifle a fit of giggles. “I think we’ll try another one,” she smirked.

Raül sighs and slips the coat off Credence’s shoulders, much to his relief. The next coat was a black and white trench with large black buttons and a belt. Credence stood uncomfortably in front of the critical pair.

Raül crossed his arms, a small approving smile plastered on his lips. “Now this, I like!”

“I don’t know...” She hummed. “What do you think, Credence?”

“It’s itchy,” he says.

“It’s tweed,” Raül said, as though it made it better.

She giggled and looked at Raül. “Another?”

They went through several different coats, most of which were unflattering or uncomfortable. Credence thought the others were doing it on purpose — at least, he felt like she was. There was something about the playful smirk that curled the corners of her lips whenever he was dressed in a seemingly ridiculous or feminine coat that made him feel as though she had taken joy in dressing him up and watching his cheeks turn red from embarrassment whenever she expressed how ‘cute’ he looked. While there may have been no initial mal-intent when she initially insisted on buying him a coat, he was starting to feel like she was toying with him; teasing him for her own pleasure. 

Raül pulled another unsatisfying coat off of his shoulders only to replace it with another. The weighted coat comfortably slipped onto his shoulders. When Raül properly fit the coat onto him, he took a step back, a small smile gracing his features. Credence turned his neck to look back at (y/n) who had a similar expression of approval.

“Wow.” She whispered.

The coat was indeed impressive in a simplistic kind of way. It wasn’t too flashy or extraordinary. Just a simple black trench that fell to his knees. It was a sharp, angular cut, one that seemed to broaden his shoulders to imitate a somewhat muscular appearance. The shade of black complimented his pale skin and matched his raven locks, making him appear more porcelain than before. 

“Magnifico! So handsome, like a dark prince!” Raül cheered. His assistant then too voiced her agreement.

(y/n) moved from the sofa to the platform where Credence stood. She eyed him closely, circling him before stopping in his eye-view. She ran her hands up his arms, feeling the material under her skin. She dragged them up and across his shoulders, before stopping at his chest. Credence’s heart drummed against his chest, excited by her touch. He wondered if she could feel it through the coat.

“Do you like it?” she asked him.

“I do,” he says, truthfully this time.

She smiled and turned to face Raül. “We’ll take it!”

(y/n) left with Raül and the woman from earlier to pay for the dashing coat, leaving Credence alone in the dressing room. He looked himself over in the mirror, admiring how he looked in the black material. He couldn’t deny how good he looked in it. For the first time he looked, normal. Better than normal—he looked like a proper gentleman. Sure, a real ritz could snuff him out in a heartbeat, but to the average New Yorker, he could pass for someone on the same caliber as (y/n). It was like looking at the version of him he always wanted to be.

It wasn’t long before the fleeting fantasy soured. The rational part of his brain picked at the flaws of this entire interaction. How would he explain to his mother where he got such an expensive coat? If she saw him wearing it, she would definitely ask questions he was afraid to answer. Either way, he knew he couldn’t be seen with it on while she was around. But he couldn’t throw it away; not when she went through all the trouble of buying it for him. And it was such a nice coat... Credence shook the worries from his mind. He couldn’t think about it now. 

After (y/n) paid for the coat, the two bid Raül goodbye and ventured back out into the cold. Already, Credence noticed a stark difference of the cold with the coat protecting his skin. It dulled the nipping chill that never left during the winter months. 

“Much better, isn’t it? ‘Not cold’ my ass,” she snarked playfully. She fished around her coat pocket and pulled out a pair of black leather gloves. “Take these.”

Credence eyed the gloves questionably. (y/n) sighed and took his hand from his side, sliding the gloves on before doing the same with the other. “There,” she grinned. “I wasn’t sure if these were gonna be the right size, but look! They’re perfect!”

“But... you didn’t have to buy these for me,” said Credence.

“I didn’t buy them,” she says. “Raül gave them to me—well, to you. He says those gloves must go with that coat. I have to say I agree; they really complete the look.” She began walking down the street again, prompting him to follow her. “And don’t worry about the coat, okay? Like I said before, it’s on me,” she reminded him.

Credence still felt couldn’t accept something so valuable without thanking her. She bought him a coat because she cared about how he was feeling, just like when she helped him off the street all those weeks ago. He felt indebted to her—grateful to her. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he returned the favor tenfold. 

To her, this was obvious. She could tell buying the coat bothered him. He was so tense. He probably would never relax around her unless he somehow proved that he deserved to. Perhaps she can help him see. She glanced at the taller boy from the corner of her eye.

“But,” she sighed. “If you’re still looking for some way to repay me, I can think of something I’d like you to do.”

Credence perked up. “Really? What is it?”

She grins up at him, showing her pearly white teeth. “Go on a date with me.”

Credence’s eyes widened. “W-What?”

(y/n) chuckled. “If you don’t want to go on a date with me, that’s fine.”

“No!” He said all too desperately. He blushed at his own excitement. “I mean... Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“It’s why I suggested it, isn’t it?”

Credence blushed. A date? He’d imagined taking her on a date in his head about a hundred times. He thought of what he might say and do on the chance he got to be alone with her again. Maybe this time he’ll follow through.

“Okay,” he gave in. “Where do you want to go?”

“How eager are you!” She laughed. “I didn’t even say when and you’re already trying to sweep me off my feet, huh? Either that or you’re just trying to get rid of me.”

“T-That’s not how I meant it!” he stammered.

(y/n) giggled at his demise. “I’m just teasing you, Bunny. No need to turn so red,” she smirked.

She didn’t help his case when she slipped her arm between his to link their arms. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to her being so close to him. No matter how many times she touched him, he always managed to get flustered. It’s probably why she did it so much, just to see him blush.

“Now is as good a time as any,” she said while smiling up at him. “Are you hungry? I’m starving!”

They walked through the city together, arm in arm. Unlike last time, Credence attempted to be more interactive with her. (y/n) was definitely the more dominant converser, but his attempts to be more engaging with her didn’t go unnoticed. He asked her the questions that have been collecting in his head since they met.

He asked her what she did in her spare time (paint) and what her favorite food was (chocolate). He learned that she was a Columbia scholar currently on break and that she recently adopted a hairless cat named Onyx (it was the only cat her father wasn’t allergic to). Talking with her became easy. He even made her laugh a few times.

While they walked, Credence felt like they passed about twenty different restaurants and cafés he thought she would like. But whenever he thought they were about to stop, she kept going. He was wondering where exactly she was taking him. 

“Are we eating somewhere in particular?” He asked discreetly.

(y/n) nodded and hummed. “I’m taking you to one of the best places on earth. Salone’s! It’s not that far from here. It’s been a while since I’ve been, but I’m really craving it. Have you ever been there before?” She asked.

Credence shook his head. “Never,” he said, causing her to gasp dramatically.

“Oh, now we definitely have to go! What kind of person would I be if I let you go on living without experiencing God’s gift to man? And by ‘God’ I mean Dixie Salone, the owner.”

When they turned the corner, there was a small restaurant named Salone’s across the street. Taking precautious measures, (y/n) gingerly led Credence across the street and to the restaurant. When they opened the door, the smell of grease and peanuts filled the air. The place was reasonably packed, with average looking people all looking at them as they entered the room. (y/n) looked out of place in her rather extravagant attire, though now—with her on his arm and his new coat—he probably looked just as pretentious as she.

If (y/n) noticed the leering eyes of the other customers, she didn’t show it. Instead, she scoured the area for a place to sit, before landing on a booth tucked away in the back. They claimed the booth for themselves. Credence took the booth facing the door, shedding his outer attire and tucking it away in the seat corner. (y/n) slid into the seat across from him, shrugging off her coat and hat, revealing her clothes underneath.

Underneath the mound of fur, was a matching white dress. Unaccommodating to the weather, the dress underneath hung off her shoulders. It had long sleeves, but the upper half of her chest and her shoulders were exposed. Though, Credence figured when you have fur to wear over your clothes, it doesn’t matter much what you wear under it. The fabric was velvet, which must have also helped. From what he could see, it hugged her body well. Credence looked down at his hands on his lap, realizing he had been staring a bit too long. Lucky for him, she hadn’t noticed.

On the table were two menus placed before them. He looked down at the large printed sheet. Credence had never been to a restaurant before. He had eaten nowhere else but the church. He ate once a day (if he ate at all) and it was the same thing almost every time: porridge and stale bread. But on the menu before him, there was no porridge or stale bread at all. There was soup, steak, chicken, and almost every kind of pie. He felt his mouth watering just thinking about it. 

“Don’t bother looking at the menu,” (y/n) told him, gaining his attention. “I’m going to order for you. This place is really only good for two things, everything else is subpar, trust me.”

He looked at the menu again, mildly disappointed. He was looking forward to trying fried chicken. He took a moment to look around the diner. Most of the people there looked like working classmen: factory workers or nannies. Some still wore their uniforms under layers of sweaters and scarves. Others wore regular everyday clothes. Many of those who eyed them upon their entry returned their attention to their food and prior conversations. Though, there were a few that still snuck looks at their table in the back. Some were harmless, like the little girl who was staring at (y/n) in awe. Some were more menacing, like the rugged-looking man sitting on a stool by the counter who seemed annoyed by their presence.

(y/n) noticed that Credence’s eyes were shifting around the room pointedly. “Is something the matter?” She asked.

“It’s just...” He began. “I never thought you would be the type to eat at a place like this.”

“I guess it does seem a bit funny, huh? I look like someone who’d frequent an uptown steakhouse, right?” She chuckled. “Truth is, I’ve never had a big part in that lifestyle. Banquets and fine dining, I mean. It’s all fake and pretentious. But this—” she gestured to the room around them. “This is real. The food is real. The people are real. Do you know what I mean?”

Credence nodded. “I think so.”

“Some of my favorite memories take place here. My father would take me here when I was little on his days off. It was one of the happiest times of my life. I guess I wanted to relive that with you today.”

Credence took notice in the look in her eyes. He could tell that recalling such memories saddened her. He didn’t like seeing her upset, but, at the same time, he was glad she wanted to share something so important to her with him. One day, he hoped to do the same.

Not long after that, a young woman dressed in a red dress and a white apron with a stitched red S on the bottom corner walked up to their table with a notepad in hand.

“Hello and welcome to Salone’s, what can I get the lovely couple today?” The waitress asked. Credence couldn’t help but blush after being referred to as a couple.

“Yes,” (y/n) said happily. “Today we’ll—” she stopped mid-sentence before glancing at Credence across the table. She smirked and waved the waitress down to her.

The waitress smiled and got down on her knees next to her. (y/n) grabbed a menu and held it in front of their faces so Credence couldn’t tell what she was whispering. He watched in confusion as (y/n) whispered their order to the waitress.

The waitress nodded, and every once in a while he heard her giggle. “Yes, alright... okay... got it!”

The woman stood back up on her feet and smiled down at the two diners. “If you two just wait here, I will be right back with your orders,” she said cheerfully before trotting off.

“What did you get?” Credence asked once she had left.

(y/n) shook her head and held her fingers to her lips to imitate the motion of closing a zipper. “It’s a surprise,” she winked.

Credence nodded, having decided to trust her decision. In the meantime, while they waited for their food, (y/n) engaged in another conversation with him. It was a continuation of their earlier conversation about pets. (y/n) wanted to know if Credence had any pets. When he told her he never had a pet, she asked him what kinds of animals he likes. He told her that he never met many other animals before. He’d seen many rats in his life, but that just came with the joys of living in New York City. But he thought it appropriate to mention he once made a bond with a stray cat when he was younger.

It was a black skinny thing, with a chewed off ear, and part of its tail was missing. One day, when he’d been left out on the streets as a punishment (he told her he was walking home), the cat came up to him and was begging for food. Lucky for the cat, he had a piece of bread in his pocket. He gave it to the sad creature, and it ate it from his hand. He’d never pet a cat before then, but he liked how it’s fur felt when he brushed it, and the sounds of the cat’s meows. After he told her that story, he stated that he probably liked cats the best.

“We’re just alike! Maybe one day I can take you to meet Onyx,” she suggested.

The corners of Credence’s lips curled up softly. “I’d like that,” he said.

Just then, the woman from earlier came up to them with their order on a large silver platter. The waitress placed the hot food onto the table, along with their drinks before leaving them to enjoy their meal. Credence looked down at the plate of food in front of him.

“Burgers?”

“Burgers,” she repeated excitedly. “If there’s one thing this place can make, it’s a damn good burger. Well, that and a mean vanilla milkshake! The fries aren’t half bad either,” she says as she pops one in her mouth.

Meat and fried potatoes filled his nostrils. The burger was as big as the plate it came on. The sesame bun was soft and round, and the edges appeared to be lightly toasted. Crunchy lettuce, cheese, and two slices of bacon coated in mayonnaise and ketchup poked out from the sides on top of a thick beef patty. (y/n) smiled in amusement as she watched Credence carefully take the burger in his hands. His eyes were practically sparkling with excitement.

“Go on,” she encouraged. “Take your first bite! I want to see the look on your face when the juicy meat hits your tongue.”

Credence glanced at her across the table, before opening his mouth and taking a generous bite out of the hefty burger. Various flavors overstimulated his senses. The beef and pork collided with the onions, lettuce, cheese, and condiments to create an unfamiliar taste he’d never experienced before. The meat was succulent and juicy, just as she said it would be. The cut of the beef was thick and chewy, and the bacon was crispy and flavorful. The bun was soft and crunchy and tasted as though it was toasted with butter. It wasn’t stale at all! It was like it came fresh out of the bakery just before it wound up on his plate. 

It was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“Well?”

Credence hadn’t even realized he closed his eyes, but when he opened them, (y/n) was looking at him expectantly. He swallowed the delicious food and licked his lips greedily, chuckling softly.

“It’s good,” he smiled.

A wide grin stretched across her painted lips. It was the first time he’d laughed around her.

“You have a pretty smile, you know that?” She told him.

Credence’s cheeks reddened for the thirtieth time that day, and he lowered his head to hide it from her.

(y/n) chuckled softly before taking his basket of fries. “Here.” She took the red ketchup bottle from the side of the table and drizzled the condiment over the fries in a zig-zag pattern before sliding the basket back towards him.

“Thank you,” he muttered bashfully through a mouth full of food.

“You’ve got ketchup on the side of your mouth,” she told him.

Without thinking, he stuck his tongue out to lick the spot clean. (y/n) smirked in amusement, watching him do so, finding it cute.

“Did I get it?” He asked.

She snickered and reached her hand across the table to the side of his face. Her thumb gently swiped the corner of his mouth. The action took him by surprise. He sat tensely as she did it. It was a quick moment— a gentle touch, and yet his entire body burned with heat at the contact. When she pulled away and leaned back in her seat, the warmth still lingered. She looked him in the eyes, not breaking contact as she brought her thumb to her lips. The pink flesh of her tongue darted out and lewdly flattened against the pad of her thumb, cleaning it of the ketchup.

Credence felt his body ache at the simple action, the tips of his ears burning incredibly hot. (y/n), who was by no means ignorant to the effect she had on him, could only smirk and marvel at the rosy tint of his cheeks. Credence was grateful she didn’t draw attention to it. It was easier to hide how flustered she made him when they were outside, and he could blame his feverishness on the cold. Now that they were inside and it was warm, it made it harder to deny. He couldn’t bear being teased by her further, he felt like he might explode. She must have sensed it too, because she made no other moves to make him blush after that. She acted as though it didn’t happen and continued to eat her food. Credence then too returned to eating, praying that the ache he felt went away. 

It did, with the help of other distractions. (y/n) continued innocent conversation as they ate to keep the peace. As they talked she could tell that her earlier display still hindered his interaction. While they talked, she’d notice his eyes would linger on her lips rather than her eyes; and whenever they did lock eyes, he would trip over his words and look away.

It was cute, she thought.

Before she could decide to tease him further, the waitress had returned to their table, having noticed that their plates had practically been licked clean. She asked if they were finished with their plates, and they both nodded.

As she collected their dishes she asked, “Can I interest you two in some dessert?”

(y/n) pursed her lips and turned to Credence. “What do you think? Still have room for more, pretty boy?”

Credence flushed.  “I-I’ve never had a milkshake before,” he stammered, referring to the claim she made earlier.

She smiled, before gingerly holding up a finger to the waitress. “We’ll have one large vanilla milkshake with extra cherries, please!”

The waitress returned her smile and winked. “Coming right up!”

It wasn’t long before she came back with the milkshake. It came in a large glass cup filled with vanilla milkshake and topped off with a generous swirl of whipped cream. It was decorated with a cherry, but the extra cherries (y/n) asked for layered the bottom of the glass. The waitress placed the glass on the center of the table between the two. She handed them two big, red and white striped straws before leaving them once more. They both took one and put it into the glass.

(y/n) smiled eagerly at Credence across the table. “You get the first sip,” she said.

He thanked her as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around his straw. He sucked on it how he normally would without realizing how thick the milkshake was. (y/n) watched him struggle for a moment as he nearly ran out of breath trying to suck the ice cream up the straw. He got it eventually, the cool, sweet, vanilla filling his mouth. It wasn’t what he was expecting at all. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, really, but he just knew that the taste surprised him. He never had sweets before. Sugar is a gluttonous indulgence that Mary Lou found sinful. But as the sticky sweet cream slid down his throat, he wondered if all sin was just pleasures he was being denied.

He didn’t have to tell her he liked it. It was written all over his face. It was probably the most relaxed she’s ever seen him. She enjoyed seeing him that way, with a small smile on his face and flushed cheeks. Credence was so invested in the milkshake, (y/n) was sure he would drink it all if she didn’t get her sips in. Credence nearly choked when he looked up and saw her face mere inches from his own, sipping on the other straw in the glass.

She didn’t seem to mind at all, being so close to him. Her eyes were closed as she sipped. Her curled lashes brushed against her full cheeks and her glossy lips circled the straw delicately. This close, he could see the texture of her (s/c) skin, seeing the few freckles and moles that decorated her features he hadn’t noticed before.

When she did open her eyes, he didn't look away. This time he looked in her eyes and saw for the first time that her eyes weren’t just one shade of (e/c), but a combination of different shades and colors to make the color that was distinctly her’s. Similarly, she saw that his eyes were a deep brown, almost black if it weren't for the few streaks of chocolate brown and burgundy that reflected in the light.

(y/n)’s lips curled into a smile. She bashfully looked away from his eyes and into the glass. The two drank in comfortable silence, savoring both the milkshake and the tender moment. They drank the contents of the glass, leaving nothing but the leftover cream and cherries at the bottom. They wouldn’t go to waste. Cherries must have been (y/n)’s favorite because ate most of them. She did however offer one to Credence for him to try. She held the cherry by the stem and encouraged him to take a bite. He thought it was a bit embarrassing that she insisted on feeding it to him, but he took the cream covered fruit into his mouth and found it just as sweet—if not sweeter—than the milkshake itself.

She let him eat the remaining cherries himself. While he was eating, he watched (y/n) gather her things, putting on her coat before sliding out of the booth.

“I’m going to go pay while you finish,” she told him as she got up.

She walked over to the front counter where the waitress was counting money from the cash register. Credence watched as the two women talked. (y/n) smiled at the waitress and said something that made her laugh. She reached into her purse and pulled out several bills. She handed it to the waitress, who looked at the cash in her hands with wide eyes.

“For me?” He overheard the waitress ask. When (y/n) nodded, the young girl squealed in excitement and rushed from the counter to hug her. The two stumbled due to the unexpected force, but (y/n) didn’t seem to mind. She laughed and hugged the waitress back, patting her back in a friendly manner. Credence, having finished his cherries, got up to stand by (y/n)’s side.

“Thank you so much, miss!” Credence heard the waitress gush as he came up.

“It’s nothing, you deserve it,” (y/n) insisted. (y/n) turned her attention from the young girl to Credence beside her when she felt his presence. She looked up at him with a smile. “Are you ready to go?” She asked him. He nodded.

The waitress looked between the two and grinned softly. “You two make a sweet couple,” she said.

(y/n) returned the grin, hooking her arm around Credence and leaning her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she said, playing into the waitress’s assumptions.

“You two have a blessed day!” The waitress left to tend to a waiting customer leaving him victim to (y/n)’s smug grin. At this point, even his neck was red. (y/n) couldn’t help but find  it amusing. No matter how flustered he got, he wouldn’t protest.

She lightly squeezed his arm, making him look down at her. “Are you ready to go, pretty boy?” She asked him.

It was the second time she called him that, and it was just as startling as the first time. The pet name made his heart swell in his chest and his brain stutter. But again, he didn’t protest. He just nodded his head and turned his face away to hide his reddened cheeks. (y/n) giggled, satisfied with the reaction she got, and they both walked out of the restaurant and back into the cold.

Outside, the snow had stopped falling, but the sidewalks were still slick with slush and ice. (y/n) took a deep breath, breathing in the crisp air as she looked up at the sky.

“Is it that late all ready?” She muttered to herself, her happy features falling slightly. Despite the heavy, grey clouds blanketing the sky, they could still see the sun shining brightly behind them. Credence too looked up at the sky. From what he could tell, it was around three in the afternoon..

He turned to (y/n). “Do you have to go now?” He asked her regrettably.

Her eyes fell down from the sky to his own. Her lips pressed into a small smile and shook her head. “Not just yet,” she said.

“Why don’t you walk with me to the park.” She demanded more than asked and pulled him off down the sidewalk.

He walked with (y/n) a little while longer, back towards the park. Along the way, (y/n) would stop outside shops and look at the items displayed in the windows. Some things of the things she expressed an interest in were for her, sometimes she would see an item and would say something along the lines of “Mom would love this” or “Aaron has something like this”. But sometimes she would stop and turn to Credence and ask, “Do you like this?”

He had to talk her out of buying him things multiple times. She seemed so eager to spoil him. She wanted to buy him a new pair of shoes and a watch she’d seen on display. There was an expensive-looking suit outside of a tailor’s shop, and her eyes practically sparkled upon seeing it. She tried to convince him to go in and try it on, but he knew if he did, she would end up buying it for him. How he deterred her from the idea was a miracle in itself. But eventually, she dropped the idea, and the two continued on their walk. 

The two reached the park without buying a single thing. When they reached the entrance of the park, (y/n) stopped, and pulled away from his side. Credence halted in his tracks, turning around to face her. He looked down at her as she smiled up at him.

“Do you have anywhere to go after this?” She asked him.

Credence shook his head. His mother wouldn’t be expecting him until dark.

She pursed her lips and tilted her as if in thought as she sighed.

“Should I just kidnap you?”

The question took him by surprise. (y/n) laughed at the perturbed look on his face. “I’m joking, Credence,” she said between snorts. “I won’t kidnap you. Not unless you want me to.”

Credence smiled softly, letting out a soft chuckle of his own. This made (y/n) smile even bigger than before. She took a coy step closer to him, taking one of his gloved hands in her own and swinging it playfully.

“I had fun today, Credence,” she told him. “As first dates go, this is probably the best one I’ve ever been on.”

“Just probably?” Credence mumbled jokingly.

(y/n) smirked, amused by the sudden remark. “Yeah, just probably.”

Credence looked down at their hands, admiring how small her hands were compared to his. Somehow he hadn’t realized just how much shorter than him she was. He always felt smaller than her. He didn’t mind it: feeling small. It was different from how other people made him feel small; like his mother or strangers on the street. They made him feel tiny, like a bug— like something disgusting and inconvenient. To them, he was something they could easily step on. But with her, it was different.

With her, he felt small, like a flower. And to him, she was the sun. She was so big and so bright. Whenever she was around, he felt alive. And whenever she wasn’t, he felt like he might die. He didn’t mind feeling small around her, because, at least when he’s with her, he is consumed by light. 

“I had fun too,” Credence spoke up. “I really enjoy spending time with you, Miss (l/n).”

“Are you always this formal?” She teases despite her obvious blushing. “I enjoy spending time with you too, Mister Barebone.”

She gave his hand one last gentle squeeze before letting go. She brushed past him, striding down the street. Credence watched her as she walked, his heart sinking just a little.

As though she could sense it, (y/n) looked at him over her shoulder as she walked and grinned. “Don’t look so sad,” she yelled to him. “I’ll find you again.”

With a chaste wink, she disappeared around the corner and away from his line of vision, leaving him with a full stomach and an even fuller heart.

That night, Credence returned home alone. He reluctantly walked back to the crooked chapel. His mind was fogged with thoughts of her. When he came to the front of what he, unfortunately, called ‘home’, he hesitated to go in. He looked through each window. It was dark inside. Could everyone have fallen asleep already?

He looked down at the coat on his body. He quickly shrugged the heavy material off of his shoulders and folded it in his arms before quietly entering the house. The house seemed empty, and it was almost too quiet. He pushed his way through the dark and carefully made his way up the stairs as to not make a sound. He’d gotten good at being quiet in the house. He memorized each squeaky board and mastered the art of moving in silence despite his height. 

He crept up the stairs as he’d done many times and tip-toed to his bedroom, where he then quietly shut his door. Once he heard the door click softly, he released his breath and sighed in relief.

His room wasn’t much. It was small and comprised a bed with an old iron frame, an armoire, a sink, and a metal tub that he uses to bathe. He looked down at the coat in his hands. He moved to the armoire by his bed and opened its doors. There wasn’t much inside; he had little to put in it, anyway. But today, he would be thankful for that. 

The armoire was a rather fancy piece of furniture. It stood out in his otherwise destitute room. The armoire was just as old and worn out as the rest of the room, but it wasn’t hard to tell it was an ornamental relic of the 19th century. It had enough space to fill two weeks’ worth of clothes. It was almost offensive how little there was inside it. One detail about it was its hollow bottom. Credence could slide the bottom plank of wood to reveal a cubbyhole. Its original purpose must have been for shoes or winter blankets, but now it would serve a new purpose. 

Credence kneeled on the ground and packed the coat neatly into the cubby before throwing his new gloves on top. They fit perfectly inside and he was allowed to slide the wooden plank back on with ease. With that accomplished, he rose to his feet and closed the armoire doors. He began undressing, stripping his clothes until he was left in nothing but his boxers.

It was as cold in the house as it was outside, but credence had no pajamas that would keep him warm. He had but one pair of old satin pajamas that were too small for him. He decided not to wear them tonight. The naturally cool material wouldn’t provide him warmth or comfort.

After putting away his dirtied clothes, Credence fell back on his bed and stared up at the rotting ceiling above him. As he lay there, his mind would drift to the memories of his ‘date’. Just thinking about her made his heart beat faster. He pictured her in his mind, reliving the time he spent with her.

It was the most surreal thing. Being with her made him feel things he never felt before. She made his heart flutter and his cheeks warm in a pleasantly addicting way. When he was with her, he forgot everything bad. There was no anxiety, no judgment, no harsh words, or abuse. He was just a normal man with a normal woman. He wished he could feel that way all the time.

His hand reached behind his head and slipped under his pillow to retrieve the soft pink piece of fabric he kept there. He held it up in front of him, rubbing it between his fingers. The moonlight from his window reflected on its threads, and he could read the stitched initials in the corner.

“(y/n)...” He whispered her name so tenderly. Just saying her name aloud made his lips tingle. He loved saying her name for the simple reason that it was her name. He would say it a thousand times aloud if he could.

He brought the cloth down to his nose and inhaled its scent. Her fragrance still lingered on the soft fabric, clouding his senses. Credence felt a familiar stirring rise in his stomach. Heat rose to his cheeks, and he pressed his legs together. His mind flashed to the other day in the church, remembering the lewd images of her he had fantasized about. A part of him was ashamed. Sexual desire was a sin he shouldn’t act upon. It was a vile, disgusting act. That’s what the church told him, at least. And his mother would have no part of it either.

Mary Lou made sure to reprimand him whenever she suspected him of sexual temptation, so much so he shied away from girls all together. Yet recently, he’s felt a bumbling desire well up inside of him. He knew what it was; he felt it before. Only once before had he fallen victim to his lusty desire. It had been in his adolescence. He was sleeping when he had a dream about a red-haired woman he’d seen on the street. She was most likely in her twenties at the time, but she was so captivating he remembered her face for a week. He dreamed of that red-haired woman touching and caressing him. She’d even kissed him like he’d seen couples on the street kiss. This mild fantasy woke him from his sleep with a shameful mess on his bed.

He was so humiliated and ashamed he rushed to confess to Mary Lou, who punished him greatly for his lasciviousness. He didn’t dream of the red-haired woman or any woman at all after that. That is, until he met her.

At first, his thoughts of her were innocent. He would fantasize about holding her hand and laying on her chest as he slept. She would caress his face and run her fingers through his hair.  He would give her chaste kisses on her cheek, and she would giggle and laugh, returning the favor. But that changed that day he went to church and listened to Father Blackwell’s sermon. That was the first time he thought of her in such an erotic way.

It was because of this he felt particularly suffocated by her presence today. He became even more aware of her touches. His eyes would stare at her lips more often and glance at the curves of her chest. He thought about how she held on to his arm; How warm and soft she was; Her small hands. He thought about how her finger felt brushing against his lip. About how her tongue darted between her plump lips to lap at her thumb.

Credence bit his lip to keep his whimpers from escaping. His thoughts were filled with images of her, his body reacted on its own. He curled on his side and pressed his legs together to relieve himself of his growing hardness. Instead of discouraging his growing lust, it seemed to only spur it on. The feeling of his thighs pressing against his length brushed an itch he desperately desired to scratch.

He wanted her by his side so terribly. If only he were as confident and manly as the men he saw on the street, she would be. If he were as confident as the man she was with today, then he could call her by her name. He too could take her by her delicate waist and kiss her cheeks. And, oh, did he wish to kiss her.

He wanted to kiss her many times today. He wanted to kiss her the moment he saw her. He wanted to kiss her again in the boutique when she pressed her hands on his chest, and again when she asked him to go on a date with her. He wanted to kiss her multiple times in the restaurant for teasing him so viciously, and he wanted to kiss her deeply before they said goodbye.

He imagined what it would be like to be that kind of man; what it would be like to have her with him now, and what he would do if she was. If she was there on his bed laying next to him, he would want to kiss her now as well. He would have her under him, staring up at him with her beautiful (e/c) eyes. He would brush the hair away from her face and stroke her cheek. Her hands would hold his sides and pull him closer so their bodies lay flat against each other. He would feel her and she would feel him. Her warmth would consume him, and their bodies would mold together.

Credence closed his eyes and smelled her pink handkerchief. If he kept his eyes closed, he could pretend she was there.

“(y/n)...” He whispered her name once more. His hips rocked hesitantly, the undeniable bulge in his boxers was now too evident to ignore. Rocking his hips caused a pleasurable sensation in his stomach. It felt so good, he did it again... and again... and again; rocking his hips as he held her handkerchief to his nose and imagined her.

He thought of kissing her soft lips as he pressed into her, feeling her hands run up and down his sides as they had done before. He wanted to rock his hips against her like he was doing now. Would it feel as good for her as it felt for him? Would she breathe as heavy as he was now? Would she pant and whisper his name?

“A-ah...”

He panted lewdly, pleasuring himself with these thoughts. But it wasn't enough. He needed more.

He laid on his back on the bed. His body seemed to know what to do without thinking about it. He kept his eyes closed as his free hand snaked down his body to palm himself over his boxers. He rubbed himself through the fabric, his shallow breaths filling his ears. But to him it wasn't his hands, but hers; her soft, small hands touching him gently.

It was her delicate hands that slipped past the waistband of his boxers and gripped his length. It was her hands that stroked him slowly. She was there, whispering his name while he whispered hers. The more she stroked him, the shorter his breaths became. Each breath he took was filled with her scent. She consumed him, wrapping her essence around him, and filling his body with heat.

She stroked him faster as they kissed. He kissed her deeply, slipping his tongue past her lips as he’d seen couples do before. He could taste the cherries and vanilla on her tongue, as sweet as they were in the milkshake they’d shared. She moaned his name in her mouth, driving him crazy.

“Ha..-ahh. ahaa...”

More, he thought. All he could think about was how he wanted more. More of her scent, more of her touch, more of her.

Her hands became wet with his slick, gliding up and down his length with vigor. His body was overtaken with a foreign sensation, buzzing through his body, collecting where he wanted to be touched the most. The faster she stroked him, the better he felt. She felt good, so so good.

“H-Ha...-haaaa...(y/n)...”

He wanted to say her name over and over. He wanted to shout it, loud enough for the heavens to hear. He didn’t care if God heard him. He wanted God and the angels to hear so they would know how she made him feel. He was overwhelmed by love and lust for her. He wanted them to know that his body was hers and he willingly gave it to her. He wanted to touch her, please her, feel her.

His eyes clenched shut. Her hands pumped his twitching length excitedly, the buzzing heat collecting at his center. His legs began to shake, his back arching from the bed. Lavender and vanilla, that’s what he smelled as his vision blurred and the buzzing heat tingling in his core burst and was replaced with a cool wave of overwhelming pleasure.

His body trembled, somehow coated in a thin layer of sweat despite the room being cold. He stayed still, laying in silence as he let his body calm. When he finally opened his eyes, he half expected to see her hovering over him with that playful smile on her face, only to be met with the rotting rafters of his ceiling.

He sighed through his nose. Once the euphoric cloud in his mind cleared, shame and regret replacing his lusty desire, he moved from his bed to the sink across the room. He turned the knob and a low stream of water fell from the faucet. Taking the dingy rag that rested on the sink’s bowl, he wet it, using it to clean up his mess. As he wiped himself, he wondered if that was what sex was like. He never touched himself like that before, though he wanted to many times. Now that he had, the answer to his question was clear. Sins were just pleasures he was being denied. 

He returned to his bed, burying himself beneath the covers. He took the handkerchief back into his hand and held it by his face as he slept on his side. His eyes grew heavy, the scent of lavender slowly drifting him to sleep. A passing thought in his mind wondered if this is what it would feel like to sleep by her side. He would do anything to just hold her once, to lie on her chest and listen to the sounds of her breathing.

That was his last thought before falling asleep.

Several days would pass since the last time he saw her. They would be long, dreary days spent in the chapel. It snowed relentlessly for three days, making it impossible to venture out. During that time, he would clean and help Chastity serve meals to the orphans that sought refuge from the streets. The day when the snow finally ceased to fall, Mary Lou tasked him with shoveling the street in front of the chapel while she took Modesty and Chastity into town.

It was once he finished shoveling that he realized he had the rest of the day for himself. He pondered staying in the house for a moment, but quickly threw the idea. He couldn’t bear another minute in that house. Instead, he went on a walk. It wasn’t unusual for him to do this when he had the time. He would walk aimlessly just to get away. He only could afford to when his mother left him alone.

Today, Credence found himself at Central Park. It was no surprise that the park was packed. The low temperatures of the past week allowed the lake to freeze over, thick enough for people to skate on. Men, women, and children scattered across the area. Carolers were singing Christmas songs and street vendors peddled treats. It was a pleasant and lively scene.

He had almost forgotten that Christmas was so soon. He’d been so caught up with his duties it had slipped his mind. He liked Christmas, even though he didn’t celebrate it the way most people do. His mother forced him and his siblings to attend church on Christmas Day. But he could appreciate what others did on Christmas. He liked seeing the kids play in the snow, showing off their new toys. He liked the idea of parents spending time with their children by the fire. He even liked listening to Christmas songs that would play on repeat outside the record store.

Credence watched the people as he walked through the park. He liked to imagine himself in their place. Sometimes he was a kid playing fetch with his dog. Sometimes he was a woman making snow angels, or a man building a snowman. Right now, he was the man of a couple skating on the ice, holding hands with his partner. The pair laughed as they spun in circles, occasionally grasping at each other’s arms when they slipped.

He was too busy projecting he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. Like any other creature, he was susceptible to attack. He flinched as he felt icy-cold pellets burst against the back of his head. He heard a sharp gasp not far behind him, followed by a heap of childish giggles. Credence turned around, expecting to see a group of devious looking children. Imagine his surprise when he saw her standing ten feet away from him with a group of children looking incredibly guilty.

“Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry, Bunny! I was aiming for your shoulder, I swear!”

“(y/n)?” He muttered in disbelief.

How did she always appear in the least expected places? He stared her down as she rushed towards him. Today she was wearing a heavy, brown fur-lined coat and a green cloche hat that matched her boots. When she reached him, her hands immediately reached behind his head to dust the remaining remnants of her snowball from his hair.

She looked at him apologetically. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I feel like a total gink,” she pouted.

His cheeks burst into flames. The position she put him in had her chest brushing pressing against his as her hands brushed through his hair. At this angle he could see how neatly curled her hair was under her cap, falling in styled swirls around her face. Her swollen nose was red from the cold. Her breath that smelled distinctly of coffee beans warmed his cheeks.

Credence’s expression softened, a faint smile ghosting his lips. She was still apologizing to him, frantically brushing snow from his hair and shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he said in hopes to calm her. 

She closed her eyes and sighed. Her head lulled forward, hiding her face in his chest. “You’re angry with me, aren’t you?” He heard her muffled voice say.

Credence swallowed the lump in his throat and nervously licked his lips. This was the closest she’d ever been to him. He reached a dithering hand to grasp hers and rubbed the back of her gloved hand with his thumb.

“I’m not angry,” he assured her.

(y/n) lifted her head from his shoulders to meet his eyes, searching for any sign of irritation. “Are you sure? You can get me back, if you want.”

Credence nodded his head. “I’m sure.”

She believed him this time, her relief washing over her face. “I really am sorry,” she said one final time. “I just saw you walking past by chance and I wanted to surprise you.”

“I was surprised!” He said a bit too excitedly.

This made her laugh and playfully push his shoulder. Her laugh alone was enough to put a smile on his face, one that made dimples appear on his cheeks. He felt her hand firmly grasp his, holding it properly.

“Why aren’t you wearing your new coat and gloves?” She asked. “Don’t you like them?”

Credence had forgotten he wasn’t wearing the coat you got him. He couldn’t, not without his mother seeing it. If she knew about the coat—if she knew about him seeing you—she would be furious. He kept the coat (y/n) had given him hidden with the rest of the precious things she gave him. He wore the old navy blue coat out that Mary Lou had recently acquired and given to him. It wasn’t nearly as warm or stylish as the coat (y/n)  had gotten for him, but it was enough for the winter, and it was the only thing he could wear in front of his mother.

“I do like them,” he answered. “I was afraid of ruining it. I don’t want to wear it out too much.”

It was the best excuse he could think of at the time, and after mulling over it for a brief moment, she seemed to accept it. She then told him that, if he did end up damaging his new coat, she would simply buy him another, and spoke no more of it.

She nodded towards the lake behind him. “Did you come here to skate?”

Credence looked back to the lake. “Oh, no,” he said. “I never learned.”

Another gasp left her lips. “You’ve never been ice-skating before?”

He shook his head.

“Then we’ve got to fix that, now don’t we?” She reckoned.

Before he could ask what she meant, she’d already left his side. He looked in all directions until he saw her talking to an older couple sitting on a mess of picnic blankets under a tree. It appeared she’d asked him a question because their answer was a shake of their head. She waved goodbye to them before walking off to pursue another person, who gave the same answer. He watched her do this a few times around a small area of the park with no luck. At one point, she stood in the middle of the snow pondering while she scanned the area. Curious, Credence walked up to her.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Looking,” she replied simply.

Her squinted eyes panned across the park, her lips pursed as though she were thinking very hard about something.

“Ah!” She shouted, a triumphant smile stretching across her lips. She turned to Credence and winked. “Follow my lead.”

She walked down a small hill towards a small group of children who were playing in the snow at the bottom. Credence followed a few steps behind.

“Hey, kiddos,” She waved.

The kids stopped what they were doing to look up at her. She waved her hands towards her, beckoning them over. The children shared confused looks, before cautiously making their way towards her. She squatted down Asian style to meet their eyes. Credence stayed a couple of feet away, but he could still make out what was being said.

“Can you keep a secret?” He heard (y/n) ask the children.

The kids nodded and hummed in confirmation. (y/n) grinned.

“You see my friend over there?” She pointed behind her, directing the children’s attention to Credence. “He’s never been ice-skating before!”

The children snickered whispered teasingly among themselves. Credence looked away, embarrassed to be taunted by children. (y/n) giggled with them and easily brought back their attention.

“I really want to teach him,” She revealed once their jeering ceased. “But he’s so silly, he forgot to bring a pair of skates.”

“That is silly!” One of the little girls yelled.

(y/n) looked between Credence and the children. “Now, I see you have a pair of skates.” Sure enough, there were a pair of skates laying in the snow where the kids were once playing, far too big to fit on their small feet.

“Do they belong to any of you?” (y/n) asked.

“No,” The little girl shook her head. “They were already there.”

“We think someone left them by mistake,” An older boy chimed in.

“I see,” (y/n) hummed. “Do you think I can take them for my friend, then?”

“But we was gonna use ‘em! We saw them first!” A small blond boy frowned. (y/n) looked at the boy and flashed her kindest smile.

“Oh, were you now? How about I just borrow them? I’ll bring them right back to you, I pinky promise!” She held out her pinky for him to take. The boy looked at her hand in front of him. He lifted his hand and stretched out his pinky.

“I guess that’s okay...” He mumbled through puffed red cheeks.

(y/n) hooked hers around the boy. “Aren’t you sweet?” She affectionately pat the top of his head. “I hope my kid will be as kind as you are.”

The boy blushed and swat her hand away from his head, adjusting his hat. “Whatever, Lady!” The blond boy ran away, the rest of the children chased after him with childish taunts.

(y/n) chuckled and rose back to her feet. She walked up to where the skates were laying and picked them off the ground before making her way back to Credence’s side.

“Are you ready?” She asked excitedly.

Credence shrugged his shoulders, still processing the events of the last fifteen minutes. (y/n) scoffed and rolled her eyes, forcibly taking Credence’s hand.

“Just come on,” she groaned as she dragged him towards the lake.

When they reached the edge of the ice, she handed him the skates and ordered him to strap them onto his boots. Credence did as he was told and sat down on the nearest bench, securely strapping the skates onto his shoes. After (y/n) had double-checked to make sure they were on right, she held out her hand for him to take. He grabbed it, using her to find his balance. When he stood to his feet his ankles wobbled, disrupting his balance.

(y/n) gripped his arm tightly to keep him from falling. “Careful,” she warned.

He held on to her as she guided him to the lake. She stepped on the ice with ease. She grabbed his other hand and helped him step on the ice. Immediately after his skates touched the ice, his heart raced.

“I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” his voice fluttered anxiously.

“You’re okay, I got you,” she promised.

She pulled him further out onto the ice, still clasping his hands. Credence gripped her hands for dear life while silently trying to figure out how it was he ended up in this position.

Other skaters flew past them as he stumbled on the ice like a baby deer. (y/n) didn’t give up on teaching him. No matter how many times he slipped or tripped, she was always there to catch and pick him back up when he fell. Eventually, he got the hang of it. He started balancing himself on his own, gliding somewhat smoothly without having to hold on to her. It didn’t take long for him to relax and reciprocate her playful activities.

(y/n) eventually stepped off the ice, giving him the space to skate on his own. She watched him fondly, taking in the smile glowing on his face. He went around in circles, almost bumping into others a few times, but he directed himself easily. She would say he was a natural.

He went on like that for a while as she watched. When he’d had enough, he made his way back to the edge of the lake where she stood.

“Was that fun?” She asked when he skated towards her. Credence nodded his head and smiled bashfully. She helped him stop by taking his outstretched hands. 

“You’re a fast learner. I’m kind of jealous. I didn’t get the hang of skating until I was twelve,” she brooded jokingly. “Are you done?”

“Yes,” he said as he stepped back on the snow. 

They walked towards the bench, and Credence sat down to take off his skates. (y/n) stayed standing. “There’s a vendor selling treats across the street,” she told him. “Why don’t you give those skates back to the kids while I get us something to drink?”

“But––” Credence tried to protest, not having the courage or social skills to approach a group of children. It was quickly ignored, however, for (y/n) had already made up her mind, and began walking to the street. 

“I’ll be right back!” She said as she left him alone on the bench. 

Credence looked around, silently doubting his ability to find the kids. His eyes scanned the park until they landed on a group of children having a snowball fight. He recognized one of the children as the bratty boy (y/n) convinced to let them borrow the skates. 

He reluctantly got up from the bench and walked over to the children, skates in hand. The closer he got, the louder their shouting laughter became. Most of the children were boys between the ages of seven and thirteen, but three girls around their age had gained their friendship. One girl stayed off to the sidelines watching the others play. He recognized her as well.

“Excuse me... little girl?” He called. The little girl turned around and held out the skates. “Here.”

The girl took them and smiled. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

She looked behind him, frowning when she saw nothing there. “Where’s that nice lady?”

Credence pointed across the street towards the street vendor where (y/n) was patiently waiting in line. “She should be back,” he told her.

“I like her!” said the girl. “She’s very pretty, like a princess!”

This made him smile. It made him happy to know others, even children, saw her the way he did. “Yeah,” he agreed. “She is.”

The little girl looked at Credence, noting the soft smile on his face as he watched you. “Do you like her or something?” She probed unexpectedly. 

“Uh... I...?” Credence struggled to find the words to say. It's not that he didn't know the answer, it was just that he hadn’t expected to be asked that question. Especially not from an eight-year-old girl. Were his feelings that transparent? Did you know how he felt too?

The little girl didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, I think she likes you,” she told him, surprising him for the second time.

Credence flushed pink. “Really?”

The small girl reached her hand to pat Credence's arm and imitated the look of someone wise beyond her years. “Trust me. Women know these things.”

Oddly, he couldn’t help but feel a bit hopeful despite the words coming from a child. He never felt about anyone the way he felt about her. The way he is when he’s with her—the way he talks to her and touches her—he can only be that way with her because he likes her. He could never be that way with anyone else. But he always felt that, for her, it was different. Seeing her interact with others like the children, the waitress, Raül—even Edmund—made him realize that she was kind to everyone. She didn’t treat him that way because she liked him. She treated him that way because that’s just the kind of person she was.

“Hey, kiddos!” (y/n)’s voice caught his attention. Both Credence and the girl looked up to see her holding a cardboard box of steaming paper cups. “I got something for you!”

The children playing heard her too and ceased their fight to run towards her. They circled her like a litter of puppies, excitedly asking what she was holding.

She lowered the box for them to see, showing off cups filled with light brown liquid. “For letting us borrow the skates. Be careful though, it's hot!”

The kids yelled enthusiastically as she began handing them each a cup. Credence walked to her side to help her.

“What is it?” He asked.

(y/n) frowned. “Hot chocolate. Have you never had hot chocolate before?”

He shook his head, causing her to gasp.

“I wish I had known sooner!” She pouted. “I got this is from a vendor across the street. I could have gotten better hot chocolate with marshmallows at a cafe a block from here.”

“I think it’s delicious!” The little girl interjected. 

(y/n) smiled down at her. “Well, if you think so, then it must be.”

Credence ended up being the one to give the bratty boy his cup of hot chocolate. (y/n) watched him as he drank it greedily. 

“What about you?” She asked him. “Do you like it too?”

“It’s pretty good, I guess,” he said, trying his hardest to sound indifferent, but it was hard to take him seriously with the chocolate mustache on his lips.

(y/n) laughed and took his cheek between her fingers, pinching them gently. “Gosh, you’re so darn cute! Do you have a big sister already? I can be yours, if you want. I’ve always wanted a little brother!”

The boy blushed and pulled his face away from her hand. “Lady, you’re crazy!”

He threw his empty cup on the ground stormed off angrily. The other children finished their cups and handed them back to her nicely before running off too, leaving her and Credence alone. 

“What did I say?” She mumbled to herself.

Credence couldn’t help but find it amusing. It was nice seeing her tease someone else for a change. 

“Maybe he already has a sister,” he answered sarcastically.  

(y/n) scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, just drink your cocoa,” she chuckled after handing him a cup. 

The two threw away the empty cups and cardboard box in a nearby trashcan. (y/n) suggested they take a walk around the park and talk. She asked him if he liked the hot chocolate, to which he answered yes. She then asked which he liked better: vanilla milkshakes or hot chocolate. He told her milkshakes. They talked like this for a while. Occasionally she would ask about his family and what he liked to do at home. He didn’t give her many satisfying answers, but that didn’t stop her from prodding.

“So, did you give up on hunting witches?” She asked.

Credence swallowed another sip of his hot chocolate. “I’m sorry?”

“You don’t carry around flyers anymore. Did you give up?”

“Oh. No, it’s not that,” he said. “I don’t think my mother will ever give up on exposing witches. It’s just that right now she’s kind of stuck.”

“Stuck? Stuck how?”

“She wanted to speak at the church to let everyone know about what she’d seen, but the priest, Father Blackwell, wouldn’t allow it.”

“I know Father Blackwell,” she told him.

Credence perked up. “You do?”

“Yes! My father is a big supporter of the church. Personally, I identify as agnostic, so I don’t go to church with him unless it’s for a holiday like Easter or Christmas. I wonder if you’ve seen him. Not that you could miss him. He’s a rather large man,” she joked.

“Does he wear a white suit?” Credence asked, remembering the stocky man talking with Father Blackwell the last time he visited the church.

(y/n) grinned and nodded excitedly. “That’s his Sunday suit! He has four of them. For some reason, he only likes wearing cream-colored suits on Sundays.”

“I have seen him,” he admits.

“Small world!” She exclaimed. “Well, anyways, I can definitely tell my father to put in a good word for your mother to Father Blackwell.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course! Better yet, why don’t we go right now?”

“N-Now?” Credence gaped.

“It’s Wednesday, they have a service tonight. Father Blackwell will be there, and I can try to convince him to let your mother have a set this Sunday!

“But what about your father?”

“We might not need him. I know Father Blackwell well enough. He might be swayed on my word alone. It won’t hurt to try,” she explained.

“I guess not,” he agreed.

“Come with me, my car is just a short walk from here!” She grabbed his free hand and directed him towards the street where she’d parked her car. 

After they reached the car, she drove him to the church. It was a short fifteen-minute drive from Central Park. It was still too early for the service to start, but when they entered the church, a few people were sitting in the pews praying. An older woman was playing the organ at the altar while Deacon Ripley read scriptures from the Bible. He stopped only stopped when he noticed the two walking down the aisle. 

“Oh, God,” Credence heard (y/n) mutter under her breath. “Not this clown again.”

He wasn’t used to you outwardly showing your distaste for someone; you were always so nice. But considering it was Deacon Ripley, it wasn’t too surprising. 

He was a cunt.

As they came closer, Ripley marked the passage he’d finished reading and closed the Bible. 

“Miss (l/n),” he called her name with a sneer. “What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?”

“I’m here to speak with Father Blackwell,” she replied coldly. It was the first time Credence had ever heard her use such a tone. 

Ripley frowned, taking a step down from the podium. “What business could you have with him?”

(y/n)’s lips curled into a sly smirk. “My business with him would be his business and mine, so why would I tell you our business if it isn’t your business to begin with?”

Her witty remark clearly got under Ripley’s skin. His frown deepened and splotches of red began appearing under his grey skin. He didn’t get the chance to respond before Father Blackwell stopped him. 

“Give it a rest, Ripley.” Father Blackwell had come out from the door to his office. He moved between Ripley and (y/n), and held out his hand for her. “(y/n), it’s lovely to see you. It’s been a while. A year, I think?”

She took his hand and shook it. “Don’t be silly, Father. You saw me earlier this year, remember? For my parent’s Easter party.”

“Oh, that’s right,” he nodded, chuckling softly. “Must’ve slipped my mind. What brings your here, child?”

 “Ah, yes, about that...” (y/n) eyed Ripley. “Can we speak somewhere private, just the two of us?” 

“I don’t see why not. Step into my office.”

(y/n) turned to Credence and gave him a reassuring smile before following Father Blackwell to his office and disappearing behind the heavy door. Credence could feel Ripley’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his head. He obviously wanted to say something to him. 

“Seeing that godless woman walk through God’s doors was not something I expected to see today,” he began, excited to get his two cents in.  “But I must admit, seeing you by her side surprises me more. I didn’t realize you two were so close”

What was his problem? Why did he hate her so much? Then Credence remembered what she said to him in the park. Could that be why Ripley hated her? Because she didn’t believe in the church? No, it had to be something else. His pointed anger felt too personal.  

“We’re not really,” Credence answered. “I only just met her.”

“So you say.” Ripley circled him. “I wonder... Does your mother know about you and Miss (l/n)?”

If there’s one thing Credence hated about Ripley, it was his talent for stirring up trouble. His hobby of collecting and relaying gossip often caused spouts within the church. Credence fell victim to this twice before, each time resulting in a beating from his mother. He had to be careful with what he says to Ripley because he will most definitely relay it to his mother if he thinks it will cause conflict. 

“She does,” he lied as best he could. 

Ripley raised his brows. “Really? I never took her for the kind of woman who would allow her son to stroll the streets alone with such... unholy company. If there’s one kind of person Mary Lou hates, it’s women like her.”

Credence frowned. “What do you mean by ‘women like her’?”

“Don’t you know? Not only does she not accept the Christian God, but she fully denounced him. Instead of saving her divine feminine for holy matrimony, she committed salacious acts with various men that would make the Virgin Mary cry.”

Credence fell silent. So this was the reason. The malicious smirk on Ripley’s cracked lips proved that he couldn’t wait to tell him what he knew. 

“Oh my,” Ripley sighed. “I suppose you didn’t know.”

Credence clenched his fist. He could feel his body vibrating with heat. He was so angry. How dare he speak about her that way? How dare he disrespect her? Spread rumors about her? Was gossip not a sin?  Who was he to degrade and scrutinize her?

So what if she did? He didn’t care. It didn’t matter. It didn’t change what he thought about her. It didn’t change how he felt about her. But hearing such demeaning words come from Ripley's mouth made his blood boil. 

There were times where Credence would get like this. It wasn’t often, but when he did, his mind would think dark, violent thoughts. They build up in his head until anger and rage blinded him. He wanted to say something—do something. He probably would have too, if her voice hadn’t rung in his ears, immediately calming his nerves and the growing anger inside him. 

“Credence, I did it!” 

He saw you rushing excitedly towards him with a big smile on your face. You came up to him, grabbed both of his hands, shaking them wildly. 

“Tell your mother that she can speak this Sunday at the end of the service!”

Credence swallowed the lump in his throat. His tightened chest released the tension it was holding and his hands unclenched to hold hers. Looking into her shining (e/c) eyes made all his violent thoughts disappear as if they were never there. 

He blinked a few times, already forgetting how upset he’d just been. “H-How?”

“Magic,” she winked. 

She hooked her arm around his and began walking him back down the aisle to the exit. “Do you want me to drive you home?” She asked, looking up at him.

Credence smiled, Ripley’s taunting comments fleeing his memory. “Yes.”

The drive took longer than expected. There had been an accident on Manhattan Avenue that detoured them to Harlem. Credence didn’t mind it. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet. Driving through Harlem was an experience in itself. He’d never been past the Upper East Side. Harlem was a lively neighborhood. People played music and danced in the streets despite the cold. Murals lined the walls, and there was a hopping joint around every corner. Credence looked out the window in silent awe, taking in everything he saw. 

“Have you never been here before?” (y/n) asked, noticing his astonishment. 

“No,” he told her truthfully. “It’s really nice.”

“You know, I used to live here,” she revealed.

That, he found hard to believe. His doubt must have been visible on his face because she laughed and shook her head. 

“What? You don’t believe me? It’s true, I swear! I wasn’t always like... Well, we didn’t always live in Kings Point.”

Having something to prove, Credence watched as she made a sudden turn, off course from where they were heading. The townhouses they passed were tall, skinny, and faintly worn down. The further they drove from the commercial streets, the quieter it became. They rounded about four blocks before turning into a barren street. Some houses were completely dark, while others had lights in their windows. The car slowed to a stop in front of one of the dark houses. It wasn’t terribly worn, but chipping blue paint covered the exterior and there were cracks in the brick fence that protected it. 

(y/n) parked the car and moved to get out. Credence did the same, opening the door and stepping onto the pavement. (y/n) came to his side and eyed the house. 

“This was my house,” she spoke after a while. “I lived here until I was nine.”

She walked up to the gate and pointed at the mailbox inside it. Faded letters that spelled her last name were imprinted on the stone from where a sign used to be. He tried to imagine her living it; it was almost comical. He only knew her to wear mink coats and designer clothes. He’d only pictured her living in a palace—somehow it felt fitting. Imagining her in such a small house and living an average life didn’t seem right. But perhaps that’s why she kept surprising him.

“No one lives here now. Sometimes I come back just to look around and remember as much about the place as I can.”

Credence walked to her side. “What do you remember?”

A smile fluttered on her lips. “I remember chasing my brothers around the house. We sat by the fire during the winter while my father read us stories and my mother knitted blankets and scarves. I learned how to ride a bike right on this street!” She looked down at the cracked pavement. “We were happier, I think.”

“Are you not happy now?”

(y/n) looked up at Credence and flushed. “I am! I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just...” She sighed. “Now that my father has his own architect firm, he’s been so busy I rarely see him anymore. My mother and I were never really close, and it’s pretty easy for us to avoid each other in such a big house. I don’t know... Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it.”

“What about your brothers?” asked Credence. “You seem close.”

“We are,” she smiled. “We always had each other, and most of the time it was enough. Even when Aaron left to study at Oxford, Channing paid extra attention to me. Still, I want us all to be as close as we were.”

He could sympathize with that. Blood-related or not, Modesty and Chastity were his sisters. They’d been through a lot together, and that was enough for him. He didn’t know what it was like to lose a close relationship with a parent, having never had one in the first place—but he figured that’s what made it worse. 

“Anyway,” she elbowed him playfully. “D’you believe me now?”

Credence nodded. She chuckled softly, taking his hand and guiding him back to the car. They continued the rest of their drive uninterrupted. It was relatively quiet aside from the few comments she made along the way. By the time they reached Pike Street, it had started to snow again. It wasn’t heavy like the days before. The snowflakes fell slowly and softly, fluttering down gracefully on the window-shield. 

The care halted to a stop on the street corner. (y/n) turned to Credence, who was already looking at her. 

“Thank you,” he said. “For helping me.”

She smiled and looked down at her hands. “You don’t need to thank me,” she blushed. “I was happy to.”

“Still, I want to. Thank you, for everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

They regrettably said their goodbyes, something Credence hated doing because he was never sure when he’d see her again. He stepped out of the car and onto the icy street, turning to wave goodbye at her one last time before watching her drive off down and disappear behind the buildings once she rounded the corner. Credence turned on his heels and walked back to the snow-covered chapel. His feet dragged behind him to stall his arrival. He walked up the creaking steps to the door and opened it lackadaisically. 

He began stripping himself of his outerwear when he noticed another presence in the room. He looked to the stairs and found his mother, Mary Lou, sitting there. Her icy blue eyes bore into his skull. Credence got a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach, a vestigial remnant of primal instinct that signified impending danger. 

“Hello, Mother...” He said upon seeing her. She didn't respond. She only looked at him in a way that made him increasingly nervous. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

“I have some good news.” His mouth began moving before he could think. “Father Blackwell said he would let you speak this Sunday. It’s towards the end of service, and he is only giving us three minutes to speak, but that’s better than nothing, right?”

“Did your jezebel tell you that?” She spoke dangerously.

Credence’s body tensed. “What are you talking about, mother?” He asked, fearful he already knew the answer.

Mary Lou opened her hand to reveal the pink handkerchief. His stomach dropped as she threw the cloth down at his feet. Mary Lou rose from the stairs, her heels thumping loudly as she climbed down.

“I saw you at the cathedral, Credence. You and your little harlot,” she said as she walked towards him. “I was on my way to speak with Father Blackwell when I saw the two of you skip outside with her clinging to your arm.”

Credence kept his head down, staring at the handkerchief by his feet. Mary Lou circled him like a vulture ready to pick at a rotting carcass.

“I always knew your flesh was weak... but I didn’t know all it took was a pair of big (e/c) eyes to make you fall from grace.”

“Mother, I—” The sound of her heavy hand slapping across his face cut his sentence short, sending him to the ground. 

“Silence!” She ordered. Credence felt tears prickling behind his eyes. He stared at the handkerchief lying pathetically on the floor. Mary Lou’s pointed black shoe came into his view and stepped on the delicate silk. Mary Lou was never one to yell, that’s what made her anger so much more terrifying. She spoke barely above a whisper, in a sickeningly sweet and proper tone, the cruel words that left her thin lips.

“The worst part of it is: you tried to hide it from me. You knew what you were doing was a sin. You knew that God was watching, and you did it anyway.”

“Mother, it’s not what you think,” Credence said through his strained tears. “I didn’t touch her!”

“Don’t lie to me, Credence, I saw the way you looked at her!” Mary Lou seethed. “You think I wouldn’t notice you sneaking in late? That I wouldn’t smell the perfume on your clothes?”

Credence fell silent, realizing that denial was futile. It didn’t matter what he said. Mary Lou had already set her mind about his relationship with (y/n). He knew it was too good to be true. He had been happy for far too long. He should have expected it wouldn’t last. He always screwed everything up somehow. This was his own fault. He deserved this.

“You know what I have to do now, don’t you?” She whispered.

Credence did know. His heart thrashed in his chest, fear coursing through his veins. “Mother, please, don’t!” he begged feebly. “I won’t see her again, I promise!”

Mary Lou kneeled in front of Credence. Her hand reached up to lift his head. He forced himself to look her in the eyes, his vision blurred from his tears. They were unfeeling and as cold as the words that left her lips. 

“I know you won’t. We’ll make sure of that.”

More people die in winter than in any other season. That is a known fact. The blistering cold is more dangerous than the smoldering heat. During the winter, everything dies. The plants die, the animals die, even the sun dies just a little.

“Credence?”

There was nothing worse than winter, he thought. There was nothing worse than being left in the cold, wet, nodding in and out of consciousness—somewhere between life and death. Maybe he was being dramatic. He’d survived this at least twice before. He will be allowed back home, eventually. He would be given a hot bath and warm clothes. He would be wrapped in a blanket and laid on his bed. He would be forgiven.

But, in this moment, he had no warmth. The clothes on his back were damp, sticking to his skin like icy sheets. His already pale skin looked almost as white as the blanket of snow that covered the city, save for the faint blue tint of his lips.

“Credence.”

At first he’d thought walking would make him warmer. Maybe if he moved his muscles, his body would produce what little heat it could. Thinking back on it now, it was a pretty stupid idea. If anything, it made it worse. The wind had picked up, and the snow fell faster than it was earlier. How long had he been out here? It could have been twenty minutes or an hour, he couldn’t tell. Time moves slower when you’re miserable. What he did know was that he had walked about four blocks from the chapel. He thought he might find a place, a warm place where he could sit and rid himself of the cold.

He’d try a tea shop, a restaurant, and a bookstore before giving up. No one would let him in. They were all closed early for the holiday season. He then became increasingly aware how late in the afternoon it was, and how much colder it would be once the sun finally set. And he would still be here, cowering in a filthy alleyway that smelled heavily of rotting food and urine.

“Credence!”

How did she always mange to find him? Her large eyes bore into his own, wide and unyielding. She was close enough that her short breaths gave him the first gust of heat he’d felt since he was thrown out of the chapel. Unlike before, it didn’t smell of coffee beans, but of the hot chocolate they had shared just hours before. If the sweet scent hadn’t filled his nose, he would have sworn she was a hallucination. This was the last place he’d expect to see her. Yet, she always had a knack for turning up in places he’d least suspect. Regardless of what she always said, it felt a little more than coincidence—something just shy of fate.

“What are you doing out here? Where’s your coat?” Her hands flew to his shoulders, her own body reacting to the lack of warmth jolted and shivered.

It was her kind eyes he liked the most. Her eyes had the greatest warmth, the kind that filled your chest whenever you looked at them. He could stare into them forever and never get cold. Her eyes are what he’d miss the most.

“You’re soaking wet! You’ll freeze half to death out here! Come to my car, It’ll warm you up.” She reached for his hand, but he would not give it to her.

“Go away.”

This he could not say while looking in her eyes. It would only make it harder. There was an unpleasant pause, one that continued for a second too long. Her voice, he would miss the sound of her voice as well. He wanted to remember it as best he could, even if the last words she would say to him were full of resentment.

“What?”

He turned his back to her, hiding his tears. He had to do this. It was bound to happen anyway. What was the point in watering a dead plant? The fantasy should have long since ended. It shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

“I’m fine. Just go away,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

But he wasn’t fine, and he didn’t want her to leave. He wanted to follow her to the car, where she’d wrap him in the wool blanket she kept in the back seat, and she’d hold his hands to keep them warm.

She scoffed, her heels scuffing on the asphalt as she stepped back, exasperated. “Yeah, right, you’re one minute away from mummifying out here! Just get up and come with me!” She reached for him again, taking his hand. Her touch. He’ll miss her touch.

“No!” He jerked away from her gentle hands.

He didn’t need to see her face to know it hurt her. It hurt him just to say it. But he had to. He made a promise he had to keep. No matter how much it hurt. The next words to fall from his lips would be nothing but lies to mask the truth.

“I don’t need you.”

I do.

“I don’t need your help.”

Help me.

“I don’t want to see you anymore!”

Please don’t go.

Another pregnant silence. The lump in Credence’s throat was large enough to suffocate him. Every time he tried to swallow it down, it would grow bigger, prompting more tears to stain his cheeks.

“You don’t want to see me anymore?” She repeated. Her voice was as cold and steady as the snow that fell around them.

Everything dies in winter. The plants die, the animals die, even the sun dies just a little. The sound of her heels knocking on the asphalt faded along with her warmth. He’d call out to her if he wasn’t a coward. He would tell her the truth and beg for her forgiveness if he had the strength. But when he couldn’t smell lavenders or vanilla, or feel her unwavering warmth, he knew that it was too late. She was gone.

He fell to the ground, burying his head in his knees to muffle his pained cries. The icy ground didn’t phase him. He felt nothing but the ache in his chest and the swell of his throat. He wondered if that pain would ever go away. Could he continue on like this? With the feeling that a part of him had been taken?

He unclenched his fist, revealing frayed pink fabric; the stitched golden letters staring back at him mockingly. It was the only surviving piece of the handkerchief his mother burned. He’d picked it from the ashes before she threw him out on the streets. The smell of ash and smoke dulled the scent of lavender and vanilla it once carried. But, if he focused hard enough, he could still smell the traces of her perfume. For now, it will be enough.

He sat in the alleyway until the early night sky replaced the setting sun. He would sit and listen to the passing cars and pedestrians in silence, until he could no longer feel the fabric in his hands, or the sting of his aching muscles. His swollen eyes grew heavy, barely staying open longer than a second. He closed them, letting his body relax and fade slowly into nothingness.

Slipping in and out of consciousness, he stayed curled in the alleyway, unaware of his surroundings. Unaware that a car had parked outside the alley entrance. Ignorant to the footsteps that neared his meek form and the shadow that loomed over him. He was oblivious to it all until he felt a weight on his head and shoulders. He pried his eyes open to find himself wrapped in a thick wool blanket.

A dainty (s/c) hand opened for him, tempting him to take it; his saving grace.

“I’m not going to leave you like this. I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”

Her eyes weren’t angry. They weren’t cold or full of resentment. They were as kind and warm as they always had been, perhaps even more. Her rosy lips held a gentle smile just for him.

“You don’t have to see me again after tonight,” she concurred. “But I need you to get in the car. Please, Credence. Just one more night, then you’ll never have to see me again.”

Had it been anyone else, he would have refused. The hold his mother had on him was stronger than the yearnings of his heart. His fear of her would keep him from acting on his desires—what he truly wanted. It had been that way for as long as he could remember. But now, with her hand outstretched for him to take, there was no nagging fear pulling him away. No voice in the back of his head vilifying him from acting on his whims. Because, for the first time, someone had heard what he didn’t dare to say aloud. For the first time, someone cared. 

Had it been anyone one else, he wouldn’t have taken their hand. He wouldn’t have stood from the frozen ground or walked towards their car. Anyone else, and he wouldn’t have gotten inside and felt the heat melt his frozen muscles. If it was anyone but her, he would still be wasting away in the freezing, damp alleyway. 

“Just try to relax and get warm,” she told him as they drove off. He didn’t have the strength to speak. He was far too tired. She could see from the corner of her eye that he was falling asleep. His head rested on the window, his bloodshot eyes struggling to stay open. She took his hand that rested in his lap. It was cold to the touch, like ice, as if no blood coarsed through his veins. 

She refused to let go, instead she held it tighter. “Rest. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

If he wasn’t already drifting to sleep, he would have asked where she was taking him, but his eyes refused to open, and his lips would not open to pose the question. Instead he let the motion and hum of the car lull him to sleep. 

New York City was known for many things: its gigantic skyscrapers, the lively scene, the people. But it was easy for tourists to see what the locals could not. New York City was by no means as glorious as its reputation would like you to believe. Everything great about it was reserved for people who could afford it. Shopping, clubbing, broadway, the cinema; it was all novelty. The grit of New York City was something the average New Yorker would like to escape. If the city was as great as it was made out to be, then why did the wealthy live upstate in their palatial mansions? It’s because beyond the smog and stench of the city was fresh air, and acres of woodlands and grasslands to admire. 

That’s all Credence could see when he opened his eyes from what felt like a year’s rest. From the passenger window he could make out the shadows of tall, snow covered maples and oak trees rushing past. The road was long and winding, twisting through the scenic route with ease. 

Beyond the trees, he could make out the orange lights of houses drawing near. It wasn’t long before the trees were replaced by vast mansions with plunging yards, overly decorated for the holiday season. The drowsy fog had barely lifted from his mind to take in such a foreign sight. As his mind awoke, so did the rest of his senses. He became aware of his body, and how it was no longer cold and wet. He could feel his blood circulating in his hands and feet, allowing them to move and wiggle as he pleased. His nose was no longer stuffed, and the numbness in his face had left. 

Taking a peak through the corner of his eye, he saw her; her eyes focused on the road. The light from the passing mansions cast shadows over her features. She was otherwise relaxed, if it weren't for the faint wrinkle of her forehead, the kind that appeared when she was deep in thought. He was too afraid to say anything. Even if he wasn't, he wouldn’t know what to say. Things had happened so suddenly, he couldn’t keep up.

Instead, he kept silent and watched the houses roll by as she drove. Trapped in his thoughts, he began to realize just where she was taking him. He didn’t know why she thought to bring him here, or what she planned to do, but he concluded she was taking him to her home. He’d never been to Kings Point before and he never imagined going within his lifetime, but he could say with confidence that it did not disappoint.

Kings Point was exactly how he imagined it, save for a few minor details. Under different circumstances he would be awestricken, but tonight he didn’t have the energy for it. All he had the energy to do was count the mansions they passed in his head. It was better than thinking of the events that lead him there.

He counted seventeen pompous manors before the car’s speed gradually reduced to a cruise. He watched as a large manor with swooping gable roofs and multiple chimneys came into view. An untouched layer of snow blanketed its long front yard. Windows were plentiful, all of which were lit with those distinct orange lights.

The car pulled into the long driveway, normally protected by a gate, but tonight that gate was left open, allowing them to drive through with ease. As they drove closer to the main manor, he could see the two other sprawling houses that surrounded a large courtyard highlighting a marble fountain.

When the car came upon the front of the manor, there was a man in a black tailcoat tuxedo waiting for them. The car came to a stop, and the man came around the hood to the driver’s door.

“Miss (y/n), welcome home,” he said as he opened the door. (y/n) thanked him, taking his outstretched hand and stepping onto the scalloped cobblestone.  

When the door closed behind her, leaving Credence inside. The two were clearly conversing, presumably about him. She would steal a glance at him through the window a few times while she spoke. The man, who he could now see was no longer in his youth, only nodded compliantly. When the two seemed to come to an understanding, (y/n) walked around to his side of the car, opening it for him to step out.

“Follow me,” She said, taking his hand.

She wasted no time pulling him from his seat and leading him off to some side entrance of the manor. The door they entered was smaller than the wide, double-doors he saw at the front entrance. Inside was just as grand as the outside. The door they took lead to a kitchen as big as the chapel he lived in. Currently, it was packed with chefs prepping large platters of food and servers organizing the trays.

(y/n) clasped his hand tightly as they bulldozed their way through the kitchen. She apologized to the passing help, weaving her way through to the door that stood on the opposite end of the room. Credence kept his head low, allowing her to guide him. Once they reached the adjacent door, she pushed her way through, pulling him down a hallway that he could see led to a set of stairs.

They were rushing down the hall when they passed a side room they didn’t realize was occupied. Their footsteps prompted the voice of a woman to call out into the hall.

“(y/n), honey, you’re back already?”

(y/n) stopped in her tracks, cursing under her breath. She held her finger up to her lips, telling Credence to stay quiet.

“Yes.” She answered.

The woman called out again. “I thought the shops would be busy today.”

“They were.”

“Well, did you get everything you wanted?”

“Yes.”

There was a moment’s pause before the woman spoke again.

“Alright,” she said. “Don’t go picking at the food in the kitchen! You’ll just have to wait until tonight like everyone else!”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. “Alright, Mom.”

She signaled for Credence to continue walking towards the staircase as her mother continued to talk from the room.

“And once you put your gifts away, come back and help me finish arranging the poinsettias in the foyer!”

“I will!” She yelled back while pulling Credence up the stairs.

She practically dragged him down the upstairs hall and pushed him into a room, closing the door behind them. That flowery scent that was distinctly hers immediately overtook his senses. The wide, circular room was lit up by various lamps and a sparkling chandelier made of iridescent crystals that hung at its centre. The dark wood panelling of the walls contrasted the rosy accents: blush pink art deco wallpaper, tall white drapes that covered balcony doors, the various mix-match carpets that covered the wood floor like patchwork. The broad circular bed enclosed in a silky white canopy sat against the wall next to a small fireplace. On the other side was a door he assumed led to a bathroom.

(y/n) stood awkwardly by a three-mirror vanity, bashfully fiddling with a silver hairbrush. She’d shed her coat.  

“Sorry about her,” she muttered. “She gets like this around the holidays.”

It was overwhelming, being in her room. He’d barely had a moment to register all that was happening. Now that he had the chance to breathe, his anxiety got the better of him. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He should be in the city, on his knees begging his mother to forgive him, not miles away in King’s Point; and definitely not in her bedroom.  

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here—”

“You promised me, Credence,” she interjected, silencing him. “Please... Just let me have tonight.”

He clenched his jaw, turning his head to stare at the wall. It was better than looking in her eyes. He heard her move from the vanity. The sound of a cabinet being opened caught his attention. She had an armoire of her own, though hers was grander than his. It towered over her, composed of white and gold painted wood. From inside, she retrieved a blueberry colored suit. Credence recognized it as the suit she eyed in the window the week before. 

“I got you something,” she said, placing the suit on the bed, along with a fresh pair of brown oxfords. “I know you told me not to... but I just couldn’t help myself.”

Credence walked to the edge of the bed, brushing the material with his fingers. She got this for him.  

She moved to a dresser, where she pulled a neatly folded white towel and cloth from the drawer. She walked back to his side, holding the towels out for him to take.

“There's a bathroom behind that door. You can take a bath and get yourself ready. I’ll come back once I’ve finished helping my mother.”

He took the towels from her hands, leaning towards the idea of a bath. His body still hadn’t completely warmed from the ride, and his clothes still stuck uncomfortably to his skin. She left him alone in her bedroom, closing the door behind her as she left.

Credence stayed by her bed even after she had left. He took the suit into his hands. The material was thick and soft. He could tell by the fine stitches it was of high quality, unlike the suit he currently wore. He collected the pants and shoes in his arms and walked to the bathroom door. Much like the bedroom, her bathroom was big. A porcelain bathtub resting on top of golden legs facing a large window that looked over one of the gardens. Credence walked across the mosaic floor and turned the knob of the tub. Hot water rushed from the faucet and filled the tub. Steam rose into the air, forging the mirror above the sink. He placed his clothes on a stool away from the tub so it wouldn’t get wet.

Stripping himself of his clothes, he dipped his foot into the warm water. Pleased by the feeling of the hot water heating his skin, he pulled the rest of his body into the tub and submerged himself until only his head remained above water. He sat in the water unmoving for a while with his eyes closed. The water relaxed his tense muscles, ridding his body of the prickling cold. As he sat there, resting his head against the edge of the tub, he thought about how long this would last. Why did she bring him here? 

Credence opened his eyes and found a rectangular bar of soap sitting on the tub’s edge. He lifted his hand from the water and took it, bringing it to his nose. Lavenders. 

He really shouldn’t be here. There was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that was sure something would go wrong. His mind went back to what she’d said. He promised her he would stay with her tonight. He supposed he did, even if he hadn't explicitly say the words ‘I promise’. Taking her hand was more than an answer. 

But he had made another promise—a promise to someone he never dared to disobey so brazenly. He promised he would never see her again, to wipe her from his life and pretend like she never existed. And yet, here he was, laying in her bathtub, washing himself with her soap, wearing the clothes she bought him, and standing in her room. 

Credence stared at himself in the mirror by the armoire, now dressed in the blueberry suit she’d given him. It fit perfectly, as though it were made for him. It probably was. The shoes on his feet were comfortable. At first, he didn’t think they would fit; they were much larger than the pair of shoes he always wore. But after he pulled his socks up and slid his foot inside, he realized it wasn't that the shoes were too big, but his were a size too small. He could walk in them without his toes uncomfortably pressing against the tip. His toes could breathe and soles of his feet didn’t ache with every step. 

He almost didn't recognize his reflection. It was like another person was staring at him in the mirror. He looked like one of the men he admired in Times Square. The handsome scholars who came down from The Eggs to frequent the speakeasies to unwind after a long day of doing whatever rich boys do. He looked like the kind of man she belonged with.

A knock came from beyond the door.  “Are you decent?” Her muffled voice called from behind it. 

The door opened, and she peaked her head inside, meeting his eyes immediately.

“I knew it’d look good on you,” She smiled brightly, making her way towards him. “Does it fit nicely? I tried my best to guess your measurements. I was afraid it would be a bit off.”

He let her place her hands on his chest, smoothing the fabric of any wrinkles. His heart beat in his chest loudly, like it always did when she got this close. He watched her closely as she looked him over, avoiding his eyes. Her hands flew up to the black tie around his neck. 

“Your tie is a bit crooked.” She chuckled softly, taking the tie into her hands. “Let me.”

“Why are you nice to me?” He spoke lowly as she untied the knot. 

She furrowed her brows, her hands halting. “I’m sorry?”

“Most people would have ignored me had they saw me lying on the streets like I was today, and the day we met. Many people did. But you...” Credence struggled to find the words. “You helped me after I had fallen and dropped my papers, then you drove me home. The other week you insisted on buying me a coat, even though I told you I was fine without one, and then you took me to that restaurant. And then today, you convinced Father Blackwell to let my mother speak. You’ve been kind to me without even knowing me. Why?”

(y/n) lifted her head to meet his eyes. “Do I need a reason?” She countered. “Can’t I just want to?”

When he didn’t answer, she understood that wouldn’t be enough. She sighed, focusing her attention back on the tie. 

“Why did I do those things?” She bit her cheek in thought. “The night we met, I saw what that jerk did and wanted to help you. You looked so... sad. People walked over you—ignored you. It was like you didn’t exist, like I was the only one who saw you. I didn’t like it—seeing you like that. I just thought it would be nice to see a smile on your face. Maybe if I saw you smile, it would make me feel better.”

“Now that I’ve seen your smile, I’ve become a bit fond of it. Addicted is probably the better word. After seeing you smile for the first time, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wanted to see it all the time. If stuffing you full of burgers and teaching you how to skate put a smile on your face, I would do it. I would do anything to keep you smiling.”

She looped the tail of the tie and pulled the knot, tightening it around his neck. She adjusted his collar and let her hands fall to her sides. Her eyes flickered up to meet his. 

“So, I guess the answer to your question is: I did those things because I like you.”

Credence swallowed the lump rising in his throat, sending it back down to his chest. His eyes glistened in the light, glazed with rising tears. His heart ached in his chest, still hanging on to her words. ‘Like’? She liked him?

“And now?” His voice cracked. “Do you still fell that way? Even after the things I said?”

“Why did you say those things?” It was clear she had been wanting to ask this for a while. “Did I do something—say something to upset you?”

Credence vigorously shook his head. “No!” 

He clasped her hands tightly, taking her by surprise. “It’s not you,” he tried to explain. “It was never you.”

She held his hands just as tight, like she was afraid he would fade away if she let go. “Then?”

He swallowed again, looking down at his feet. “It’s my mother... she...” 

(y/n) frowned. She lifted Credence’s hand, turning his palm upward to expose the raised scars on his palms. 

“Was she the one who did this to you?” She whispered, though it sounded as if she already knew the answer. 

Credence stayed silent. He didn’t have the strength to say it out lout. 

“Did she leave you out on the street?” She asked, anger rising in her voice. 

“She doesn’t want me to see you anymore,” He muttered, shamefully. 

“Is that what you want?” 

Credence stilled. Nobody had ever asked him what he wanted. They locked eyes, (y/n)’s stared deeply into his, yearning for an answer. He barely opened his mouth to answer when a knock came from beyond the door, the person behind it bursting into the room. 

(y/n) dropped his hands, turning to face the culprit.

“Aaron, how many times have I told you to wait for me to answer before coming in my room?”

Aaron was a stocky man, just a few inches shorter than Credence. His angular face was covered with a tapered beard. He had the same (s/c) skin and (h/c) hair as (y/n), but his eyes were a light brown. He wore a black formal tuxedo with a matching bowtie. The smile on his face fell slightly as he looked between her and Credence. 

“Sorry sis, I didn’t realize you had company.”

(y/n) sighed, crossing her arms. “What do you want?”

Tearing his eyes from Credence, Aaron turned his attention to his sister, his smile widening. “I just thought you might like to say hello to someone.”

(y/n) raised a curious brow. “Who?”

The answer to her question walked in not a second later, dressing in a black fitted full dress tuxedo. He too shared a similar complexion to (y/n) and Aaron, but unlike Aaron, his eyes were the same has hers. He smiled, displaying a row of perfectly straight white teeth. “Hey. Did you miss me, street rat?”

(y/n)’s eyes widened, “Channing?”

Channing chuckled as she sped towards him. “The one and only—Ow!”

(y/n) had punched him hard in the shoulder. “Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?!”

Aaron snickered to the side. “Told you she would do that.”

“Well, that would defeat the purpose of it being a surprise, now wouldn't it?” He said, clutching his sore shoulder. “Can’t you act like a normal sister and be happy I’m back?”

“I am happy, you jerk,” she smiled, pulling him into a hug. He hugged her back gladly. It was clear the two missed each other greatly. 

“(y/n), who’s this?” Channing asked, looking over her shoulder at Credence.  

(y/n) too looked over her shoulder, her lips still holding her elated smile. “Aaron, Channing, this is Credence. He’s my plus one for tonight.”

“Right.” Aaron skeptically squinted at Credence. “And do Mom and Dad know that you have a boy in your room?”

(y/n) placed a hand on her hip. “I don’t know. Do Mom and Dad know about you and Mr. Finnegan’s daughter?” She deflected with a glare. 

Aaron cleared his throat, wrapping an arm around his younger brother and pushing him towards the door. “We’ll see you downstairs.”

“Wait,” (y/n) went to grab Credence by the hand and pulled him towards her brothers.  “Why don’t you show Credence around? You can bond and do whatever boys do while I get ready.”

They all looked at Credence, who was too petrified to protest the proposition. Aaron gave Credence a look that made him think he wasn’t too keen on the idea, but kept his otherwise cheerful smile. 

“I don’t see why not,” said Channing kindly, flashing an inviting grin much like the one (y/n) had given him many times before. He was starting to see the similarities between the two. 

“Yeah, come on, Credence,” Aaron agreed, throwing his free arm around Credence’s shoulder. “Hang with us guys for a while, we’re much more fun than she is.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes, escorting the men out of her bedroom. Credence’s pleading eyes silently asked for her not to leave him on his own, but she said nothing to stop them. She only gave him a comforting smile from the doorframe as they pulled him from the door. 

“I’ll see you in a bit.” She promised. 

Aaron and Channing dragged Credence down the hall, guiding him to another set of stairs. Unlike the ones (y/n) had sneaked him up an hour before, these stairs weren’t hidden in a corner at the end of the hall. It was a grand bifurcated staircase, with wide, velvet-clad sweeping steps that plunged into a wide landing that split in two directions: upwards to another wing of the manor, and downwards to the foyer. He could hear the music and babbling chatter clearly from the top of the staircase. The two brothers led him down the many steps, and again down the steps to the foyer where a great crowd of well-dressed men and women conversed under dropping garlands and mistletoe.

Without warning, they pulled him into the crowd, weaving their way through fur shawls and padded tuxedos. Tucked away in a corner of the room, Credence saw something he’d least expected: a familiar face. 

There, resting against a paneled wall, was Edmund Tully, drinking from a half finished glass of brandy. His eyes were distant and seemed to dart around the room, looking for something or someone. He wasn’t entirely sure if Edmund found what he was looking for, because when Aaron had called out to him, he gave up on his previous endeavor. 

It appeared that Edmund was not only friendly with Aaron, but Channing as well. They greeted each other as old friends do, with open arms, harmless roughhousing. Credence stood idly by, feeling out of place. It was only when Edmund set his green on him that Credence was pulled into their circle. Aaron noticed his friend’s stare and pointed his attention towards him. 

Aaron gestured to Credence, snapping his fingers. “Eds, this is uh—this is—give me a second—”

“Credence,” Edmund made up for Aaron’s forgetfulness. “Am I right? We met before.”

Aaron and Channing looked between the two unlikely acquaintances. “You have?” The eldest brother asked. 

Credence nodded, confirming Edmund’s claim. 

“Through (y/n), of course,” Edmund clarified. 

“I see,” Aaron hummed. 

A server in a tight vest came up the group of men with a tray full of glasses filled with a pinkish liquid. Credence watched as they each took a glass from the tray. 

“Do you drink, Credence?” Asked Channing, noticing Credence’s empty hand. 

“Sure he does!” Aaron exclaimed, taking an extra glass and shoving a it into Credence’s unsuspecting hand. “It’s Christmas!”

Giving into the pressure of the situation, Credence accepted the drink. It wouldn’t be the worst thing he’s done today. The gentleman made a simple Christmas toast, before taking their own respectable gulps. 

Credence brought the glass to his lips, letting the strange liquid slow past his lips and hit his tongue. Somehow the cold liquid felt like heat on his tongue, vibrating down his throat and spreading that warmth into his chest. It was a strange sensation, but not entirely unpleasant. While it was strong with alcohol, the sugary sweet after-taste made it palatable. He took another sip. 

Credence found Aaron and Channing to be decent men. Channing was more friendly to Credence that Aaron, but it had more to due with the age difference and the extenuating circumstances in which they’d met. He supposed it must have been hard warming up to the strange man who was found alone in your younger sister’s room. 

Edmund on the other hand didn’t address him much at all, only speaking to him when obligated. He had the sneaking suspicion that Edmund didn’t like him at all. Credence could care less. To be fair, Credence wasn’t sure he liked him either. 

Like (y/n) had asked, the two brothers, along with Edmund, showed Credence around the mansion. They took him upstairs and downstairs, through long halls and into opulent rooms that were also filled with partygoers. All the while, they continued to keep a full glass in their hands. Credence had drank four full glasses of pink drink by the time they circled back to the foyer—and they hadn’t even venture half of the vast manor. He wasn’t fully convinced that just one family lived in such a palace. 

They loitered the foyer, the music in the next room traveled well, distracting him from the conversation he wasn’t completely involved in. His eyes darted around the room, glossing over the painted and shaven faces of the other guests. He didn’t know what he was looking for until he found it—or rather— her. 

Descending from the heavens that was the staircase landing was her elegant figure, clothed in a velvety red dress that hung off her shoulders. Her hair fell in waves around her face, adorned with pins that resembled holly. The long pointed sleeves clung to her skin along with the rest of the dress, hugging her figure dangerously. He was the first to see her, and in parallel, she saw him first; her painted red lips curling into a wide grin once their eyes met. 

His chest was filled with a fluttering excitement as his eyes followed her movements drawing nearer. She walked straight towards him, bowing her head shyly as she got closer. The others noticed her too, hooting and hollering as she came, embarrassing her more. 

“The Princess has finally decided grace the party with her presence,” Aaron playfully jeered. 

“It’s not easy being the most attractive in the family, it takes a lot of work to look this good,” She bantered. 

“Tons of it, if you ask me,” Channing muttered snidely as he took a sip of his drink, causing a fit of harmless laughter between all of them but Credence. 

“You look amazing,” Edmund complimented over the giggles. 

(y/n) thanked him, her eyes drifting back to Credence expectingly. Flustered, Credence sputtered the first words that came to mind. “You look beautiful, you always do.”

(y/n) blushed, her girlish smile reaching her ears. Her brothers found the interaction equally amusing, stifling their laughter. Though Edmund didn’t find it so amusing, his once joyous expression faltering. 

“I have to steal my brothers for a moment,” (y/n) revealed. 

“What for?” Channing asked, unaware that he was needed. 

“Mom wants to see us all for a portrait. You were supposed to have been there by now. Daddy’s getting restless,” she told them.

Aaron cursed under his breath, having forgotten about the detail. He turned to his friend and handed him his drink. “It will only be a minute.”

Aaron and Channing hurried off towards the stairs whence (y/n) had come. Before she left, she met Credence’s eye. “Just wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back.” 

She then disappeared up the stairs with her brothers, leaving him alone with Edmund. And then there were two. 

“Why don’t I show you to the gardens,” Edmund suggested after an awkward beat of silence. 

Credence didn’t get the chance to deny the offer before Edmund turned on his heels and headed towards the door, beckoning him to follow. Out of pure obligation, Credence followed, venturing from the manor and out into the cold (though the consistent warm buzzing in his head and chest kept him warm enough). 

Edmund guided Credence around to the main garden that sat in the center of the sprawling houses. Snow covered the hedges and statues that scattered the grounds. 

“Where are you from, Credence?” Edmund asked suddenly as they walked the garden path. 

Credence shrugged his shoulders. “Here.” 

“No, you’re not,” he said. “You might be from New York, but you’re not from here.”

Credence’s brow furrowed. What was he playing at?

“How did you meet (y/n)?” He pestered. 

“In Times Square,” Credence answered. “She helped me when I fell on the street. We kept running into each other ever since.”

Credence wasn’t sure why he was telling him all this, but he felt if he wanted to know, why not tell him? 

“You know, it's charming,” said Edmund. “How you’re sweet on (y/n). It’s pretty obvious. You look at her like a little puppy dog. It’s almost endearing. But it’s pointless.”

“Pointless?” Credence repeated. 

Edmund stared blankly at the younger boy. A sly smirk teetered on his lips.  “Oh, come on. Do you... Do you actually think you have a chance with her?”

Credence’s silence only amused him more, spurring him to laugh tauntingly. “Oh my God, you do! I almost feel bad for you!” It was only now that Credence noticed the subtle slur of his words. “Listen, mate, I’m only saying this because I feel like we could be friends. It's not going to happen. (y/n) is a sweet girl, almost too sweet. She’s oblivious to these kinds of things, you see?” He leaned against a stone post.

“How should I explain this? I’ve watched her grow up, and I have seen many young chaps like you fall all over her. She doesn’t realize her kindness attracts people. There have been many broken hearts left at her feet. You don’t want yours added to the pile, trust me.”

Yes, Credence decided in that moment he didn’t like Edmund at all. He took too much of a likeness to Ripley; they had the same condescending leer. The buzzing of his head wouldn’t allow him to hide his obvious disdain, and for the first time Credence would speak his mind, unafraid of the consequences. 

“Is yours one of them?” He asked boldly. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your heart,” he reiterated. “Is it one of the ones she broke?”

“I—”

“Do you feel threatened by me? Are you afraid that she might not like you as much as you think?” 

“What did you just say to me?” Edmund sputtered. 

Credence continued, feeling no shame for what he was about to slur and stutter. “She’s only nice to you because you’re friends with her brother and she’s known you for so long. But that isn’t enough to win her affection. Deep down, you know that.”

Edmund took Credence by the collar, “I suggest you stop talking,” he whispered dangerously. 

“You say that I don’t have a chance, then what do you have?” Credence chuckled provokingly. “She said she likes me. Has she ever said she likes you?”

“You don’t know a damn thing!” Yelled Edmund, red in the face. “To her, you’re just a pet. A sad little puppy she has to take care of. She’ll give you treats and dress you up like a doll, but it doesn’t mean anything. She’ll never see you as a man.”

“Is this what you do?” Asked Credence. “You drive away any person who you think might come between you and (y/n)? There’s nothing to come between. She’s not yours. She never was. And she’s not mine either. I don’t care if she doesn’t feel the same way I do. That doesn’t matter. But she said she liked me... and I like her.” Credence smiled. “And that is more than anything you’ll ever have with her.”

A powerful fist collided with his left cheek, sending him to the ground. The pleasing buzz in his head was replaced with rushing blood pounding against his temple. 

“I told you to stop talking,” the assailant heaved. 

Credence struggled to his hands and knees. The punch left a metallic taste in his mouth, and a bubbling rage in his stomach. Without thinking, he lunged forward, tackling Edmund to the ground. The two fell in a heap on the cobblestone, wrestling and thrashing violently. Credence got the upper-hand, landing a satisfying punch in the face, leaving Edmund with a bloodied nose. It didn’t last, because as soon as Credence wrestled his way on top, he was back under him, taking blows to the face and ribs. 

He couldn’t react fast enough to defend himself, and honestly, it was a miracle he landed a punch in the first place. He curled into himself to protect his face and ribs. The same vibrating rage he felt earlier that same day with Ripley danced under his skin. His thoughts faded in and out between consciousness, each unfamiliar thought being one of violence and rage. Pure, dark rage. 

Edmund may have got a peak at this entity—a glimpse into it’s glassy white eyes. If he had, he didn't say so. He only hesitated, a look of both confusion and fear flashing over his once blinding anger when their eyes locked. If he had seen those shining white eyes, they disappeared as soon as they came, her voice retreating the beast inside. 

“EDDY! CREDENCE! STOP IT!”

It was a trick of the lights, Edmund would later conclude. A figment of his drunken imagination. But it wasn’t true. The truth was Credence had a part of himself he couldn’t control—a part of himself that could destroy buildings and uproot roads—a part of him he couldn’t control, that is, until he met her. Until the sound of her sweet voice reached his ears and calmed the blackness to its dormant state.  

Edmund was pulled off of him, pushed several feet back while she dove for him on the ground, dirtying her red dress. The light from the lamppost and house gave the illusion that she glowed in the night.

Her eyes were big with worry. “Credence, are you okay? Does it hurt?” She helped him sit up, taking his face gently in her hands. It didn’t hurt. He couldn't feel anything but her warm hands caressing his cheeks. 

“I’m hurt too, (y/n),” Edmund croaked from his place. Aaron and Channing were there, barricading him away. “I got hit too. Why don’t you ask me if I’m okay? Huh?!”

(y/n) glared back at him. “You’re drunk!”

Edmund’s red face became wet with hot, angry tears. “WHY DON’T YOU ASK ME, (Y/N)?! DON’T YOU LIKE ME TOO?”

She held on to Credence's arm, holding him close. “I think you should go,” she muttered. 

Edmund sniffed, a look of pure heartbreak slapping over his chiseled features. “(y/n)...” He called for her one last desperate time, but she turned away, shutting him out completely. 

“Come on, man,” Aaron said sternly, pushing him back. “Let’s take a walk, okay?”

“GET OFF ME!” Edmund pushed Aaron away from him, staggering backward. He took one last long look at (y/n), hoping that she would look at him again. But she didn't. Her eyes stayed trained on Credence. He stepped back, defeated. 

“I can walk by my bloody self,” he slurred bitterly, retreating further into the garden, Aaron chasing after him. 

“Can you stand up?” (y/n) asked softly, taking Credence by the hand and pulling him to his feet. 

Channing helped as well, guiding them both back into the house. They stayed away from the festivities, taking the hidden stairs back up to her room. Channing had retrieved a medical kit after they reached her room, leaving once (y/n) insisted she could care for Credence on her own. 

Now, he sat next to her on her bed, while she shifted through the medical kit. His eyes trained on a young, black, hairless cat played curled up in a stuffed bed by the fire. This must’ve been the cat she had told him about. 

“Do you mind telling me what that was about or are you just going to stay silent?” Asked after the long silence. 

“It was nothing,” he told her, as she took his face in her hands to examine the wounds on his cheek and lip. 

“Yeah, right.” She muttered, taking a wet cotton swab and dabbing it on his scraped cheek. It burned, causing him to wince. She stopped immediately, looking apologetic. “Sorry.”

She went for the medical kit again, rummaging through it messily before stopping abruptly.

“You know what, I’m not sorry! Serves you right worrying me like that! I leave you for one minute and you’re picking fights in the street! Just look what he’s done to your face!” She cupped the side of his face where Edmund had punched him. She sighed, taking another cotton swab from the kit. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to yell. I don’t like seeing you hurt is all.”

He looked at her deeply through lidded eyes as she dabbed the cut on his lip. 

“We were fighting about you,” he confessed.

She stopped, her eyes flickered to his for a moment, before focusing back on his lip. “Me? Why on Earth would you be fighting about me?”

He didn’t say. She waited for an answer, but soon concluded she wouldn’t get one. He hissed when she began applying cream on his cuts. “Fine, then,” she mumbled irritably. “Don’t answer me. Just hold still—”

His lips were on hers before she could finish her harping. The swab fell from her hand in shock, her eyes wide as saucers. He was kissing her. His eyes were closed, his lips plush against hers. He ignored the sting of his cut as he pressed his lips onto hers like he’d seen couples do many times before. His heart pounded in his ears. He would have kept kissing her if he hadn’t held his breath for too long. When they parted, and he opened his eyes to see her staring, awestruck. 

His ears turned red, and a wave of embarrassment crashed over him, realizing what he’d done. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I shouldn’t have—”

Her soft lips crashed into his with passionate force, her hands flying to caress the nape of his neck. Now, it was his turn to be taken aback. Credence had kissed her how shy young couples do: pressing his lips onto hers. But she kissed him like lovers do, moving her lips feverishly against his, licking his lips coyly with her tongue. Imitating her actions, Credence let his eyes fall shut, opening his mouth for her. Her tongue slipped passed his lips and swirled around his, welcoming the foreign sensation.

“(y/n)...” He whimpered out of pure instinct. 

She pulled away, leaving him a blushing, panting mess. 

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you call me by my name,” she whispered. A smile stretched across her lips.  “Say it again.”

Credence’s cheeks burned, but he gladly did what she asked. 

“... (y/n),” he called her name again.

“Again.”

“(y/n),” he repeated.

“Credence,” she whispered his name, sending shivers down his spine.

“(y/n),” he whispered breathlessly. 

“Credence.”

“(y/n).”

She captured his lips in another sensual kiss, pushing him back onto the bed. The medical kit fell to the ground, forgotten. She laid on top of him, her legs wrapped around his thin waist, pressing her body against his like he’d imagined many times before. His heart thundered in his chest, his mind consumed by her. Lavender and vanilla, it was all around him; pressing against him, kissing him, caressing him.

“Credence,” she said between fiery kisses. “I want you.”

“Y-You want me?” He flushed, making her giggle. 

“Yes,” she chuckled, taking his hand. “Do... Do you want me too?” Her voice was small and unsure. 

Credence nodded, lacing his fingers between hers. “I’ll always want you.”

His words seemed to spur her on, reviving her confidence. “Is this okay?”

The touch of her hand on his thigh traveled down to his waist, sending shivers up his spine. The beat of his heart pulsed powerfully in his chest, ringing in his ears. He watched expectantly as she drew nearer, hovering over him. One of her hands rose to tenderly cup his cheek. Her hand was soft and warm against him. The way she touched him was unlike any other. She was always so gentle with him, so kind. 

Their lips were mere inches apart. So close he could feel her warm breath on his skin. She looked at him through hooded lids, her eyes darkened to a deep shade of (e/c).

Credence swallowed. “I...I’ve never...”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” 

She grinned, kissing his lips tenderly to calm his nerves. He felt her fingers move to unbutton his suit jacket. She pulled it off his shoulders, discarding it to the floor.

“Just relax,” she cooed. “I’ll take care of you.”

His black tie slipped off with ease, the buttons of his white dress shirt opened one by one the sound of fabric rubbing against each other and sultry sighs filling their ears. His shirt joined the jacket onto the ground, leaving him half-naked under her. He felt exposed, his eyes nervously fidgeting around the room. 

Her warm hands grazed the sides of his waist, delicately dancing up to his chest. She noticed the change in his breathing, his chest rising up and down in anticipation. He’d never been touched like this by anyone, not once. But now, as her hands glossed over his torso causing goosebumps to rise even though his skin was burning hot, he realized he wanted to be touched by her all the time, in every way. He wanted to kiss her over and over again; to feel her lips against his. He wanted to be close to her in the closest way possible.

As if answering his silent prayers, she pressed her chest against his, her breath tickling his cheeks. She kisses the mark on his cheekbone tenderly, then the corner of his lips, then his jaw. His eyes lull back. He let his head fall to the side, presenting his neck to her. Her hot breath on his neck excited him. Her lip pressed soft kisses down his jaw and neck, marking him with her red lipstick. Her wet tongue licked a stripe up his jugular, and he made a sound he’d only made once before in the confines of his room. 

She did it again, licking, sucking, and biting at the sensitive flesh of his neck. Credence bit his lip, muffling his desperate mewls. 

Her lips kissed up to the spot just under his ear. “It’s okay,” she whispered in his ear. “No one else can hear us. It’s just me.” 

Hoping to drive out more sweet moans, she sucked on the flesh of his neck she learned to be the most sensitive. His hips bucked upwards, grinding between her legs. He squirmed pathetically under her, his desperate pants and moans filling the room. 

His body was sensitive to her every touch, each kiss sending jolts of electricity through his body. She left love bites on the expanse of his neck and collarbone, coloring his pale skin purple and mauve. 

She caught his lips in another open-mouthed kiss, assaulting his mouth with his tongue at her pleasure. 

“Is... C-Can I touch you?” He asked through her kisses. 

She pulled away, her nose brushing against his. “Always,” she breathed. 

His hands daringly glided over her arms, reaching around her back. His fingers found the zipper to her dress and pinched, pulling it down her back until it stopped at her waist. She slid out of the dress with ease, slipping it off her body and letting it pool around her waist. His eyes glued to her bare chest, turning red from the neck up. She took his hands and guided them up her sides, outlining her feminine curves. 

She brought his hands to cup her breasts. His touch was hot on her skin, her own blush burning undeneath. He could feel her heart pounding wildly in his chest, and he knew she was just as excited as him. He let his body act on its own, his hands massaging her breasts. She let out a shaky breath, her mouth falling open. 

He continued, brushing his thumbs against her hardened nipples. Her hips rocked sensually against his twitching member. Her name slipped past his lips, his eyes trained on her figure above him. Her hands pressed on his chest, her hips moving in circles over him. Credence sat himself up, snaking his arms around her hips, gripping them firmly. They stared at each other breathlessly through half-lidded eyes. Credence’s already dark eyes turned to black pools reflecting in the moonlight. 

He mimicked her affections, placing chaste kisses under her jaw. He kissed the expanse of her neck, tasting her soft skin. He pulled her hips into him, guiding her movements in his lap. His length strained against his trousers, aching to be touched. 

“You said you want to touch me, right?” She panted. “Touch me here.”

She moved his right hand from her hip, slipping it under the velvety veil that covered where she wanted him most. He could feel her through thin lacy fabric, her heat already slick with arousal. He experimentally rubbed his fingers up and down her slit, studying the twitches and jolts of her body. She seemed to really enjoy when his fingers brushed against a certain spot, so he kept his attention there, rubbing steady circles around the sensitive area. 

Her hands gripped his shoulders, her head falling to rest in the crook of his neck. He enjoyed hearing her high-pitched moans, even as they were muffled against his neck. He pressed harder, picking up his pace to hear more. Her hips jut against his hand, jerking every so often. Her breaths quickened, and she whimpered his name in his ear. 

“Faster,” she’d pant desperately, her grip on his shoulders tightening. 

He did, circling his fingers as best he knew how. Her thighs tightened around his legs, her body stilled but he didn't stop. Only when he felt her body shake and relax against him did he stop, her sweet satisfied moan reaching his ears. 

He held her in his arms, peppering kisses on her shoulder and neck as she steadied her breathing. When she did lift her head from his neck, she pecked his lips and cheek. She held his face in her hands and moved to lie on her back, pulling him down in the process. 

He planted his hands on either side of her head. He admired her from above. Her red lipstick was faded, smudged messily on her chin, having been transfered on his own lips and neck. She didn’t break eye contact as her hands unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down his waist and kicking them off with her feet along with his boxers. They lingered like that, just staring and admiring one another. He didn’t feel embarrassed. He felt strangely calm. The rest of the world seemed to float away. Nothing else mattered. Not the party down stairs, or the people laughing and drinking. Not Edmund and his jealousy, and not his mother and her vilification. Nothing mattered but her and him together in this room, together in her bed. 

He bent down to kiss her with all the passion and love he could muster. She was everything he could ever want and more. She was his saving grace, his goddess. He wanted to show her how much he loved her. ‘Closer,’ he thought. He needed to be closer to her.

Their lips and hips magnetized, their bodies melded together. He whispered her name like a mantra because he knew she liked hearing it as much as he liked saying it. He felt her hands slip between their bodies, grasping his length. She guided him to where she needed him, his tip pressing teasingly at her entrance. With her help, he eased inside, feeling her wrap tightly around him. They sighed in each others mouth, devouring their intoxicated moans. Her legs wrapped around his waist, urging him further. 

She opened for him like a flower in bloom. His hips moved without having to think. Being with her felt so natural. Every move he made came to him like second nature. His thrusts were slow and gentle, drawing wanton moans from her lips. Her hips rocked into him with equal fervor. She collected his moans with her kiss, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair. 

He lost himself in the feeling of her, his pace quickening. He watched her pretty face morph into varying expressions of pleasure, each thrust of his hips creating a new one. He’d never felt so good in his life. His body tingled and his skin burned pleasantly. He didn’t know it was possible to feel such pure, utter euphoria. 

He fisted the rosy silk sheets, his breath stopping in his throat. She tightened around him, and like a wave crashing down on a cliff side, he came. His body vibrated and twitched above her. He called her name into the air, his spastic thrusts edging her to her end, which—by the sounds of her shameless cries—was as powerful and illustrious as his. 

There was a moment of stillness; a moment in which they heard nothing but their shallow breaths and the crackle of the fire. They could do nothing but stay in their connected position with eyes locked. Credence fell to his side next to her on the bed. His muscles ached and his skin was slick with sweat, but he was filled with unwavering adulation. Eyes still locked, they said so much without needing to say anything at all. His hand found hers, lacing his fingers between her small ones.

They laid there, staring lovingly in each other’s eyes for what felt like hours. He silently adored her, memorizing the details of her features until his eyes grew heavy from exhaustion, slowly falling shut as graceful as the falling snow outside.  

Credence pried open his tired eyes. The fire still burned beside him. It crackled and danced, keeping the exhausted pair warm under the thin sheets. The moonlight broke through the balcony glass door and cast shadows of the curtains across the room. There was no music heard from downstairs and the manor outside sounded empty of all festivities. 

He took the time to embrace her presence. She laid on her side, facing him. Her eyes were still shut, soft snores falling from her lips. She held his hand between their bodies. Her thick (h/c) hair sprawled wildly around her, messed by their passionate love affair. And still, even with her hair a mess, and the corner of her lips wet with drool, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He reached his free hand to brush the fray hairs from her eyes, watching her lips twitch and curl into a sleepy smile when his thumb brushed against her cheek. That smile alone rid his mind of any and all doubts that still lingered. 

There are very few moments in life worth living for. Most things in life are mundane and repetitive, and when they weren't, they were bleak and agonizing. He’d been through it many times before, taking in so much pain he thought death was a kinder fate. But, as he lay next to her, listening to her slow steady breaths, watching the rise and fall of her chest while she slept; he knew he would face it all again, if it meant he could have more of these moments with her.  

[miraculous-trinity-leo]

Whacky Gotham, Goofy New York, and Chaotic Paris.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Chapter 6: Evade The Bats, and Beat The Crows

•—–—–·†·–—–—•

The girls are in the old living room setting up clues (that are absolutely... useless) around Gotham. One being a picture Harley and Multimouse took earlier that day.

"They might think to look here after they realize the clues are fake." - Steph

"Then where else would they not think to look?" - Maria

"W.E, I can get you and Harley in without them knowing easily." - Barbara said with a confident smile.

"But they'll have to go incognito... especially you Harley, no offense, but your outfit stands out just a tad." - Steph

"Ehhh, none taken, I'm sure I can tink of somthin' else tuh wear." - Harley

"I can help with that, but I'll need some clothes and some sewing supplies." - Maria said already thinking of what she could make.

Cass gave a nod and headed out of the room, after a few minutes she came back with t-shirts, jackets, sweaters, shorts, jeans, etc. and droped the pile of clothes infront of the group. She then handed Maria a sewing set she got from Alfred.

"Thanks Cass. I'll get to work on making our costumes." - Maria

"Let me help yuh wit' dat hun." - Harley said as she picked up most of the clothes for Maria

"Thanks." Maria

•—–·Let's see the Chaos shall we·–—•

"You never told us she could use magic!" - Red Hood looking under the table

"I wonder if she can infuse magic with coffee..." - Red Robin said looking in the cabinets for the third time.

"Stop looking for coffee!" - Red Hood

"She could've hidden in here." - Red Robin said while crabbing a mug

"I haven't had enough sleep to deal with this." - Selina then walked over and flopped herself on the couch and proceeded to fall asleep on impact.

"Maria get your tiny self back here right now or else!" - Tony

"Or else what? She Knows MAGIC! What else does she know that you haven't told us?!" - Red Hood

"... I never told you becuase it's meant to be a secret!" - Tony

"Oh, so now you agree with keeping things a secret?" - Red Robin grabbing the coffee

"What else can she do Tony." - Batman

"Well... she's great with tech, can kick butt in a LOT of different ways, has magic, and if she wants to, she can find and know where everyone or anyone is, but I think she gets massive headaches from a wide search like that." - Tony

"Anything else?" - Batman

(Tony thinkng of all the tiny gods she has in jewelery, and that she keeps Paris/friends and family safe on a daily basis, and that she is the well known designer MDC...)"No..." - Tony

As ivy was listening to them talk, she continued to search her garden, until one of her plants had a message fo her.

"Hello Ms. Ivy, please don't help Batman and Iron Man find us, we promise we'll be careful." - Maria

"Where are you?" - Ivy asked whispering into the plant.

After a few minutes Ivy got a detailed plan that Maria, Harley and the girls came up with to evade The IronBat group (Maria thought that would be better than ManMan group 'But it's Bat MAN and Iron MAN, so it has tuh be The ManMan group.' was Harleys defence, but Maria won that one.) and Ivy agreed to help as best she could.

•—–· Over to the Miraculous gang ·–—•

Plagg is cackling like there's no tomorrow.

"Guys something must be wrong, Plagg won't stop cackling, he won't even touch the cheese I gave him!!!" - Adrien

"There's no time for that, we need to find out where the hell Maria is!!" - Chloé

"Hahahaha, Ti- heheh Tikk- pffhaaaaaaahaha!!!" - Plagg

"He's trying to form words!" Adrien cradling Plagg in his hands "What is it my friend? Don't do this, you're to young...*sniff * you're to beautiful!"

"Hehehehe Shhhh- hahaha, she- she- haha...heheh- I'm so p-hehe-Proud wahahaha " - Plagg

"Proud?! She?! Where?! Who, is it Maria?!" - Chloé

"Hhhhhhhhahhaaaaaaaaaa" - Plagg

"Oh God he's wheezing!" - Adrien

"Hey guys, Peter and I got the snacks, found out where Maria might- oh kwami." - Alix walking into the room to a zombie looking Chloé, a panicked Adrien and the Kwami of death/bad luck/chaos laughing himself to death.

"Has he finally lost it?" - Peter

"She has become a true cat! hahahahahaaaaa heheheheeeeeee." - Plagg

Everyone in the room but Plagg "Oh fu-"

•—–· Over to the Batfam ·–—•

So everyone is panicking because for the past hour none of them could find Multimouse. Robin is sitting on the couch next to a now fully awake Selina, Red Hood and Nightwing are once again feeding each other the worst possible situation she could be in, Tony may or may not be hyperventilating, Red Robin is drinking coffee, and Batman is as stoic as ever... well on the outside anyway, on the inside, it's a warzone. Ivy is drinking her tea, slightly worried, but also hiding a small smile.

"What if we ask Oracle to try and help us find her?" - Red Robin

"... Right... Yes, ok let's do that... Bats you do it, I need to sit down." - Tony

•—–· Back to the girls ·–—•

The girls moved everything to the Bat-cave so they could set the route they would take, then the Bat-Computer started ringing.

"Hide!" - Steph

"Where, dere's nuttin' tuh hide behind!" - Harley

"Quick under the Bat-Computer." - Barbara

As soon as Harley and Maria hid under the Bat-Computer, Batman and the rest of the Batfam was on video call.

"Hey guys, what do you need?" - Barbara acting like nothing happened

"We need you to search for Maria, she's in a dark gray suit with pink accents, and she's with Harley." - Batman

"Ok, no prob, I'll contact you when I've found something." - and with that Barbara exited the call.

"Should we start heading out?" - Maria

"Yup, and here are your ID badges, don't lose them. I'll give our Batfam fake sightings, and lead them far away, then once you reach W.E I'll slowly start leading them closer to you." - Barbara

"Thanks, keep in touch if they decide to split up." - Maria

"Roger that." - Steph said giving a solute

•—–·–—•

Soon Multimouse and Harley are running over roof tops again, doing tricks, and stopping petty crimes, Barbara is leading the Batfam all over Gotham, and then they got to W.E, after Maria transformed back, they entered the building. Thanks to Babs, they entered without any problems and had free roam for the entire building, with some exceptions like new weapons designs, or the roof. They were hiding in the building for about an hour on the 7th floor when Barbara called in.

"Hey girls, you might want to be careful, I spotted some of Scarecrows goons a few blocks away, they seem to be heading in your direction, I'd say about 6mins tops until they reach W.E. Best to find a good room to stay in, or get out of there." - Barbara

"Thanks fawh de heads up Babs." - Harley

"Ok, we'll try to get out, let us know if we should turn back or not." - Maria

"Got it, and be careful." - Barbara

Maria and Harley then made their way back down, they were taking the stairs, because they figured it would be quicker, once they were on the second floor, they started to calmly make their way through the doors of the stairwell. That's when Scarecrows goons busted in, shouting for everyone to get down, Harley made sure to stay as close to Maria as possible as the goons gathered everyone to a wall. They were told to not move, talk, or do anything to anger them, once everyone was up against the wall, that's when Scarecrow came in. As he entered the room some of the employees started to look very scared, when Maria looked over to Harley, she saw her mouth 'it's ok', afterwards the goons had them all tied up and on the floor sitting down. Scarecrow scanned them before speaking.

"One of you will be testing my newest and most potent fear toxin as of yet. We can do this one out of two ways." He said lifting up two of his needle syringed fingers. "1. You can be a hero, and let yourself be my newest test subject, aka the boring way or 2. I pick whoever I want, aka the slightly less boring way. Now, who wants to go first?"

•—–· Over to Batman ·–—•

The Batfam was running around the other side of Gotham, now without Tony, because someone ( ehem Thor, ehem) was making a giant mess at Avengers Tower, and was fighting Loki... again. It was when they decided to call Oracle that things took another turn.

"Oracle have you foun- " - Batman

"They're at W.E. and Scarecrows there, I can't get in contact with them, and I can't get into the cameras at the moment, I need you to get your butts over there now!" - Oracle

"Wait you were in contact with them?!" - Red Hood

"Not the time! Just get over there before someone gets hurt!" - Oracle

"We're on our way." - Batman

They all then kicked it into high gear and were running to W.E, and out of everyone, Damian seemed to be the most visibly panicked, if him running twice as fast as everyone was any indication. At the speed they were going, they would be there in 20mins or less... hopefully.

•—–· Back to Maria and Harley ·–—•

So while Scarecrow was giving his little speech, Maria whispered into a plant to let Ivy know their situation, she wasn't able to get an answer before she and Harley were pulled away from the crowd.

"And what do we have here? Harley Quinn and a child. How interesting, well then, which one of you would like to test my new fear toxin?" - Scarecrow

"Eh, do me, I bet I got a lot o' trauma and fears from my time wit' Mistuh J. dat yuh would just love tuh see." - Harley

"... As tempting as that sounds I think I'll test it on your little friend here, after all, I know better than to mess with one of the Sirens." - As Scarecrow said that, one of the goons dragged Maria over to him. She didn't panic, she was actually really calm, which worried Harley even more because, remember all that emotional trauma she saw Maria had? Yeah, not the best match for the fear toxin.

As Scarecrow grabbed Maria, she locked eyes with Harley, and gave a brief smile before she felt a sharp jabbing pain in the side of her neck. Her vision went hazy, and from Harleys' point of view, she went a little limp from it.

As Maria started to see again she could hear screams, car alarms going off, and explosion in the distance, when she looked up, she saw them, her friends, her team... her family, they were all there lying infront of her... none of them moving, all of them were lifeless, looking as though turned into a gray husk of what they once were, and beside them were all the Kwamis, and their respective Jewelery, broken and shattered. She felt the tears fall as she looked around. Paris, the once beautiful city of lights, was now a wasteland, everything had a gray tone to it, people, animals, everything that had life... was dead.

And then she heard laughing, a sick disturbing laugh that was all to familiar... Lila. When she turned and saw Vulpina, she felt sick just looking at her.

"You have failed Maria, everyone you knew and loved is gone, all because you weren't here." - Lila

All she felt in that moment... was pure anger, she began to struggle, but somthing was holding her. She kept hearing that stupid laugh, and kept struggling harder and harder.

"You were never good enough, you were meant to always be our everyday Ladybug, but you never were, you never cared for us, and that's why, they're all gone, because you weren't good enough." - Lila

The last four words kept playing over and over in her head, until something clicked, she wasn't in Paris, so how did she get there? The last place she was at... was with Harley, she was in the W.E. building, and had fear toxin injected into her. As she came to that realization, she could hear the laughing fade just a bit, she closed her eyes and focused on finding everyone's souls, when she did, she saw that Scarecrow was right infront of her, a goon next to Harley, and a goon behind her, the other goons had left and were on the first floor. She snapped back when she heard Lilas' voice again.

"You always were stubborn and never accepted the real truth, as class president aren't you supposed to just roll over and do as you're told." - Lila

Maria was done listening to her, and decided to kick Lila in the face (since someone didn't think to tie up her ankles.)

"Just go rott in hell already you lieing fox!" - Maria

Maria didn't get any answer, all she knew was that she hit whatever was really infront of her hard. Maria then heard Lilas' voice morph into a heavier, more distorted voice.

"That's a first, guess I'll have to increase the dosage." - Scarecrow

She then felt another jabbing pain in her neck, all she could do was scream from the pain, her head was spinning, and all she could hear was laughing, sickening laughter that came from both Lila, and now Hawkmoth. One thing Scarecrow didn't account for, was the deep hatred Maria held for both individuals he made her see. Because soon after he gave her more fear toxin she got her footing, pushing back into the goon behind her before using the goons' grib on her to do a half backflip into kicking the guys face in, quickly knocking the goon out, when she stood back up she only saw Hawkmoth, surrounded by her lifeless team and family, she only saw red, and charge right at him. She kept punching and roundhouse kicking him, giving one final charge, ramming into Hawkmoth before she felt weightless. She never heard the panicked scream Harley let out, she never heard the shouts that came from the Batfam just reaching the second floor, before she hit something... something rapped around her holding her from falling any further, causing her to start thrashing around thinking it was Hawkmoth, before seeing he was also grabbed by something. She struggled ignoring the slight pain that went through her harms and legs. She slowly calmed down as she felt her feet touch the ground again, she then saw another Hawkmoth that was now mixed with Lila hug her, she tried to break free, but realized that it wasn't Lila or Hawkmoth... It was calming, and her voice was gentle, it was Ivy. She only heard a few words, that's when she felt something blow on her face, and after a few seconds, she lost conscientiousness.

Harley came sprinting down and was by Ivys' side in less than a minute. Ivy could tell Harley was worried and joined her in hugging a now sleeping Maria.

"I'm sawhry Ives, It all just happened so fast, and she was so awesome at kickin' Cranes @ss, I din't get her out of dere quick enough." - Harley said as she looked Ivy in the eyes, with tears threatening to escape.

"It's alright Harley, none of this is your fault." - Ivy replied comfortingly to Harley

As the two hugged Maria Batman came over.

"We'll take it from here." - Batman

"Hell no. We ain't leavin' her side." - Harley

Batman just let out a sigh, after he dealt with Scarecrow and his goons, Batman, along with his sons, Ivy and Harley, all headed back to the Bat-cave where the other girls and Alfred were waiting.

If anyone noticed Robin looking over to Maria with a concerned look, they just ignored it, and continued their way back home.

•—–·†·–—•

Chapter 6 complete! Hope you'll liked it, and are havin' a fantabulous day, stay safe and rock all those positive vibes. !BUG-OUT! 🐞💮🐞

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[agustdakasuga]

A Place Called Home | Chapter 7

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU?, Soulmate AU, romance, fluff, humour

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: vet!reader, Arcticfox!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Goldenretriever!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Calicocat!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Rabbit!Jungkook

Summary: Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

Everything seems to be going well. Taehyung and Namjoon are settling into the family nicely. After a night of busting an illegal fighting ring, a rare hybrid shows up at your hospital and you’re determined to try and heal him of his painful past. 

*WARNING: This chapter may discuss some triggering topics such as PTSD, abuse and other psychological issues. Please read at your own discretion! :)

“I’ll drop you off, kitten.” Yoongi said as he grabbed the keys. You nodded and quickly ran upstairs to take your bag. As you walked past Taehyung’s room, you knocked on the door. 

“Tae! Hurry up or we’ll be late.” You shouted and took your bag, as well as your coat, slinging it over your shoulder. Taehyung ran out of his room as well. 

“Goodbye, boys. I’ll see you tonight.” You kissed Jin and Namjoon on the heads before rushing out the door. 

After the adoption and settling down permanently, Taehyung and Namjoon were finally able to get jobs so they wouldn’t be bored at home. Namjoon worked at the plant nursery with Jin since he attended to the garden in your backyard. Taehyung worked at a library with a really nice old lady that adored your entire family. She took really good care of Taehyung. 

“Thanks, Yoongs. Have a nice day, boys.” You said and got out of the car. You made it in time, scanning your ID and clocking in for your morning shift. 

“Morning doctor.” The nurses greeted. 

“Morning.” You smiled, standing by the nurses’ station, running through all the patient charts for your morning rounds. Someone cleared their throat and you turned to see your hospital director. Immediately, you and the nurses bowed to greet her. 

“May I speak to you in my office?” She asked. 

“Of course. I’ll be back for the rounds.” You told the nurse and followed the director. You headed up to her office together. 

“How’s Namjoon?” She asked with a smile as she opened the door for you to enter. You bowed and entered the big office, hearing her close the door behind you. 

“He’s doing well. He started working with Jin, my arctic fox hybrid, at the plant nursery and he’s enjoying himself. Director, is something wrong? You seem worried about something.” You bit your lip. She gestured for you to sit down as she took her own seat in her chair. You uneasily sat down opposite her, the desk separating the both of you. 

“The hybrids your team brought in last night have all been checked and tagged.” She informed. 

Last night, you and your team managed to bust a big illegal fighting ring. You rescued the hybrids and brought them to your hospital to get treated. It was a very successful bust and the whole gang was now in prison. 

You didn’t even know everyone in your team, what they looked like or their real names since everyone had a NATO alphabet phonetic as their code name. Your code name was ‘Echo’. The only thing you knew about them was that they were all from different walks of life, with different jobs.

“Thank you, director.” You bowed your head.

“But out of all the predator hybrids you brought you, there was one domestic one. A calico cat. Now, you know calico cats are rare but never used for fighting. His injuries are not from fights but just abuse. The thing is, he is very mentally unstable.” She sighed. 

“I see. There were a lot of hybrids so I don’t really remember.” You frowned. What was a calico cat doing at a fighting ring?

“He could be the leader’s own pet or something?” You guessed. The director shrugged, taking out his file and handing it to you. You opened it and browsed through. 

“There’s so little information on him. And he’s so underweight!” You said in disbelief. The director nodded her head. 

“I’m transferring him under your care. That’s all for now. You may go.” She said and you stood up, tucking the file under your arm as you bowed. You exited her office and began your morning rounds with your current patients first. The nurses helped you with updating all the files. You wanted to go see the calico cat but you were scheduled for two surgeries today. 

“Good work today!” Your surgical team bowed to you and you waved, walking down the halls. With the file in your hand, you went to the floor with all the individual suites.

“W-Who are you?” He jumped the moment you entered. His eyes showed so much fear and apprehension. 

“Hello. I’m doctor (y/l/n).” You kept your distance as you smiled at him. 

“A doctor? A-Are you going to hurt me?” He whimpered. 

“No no, sweetie. I would never. I’m here to help you. Can I come in?” You asked and he thought about it before nodding slowly. Keeping your soft smile, you stepped a little closer to him. 

“What’s your name, sweetie?” 

“J-Jimin.” He replied, nervously. You knew he was still really scared that you might do something to him so you didn’t get too close. If you got hurt again, you wouldn’t mind or blame anyone but you knew that Yoongi would definitely not let it go. 

“Hi, Jimin. That’s such a nice name.” You complimented. 

“I have to go home. The master will get mad if I’m not there to greet him when he comes home.” He cried, 

“It’s okay, Jimin. No one will hurt you anymore, hmm? You’re safe here.” You hummed softly. 

“No, you’re lying! They will always find me and then I’m going to get punished for running away!” Jimin began to shake as a full blown anxiety attack hit him. Just to be safe, you grabbed a sedative syringe from the nurse cart, you moved closer and Jimin jumped, moving back fearfully. He shook his head as tears continuously fell down his cheeks. 

“Calm down, Jimin. Breathe. Follow my breathing.” You guided him, not wanting to sedate him just yet. He whimpered. 

“Good job. You’re doing great.” You smiled as you encouraged him. He watched you, felt you and heard you, trying to even out his breathing to match your pace. 

“Do you want some food or do you want to sleep?” You asked him. 

“Please don’t leave me alone.” He whimpered. 

“I’ll be right here.” You held your hand out. Looking at it, he moved a little closer to make sure you weren’t armed before grasping it urgently, as if you were his saving grace. With your other hand, you reached up to pet his head, watching as he flinched slightly, his ears moving. 

“There we go.” You cooed. Looking up, you noticed one of his ears was clipped, making one less pointy than the other. 

“Are you hungry?” You asked. Just then, Jimin’s stomach rumbled. He allowed you leave for a few minutes so you could grab him a tray of food. You watched him stare at it, almost drooling. 

“Is this really for me?” He asked softly. 

“Of course. It’s all yours.” You nodded. Jimin looked at you before picking up the spoon and wolfing down the food quickly. You stroked his back to slow him down as he was choking on the food at one point from not chewing. Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You knew it was your boys, asking when you would come home.  

‘I’ll be home late. Don’t worry. - (y/n)’

You sent a quick reply, not knowing that Yoongi was already on his way to find you. He had asked one of your colleagues where you were. 

“Oh, I think I saw her on the 3rd floor?” He said. Yoongi nodded and bowed, going up. He peeked into each room, following your faint scent. When he stopped in front of the ward, he knocked and entered. 

“Yoongi? What are you doing here?” You stood up, confused. At the intrusion of a stranger, Jimin recoiled in defence and hissed, clawing and managing to get the back of your hand. 

“(y/n)!” Seeing you hurt, Yoongi quickly grabbed at you, pulling you behind him protectively. You winced in slight pain as you watched the two hybrids hiss and growl at each other, showing their canines warningly. They could smell the scent of your blood in the air. 

“Yoongi, I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” You held his arm to calm him down. 

“He. Hurt. You.” He growled. 

“Calm down, Yoongi. Please.” You begged, pulling him out of there before he could actually jump on Jimin and attack him. 

“(y/n), please don’t go.” You heard Jimin’s cries as you and Yoongi left the ward. Yoongi held your injured hand in his, pulling you to the nurse’s station to ask for a first aid kit. The nurses recognised him and handed it to him. Yoongi sat you down in the lounge and began patching up your scratches hand. 

“Oww, gentle please.” You whimpered when he dabbed the antiseptic on the scratches. 

“Yoongi... please don’t be mad.” You said softly. He refused to look up at you, throwing the bloody cotton into a pile and bandaging your hand. When he secured it, he kissed it. 

“It’s not his fault.” You repeated. Yoongi grabbed you and pulled you into his lap.

“He still hurt you.” He said softly. 

“Hey, it’s just a few scratches, part of the drop. They’ll be gone in a few days. Don’t worry.” You chuckled. You began to briefly tell him about the situation with Jimin and how he just was wary around strangers because he was just rescued. Yoongi listened attentively, knowing and feeling just how worried you were about Jimin.

“For now, I think it’s best you come back tomorrow. It’s not safe for you and him.” Yoongi told you. 

“But he’s alone and scared. I’m afraid he runs away. He thinks his owner is going to find him and hurt him.” You sighed. 

“You can’t do everything on your own, kitten. I’m sorry but I’m not risking you getting hurt again. We’re going home now.” Yoongi didn’t let you protest before going to your office to grab your bag and leaving. 

“Nurse, Jimin in suite 12. Be careful, alright? He’s very wary of strangers. Let me know if you need anything tonight.” You told the nurse on night shift. She nodded and bowed her head before bidding you and Yoongi goodbye. You folded your arms and huffed. 

“Stop pouting, kitten. You know your tantrums only work on Jin hyung.” Yoongi chuckled as he drove. 

When you arrived home, the hybrids were all alerted to the scent of your blood before you could even enter the house. Jin was the first to rush to you. 

“Why are you bleeding?” He fussed. 

“A small incident at work. Don’t worry.” You rubbed his ears reassuringly. Taehyung was there to greet you with the usual hugs. Then you gave Namjoon a small greeting hug as well. After a quick meal and shower, you went to bed. 

BEEP BEEP

You were woken up by your beeper on your nightstand. Yawning, you checked it and your eyes widened. There was a Code Yellow at the hospital, meaning that a patient is missing. Immediately, you wondered if the person that ran away was-

“Jagi, Namjoon smelled an intruder on the property. Stay here while we scout, alright?” You heard Jin’s voice on the other side of the door. 

“Okay. Please be safe.” You replied. As you put your beeper down, your phone lit up, confirming your suspicions. The attending doctor for the night informed you that your patient, Park Jimin, was missing. 

“Stay away!” You heard Yoongi growl and snuck out of your room. 

“Please, I’m just looking for doctor (y/l/n).” A familiar voice made your head shoot up. You hurried down the stairs and saw the familiar set of ears with one clipped at the end. You stood between them, making your 4 call out your name in worry for your safety. 

“It’s okay, guys. You’re scaring him.” You told them. 

“Doctor (y/l/n).” Jimin called out. 

“Hey, Jiminie.” You smiled softly, slowly moving towards him. The 4 hybrids behind you growled lowly and you held a hand up to stop them. 

“It’s okay. They won’t hurt you, alright? I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You assured. Jimin sniffled and broke down into more cries and whimpers, falling to the ground. Bending down in front of him, Jimin jumped into your arms, his orange, white and black tail securing itself around your waist. You comforted him, wiping his tears. 

“Why did you run away, Jimin ah?” You asked softly. 

“It’s scary and dark there. I don’t want to be alone.” He whispers. You nodded your head, understanding. Even if Jimin didn’t have a full psychiatric evaluation, you knew enough to say that he was clearly psychologically distraught. 

“(y/n), there’s no way he’s staying here or at least, near you tonight.” Yoongi growled. 

“Let her go before I call hybrid control.” Namjoon threatened. You closed your eyes, not knowing what to do. You were afraid that someone was going to get hurt. Suddenly, you were yanked back and fell on the ground as 4 of your hybrids stood in front of you, hissing and growling at Jimin.

“Doctor (y/l/n).” Jimin whimpered as he backed away fearfully. 

“Jin, you have to help him. He’s traumatised.” You begged the arctic fox, knowing he would empathise the most. 

“Jimin, we’re not going to hurt you but you can’t just break in and expect us to be okay with it. You even hurt (y/n) at the hospital. We’re her hybrids, it’s our job to protect her.” Jin spoke. 

As you watched the exchange, you also alerted the medical staff at the hospital that Jimin had actually been able to make his way to your house. 

“Everyone, let’s calm down and talk. We’re all scaring and stressing (y/n) by acting like this.” Jin commanded, showing his alpha side as the oldest. Taehyung, Yoongi and Namjoon immediately stopped, standing straight. Jimin still quivered in fear. You were so thankful that Jin had such authority over the hybrids and they, in turn, had such tremendous respect for him.

“Let’s go sit.” He nodded to the living room area. 

“Tae, baby, can you get me two painkillers and a glass of water?” You held his hand with a smile. He nodded and ran off to the kitchen. Jimin watched the exchange, jealousy burning within him. 

“Here.” Taehyung appeared in front of you. You popped the pills and gulped down the water, petting Taehyung’s head gratefully. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I don’t want to go back to my owner and Doctor (y/l/n) said she will protect me.” Jimin cried. The 4 empathised with him. They, too, never wanted to return to their previous owners. You just listened to the 4 of the interact. 

“Where are you from?” Namjoon asked. Yoongi moved to your other side, his tail around you securely, still glaring at Jimin.

“I don’t know. But there was a bird cage with a feather tattoo on all of them.” Jimin said. You turned to Yoongi, who shook his head, meaning he didn’t know which ring Jimin was from. 

“We would like to believe they’re all captured and in prison.” You sighed but of course, these illegal syndicates would always find a way to continue operating with other members that weren’t captured. 

“But you’re a domestic breed. Calico cats are rare. No one would use them for fighting.” Taehyung stated. 

“I never fought. I was just made to follow and sit next to my master.” He whispered. The thought made his entire being seize up as he remembered how horrible it was to the point that he wished he would be the one in the ring fighting to the death instead. Yoongi was in disbelief. He should have known that this kid was the ring master’s personal pet. 

“There’s a spare room you can use for the night but you’re not getting near (y/n). And you’re going back to the hospital tomorrow.” Yoongi stood up and dragged you with him. 

“(y/n)...” Jimin called softly. 

“He won’t hurt me anymore, Yoongs.” You placed your hand over his. 

“I’m sorry, kitten. I can’t risk it, not when your safety is concerned. I know it’s not his fault but he was the ring master’s pet. Namjoon and I know and have seen what those disgusting creatures do to their pets. Jimin is as good as a ticking time bomb.” Yoongi walked to the window. 

“How bad?” You gulped. 

“Well, he's 10 times worse than the old Jin hyung.” Yoongi rubbed his forehead. You were at a lost. 

“Then what should I do? As his doctor, I have to do what’s best for him.” You buried your face into your hands. There was a knock on your door and your 3 other hybrids appeared. You nodded your head for them to come in. 

“You do what you think is best. But all we ask is for you to think about your safety too. We’ll stand by whatever you decide.” Namjoon spoke, having heard your conversation. 

“Thank you.” You sighed. 

“He’s staying in one of the guest rooms. The windows are locked so he can’t leave.” Jin informed. As you settled on your bed, Taehyung curled up beside you, laying his head in your lap. Namjoon and Yoongi began to share with me more about what they knew Jimin possibly went through. There were so many forms of abuse just to mentally break the hybrid. 

“How could they do that to him?” You shook your head. 

“Not all humans are like you, (y/n). You’re one of the only ones that see us as equal.” Taehyung pouted. 

“It’s not his fault that he is like this. He was a victim.” You lowered your head, feeling your heart ache for him. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what Jimin went through. 

“We never said it was his fault. We’re all victims, none of us wanted the treatment we got. But I’m saying this because I know what they go through, he needs real help (y/n). Not just someone to coddle him like you do. He needs mental intervention and not from you.” Yoongi crossed his arms. 

“If I can help him?” 

“You shouldn’t. He is already formed such a strong connection with you, he’s not going to want to get better because he knows he can depend on you. If he suddenly sees you as a new master, I don’t want you both getting hurt.” Namjoon said. 

“There’s really nothing I can do for him?” You said sadly. No doctor liked hearing that there was nothing they could do for their patient. 

“I’m sorry, snowflake. I know it’s disappointing.” Jin patted your shoulder and you hugged him. 

“I’ll call Dr Lee in the morning.” 

“Maybe when he gets a little better, you can continue to care for him.” Yoongi comforted. The hybrids could all smell your tears that spilled onto Jin’s shirt as he held you. Taehyung whined, not liking the thought of you crying at all. He stood up and hugged you from the back. Namjoon and Yoongi joined the hug as well. The 5 of you stood there in your room, hugging each other. 

That night, Taehyung slept next to you while Yoongi sat outside your door to guard you. You had refused but he insisted, worried Jimin might break in and Taehyung can’t fight him off. 

Namjoon and Jin also slept lightly since their rooms were the nearest to Jimin. While the hybrids’ priority was your safety, they also wanted to make sure that Jimin was safe. 

“Jimin is the same age as you.” You said as you ran your hand through Taehyung’s hair, a soft smile on your face. 

“Really? He looked so small...” Taehyung frowned. 

“Yeah, he is underweight and malnourished so he’s on the smaller side. He’s actually a few months older than you, Tae.” You gave a light chuckle. Taehyung wrapped his tail around your waist, snuggling closer to you. He placed his head on your chest, hearing your heart beat. 

[mcmoth]

What's up bois, me and the lads (@astro-blade, @morning-glory215, @strawberiitea) cried in discord again, so here's some soft clingy duo Snowchester headcanons for you all :)

Tubbo eventually convinces Tommy to join him in Snowchester. Tommy, in my head, grew up a street kid which is why he keeps sleeping in tents n holes and dirt huts, and it takes him a long time to even get used to living in a nice clean house.

At first he keeps complaining about it, calling it cramped, too warm, pretentious, unnecessary, etc., until he gives in and just digs a dirt basement underneath and burrows there during night time.

Tubbo is exasperated but understanding. He gets why Tommy acts that way. So he just keeps inviting Tommy upstairs, keeps telling him that they built it themselves and that living in the actual house is just practically better. When that doesn't work, he also sometimes says he's having trouble sleeping to get Tommy to sleep with him in the house. And eventually, he's reassuring him that they deserve a nice, stable home, one that's warm and cosy and clean. And eventually Tommy starts getting more cocomfortable resting within the wooden walls.

On a less angsty note, Tommy misses his pets. Tubbo does, too. They also, coincidentally, need wool for warmer clothes in the snow. So, they build a pen, and get some sheep.

Tommy spends a lot of time with the sheep, feeding them, petting them, shearing them. Some nights, he goes to their pen and sleeps with them. Some nights Tubbo joins him.

Tubbo learns to spin yarn out of the wool. Tubbo had also been spending time with Eret, and Eret knows some craft skills. So, with his help, and just by browsing through whatever books he can find, Tubbo learns to cross stitch and knit and crochet.

Tommy, tho, knows how to stitch, and is learning to weave fabric. They get a loom. He creates blankets and jackets and carpets and other nice things for the two.

Tubbo starts knitting sweaters, and shawls, and other stuff to help combat the cold. He also crochets a blanket that looks like the L'manburg flag for their couch.

They have a fireplace, and there's plenty of pleasant late evenings where the two of them are just working on some project by the flame, chatting or silent, often leaning on each other. One common scenario is Tommy jumping on the couch next to Tubbo, whining and complaining, teasing him about the work, but then he ends up just tiring himself out and falling asleep on the other. Tubbo, similarly, often comes to annoy Tommy when he's been working on something for too long, but no real animosity is ever present.

Tubbo cross stitches those home decor signs, with pretty flowers and rude text, and hangs them around the house, like these:

Tommy allegedly hates them by the amount of mockery they recieve, which results in Tubbo putting a very passive aggressive decor in his bedroom space, to which Tommy responds by giving him a shirt with a middle finger on it. Tubbo finds that hilarious tho, turns it around, and starts wearing it and showing it off when he can, jokingly giving everyone the f you. Tommy ends up keeping the cross stitch.

They eventually get other pets, like some cats and a fox. Sometimes, when things start resurfacing and get overwhelming, they go hug the sheep or pet the cats or play with the fox to calm down. Most of the kitties tend to wander about, but one of the cats turn out to be very attentive, and often notices when one of them is stressed out, and goes to cuddle in their lap, purring all the while. The animals help out a ton.

They have frozen lakes by them, so they take on the opportunity to go ice skating sometimes. Tubbo is good at it, Tommy is absolutely not. Regardless, it's always a chaotic and fun time.

When Tommy's bored, he goes to work on his big snow base, which is really just a snow hut that he keeps making by piling snow and digging out holes to make a shabby burrow. It ends up ugly but also kinda impressive just for how big it is, and the fact that it also apparently leads to way too many confusing underground tunnels.

Other people come by sometimes. Things settle eventually as everyone slowly heals, and Ranboo, Eret, Quackity and Ghostbur are the four who visit the most.

Ranboo keeps getting teased endlessly, as usual, but after the casual bullying is done and he turns to leave, it's not uncommon for either of the two to dump a handmade gift in his arms. Ranboo also loves finding the cats and hanging around them. Tubbo and Tommy are salty that they seem to like Ranboo more than either of them.

Tubbo was the one to invite Eret to their home, and at first Tommy is snappish, unable to let his guard down, resulting in some arguments, and more nights spent in his basement or tunnels. But eventually, the memories don't come up as often, and Eret keeps showing kindness, until the associations Tommy gets from her company turn positive rather than negative, and her presence is no longer a taint on their safe space, but rather a part of it. Eret gets into the big brother gang.

The situation calms on the whole of the smp, and with time, more and more people visit their humble abode. Some leave gifts, some leave with gifts, some come to dye their sheep, some come to have a disastrous snow fight, some actual fights ensue, but for the most part, the space they've created remains positive and ever comforting. And with the rest of the smp becoming calmer as well, the ever present fear starts leaving whenever they leave their safe space, and Snowchester becomes not an escape, but a home. Things slowly get better. Relationships get repaired. And tho chaos remains a constant, they are able to trust that they have places and people to fall back upon in those times. Slowly, the wars are replaced with peace.

[chaseatinydream]

sly san who sacrifices (i) || c.s (atz)

➳ pairing: reader x choi san (ateez)

➳ word count: 2396

➳ genre: badboy au; fluff; angst

➳ synopsis: to the school, he may be a bad boy, the worst of the worst, but to you, he’s choi san, father of three cats, your best friend and ultimately, the boy you love.

>>>

San has often been called ‘catlike’.

It’s no surprise, given his near obsession with picking up strays from roadsides and giving them a home in his family’s third mansion, where he lives, and his behaviour does remind you of a cat’s. There’s something distinctively feline about him, from those uncannily sharp eyes to his whimsical, distinctly teasing personality. Some find it off putting, citing him as arrogant and aloof, but you know him better than that.

He’s your best friend, after all.

Honestly, you’re not very sure how the two of you became friends. It’d started this way on the first day of term with him seated at your side. Within the first three minutes you had known each other, he’d ripped off his tie, called it ugly and flung it across the room, all while ranting to you that the colour scheme was an abomination and how the school should have at least hired a competent designer to do their uniform.

You had merely stared at him in wide eyed shock and nodded along with everything he’d said.

And that… was how it’d just happened.

You like to think that you understand him, but it seems a humanly impossible task. Choi San toes the line between sweet as cotton candy and cold as ice like a professional tightrope walker, a double faced enigma that you can never predict. One second, he’s cradling a baby bird in his hands, cooing about how cute it is to you, and the next moment, he’s in a fist fight with another student, your hands pulling on his sleeve as you desperately beg him to stop with tears in your eyes.

Sometimes, you don’t know why San is your friend. All the rest of his gang – ATEEZ, as they call themselves – are what one would label as bad boys, terrible influences, a stain on your school’s otherwise pristine reputation. The two of you are polar opposites, you’re everything he’s not and he’s everything you would have steered clear of.

But here you are, in this strange, peculiar situation, with Choi San still seated at your side two years after your first meeting, his head resting against your shoulder as he dozes off in class.

You jab his side with a pen.

“Psst, San.”

Your best friend cracks open one eye lazily, feet propped up on the table. He’s wearing slippers today, you groan mentally, together with school issue pants and one of his self-designed shirts. Not the typical bad boy image he usually goes for, but then again you know that San had been out clubbing in town till the wee hours of morning, so it explains his state of casual dress. Still, if he was just going to sleep the whole lesson away, he should have just stayed at home!

“Wassgoinon?” San mumbles sleepily into your shoulder and you puff out your cheeks in exasperation, ready to lecture him on how he should be paying attention to the teacher instead of sleeping his life away like an actual cat.

But then one look at how peaceful and serene he looks with his eyes closed has something melting inside and you momentarily falter, chewing on your bottom lip as you struggle to chide him.

Stupid pretty face. Stupid jawline. Stupid dimples.

“If you were just going to sleep you should have just stayed home, you know?” You mutter, running your fingers through the red streaks in his hair that he just refuses to get rid of. He mumbles absentmindedly under his breath, curling into your side like a large cat and your breath hitches in your throat.

You turn to study him a little more intently. He looks tired, with purplish-black bags under his eyes that remind you of bruises, his flawless skin a little more sallow than usual. Frowning, you press a hand to his forehead… and yelp when you realise how feverish he is.

“San, you’re sick!” You whisper worriedly to him as you sit up a little straighter, hand touching his neck, where his leather choker lies. Yup, he’s burning up, alright. Concern shoots through you and you immediately speak your mind. “You should go home.”

But he merely bats your hand away, grumbling incoherently under his breath as he shifts into a more comfortable position against you. “But I wanna stay in school…”

Your eyes widen in horror at the words that have just left his mouth. The fever must have fried his brain, turned it into a smoking pile of mush, because San never wants to stay in school. Truly on the verge of panicking now, you turn towards the teacher at the front of the classroom and raise a hand desperately, trying to grab her attention.

When she does turn to look at you, you gesture at the pouting boy next to you.

“Professor, can San go home first? He’s sick.”

Your best friend doesn’t have the best reputation with the professors, in fact, most of them are scared stiff by him. San is a wild card, you’re never sure what hand he might play when dealing with him, so you can’t really blame the teachers for being terrified of him, but you can’t leave him be like this in class.

The class abruptly falls silent, tension settling over the room like a thick, unbearable smog.

The teacher glances over at the pair of you, looking nervous when her eyes flit over San. “Well, of course Mr Choi can leave-”

“I don’t want to go.” San growls from next to you, starting to rise from his seat with darkening eyes. The teacher actually shrinks back in fear, colour draining from her face at the potential ticking time bomb on her hands. Instead, you smack your best friend over the head, the charms on your bracelet jingling as you scold him for his bratty behavior.

“San, you’re sick! You need to go home and rest!” You chide, but San merely gives you the best puppy dog eyes he can, a complete opposite of the terrifying glare he’d been projecting earlier.

“I’ll go home if you come with me.” He whines like a petulant puppy, tugging at your sleeve and you groan in exasperation, jerking your head in the teacher’s direction.

“San-ah, lessons are still ongoing! You know I can’t just leave class like that-”

“You can leave too! Please!” The teacher near begs and you scowl at San, who quickly paints the gaze of an innocent angel over the smug, victorious grin on his face. Scowling, you shove your books into your bag before you reach over and grab him hard by the ear, yanking him out of the classroom as he yelps in pain behind you.

“Ow… ow ow ow!” San squawks as you haul him out of the building to the main gate, whipping out your phone with your other hand and speed dialing San’s chauffeur. Honestly, you love San, but sometimes he’s just... ugh.

Ring, ring, ring.

“Good morning, Young Miss. What has Master San done this time?” The dry, monotonous voice of San’s chauffeur and personal assistant comes over the phone and you snort at his opening gambit, both of you all too used to San’s shenanigans.

San flails and struggles against your vice grip on his ear and for a moment you’re afraid that you might actually tear the piercing out of his flesh, so you let him go and he stumbles to the ground dramatically, groaning as he cradles the abused appendage with both hands.

“Surprisingly, nothing. He’s just sick today.” You tell Claude honestly and you can practically hear the stoic man’s eyebrows rise from over the phone.

“He has not? Please, wait for a moment while I check Young Master’s room for him. The one at your side now cannot be the real Master San-”

“You know I can hear the two of you, right?” The topic of your conversation slings an arm over your shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against the juncture of your shoulder and raise a hand to smack him in the face, but he dodges to the side with ease. “And Claude! I’m supposed to be your master, you know? Could you stop talking about me like a mutt that keeps pissing on the carpet?”

The man draws in a deep breath to counter. “Well, Young Master, perhaps I would have reason to if you behaved more like a young master instead of a dog-”

You shove San away from you and press the phone to your ear once more. “Anyway, Claude, could you please pick up San from school? He’s at the main gate now.”

There’s the purr of the engine over the call, sleek and velvety as you hear the car pull out of the driveway. “Anything for you, young miss. Please keep Master San under containment until I reach the venue.”

San grabs the phone from you in fury and shrieks into the receiver, voice reminiscent of a dying cat. “Stop talking about me like that! And I’m your master, not her, you know-”

The call hangs up abruptly.

You dissolve into fits of laughter at the look of stunned shock on San’s face and pluck the phone from his hands, while he merely continues staring blankly into the space where the mobile device once was. Bopping him once on the nose to snap him out of his daze, you grin smugly at him and wave the phone in your palm. “I told you that Claude likes me more than he likes you. Honestly, sometimes we have tea chats over the nonsense you get up to.”

Your best friend sputters incoherently.

“Preposterous! Unbelievable! Unacceptable!” San’s face is red with disbelief, almost the same hue of crimson as the coat he wears. Giggles nearly spill forth from you at the comical look on his features as you fight to keep your laughter in your chest, admiring the way his flush makes his cheeks like blossoming roses. “I’m going to fire that traitorous little bastar-”

He breaks off into a coughing fit.

“San!” You yelp in horror, dropping all pretense and rushing to his side to support him. Your arms wind around his shoulders and pull him close to you as he bends over still coughing, waving you off with a raspy ‘I’m fine, I’m fine– ’.

“You shouldn’t lie, Young Master.”

Whirling around in surprise, you see Claude standing there, sleek black limousine behind him, posture perfect like a statue, not a thread on his impeccable suit out of place. San had designed it for him with his very own hands, from the sketching of the outfit to the selection of the material, explaining to you every bit about how all these would come together eventually to form a suit perfect for Claude’s thirty seventh birthday gift.

You had strongly vetoed San’s idea of making the suit canary yellow, but that had been one of the experiences that had really bonded the two of you together. You remember staying over at his house till the wee hours of the morning, curled up in his bed with Darong as you watched him work the sewing machine through sleepy, half lidded eyes. When you did fall asleep, you would often wake up a few moments later to see San on the floor of his room, head tilted against the bed in a manner that must surely not have been comfortable, his long fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist and Puchi in his lap as he snoozed away before you.

Innocent and vulnerable.

Your heart softens at the memory.

“What? How did you get here so fast? I swear you’re like… Usain Bolt in disguise or something.” San grumbles as he tosses his backpack with the force he can muster at the chauffeur, the older man catching it easily with the same, unruffled, serene smile on his face.

“Usain Bolt is a respectable Olympic Sprinter, I merely have a very expensive car provided to me by your father. Also, I did tell you this morning that you were sick and needed to stay at home today, but you refused to listen to me and walked all the way here on your own.” Claude answers as he holds open the door to the backseat. San’s face turns even redder at being exposed and your eyes widen in shock.

“San, you walked all the way here this morning? It was pouring buckets!” You exclaim angrily, now thoroughly furious and also confused by why San was so determined to come to school today. There was nothing especially exciting or interesting going on in school, so San’s behavior was completely counter intuitive. “You’re sick and you don’t carry an umbrella! So that’s why you were so wet this morning! Stay at home next time, you dummy!”

Instead of defending himself, something in San’s eyes soften at your little outburst, the dimples in his cheeks appearing as he gazes at you. “Cute.” He hums under his breath and you recoil a little in confusion, a frown pulling at your lips. San has been doing strange stuff like this recently, dancing hot and cold around you, saying strange things. You chalk this one up to his fever – it must have really fried his brain – and turn your head away to hide your flush.

“I’m just worried, okay?” You mumble, a little embarrassed by his words but you push them out of your mind, forcibly shoving San into the backseat of his car. He nearly trips, stumbles a little, and falls into the leather seat with a yelp. “There! Now, I’m heading back to class–”

His fingers close around your wrist and tug you in after him.

“Choi San!” You shriek in indignation but San merely chuckles tiredly, sagging against your side with his head resting on your shoulder, eyes already sliding shut. You’re about to push him off, but you falter when he sighs gently, his warm breath fanning over your collarbone.

You nearly shiver at the feeling, but keep a hold of yourself.

As Claude closes the door after you and slides into driver’s seat to begin the drive back home, he glances at the interior driver’s mirror to see the peaceful expression on his young master’s face.

He smiles knowingly to himself.

[nimmy22]

A Mistake: Chapter 12

~ The following day, Saturday ~

"Do something, Wesker! These fucking imbeciles at the papers are starting to question my competence as chief all because of a pathetic group of boys you can't seem to dispose of." Irons seethed, slamming his cup of whisky on the desk, knocking his nameplate to the ground.  

Wesker gave nothing away of his emotions, save for a tick in his brow. His hands craved to wrap around Irons’ neck, giving it a swift snap. It's how he felt most of his days at the station. Irons was replaceable. The man didn't realize just how worthless he was to Umbrella. His replacement could arrive this very afternoon.

"We are working on finding the gang's nest. The big players keep using young boys for the jobs but tell them nothing about insider information. There are too many eyes watching us right now. We cannot use any special means to dispose of the group in order avoid questions."

"Just Do your fucking job right. I can't stand the news conferences anymore. the journalist's questions make me look laughable." Irons clutched his glass, throwing it hard against the wall. Tapping a finger on the armrest, Wesker didn't bat an eye at the behavior of the chief of police. One couldn't expect much from such a lowly creature.

"You seem to forget why Umbrella put me as captain of STARS. It isn't to keep up your public appearance but to protect theirs. I'm not the one who isn't doing his job. Deal with the journalists while I handle the little boy scouts." pushing back his chair, Wesker made sure to leave deep grooves on the freshly varnished floors. The scraping sound was like music to his soul. He didn't miss the deathly glare on his way to the door like hot iron rods.

Returning to the STARS office, Wesker ignored the gossiping of Chris and Jill about the newest trouble between their captain and Irons. Shutting the door to his office, he took a seat behind his desk. Through the office blinds, he eyed each present member of STARS. of course, no one was getting any work done, lazing around the office, making meaningless bets.

This simply will not do.

It was time they did some undercover work, gathering information about Raccoon city's newest crime family. These boy scouts wouldn't last long around here, especially since they fell on the radar of the real monsters in the shadows of Raccoon.

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

She sat alone on the staircase, elbows resting on her knees, wondering how the hell she got here.  The house was familiar to her. How many times has she looked after Sherry here? Still, it felt strange. It was his space, and she was invading it.

This was now supposed to be her home. The place gave no hints as to who lived here, lacking any personal touch. It was likely the work of an anterior designer following the most fashionable trends. The home of a bachelor.

Speaking of Wesker, he left after dumping her here last night and vaguely pointing her towards the guest room with a 'help yourself' to any food. As always, he gave her the bare minimum of info, not that she asked what he was up to. She didn't care whether he spent the night hiding bodies or doing legitimate police work. She was too terrified to sleep under the same roof, only a few walls apart. Does the man ever sleep? Shower? Eat?

She won't lie. She was glad Wesker left. But even with him gone, she couldn't stop thinking about what happened. More so the kiss than almost becoming a guinea pig. It was a lot to process, and she couldn't even begin.

For the nth time, she forcibly pulled her fingers away from her lips, scolding herself for replaying the memory again. This man was absolute bad news. She needed to get out of the house, and an incoming call from Claire had her scrambling to answer as quickly as possible. Her friend presented an idea, and Cara was all too grateful to join in.  

Pulling up Wesker's name in the contacts, Cara's fingers hovered over the letters, unsure of what and how much to tell him.  Where did they stand? Did he really mean everything, or was it a trick?  Was she free to leave? Did he give up completely on the idea of killing her?

"Going out with Claire. I will be back late." she texted, fully knowing a lot of info was missing. But it's not like he ever gave her a ton.

"Stay out of trouble.' came a replay moments later.

The words were unsaid, but Cara definitely heard them.  'I don't have time to drop everything and run over to the rescue each and every time you get in trouble,'

'I asked for help only once. The other time's nobody asked you to come.' Cara grumbled but deleted what she wrote. she could've gotten herself out of those situations...with a little bit of thinking. Actually, a lot of thinking.

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

Cara had to walk several blocks away from Wesker's house to prevent suspicion. If by any chance, Claire knew the address of her brother's captain, it would be a hole she did not want to leap into.

Standing in front of an old bookstore, she waited for her friend. The building was slightly rundown, its walls covered in graffiti, but the owners were a kind elderly couple. They pushed discounts her way, and she was guilted to buy something. She ended up buying a useless cat plushie toy after seeing that most books were non-fiction or raunchy romance novels. She would rather die than have Wesker coming across an erotic novel lying around his house.

She stared at the plushie as she leaned against the wall outside the shop. Cara considered giving it to Sherry the next time they met. This would be the first present she ever gave the young girl, and she could almost imagine the excitement on Sherry's face. It made her smile.

A helicopter passed overhead, sleek black and adorned with the Umbrella white and red symbol. Cara watched the chopper get smaller and smaller until it disappeared, heading in the direction of the Arkley mountains. she wondered about their business up there was. Looking around, no one else seemed to notice nor care. Maybe it was best to keep all knowledge to herself.

Seeing a familiar redhead and a motorcycle, Cara waved as Claire pulled up, handing her a helmet.

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

The barn smelled of sweat, dust, and old wood. The unmistakable smell of alcohol was thick in the air as it was passed around freely in cheap red plastic cups. She recognized kids from school, but many more were older, likely from Raccoon university. A light disco machine was nailed to the wall, casting the barn in a series of flashing lights. Tall Straw piles of hay distributed across the barn ensured there was no shortage of dark corners for people to disappear to.  For a moment, Cara considered hiding in the straw and then going home when the party was over. But seeing the sparkle in Claire's eyes about hanging out with her best friend threw the idea out the window. With a sigh, she followed her friend.

Over the course of the night, the girls danced and drank, carefree. A blond-haired boy was staring at her, Cara noticed. He attempted to walk up to her but turned around before getting within ten feet. He tried multiple times but always chickened out despite his friends constantly cheering him on. Claire thought it was cute and refused to stop openly staring at him and giving a thumbs up.  Cara swatted Claire's hands before holding them behind her back in a pretend arrest, pushing her against the straw pile.

"Sorry Officer! I was just trying to help you get laid," Claire giggled. "I hope you're into blonde's though,"

"This is so embarrassing. Stop, or I'm leaving," Cara snapped, feeling a blush heat her face as Wesker crossed her mind. Fuck, why now?

"Oh? so you are into blondes," Claire's smile was cunning. "Let me help you,"

"No. Bad Claire, bad, bad girl. No treats for you tonight." Cara scolded, Stealing the can of beer her friend stole from a guy before cracking it open and downing its contents. She wouldn't yet consider herself drunk, just pleasantly buzzed.

The boy ran off again. Cara felt bad for him and was actually tempted to go up to him instead. His friends kept a steady stream of alcohol into his hand.

"H-hey, " And then he did it, with the help of liquid courage, of course.

For the effort, Cara decided not to openly embarrass him with rejection but not lead him on either. Walking away backward, Claire gave her a thumbs up along with a suggestive motion of the eyebrows, making horrid shapes with her hands. Cara covered her face, hoping to purge the image out of memory. She'll get her back in no time.

Ben was a bit shy at first, but soon they got talking and enjoyed themselves. His hair was a few shades darker and shorter than Wesker's. She didn't have to look up at him as they stood at a similar, comfortable height. Slender and skinny, he would shrink to nothing beside the captain. Cara grimaced, realizing she had been comparing the poor guy to a demon. It wasn't his fault that her mind was occupied with someone way out of her league... the legal kind.

The barn was becoming more and more crowded, and the dancing crowd swallowed them. Sticking out like two sore thumbs, they did their best to dance. Cara felt awkward but seeing the dimples in his smile made her feel better even as it became a tighter fit among the crowd. They had to dance closer lest they got separated.

She wondered what it would feel like to dance with Wesker. He seemed like the sophisticated type. The awkward moves of a teenager would never be adequate for him. Did he ever do anything that was remotely recreational? What do villains even do in their spare time? Manipulating the feelings of underage girls looks like. What stupid, stupid thoughts.

She prayed all these ideas would go away soon, as the thrill of the kiss wore off, and everything went back to normal. Did she want to go back? Why in the world would he like her? she knew who he really was, and he still let her live. Why take the risk with her? she was just a seventeen-year-old. Useless to everyone, with no connections and no money.  

Fuck it. Cara refused to think about Wesker anymore tonight. There was a perfectly alright guy in front of her, someone her own age, someone in her league, someone she wouldn't have to hide. Someone who was looking at her with a soft expression, blinking slowly.

Cara placed her hands on either side of Ben's face and pulled him towards her, connecting their lips. He reacted instantly, kissing her back. His hands awkwardly hovered over her arms before stroking them softly.

He was a nice guy, not a terrible kisser, but she hated it. Hated every touch because it wasn't as good as with Wesker. She couldn't stop comparing, and it was frustrating, spurring her to kiss Ben harder.

She continued, out of spite, to kiss the boy who looked at her with affection. in the background, she heard a few boys cheering, likely his friends. This was wrong, very wrong.

A firm hand gave her waist a painful squeeze before it was gone, and she thought it was Ben. Her eyes flew open as she felt a warm breath by her ear. It wasn't Ben.

"If I was not undercover right now, this lesser specimen of a boy would've made some unforgettable acquaintances a lot sooner. You could've done so much better, yet you have chosen to this..." Wesker seethed by her ear, sending shivers down her spine. Her body froze, but Ben didn't pick up the cue.  Wesker's muscles were tense as he pressed against her back. She could almost hear the exhale through clenched, grinding teeth.

Then he was gone, slipping through the crowd just as he came. No one notices anything. Cara broke the kiss and shoved Ben away. "I'm sorry, it isn't going to work out." She hurried after Wesker, but he was already lost in the crowd.  

She shoved her way through the throngs of people but only managed to find other members of STARS in civilian clothes. None seemed to notice or recognize her. They must've been here on undercover work, but why? she put that question aside as there were more pressing things to worry about.

She felt sick and wanted to throw up, but nothing was coming up. she burst through the doors of the suffocatingly hot bran, raking her hands through her hair. The cool night air hit her heated skin, but she couldn't find relief. She wanted to be swallowed by the ground.

She needed to find Wesker. But then what? Apologize? Apologize for making her own choices? They weren't a couple.

She continued to look for him nevertheless. She walked further from the barn towards an old car junkyard. She thought perhaps a fuming man would need some privacy. A strong feeling in her gut told her this was the right way.

Cara walked far enough from the party that the music was nothing but a distant noise. It was dark and quiet, the perfect place for an assault. If Wesker decided to murder her, no one would find her for at least a week, stuffed in the trunk of a car. If ever.  

Grabbed from behind, she was thrown against a car. Sliding to the ground, she cradled her aching arm, squinting in the dark to see her assailant. Wesker kneeled beside her, his civilian clothes dark and expensive.

"Why cut it short? You should've kissed him more while you still can because he will be the last boy you will ever kiss." squeezing her cheeks harshly, he dragged his thumb with heavy pressure over the flesh of her lips, still swollen from kissing Ben.

As Wesker let go of her face, she felt the cold muzzle of a gun pressing against her temple. Her heart skipped a beat, but she glared at him straight in the eye. Daring.

"I don't know what you want from me! You told me to keep out of trouble, and I did. Yet here we are," Cara lied. She knew what he wanted but didn't know why he wanted it.

"Were my intentions not clear enough? Do I have to spell it out for you? But I suppose intelligence was never your strength,"

Wesker pressed the gun harder against her temple, her glare unwavering. "Go ahead. Shoot me. why do you even bother?"

Neither moved, naked eyes locked with no shades between. Cara reached up and pulled the gun out of his hands with ease. He didn't resist, glaring at her with a tense jaw. Looking down, she almost laughed, seeing the safety was still on. This man couldn't bring himself to kill her. It was all a show of intimidation, and she wasn't falling for it. Not anymore.

As she made to stand, his hand pushed her down. Thinking he wanted the gun back, she returned it to his hand and tried to stand. again, he pushed her down. "Can I get up now?" she scowled, staring up at him.

Things happen too quickly for her to process. The hands on Cara's shoulder grabbed her legs, lifting her off the ground as Wesker wrapped her legs around him before slamming her against the car. She was winded, gasping for breath as he watched her with a smirk. She grabbed his arms, digging her nails into his defined muscles.

"You're up now," he whispered before his lips kissed her neck, sucking and nibbling the skin. A moan escaped her lips, and she covered her mouth immediately.

Grabbing both her hands, he pinned them against the car. "I need to clean your mouth of all traces of that boy,"

"Are you going to rinse my mouth with soap or something? This is childish and-" Cara's words settled in a moan as Wesker began grinding a very defined length against her growing sickness. She tightened her legs around his waist, drawing him closer.

Trailing his nose across her skin, he followed the curve of her neck to the ear, taking the lobe between his teeth. She melted against him when his hot tongue entered her ear. His tongue plunged in and out repeatedly like a preview of what he could do to her. Her heart went on an overdrive.

"Just kiss me," Cara breathed, a tension building in her belly. She wanted to taste him. in addition to sparing any additional marks on her neck to hide.

"No,” nuzzling into her neck, he grinded harder against her, earning a series of moans.  

"You know who else wouldn't mind kissing me-" Wesker slammed his lips to hers, kissing her roughly, their teeth clashing. Cara melted further, a smile on her lips as her tongue danced with his. She savored everything, The taste of him, softness of his lips, his warmth, and the building friction between their bodies. There was nothing more she wanted.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Three gunshots were fired.

Cara was barely steady on her feet when Wesker dropped her to the ground, his eyes scanning their surroundings. What little they heard of the music was drowned out by distant screams of the partygoers.

"What's happening?" she questioned, grabbing his arm, but his attention was fixed on the barn.

"Stay here," Wesker warned, already talking to someone by an earpiece she hadn't noticed before.

With his gun ready, he took off, running towards the barn. Cara made to follow him but was pulled back towards the car by her hand.

The fucker handcuffed and left her in the middle of a junkyard in the dark.

[the-dreadful-canine]

Thank you v much for the tag @noire-pandora, @oxygenforthewicked, @emerald-amidst-gold and @dungeons-and-dragon-age I appreciate you all~ 🥰

On this fine day, I bring a snippet of the gang having a sweet moment at the tavern (but then I throw angst in the end because I am built like this).

Cw for: gambling, drinking, mentions of blood, ptsd, mild panic attack (it sounds really bad omg)

Balanced on the back legs of her chair, Elizabeth hid a soft smile behind a sip of her cup’s contents. The well-fed fire burned merrily on the hearth, bathing her chilled skin and the tavern in flickers of gold and orange, enhancing the homey atmosphere its patrons created. Scouts, Chargers and members of the Inner Circle alike gathered, piling around a couple of hastily pushed together tables.

Groans of defeat and pleased laughs filled the air, fistfuls of sweets, coins and the odd piece of clothing changed hands at the end of another round of Wicked Grace.

Following the self-assigned role of fire keeper, she eased the chair’ legs on the floor, turning back to the flames. It burned low, so she fed it a new log. Reaching her will outwards, Elizabeth called out to some of the curious *kindlings floating above the table, coaxing them to feed on the offered wood.

“Kadan, please.” The sudden baritone rising above the hushed gambling made her head turn, and she watched a coatless Dorian caught on his lover’s embrace. He had his nose in the air, arms crossed and eyes closed, a clear dismissal to whatever Bull tried to convince him of.

Finding his reasoning ignored, Bull let go of his lover with a sigh. Who was more than happy to return to the table and take a healthy gulp of his glass. With less grace than the usual he bent halfway under the thing, returning moments later with a triumphant expression. Whistles and hoots followed the clinking thud of his shiny boots being dropped over wood, and more than one pair of eyebrows rising at the rare bet.

“Deal me in, rogue.” Dorian spoke, managing to appear somewhat regal even while hastily tucking his now much colder feet under himself.

“You sure, Sparkler?” Varric drawled, eying the expensive item “That’s quite the pretty thing to risk.”

“And it’s about to look prettier surrounded by everyone’s piles of coins I’ll win this round.”

“A brave claim for someone clad only in a shirt and breeches.” Taunted Josephine from over her hand of cards. The ambassador perched like a golden dragon on her chair, her loot spread around her. “This will be a pretty addition to my collection.”

“You, Montilyet, shall rob me of no more items,” he scoffed, “for I have picked up on your tell.”

“A lady has no tells, Pavus.” She retorts swiftly, sipping from her wine with a smile like the cat who ate a canary gracing her face.

“Oh but she does.” called a voice from the door, a series of disheartened mutters rising from the table when the owner revealed herself. “If you know where to look.” she smirked, eying the offered footwear. “Now Mister Tethras, if you will?” Leliana spoke, roosting smoothly on a chair and motioning for Varric to deal her some cards.

Elizabeth nearly snorted on her drink when a chunk of the table suddenly decided to skip the round in a wave of half-baked excuses. Wise decision. But her favorite necromant’s wisdom had drowned somewhere around his fifth serving of liquor and he grew bolder, teasing the new rival, and she shook her head.

How in the Void Dorian still had enough clarity of mind to play Grace was beyond her. Their shared taste for the spicy, embrium-infused drink meant they were sharing a bottle this night; she was barely half her second cup and already her body started to feel all kinds of woozy. But then again, her ability to hold her liquor was never anything to boast about.

A fond smile made way to her face when the laughing and voices of other companions joined the growing banter. They were precious, these moments of peace where they could all come together and enjoy each other’s company. Even if for a few hours, they could ignore the ever-looming presence of the falling skies and rising evil magisters.

Much too often the hearth provided a melancholic light devoid of warmth and drinks not for loosening and unwinding with friends. The burning found at the bottom of the cup was a way to numb down the senses. To forget the days on the battlefield. To hope their bloodstained souls would not stain in crimsom their sleeping hours.

Something cold and sticky seeped on her thigh, and only then Elizabeth noticed the shaking hands. The spilled red liquid trailed down her fingers to pool on the rug, like blood pouring from a gaping wound. She closed her eyes and held her breath, willing her mind to settle. But it was too late. The homey smell of burning wood and roasting meat wafting from the kitchens twisted, and the stench of smoke and scorched flesh filled her nostrils instead. The laughing voices, warm and friendly grew louder, too loud. They bled and mixed into each other until all she heard was a cacophony of horrified screams of the uncountable lives she had to take just to survive.

A gentle, firm tug at her hand, pulls her from the edge of the vortex inside her mind and she reopens her eyes, blinking away the blur of unshed tears. Pale blue stares back at her, the familiar depths filled with so much empathy and understanding and it feels like an anchor; one she allows to ground her.

She can’t hear his words at first, but works trough the calming exercises until his blessedly monotonous and unwavering voice returns to her. The rest of the tavern’s voices and noises following soon enough.

Once awareness returns Elizabeth notices the rug she’s sitting in, the walls of the attic a familiar sight. She has no memory of getting there, but is thankful all the same. The boy in front of her gets up from his crouch, tugging her to her feet with a strength that never ceases to surprise her.

“Come.”

“Cole,” she tries pulling her hand out of his, but the spirit refuses to yield his grasp “thank you for coming to my aid but, really. I’m alright. I’ll be alright.”

“You are hurting.”

“Well, once you reach your thirties, you’re always hurting somewhere.” She jokes, trying to lighten the mood, but Cole sees right through her act, and although his face wears the usual neutral expression, his eyes scream his disapproval. With a sigh, she gives in, allowing him to drag her down the flights of stairs to the floor level.

“I can’t make you forget. They can help.” He says with a ghost of a smile once they reach the last step of the stairs. And then he’s gone.

There’s no time to feel awkward for standing alone in a dark corner, Varric’s finding her in a heartbeat. He calls out to her then, a wide grin on his face, warm brown eyes glimmering from something more than being on high spirits.

“Stop hiding, Stabby!” the table perks up at the mention of her nickname. More eyes and smiles turning to greet her “You’ve got too little alcohol and way too much dignity left in your body, you’re making us all look bad!”

The giggles and assorted noises of agreement wash over her like a warm cocoon, and weight she wasn’t even aware being on her shoulders slowly melts away.

Maybe Cole was right, she thinks - hopes -, while walking to the table. They could help.

* I tweaked Elizabeth's abilities based off her origins. She's from Earth not Thedas, and so I gave her earth-like magic: her 'magic' comes not from the Fade, but from borrowing from the elementals in the ambient. The kindlings mentioned in the scene are that, smol fire elementals attracted by the flames of the hearth.

[sorio99]

Deltarune Chapter 2: Live Thoughts

So, since the new chapter of Deltarune came out, I've played it all the way through, so, here are my thoughts as I had them. Basically a live-blog, but, not live anymore, I wrote these in my notes app before.

NOTE: Obviously there are going to be ALL THE SPOILERS for Deltarune Chapter 2 in this, as well as Chapter 1. Reader discretion is advised.

Wow, okay, so I was wrong about it being immediately explained.

Various descriptions have changed, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the change to a new game, or the one to a new chapter.

I feel like Berdly is definitely a m’lady guy.

Okay, so, we’re not skipping class this time.

I really wish we could call Toriel and tell her we’re gonna be late again, but I couldn’t see an option for that. Maybe Kris told her on the ride to school.

Okay, so, Noelle is definitely adorable, and a huge lesbian.

Susie seems lovestruck too, kinda.

SHE HAD CHALK, AND SHE DIDN’T TELL ALPHYS BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT SHE AND SUSIE COULD GO GET IT TOGETHER OH MY GOD

Okay, honestly wasn’t expecting the closet to work again.

Fricking LOVE the new transition.

Okay, so, Ralsei knows about, the real world? How, why, and what?

Oh, that, makes, a little sense? But also, if we hadn’t brought the toys over to the closet then, would they all be, dead?

AND WHAT IS RALSEI IN THIS CONTEXT?!?!

Okay, but I love the new town.

Holy shit, save points have storage, AND a spare list? Hell yeah.

So, we’re all level 2 now. I guess they moved from EXP based (or, execution point based?) to Milestone.

Love the basement for bad guys, with K. Round standing guard.

Bitch said “Child abusers live in Hamster Cage”.

Wait, he uses the hamster wheel?

I don’t know if I believe the king about his “bluff” or not. I think not, but, I don’t know.

I can see the “Susie moves to Ralsei’s castle to escape her abusive home” fic already.

RALSEI GAVE KRIS A TRASHCAN, AND SAID IT WAS FOR THE MANUAL IF HE GIVES US ANOTHER ONE OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY MY SWEET FLUFFY BOY

And of course, the moss call-back.

Oh god, Susie just said “My own room, huh.” and my heart is ready to shatter.

This girl has one actual food item in her fridge, and it’s just salsa

Oh, scratch that, there’s ice, crumbs, and jawbreakers in there too?

Oh, okay, Ralsei did give her actual food.

Entering Lancer’s room gives the cartoon Splat sound effect from Chapter 1, and his bedroom is identical to Chapter 1.

Perfect.

And the sound effect, plays in reverse when leaving? Okay.

So, explore until we’re ready to leave, huh? Seems, suspicious.

Oh my god, I just realized, the LightCandy is literally the chalk Noelle gave Susie. What the fuck.

So, for giving the Top back his cake, we get regenerating SpinCake that heals everyone for 140. Nice.

Battle challenges, huh? This should be interesting.

So, we can get a ClubsSandwich, $100, or…Jigsaw Joe’s entire life savings. Okay.

Aw, Clover has separate heads in their dialogue box!

Just realized this “dojo” also has their bed. Odd.

Alright, let’s take these challenges!

Oh, so if we act with Kris, than spare with Ralsei or Susie…got it!

He has a mercy meter. There’s a mercy meter now. I love this.

Oh, of course his life savings is exactly one dollar.

I can already tell the Graze challenges are gonna be the biggest bitches.

Okay, so, being able to rematch bosses, with different gimmicks and attacks, but based on the same logic? Always amazing.

I love the little cut-ins from the other characters with certain lines, like Susie and Lancer revealing “for a price” means zero dollars.

“Cookie and Wife”?

The Blacksmith runs a bakery where he can fuse items…okay.

Imma get a Silver Card.

What the fuck, Mr. Society?

Okay, so, we’re “leaving” through the way we came in, so “surely” we’re going back “home” to the “real world” and our “family”. Sure.

LANCER was added to your key items.

Oh was he now?

And so was Rouxls, “even though no one wanted that.”

Oh, we, actually went back to the light world. Huh. Actually wasn’t expecting that.

Jack of Spades, and the Rules Card. Makes sense.

Still LV 1 here, thankfully. No murder yet.

Okay, thankfully I can call Toriel now.

…Undyne, what the fuck?

Also? This, car horn music, I guess? Is, um…interesting.

Oh, the, computer lab. Where Toby was in Chapter 1. Okay. Makes sense.

“Guess this means we can’t start our project.” I’d say the biggest obstacle is more that we have no clue what the hell this project is supposed to be.

Hmm, we could use the computer at my house, or we could have a fun Toby Fox adventure…

My house!

I knew Susie wouldn’t allow it, also, you always wanna jump in big pits? That’s, worrying.

Computer lab time!

So, computer themed, maybe?

Rouxls jumped out, apparently. According to Lancer.

Okay, this build up is creepy, where’s the fluffy boy?!

Who is SHE?!

Was

Was that Noelle’s chatter sound?

Asking for help?

OH MY GOD

ITS THE REINDEER LESBIAN

SHES BEEN TAKEN

NOOOO

And, I suppose, this must be, our queen.

Q5U4EX7YY2E9N. Sure. I’ll stick with Queen, yeah.

Oh, she’s a computer! That…that’s probably not, great?

Oh, those plugs are bad, brainwashers. Okay.

Okay, they’re both tired…but Ralsei isn’t here. Fuck.

Aiming at moving targets is hard.

2 Werewires spared, only 4 to go, I guess!

RALSEI IS BACK, YAY!

Fun Gang, back together, working to save Susie’s soon-to-be-girlfriend!

Rhythm game to start a new bumping song. Nice.

Might live blog less from here, since, you know, the game is starting proper.

God, I love Deltarune’s look and sound, it’s so clean? And expressive, and AAAGH, I just love it!

I love angry Ralsei.

First lose control laughing moment: Kris and Susie squishing Ralsei like a toothpaste tube, to play an arcade game.

Did, did I just play Punch-Out inside an Undertale?

Curing computer viruses with Syringes…sure.

Sweet is the rhythm guy! Nice to meet you, Sweet! You and Toby are great at this music thing.

Hey, Susie can act now! Awesome!

Ralsei too, because of bullying! Yay!

Now the whole gang’s dancing!

(This is where I took my first real break, to process stuff and relax, and also to sleep)

In between thought: it’s kinda interesting that, in Chapter 1, Susie basically had to be forced to care about Kris, Ralsei, and Susie, but as soon as Noelle is in the slightest bit of danger, she’s immediately like, “We have to save her or die trying”, huh?

“Reverse diss-tracks, where the vocalist puts themselves down and praises Queen…or noise music.” That’s some, interesting taste in music.

“All our songs are only 4 seconds long!” Damn, so you’re, like, Vine musicians?

So, the Knight is opening alternate fountains, that create dark worlds out of, more mundane places? Interesting…

So, someone new is leading the rebels. This, can’t go well.

Smorgasbord 2.

Oooh, a TP raising Item! Nice!

Oh, the guy who was already working for Queen is a Werewire now. Okay.

66 up arrows. Hmmm, I wonder if I can retry at some point…

Oh boy. Here’s the queens…wait what?

Oh my god.

Go kart time.

Noelle, you traitor! How could you!

Oh, okay. Berdly I believe more.

Also, “beloved”.

I love how Queen apparently didn’t even ask him.

“Light Nerds” Good one, Queen.

That’s one weird Check for Berdly.

Berdly, for God’s sakes, Noelle is a lesbian, you idiot.

You know, given this villain rant, I think I hate Berdly more than I do King. And I’ve dealt with both bullies AND abusive dads.

Oh god, Roller Coaster Tycoon murder (also Berdly is dead)

Garbage! Saved by it again.

Oh, this place looks glitchy.

Also, Susie, you’re not the king of the trash pile. You’re QUEEN of the trash pile.

Oh god, please don’t tell me she’s dying.

Okay, good, she just needed fluffy boy hug.

Fork in the path, advantageous to split up, huh? But there’s three of us, and, two paths probably.

Okay, I can either go with the Fluffy boy who might secretly be evil, or the mean girl who might get lesbian scenes…hmmm…

I’m flipping a coin.

Okay, Ralsei it is!

Oh, Susie is upset at me getting to pick.

Oh, they’re going together.

Oh, this can’t be good.

If I had a nickel for every indie game with a cat themed metropolis on my pc, I’d have two nickels. You can finish the meme.

I swear I just saw Noelle on the right. Something big in the streets, hmmmm…

Okay, definitely saw Noelle that time. Shame the Poppups, popped up.

…I get it, Toby, but I’m still mad.

Blocked 10 ads…okay, I still love this game.

God, I’m already missing my party members.

Okay, so I still have Lancer, but, I’m really hoping Noelle listens to reason, because Lancer is, not.

Oh god no, don’t fight me now Queen. And please don’t join me.

Alright, nobody likes Berdly. Figured.

God they’re so dumb.

“G-got any room for another truce?” Noelle, I would do a No Mercy run for you, of course I’m going to help you.

I can’t believe “No Triple Trucies” is even an option.

Yay! Noelle in party!

“LV1 Snowcaster. Might be able to use some cool moves.” She’s got Heal Prayer, a more powerful (but more expensive) Pacify, and a damaging Ice move for only 16% TP.

I love her.

I don’t know what a sugarplum is myself, actually.

Noelle, you have a one track mind, and I like it.

Lancer, she’s not a cream, and we’re not making her a bad guy.

Oh, and she’s scared of mice, I love it!

Ah, she’s never been in battle before, let’s see how this goes.

See? That wasn’t so bad, Noelle.

Oh, she’s a natural!

“Needles aren’t scary…” Tell that to anyone under 20, Noelle.

Also, “subtle” pro-Vax message?

Oh my god, I just love her animations.

So, the virus and the syringe are fighting…hm…

Okay, so, first, Noelle’s defend animation, also perfect.

Second, so Ambyu-lance’s bullets block and destroy Virovirokun’s…hmm…

Have I mentioned how much I love Noelle? This funky little Christmas Lesbian can do no wrong.

Oh my god, she can’t even confidently say we’re friends, and hearing Kris say it makes her happy, I love her so much.

Okay, so, Queen drinks Battery Acid. Makes sense for a computer.

Kris is so done with this shit, I can tell.

I am both scared of and loving Queen.

Oh Jesus Christ Berdly what the fuck is that.

That is not greatness that is…I don’t know. I’m pretty sure even tumblr isn’t horny for you, Berdly.

Christ, he’s gonna break Queen by being an idiot and then he’ll be the Chapter boss.

Her eyes say lying. Of course.

“I Did Not Know You Had… Nipples” that’s, a good point.

…Berdly, you disturb me.

Second lost control laughing moment: Noelle’s cardboard robot face, and Queen just saying “Wow Cool Face”

Lancer, what is the “illusory nipple technique”?

Oh, of course the music bots built the statue. Berdly would never do manual labor.

Oh, and, they built the next “big” thing…hmmmm…

Why are we, flavors of tea???

Okay, that should be all the werewires for now.

The, clothing store, sold me, a useless mannequin, for $300. Of course.

I am going to touch the cheese.

Maus!

Cheese maze, purposely ruined to spare more Mices.

Hmm, Berdly talks about Noelle’s crush. $20 says he actually thinks it’s him, or maybe Kris at a stretch.

Noelle is now immune to mice! Yay!

Oh, CD Bagel, Seedy Bagel, just got that.

Okay, sacrifice pacifist run to kill Berdly…I’m tempted.

Uh, Berdly, Noelle just one shot both your allies. I’m not alone, you are.

Jokes on you, buddy, I’ve been dodging A+ for years!

“(He hit me in the face with a tornado…)” Yes, Noelle, and I have papercuts on my eyelids. He do be an asshole.

Oh good, they both made Battery Acid Pies. Now we’re in a car together. Perfect. This is exactly how I wanted things to go.

Potassium

Who is this trash man?

Spamton, huh. Oh boy.

Oh god, this song has lyrics.

Oh joy, a mini boss on my own. Just what I wanted.

Oh, new game over screen! Nice.

Anyways, I hate this guy.

Okay, just one more deal, I think. I wonder what’s next.

I’m not giving you my credit card info, dude.

Oh damnit, 1% more.

Okay, I’m very scared now.

Oh, I lost $51. That’s, fair.

Okay, back in the car.

Oh my god, Queen loves Noelle too. Perfect.

Lancer took the mixtape! Nice!

Oh, he ate it…nice!

DECEMB…

Oh god she’s a little kid.

December.

I’m so sorry, Noelle. I really hope you’re going to be okay. We’ll figure out what to do.

Queen, why does everything you have explode?

Now the prize is on my head.

Susie and Ralsei! You’re back!

She can slightly heal me now…cool!

And she taught him Sarcasm. I love them all so much.

Uh, Susie! You can have it!

Okay, so, now Susie is both gay for Noelle, and suspicious of her. Amazing.

And Noelle is turned on by the threat of being killed. Have I mentioned I love these dorks?

The gang’s all here!

Uh, just got past fireworks, and, where’s Noelle?

Oh, okay. She was just watching Fireworks.

Oooo, catching mice minigame!

Oooo, more elaborate but simpler to control mice minigame!

Oooo, bucket hole!

Also, nice gay Noelle moment noted.

Oh no, please don’t take the perfect girl away from us!

Okay, so, I don’t like Berdly, but, Acid river? Bit much…

Oh, okay. He was never in danger. I hate both of you. GIVE US BACK NOELLE

GOD DAMNIT NOT THE CAGE AGAIN.

Oh, great, now we’re captured too. Except possibly Ralsei.

She only plays mobile games. Burn her.

For once Berdly is correct.

Queen, you are dumb.

Is that the super Mario world fade?

I don’t, next question.

No looking at my Search history!

Oh, hey, we can chat in here.

LANCER TIME!

YES I MISSED YOU YOU DOPE

Lancer, never say Pants hole again, and never say you were inside it either.

Lancer, do you still not know our name?!

So this is how they lampshade the tutorial-Toriel thing, huh?

Oh no, Lancer, please don’t die in here.

Um, are there rooms for all the kids at school?

Asriel…

Puzzle time!

Plot twist: Susie is not Susan.

Berdly is dumb.

Admittedly, I did brute force that second one a bit…

Okay, now Susie has outsmarted both me AND Berdly. This is sad.

Oh god, he’s gonna cry now.

Oh, my god, that’s what December meant. That’s why Berdly cares about Noelle. That’s why…oh god.

Oh wow, Susie’s a gamer. This is incredible Lore.

Oh wow, first Lancer’s face returns, now Berdly is Anime. I love this game.

Oh my god, Ralsei in a tux. I love him.

Alright, so, Lancer needs to go back to Castle Town, and we need to get the heck to Noelle. I hope Berdly’s plan actually works…

Aw, I wanted him to stay tuxedo…

Color Cafe, huh?

Oh god, Rouxls came here. I am terrified.

I love this hype manor song!

Toby Fox, why is there so much 3D Shenanigans in this 2D Top Down RPG???

Note: from here, I end up going to the secret of this chapter. Do not read if you don’t want to be spoiled on that plotline. Skip to where I say Pancake Batter.

Okay, I’m going back, and I’m gonna find this third blue check mark.

Okay, found it, now to get back to the guy…

Yay, fireworks, again!

East treasure’s hallway leading to Basement on 1F…

Oh dear.

So there’s a secret here after all…where is…

Found it!

Okay, how to open this lock, now…hm.

Well, one thing was in the field, so, maybe in the city?

Oh Jesus it’s Spamton.

$28, not a penny more.

KeyGen, huh…

If this is as hard as Jevil, I’m gonna be pissed.

Oh, great, just Kris going in. Again. Fantastic.

Oh what the fuck.

Oh Jesus Christ I hate this build up.

Oh, and I died on the elevator. That’s fun.

Okay, so I hate this elevator. A lot.

Okay! Took like six tries, but I made it past the elevator! Now, let’s see what’s waiting for me…

EmptyDisk…hmmmmmmmm…

Maybe take that back to Scamton or whoever?

…Ralsei, Susie, what are you two doing?

Okay, trash man, you better like this.

Oh Jesus Christ.

Okay, this is not what I expected to follow Jevil’s lead. But, let’s see what happens when I turn this disk in.

Oh, nothing happened. Sure it did. Just gonna walk away then…

Oh, wouldn’t you know it, something happened!

Okay, so big puppet robot man. This is terrifying.

THANK YOU SUSIE!

Roller coaster boss! Again! Oh good!

YELLOW SOUL!

Can’t write notes, gotta kill.

Spamton, oh my god. And it’s Neo’s outfit. How the fuck did I not realize before?

Im terrified, let’s GOOOOOO!

Holy shit is that the Undertale Game Over message??????

Many tries later

Okay, I think it’s actually Ralsei and Susie talking…

Quitting the game so they can get their healing items out of storage and buy some good ones extra later

Okay, third turn, and I’ve only been hit once! Granted, it did almost 50 damage to Susie, but, still, doing better this time!

Even more death later

Did he just, attack himself?

Is he surrendering?

I…I did it! I did it in one sitting! Minus quitting so I could grab healing items that did more than 40 HP!

Oh, he killed him by freeing him…….okay.

Dealmaker, huh? Let’s see what this bad boy is…

+4 defense, +5 magic (even on Kris?), and $+30%…”and…?”

Okay, Ralsei, you get that, Susie get’s Jevilstail, and I get many questions.

Alright, now back to the actual plot!

Oh…Kris has goosebumps, and Susie’s asking if they’re okay…no. I’m saying no.

I love these two so much. Now let’s save the adorable lesbian.

Pancake Batter. Alright, we’re good.

Sorry, Noelle, got distracted.

Mouse wheel!

Tasque manager helped!

Man, this room is big and empty, with an odd exit door and screens on the north wall. Hmmmm…

Toby!

Thank you annoying dog!

Okay, I still love this music. Just wanted to say that. Anyways, PROGRESS!

We’re tea covered now. Except Susie. She’s tea filled.

Oh god, I don’t trust Berdly with Susie.

God, Knight teased.

Duck ride with Fluffy Boy.

Okay, so, puzzle time, methonk.

High Five!

More duck ride!

Ralsei, do you wanna do the kissy?

Oh boy.

Oh jeez.

Oh damn.

Rouxls.

Ralsei, you read my mind.

Oh Jesus it’s the tank from the first game.

Okay, so, we, take houses? Okay.

I can’t believe some people thought this dork was Gaster.

Wow, I beat him in like 3 and a half turns because I blocked him in.

Another God Dammit because SOMEONE didn’t pay attention to what happened to Lancer.

His head is still blue…

Hey, Camera! Peace signs and hugs!

Mostly hugs.

Yay, more Susie and Noelle time!

Oh my god, my heart is breaking.

Okay, I love these adorable girls.

Oh boy, this is, weird.

“Point and hearts come out” or “Eat moss”. The choice of a generation.

Fair point, Susie.

She likes scary things, huh.

Kinky

Have I mentioned how much I love these two? Because I do.

Susie and Noelle are best girls ever, no objections.

Oh good, Berdly, don’t ruin this completely, okay?

I fucking knew it.

Noelle, you’re going to kill him, and that’s okay with me.

Susie, stop squishing him like toothpaste!

Oh boy, I get big “final boss” energy right now…

Werewerewire?!

Okay, so I just stole from Noelle’s room.

Okay, boss time.

Shit, I should’ve healed up.

Okay, so, I died, but, I can fix that!

So, this boss is calling back to how the town’s internet has gone out, a fact I didn’t even learn until watching other content last night when I should have been sleeping, because I forgot to talk to Alphys during the brief chance I had.

Also, now both she and Ralsei have made reference to the real world outside…hmmmm…

So I guess the plot is about Google search being evil…yeah that checks out.

Bitch, did you just funny runny way?

Hmm, I’d say 50/50 odds of him being a drama Queen vs. him trying to trick Susie into caring about him.

Yep, he’s trying to score a kiss. Berdly…get a job.

Alright, let’s save Noelle, and possibly the whole town.

The “Roaring” Knight?

Oh god, the determination…who is this Knight, what is going on, and how involved are we?

Wait wait wait wait wait wait WAIT

When she described the Knight making more darkness, she said they took their blade, and showed an image of a knife. Was…was this…

HOLY SHIT IS KRIS’S NIGHT SELF THE KNIGHT?!?!

Oh. It was a giant robot. Not a statue.

Susie’s dancing!

Oh yeah, he can fly.

Resistance! Yay!

Okay, so, we sentai up in this bitch.

I wonder how the hell this story would go if we didn’t go pacifist then? Because in Chapter 1, all that really changed was how the boss was defeated in the cutscene, and like a couple details later. This is, a lot more than that.

Okay, so, three rounds of HP, punch out for her turns, just keep attacking. Got it.

Two rounds down, one to go!

Yes, eat your own Baseball, bitch!

Oh, suicide attack. Well it was just a robot.

Oh. She still has us.

Oh fuck the robot is Noelle’s mom. Fuck.

Okay, so, Queen is dead.

Oh fuck, don’t take over the world with darkness all of you, please.

The Roaring?

Oh fuck, new legend lore.

Titans, Fountains, enveloping the land in devastation. Oh jeez.

Lost eternally in an endless night…that’s not paradise. That’s hell.

QUEEN IS ALIVE?!?! AND DIDN’T KNOW ANY OF THAT?!?!

Thank you, Susie!

Okay, that’s a good ending for a second chapter, it’s dark fountain time!

Susie, please don’t turn evil.

…

And, we’re in the computer lab!

Wait, Ms. Boom? Does, does Gerson have a daughter, or wife?

Lost control laughing #3: this

I love this game so much. Time to explore town again.

Okay, Alphys does crush on Undyne still, at least.

Oops, I just let all the prisoner dogs out.

Awww, Undyne likes Alphys too!

Napstablook, I love you.

Oh shit, Asgore used to be a pig?

Oh god, this Rudy storyline is gonna be depressing all the way through, huh?

Susie, can we steal the tower of the gods?

Hey, we can actually go back to Ralsei’s dark world?!

Okay, this is gonna be interesting.

Oh thank god, we can save in the epilogue now, cool.

Oh cool, King and Queen together.

Oh my god he calls her Queenie Beanie. I love this.

So, a card and a computer fucked to make Lancer, who is a card. Okay.

Okay, so Lancer DOES know Kris’s name! Just not Ralsei’s!

New battle challenges! Yes!

Might save “Ch. 2 All-stars” for another time, though…

Perfection is the mannequin reaction.

Oh my god there’s a dedicated room for listening to music I love this

Alright, time to skedaddle back to the real world.

Okay, so Alvin is Gerson’s son, and he’s depressed. Fun.

Oh, MK and Snowy are by the creepy bunker. That’s…fun.

Okay, so, Susie scared them off after they insulted Kris, because Kris said something about the bunker…hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…

Hey, Nice Cream Guy is one of the Ice-E’s employees! Nice!

Ah, PizzaPants. Never change.

Oh hey, it’s the little guy, who’s clone is a Gaster follower. And the bird guy’s still in the library, and the donut guy is still in his car…

Hey, Catty and Bratty are becoming friends again! Cool!

Omg, Sans’s store is open. Do I…go in?

Hell yes I do!

Okay, so, Grillby’s music still, but, different interior. Interesting…

Sans, a day and 2 years in this game are not equivalent. It’s a day and 3 years.

The trousle grows further away.

Oh jeez Susie’s been drinking the milk. Oh god.

Cool, Susie’s seeing Onion too!

Oh, never mind.

A song is coming from deep under the water…either Shyren is involved, or this is gonna take a turn.

See you, Su-

Oh! Hey mom! Meet Susie!

Pie for all!

Oh my god, Susie, my heart is breaking.

Okay, so Alphys and Toriel know about the chalk. That, kinda makes Susie thinking she’d get expelled for it, really depressing.

Okay, so, Toriel and Susie are gonna make Pie together, that’s cool. Still, pretty worried about, Kris.

Uh, I just ran the sink, and, uh…

WHAT THE FUCK

OKAY SO MY SOUL IS UNDER THE SINK, KRIS WHAT ARE YOU DOING WHY IS IT BLACK OUT THE WINDOW WHERE ARE YOU GOING

WHAT THE FUCK

…so we get a cute scene with Susie and Toriel, then Susie asks where Kris is and…they do this sometimes?

I’m very concerned.

Okay, Toriel is concerned too, enough to say “hell”. Even Susie is shocked.

Okay, so, they’re coming back, uh, okay, this isn’t good, right?

Stopped the faucet, opened the drawer, and…we’re back?!

Kris what the fuck are you doing

And why couldn’t we find Asgore in the town?

Okay, so, we��re all sleeping in the living room. I, guess tomorrow’s the weekend, probably? I don’t know?

Susie, doesn’t have caring parents, I guess?

Oh god, Susie wants them to come to our world, but, Lancer is a playing card, he can’t…I don’t know. I’ll say it’s “far-fetched”.

There’s a festival, apparently. This seems…suspicious.

I’d take Ralsei, so you could take Noelle.

She’s asleep.

That, might not be good, in this context.

Okay, so, we’re asleep too, I think?

Oh god, Toriel’s tires are slashed, that can not be good, in any way.

Okay, night time, Toriel and Susie are asleep…now what are you doing, Kris?

That, knife…

Okay, so, yep, they’re the Knight, and they just opened Darkness in their living room. This is, not, good. And, the tv’s on, and the door’s unlocked…

What the fuck is happening?

Ending credits song sounds, techno? Is this more of Don’t Forget? Or a remix? I hear the lyrics at least.

“To be continued in Chapter 3” OH IT BETTER BE, TOBY

So, yeah, that's Deltarune Chapter 2. In conclusion: this explains nothing, raises 120% more questions, and overall is still an incredible, wonderful game. I also like how each Chapter so far has been almost as long as a full play through of Undertale, and yet we're still somehow only 2 sevenths of the way through. Oh yeah, did I not mention? After completing it, it brought me to a chapter select with SEVEN DIFFERENT CHAPTERS, only two of which were available. So, you know. THAT'S FUN!

In actual conclusion, please play this game, it's free, it's amazing, and also buy the soundtrack on Bandcamp so Toby can make some kinda living.

[the-fiction-witch]

I Hate You P3

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY X READER RATING: SEXY 

I groaned as I woke up seeing the bright light cascading from the windows and door, Loud music coming from the other room, I groaned sitting up rubbing my eyes. I slipped my robe over my shoulders going out to the rest of the apartment seeing y/n stood at the oven making pancakes, her hair in rollers, in a little blue sleeveless dress slightly dancing to the record player.

"Morning" I groaned

"Morning Husband!" she smiled "Coffee?"

"Uhhh yeah sure"

"Here you go" she smiled handing me a cup of coffee

"Aww thank you wifey" I smiled giving her a kiss "why are all the lights and the music on?"

"Because this is the time I get up benny. Get used to it"

"Fine, see how long you can keep this up when I don't go to bed till like three Am"

"fine, have your coffee darling"

"I shall" I nodded having a sip of my coffee but it tasted terrible, "Ughh! what is this!"

"I made you coffee darling" she smiled

"what did you do to this coffee? what was the exact steps in you making it"

"Coffee powder, milk, Water"

"Okay..."

"I did however use Almond Milk"

"Ughhhhhhhh...." I relused almost being sick "Okay. Thank you dear" I sighed tipping the coffee down the sick "I'm going for a shower"

"Ohh you might want to wait, I used up all the hot water" she smiled "sorry darling"

".... Its fine dear" I sighed starting up the shower and it was a cold as ice, "I'm gonna use your shampoo okay hun I'm out of mine" I told her as I climbed in the shower

"No! benny! it's mine use your own!"

"what's yours is mine darling"

"Fine, Ohh by the way I used your razor to shave my legs"

"... You know what that's not a problem, I wasn't planning on shaving,"

"You should"

"Should I?"

"It would make your wife happy"

"so would a divorce and I'm not giving you that either"

"I'll wax it in your sleep"

"You wouldn't dare"

"Wouldn't I Benny?" she smiled as she did her hair "Ohh I'm having some friends over later by the way"

".... fine. Then I'm having the boys over tomorrow" I told her as I climbed out my shower I smirked and dried off then threw my towel on the floor and wrapped my robe around me she seemed annoyed with me already "Feel free to leave me wifey, It's only going to get worse"

"Ohh is it now? well I'm going to stay put, I know I can last longer then you"

"why so sure darling?"

"Ohh I'm two days out from my period benny. You ready for it?"

"are you now? How about I start getting really into Diy projects that I will never complete"

"How about I get really into cooking and constantly make terrible foods"

"I'm never buying a dish washer"

"I'm gonna get a cat"

"I swear to go I will stat having chess themed orgies in this house, with or without your participation"

"I going to take a female lover"

".... Actually I'm fine with that. In fact I'd be slightly into it" I shrug "I will..."

"You'll what?"

"I will get you so fucking pregnant, you'll give birth to fucking twins or worse"

"My god do I hate you"

"I hate you too" I smiled pulling her to kiss me she resisted at first but happily kissed me back wrapping her arms around me tightly

"You'd be into me having a side girlfriend?"

"Kinda yeah? If you'll let me watch"

"You're disgusting" she sighed going to the bedroom

"what! It's hot!" I complain following her but she threw my jeans at me

"Put pants on!"

"My house! I can walk around naked if I want"

".... Damn it I can't you'll enjoy it"

"I will" I nodded "Infact could you, like seriously. that would be very very nice wifey" I smirked cuddling her from behind

"Hands off unless your going to fuck me benny," she laughs pushing me off her "Can't try this sugar sweet before you buy" she smirked playing with her hair and shaking her ass at me so much her dress physically moved from side to side with her shaking

"I thought I had bought it. considering... we are married."

"Don't you poke holes in my sexy analogy"

"Maybe I would have had sex with you if you'd given me a minuet"

"Nope! dwindling to none existent sex life. Welcome to married like benny watts"

"Our sex life is not dwindling if I have anything to say about it"

"Who said you did?"

"Our sex life is not going anywhere" I smirked grabbing her pulling her to my chest and grabbing her ass "Not at least till give got you pregnant y/n"

"You are never getting me pregnant"

"Aren't I?" I smirked "Just you try and stop me"

"Even if you do I'll make sure there all girls, all hate chess and want nothing to do with there father"

"You have no control about that honey, I do remember. so I'll make sure there all chess playing, messy, dirty little boys who all look just like me"

"I hate you"

"I hate you too" I smiled pulling her to kiss me.

I sat at the table working on my next book, Y/n came in bringing the last two crates of beer in she had borrowed my car or well she took my keys without telling me she was getting beer in for her 'freinds' she had visiting tonight,

"who have you got coming tonight anyway?"

"My friends"

"what friends?"

"My poker friends"

"I thought you poker friends was luke and everyone?"

"Ehh some of them yes"

"You have other friends?"

"I assume you have other friends then just lukes and your chess guys?"

".... I do not"

"Ohh. Well I do" she shrugs taking the beer to the kitchen i tried to take one but she slapped my hand "Not for you"

"Owww..." I complained "How many people are coming then?"

"A few"

"A few?"

"Just some poker friends, some biker friends, and Dan he's my bestie"

"Is he now?"

"will you just chill. also pack your chess board away unless you want it broken"

"why?"

"Because It'll get broken if you leave it there" she laughs

"I am growing more and more concerned about your friends"

"Yeah and I've been concerned about yours since I met them"

"Have you?"

"The boys are weird"

".... I'll give you that" I sighed

"Benny?"

"Yeah?" I sighed as I put my board away

"I don't like your clothes."

"You have mentioned that many times y/n"

"what! you do dress like a cowboy porn star!"

"Okay the cowboy I get where are you getting porn star?"

"The weird caterpillar you keep above your mouth"

"You love it" I smirked as I put it away

"But seriously benny I don't like your clothes"

"Okay?"

"Take them off"

"...Ohh" I laughed "Something you wanted wifey?" I smirked leaning on the kitchen counter beside her

"Nope just wanted to make you hard so I can abandon you" she smirked groping my dick though my jeans and then walking off

"You are evil"

"yep" she smiled as the door knocked "Get the door please husband"

"Yes wifey" I sighed going to the door as it was pounding by now, I opened it and almost gulped seeing the gang of tall, muscular, burley, heavily tattooed, leather jacket wearing men with bags and boxes of beer. "Uuuuuhhhh Hello" I smiled

"Y/n?"

"Uhh Yes, that uh that's uhh she's over there" I told them letting them all in,

"Ahhh my boys!" she smiled hugging them each tightly, once they where all inside I shut the door as they opened the first box of beer, My god she's turn my flat into a biker bar.

"y/n? are they going to kill me?" I whispered to her

"Maybe if you piss them off. wouldn't be the first time" she smiled as she walked off to chat with some others

"Wait- what? what do you mean wouldn't be the first time?" I asked her "Y/n? Y/n? Don't leave me alone" I whined following her carefully

"Benny watts are you scared?"

"Yes! this is little the first time in my life I'm NOT the most insane man in the room." I told her "I know I like to stick out but this... this is in a way I don't like"

"Boys?" she called making them all silence and look at us "Don't murder my husband...." she smiled

"That's it?"

"Don't murder my husband... Please?"

some nodded but most just returned to their conversations, their beer's or other such things, Y/n walked off to put some of her records on, and helped out one of the guys with something.

I mostly just sat at the table trying not to get in the way as my apartment was full of these... well biker guys, The smell of cigarette smoke wafting across the air, as well as the smell of beer, motorbike oil, and cannabis. The empty pile of cans and bottles of beer piling high by the door, The rock music blaring, men shouting and swearing at each other. Some guys arm wrestling others betting on it, spilling beer across the side, another group was doing something with vodka shots I wasn't sure, Y/n had helped one guy set up all the cushions on the floor like a bed and he had a little... let's call it improvised tattoo machine and sat cross legged smoking something as he did tattoo's on other guys, often he would pass the cigarette to y/n as she went around gathering empty bottles, checking on various things. as much as it wasn't my scene I loved how... she's kinda the queen of this shit, on anything she had the final word, on beer's, on who won games, everything went though her.

"Come on Baby? where's my sugar?" One guy asked sitting in the leather chair trying to pull her onto his lap

"Oi! hand's off Pete, ladies busy" she argues pushing his hands off her

"Besides, little ladies married now" Another guy spoke up from the table

"Yeah, how'd that little weasel get his hands on my baby?" He smirked more to y/n then anyone else

"Reasons" she smirked winking to me,

"Hey? Watts right?" he asked to me

"Yeah" I nodded

"You party?" he asks offering me a cigarette

"Uhhh no. No thanks"

"Whatever, fun little hubby you got y/n" He smirked pulling her onto his lap

"He's fun" she smirked getting off his lap "sometimes" she smiled as she walked past giving my cheek a kiss

"Y/n? your up" The guy called as he finished up the last guys tattoo

"wait your getting another tattoo?" I asked her

"No just touching up mine" she smiled "You wanna come hold my hand benny?" she whines playfully

"Alright" I smiled holding her hand so she dragged me over she laid on the pillows as this guy looked her tattoo over. He was taller then me, muscular and toned, Tattoo's covering every inch of his body, he was shirtless with only a pair of jeans and some suspenders, he sat cross legged on the cushion as he cleaned his needles and got some ink ready in a little glass dish "Y/n are you sure this is... sanitary on our floor?"

"Our floor's cleaner then the shop I got this done in" she laughs tapping the ottoman so I sat on it and took her hand "I don't really need you, I did it last time with just a lollipop and a foul mouth" she laughs "But... give you practice" she winks

"We good?" He asked her and she nodded and he started, it was only fascinating to see him touching up the colours and lines of her dragon even if at times it felt like she was going to break my hand till he took a break to change the colour or needle I don't know,

"fucking hell" I complain shaking my hand where it had gone numb

"Ohh this is nothing wait till I have a baby"

"Hell no, I'm waiting in the husband room with a paper"

"No your not your going to hold my hand that or stare at the human forcing its way out of me. either way" she smirked

"That is if you have a baby?"

"Like your not gonna get me pregnant" she smiled giving my lips a sweet kiss

"I might" I winked

"You don't I will" That Pete guy smirked

"You're done" The guy told her and she smiled sitting up

"You're turn"

"what? no way!"

"Awww what's the matter benny? You scared?" she smirked "I knew you wouldn't" she giggled as she got up "Guess I have a better pain tolerance then you,"

"I could sit though it y/n. I just don't... want anything"

"I bet you can't"

"I bet I can"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Put your money where your mouth is then watts." she smirked the room going quiet

"Yeah? Okay. If I do it you have to stop this stupid competing." I told her and she seemed shocked "we call the bets off, all of them"

"and what would we do about... everything?"

"I get to give in. and stay married to you. as long as I want"

"Humm found of your wifey now are you watts?" she smirked wrapping her arms around my neck

"I am. no more fighting, No more dares. and you stay my wife" I told her wrapping my arms around her waist

"And if you can't do it? If your chicken out?"

"Then we call our bet off and you win. you can leave me"

"Hummm... Okay" she smiled "But I pick what you get"

"Deal" I sighed

she smirked and pulled me to heavily kiss her, I happily kissed her back tightening my grip on her, I could hear the guys wolf whistling at us till she pulled away "Get cosy Benny" she smirked running to the table getting a bit of paper,

I breathed and laid on the cushions trying to get comfy staring at my celling while my head screamed at me

'Helloo! Earth to benny's rational mind what the fuck are we doing! why do we agree to this! She's gonna tattoo a dick on me isn't she?'

"You done this before?" The guy asked me

"Nope"

"I aint gonna lie to ya man, It's gonna fuckin' hurt"

"Yeah... I know"

"Ankle, under 15." y/n smiled handing this guy a bit of paper but I didn't see what it was on it "Get him on the bone"

"You're intentionally making this hurt aren't you?"

"Ohh relax benny, My first tattoo was my ankle"

"It was? so... it's an easy first place then?" I asked as she came over getting comfy with me

"Ohhh noo. I screamed" she smirked rubbing on my shoulders

"Thanks."

"don't move. Or It'll take longer. and hurt more" he told me

"Great" I sighed

"Ohh relax I'm not that evil to you benny"

".... we got married out of spite of course your fucking evil to me" I said starting to panic as he moved my jeans up 'ohh fuck oh fuck this is getting real, this is getting real, it's not to late I can get out of this'

"Yeah," she laughs giving me a cuddle "I hate you"

"I hate you too" I told her and as I did I felt the scratchy pain across my ankle "ahhh fuck!"

I blocked it out or at least tried to, Mostly just laid there with my hands over my eyes narwing on the inside of my mouth as y/n cuddled me and sometimes gave me kisses often going here and there to do other things as people began to leave to head home every so often i felt him drag something across my skin wiping away

"what uhhh what are you wiping?" I asked trying to focus on something other then the pain

"Ink." He says "and blood"

"I shouldn't have asked" I sighed

"Almost done" He says

"Is it normal to feel sick?"

"You're probably just low on sugar" Y/n laughs "You should have eaten something"

"Yeah well... waiting for my wife to make me dinner"

"Make him his dinner y/n" Pete Laughed as he had now came close to watch my pain sitting on the rug even if I did notice him ever so often ogling y/n

"Benny make y/n her dinner" Y/n giggled

"I would by my wife insisted I get my ankle amputated" I sighed

"Ohh grow up your getting a single line tattoo under fifteen centimetres. Not like I made you get my dragon" she laughs

"How long did your dragon take?"

"six hours in two three hour blocks one for line work and one for colouring" The guy smirked as he worked

"How much did that cost?" I asked

"Two crates of beer, fifty bucks and a free fuck with my friend Lina" she laughs

"How much is this?" I asked

"The beer and the cigarette I've had tonight" He shrugs "And your done"

"I'm done?"

"All finished man. you feel alright?" he asks as I sat up

"I feel like I'm going to faint or hurl"

"Go lay down benny," y/n smiled helping me up even if I couldn't put weight on my ankle instantly falling into her arms "whoa. Okay to bed Mr watts right now" she laughs helping me to our room and instantly she tucked me into bed "You get some rest okay sleep tight" she smiles kissing my head before going back to the living room leaving the door open a crack

"Back in a sec y/n I gotta clean up" The tattoo guy said as he headed to the bathroom

"Sure dan" she waves

'ooohh so that's dan"

I tried not to focus on the aching and throbbing pain on my ankle trying to get to sleep

"so? can I have a little sugar now baby?" Pete asked

"Pete knock it off. How many times I'm not into that anymore"

"what? seriously? but your my little biker baby?"

"Yeah well Not anymore"

"What? Because you got married in Vegas your actually going though with this shit? you got drunk and hooked up so what divorce him and lets get back to our sugar?"

"Pete, Look I'm serious. I'm married now"

"You can't really be staying with this little weasel"

"I am." she smiled "I Like being a wife, I like a lot of things about it but... I'm happy,"

I smiled a little and quickly fell asleep.

I groaned as I woke up my ankle still aching but I felt y/n cuddled up with me "Ummm good morning wifey" I smirked holding her close

"Ummmm hello Husband" she smiled cuddling me tighter "How are you feeling?"

"Better, now I have you"

"Yeah me too" she smiled kissing me softly I smirked and pulled her closer kissing her back being careful of her fresh tattoo

"so... we're married. and not looking for a divorce."

"Nope. Unless you like.. I don't know cheat on me or anything like that" she laughs "but other then that. I'm happy"

"Yeah, I'm happy too y/n" I smiled "We're happily married my darling"

"Very happy" she smiled "coffee?"

"Yes please my sweet wife" I told her and she smiled getting up and tugging me along with her, to the kitchen, I smiled wrapping my arms around her nuzzling into her neck as she made coffee, "We're really... not competing anymore? you're happy to stay married to me?"

"Very happy benny," she smiled turning to give me a kiss "For as long as you are"

"I heard... you and pete last night?"

"Did you now?"

"did you and him?"

"Once. Yeah, well you heard last night don't you trust me?"

"I trust you, Even if I hate you"

"Yeah I hate you too" she laughs "Do you like it?" she asks as she turned to face me

"Like what?"

"You're ankle?"

"Ohh. I haven't really seen it yet"

"Come on then" she giggled excitedly dragging me over to the Livingroom sitting her little mirror on the table and angling it down so I could see my ankle I was a little worried what I now Had permanently on me but I was pleasantly surprised,

The careful and beautiful linework of the outline  of the king piece

"oooohh... I like that actually"  I smirked rather impressed with it even if it was rather red,

"See. trust me" she giggled

"It's beautiful darling, I really like it"

"Good, I thought you would" she smiled moving a little closer standing beside me and I could see in the mirror as she got closer she had a fresh tattoo on her ankle too a tattoo in the same style in the same place on her ankle but of a queen piece so as we stood together they matched

"when-"

"after you went to sleep, before Dan left"

"I love it even more now, it's amazing my darling"

"Ummm" she smiled hugging me tightly nuzzling her head into my chest "I love you"

I was in shock, my heart beating quickly, I relaxed a little and hugged her tightly pulling her as close as I could "I love you too"

I smirked as we arrived at lukes my arm around y/n my hand on her butt though her coat

"Hey! you guys are togethere and aren't murdering each other? this is a rareity" Luke laughed letting us in leading us into the poker room where everyone else was already waiting

"Hi everyone" she smiled

"Hey" I waved as we got to the last two seats next to each other, I slipped my jacket and hat off  

"Drinks?" Luke asked

"Just a cola please Luke" she smiled

"Me too" I told him

"This is... weird" Luke said getting them from his little fridge "But come on you two know the rules"

"Course. You look beautiful y/n"

"Awww thank you benny, you look very handsome too" she smiled I happily kissed her giving her lips a sweet intense kiss

"What- What the hell is going on?" Luke asked as everyone was confused

"You go on wifey" I winked slapping her butt as I sat down she smiled widely and showed off her nice diamond ring,  and wedding ring. everyone looked impressed and shocked so I smirked and showed off my own with my signet ring

"You- You two are... fucking married now?" He asked

"Yep happily married" she smiled slipping her coat off putting it on the chair

"Yes! I knew it!" Mark laughed from across the table "the second y/n wasn't drinking I knew it"

"Yeah, Four months now right?"

"Four and a half" she smiled as she sat down and took my hand "I love you" she smiled nuzzling into my shoulder as Luke dealt the cards

"I love you too" I smirked giving her a kiss

"This is the most insane thing I've seen in my life. But I knew you two loved each other really" Luke laughed.

[ktrsss1fics]

Cake By The Ocean: Eight.

If you were to ask Georgina Ferguson what her last full day in Mykonos would consist of, never in a million years would she say a day at the beach with her boyfriend followed by a night on the town with her closest friends. As the bars began to close, the gang made their way back home. Mags and Jenna held hands and gossiped. Jamie, Keith, and Niall were singing some song from the early 2000s. Georgina trailed behind everyone reminiscing about her time in Greece.  She was drunk off sangria and the smell of a certain Irishman’s cologne. This trip was exactly what she needed. Her heart was happy and her love meter was full. 

“Ferg, wait until we’re home to undress the poor boy.” Dave said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. 

“Heart wants what it wants, David.” Georgina smiled as she took her eyes off her boyfriend.

“He truly thinks the world of you.” Dave said. 

“Assss he should.” Brittany slurred as she slipped her hand into Georgina’s. 

A moment of silence passed between the trio. It wasn’t very long until the house they were staying in came into view. Georgina gave her best friend’s hand a squeeze as the rest of their friends filed inside. 

“You two should come over for dinner when we get home.” Brittany said. “It’ll be like old times.”

“But now we know they’re shaggin’.” Dave teased. 

“The kids are in love. Leave ‘em alone.” Britt said. 

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that she’s probably sat on his face by now.” Dave said smugly. 

“David!” Brittany and Georgina groaned  in unison.

The gentle giant placed a quick kiss on the top of Georgina’s head. “Only taking the piss, babes.”

“We’ve talked about this, what she does in the bedroom is-is-is her business.” Brittany said. 

“You birds take everything so seriously.” Her boyfriend sighed. 

“Oi, what are they on about, Davey?” Niall asked from inside the house.

“Nialler, settle a bet for me—“ Dave started to say before Georgina cut him off. 

“We aren’t in neutral territory anymore.” She said stepping inside. “Use your indoor voice.”

Marco, Ashlee, and Mar had declined the invitation to go out with everyone. No one understood why but they were not fond of the Terrible Threesome. Everyone was counting down the days until they said goodbye to them for good. 

Dave kissed her head once more before peeling away from her side. “Yes, Mum.”

“I’ll have a talk with him when we are alone.” Brittany said to her best friend as her boyfriend walked away. 

“He’s only doin’ it to push me buttons.” Ferg sighed. 

“Y’alright baby?” Brittany asked. 

“It’s probably because I’m drunk but I really don’t want to go home.” Georgina said. “It’s just going to be work and deadlines and I’m not gonna see everyone as much as I’d like.”

“I don’t know if you agree with me but this — as crazy as it sounds — has been the best trip we’ve been on and like I just don’t want things to change. You know?”

“It definitely has been one for the record books.” Brittany said grabbing onto Georgina’s other hand. “But you know you aren’t in this alone, right?”

“Yeah—“ Georgina said but Brittany shook her head. 

Britt looked up at her best friend. “We’ve all decided that we’ve got you. You aren’t in this alone anymore. We all talked and we aren’t letting any outside influences mess this up because—“

“He’s The Baby.” Georgina blushed. 

“And you’re you.” Britt smiled.

“Yeah but—“

“Oh fuck off Georgie.” Britt rolled her eyes. “They love you more than they love him most days.”

Georgina could feel her cheeks grow warm. Her friends truly meant the world to her and knowing they were fully supportive of her relationship with Niall meant everything. She truly didn’t know what she would do without them. 

“Fergithica and Brittania we need you over here. ASAP!!” Jenna shouted from the living room. 

“Where my bitches at?” Mags said through a microphone. 

“Oh god.” Britt said with her eyes closed. 

“I thought we hid the mic.” Georgina said wide-eyed. 

“Who the fuck gave her a mic?” Jamie cackled from the kitchen. 

Georgina and Brittany made their way into the living room while the rest of the boys joined them. Standing center stage were the drunkest members of the Hen House. 

“We wanna do karaoke!” Jenna said leaning against Margaret. 

“You lot can’t sing while sober.” Keith said taking a seat beside Georgina on the couch. “Who says you can in the state you’re in.”

“We have a thing called talent, Miller.” Mags slurred into the mic. “Might wanna look it up babes.”

“Yeah, as much talent as two cats in heat.” Keith mumbled making Georgina laugh. 

“Also, stating this now, Niall Horan is not allowed to sing.” Mags said pointing to the brown haired man. 

Niall threw his hands up in defense. “Whatever you want, babes.”

“Who wants to be the DJ?” Jenna asked, scanning the crowd that had formed. 

“What song you ruinin’ first?” Dave asked as he pulled out his phone. 

“Hmm… ‘Chandelier’ by Sia.” Jenna said causing the room to erupt into laughter. 

“Oh fuck right off you dicks.” Mags glared. 

As David cued up the music on the television, Jamie carefully walked in the room with a tray of drinks. 

“We are gonna need these.” Jamie said as his girlfriend got ready to sing her drunken heart out.  

The two women cleared their throats. Niall took this as a sign to make his way towards the couch. Not only did he want a front row seat to the show about to be performed but he wanted to be closer to the woman he loved. 

The Irishman had tried his best to keep his hands to himself when they were out in public. He didn’t know how comfortable Georgina was with showing any display of affection in front of their friends. He had made her keep their relationship a secret for months. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable by forcing too much affection too soon. 

Although he tried to keep his distance, the alcohol in his system and the way Georgina looked had his mind racing. He couldn’t wait until they were alone later. Niall leaned back in his seat before resting a hand on Georgina’s leg. This was exactly how he wanted to end their trip.

“This one is specifically dedicated to Keith Reginald Miller.” Mags said with a wink. “My biggest fan.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You wanker.”

“Woo! That’s my baby.” Jamie cheered as he took a seat on the floor.

The next couple hours were filled with goblets of sangria and very poor renditions of some of the greatest songs ever created. From Robbie Williams to Lionel Richie,  Fergie and the gang sang their heart's out in the middle of that Grecian villa. 

While Jamie and Davey belted out a Bob Seger banger, Niall decided they needed food to sop up some of the liquor they had consumed. The Irishman made his way into the kitchen to see what he could come up with. Naturally, Georgina followed in suit.

The pair decided on grilled cheese sandwiches. They hoped the bread would bring everyone down a notch. Fortunately, their flights were in the evening so they had time to sleep off the hangover that was sure to take form once everyone headed to bed.

“Britt wants us to come over for dinner when we get back.” Georgina said as she pulled a piece of cheddar cheese away from the paper packaging.

“Just us four?” Niall asked, pressing a spatula into a slice of bread making it sizzle in the pan.

“Just like the good ol’ days.” She said with a nod.

“That’ll be brilliant.” Niall smiled as he looked up at her.

The kitchen grew quiet as the couple worked in peace. Their system had become second nature. Niall was in charge of grilling while Georgina took take care of all the prep work. A pile of sandwiches started to take form on the plate within minutes. It was just further proof that they were in fact a good team.

“Babe, are you sure we---” Niall said, flipping over one last sandwich.

“We’re gonna be good.” Georgina said reassuring him. “I promise.”

“I love you.” He smiled. “Like a lot.”

Georgina leaned against the counter. “I love you too.”

Once the last sandwich was finished, Niall walked over to where his girlfriend was standing. He rested his hands on the counter beside her. He leaned in close. 

“Just so we are both aware, I’m fucking you as soon as that door closes tonight.” He said softly. 

Georgina’s face lit up at the husky tone of his voice. 

“You can’t just look like an absolute goddess and get away with it.” Niall winked.

“Unacceptable, right?” She whispered as he pressed up against her. 

“Completely.” He said.

“Am I going to be punished?” She smirked. 

“Fuck, Georgina!” He said squeezing his eyes shit. “Please don’t give me a hard on in front of our friends.”

Georgina giggled. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Niall rolled his eyes making her laugh more. Without thinking, Georgina grabbed his chin and placed a very deep kiss on his lips. Niall’s heart wanted to explode. All he had wanted to do that night was kiss her. Now that he finally had the opportunity to he wasn’t going to stop. A slow and steamy make out session began. 

What the young couple didn’t know was that their every move was being recorded from the doorway of the kitchen by a very despicable human being. Every kiss that was shared in that kitchen was strung together in a short video that could ruin them. 

Marlene truly was the worst person on the planet. 

With a smug look on her face, the young American stopped the video. She turned slowly but slammed right into the chest of a very angry looking man. 

“Delete it.” He said. 

“I-I-I- don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stuttered nervously. 

“Delete the video.”

“I don’t kn—“ She started to say as she attempted to get away. He wouldn’t let her past. 

“Delete the video or I will ruin your life.” He stated.

[distractedhistotech]

Lewis Joins the Gang (Again)

As usual, Arthur was the first to wake up.  He felt like he’d taken too much pain medication before going to bed and…there was something on top of him that was not Vivi or Mystery.  It felt smooth and warm.  He sat up.  “What.” He stared at the pile of purple ghosts covering him, Vivi, and Mystery.  On a purple bed.  In…a large room.  It looked like the entrance room of a mansion.

Wait, wait, wait…He was starting to remember.  “Uh, ghost guy, you there?”  Arthur started shaking Vivi.  “Hey, hey, Vivi.  Wake up. Something crazy.  And ghosty.  And maybe cursy.  And I think you’ll need to drive today.”  He picked up one of the Deadbeats.  “Why are you not scaring me?”

Vivi groaned.  “Five more minutes.”

“You are literally covered in ghosts,” Arthur said as he attached his prosthetic.

Vivi almost immediately shot up.  “Oh my gosh! They’re so cute!”  She started scratching one on the top of its head.  “Yes, you are, yes you are.”  She paused.  “Hey, where are we?”

“Haunted house,” replied Arthur.

Vivi blinked.  “Huh.  Why don’t I remember that?”

“Ghost guy said…” Arthur paused and looked around.  “Actually, where is he?”  One of the ghosts popped up holding a pretty blue heart with orange filigree all over it.  “Huh. Why does that seem familiar?”

“Hm…”  Vivi picked up the heart.  “Why is the color-”

Vivi was interrupted when purple fire shot out of the heart and formed a familiar ghost.  Well, familiar to Arthur anyway.  “Hey, ghost guy.”

Lewis blinked.  “Uh, hey.”

“Whoa!  You look so cool!” crowed Vivi.

Lewis blushed a little.  “R-really?”

“Yeah, the suit, and the skull, and the fire, it’s awesome!” said Vivi.  She frowned.  “Uh, did you do something to our memories?”

Lewis quickly held his hands up.  “Not on purpose!  I tried to introduce myself, but whenever I said my name, you passed out and forgot stuff!”

Vivi frowned.  “Maybe it’s a safeguard?  Knowing someone’s true name can give you power over them…”

“But I really wanted to tell you my name!” protested Lewis.

“And we appreciate that, but given the side effects, you probably shouldn’t,” mused Vivi.

“And-and there was that other thing,” said Lewis.  “See?” Lewis put his glamour back on.  “This is supposed to be what I looked like when I was alive, and that’s what I see when I look in the mirror, but Artie said that’s not what I look like!”

Both humans winced. “Oof, yeah, that’s not a human face,” agreed Vivi.  “Could you…” Lewis dropped the glamour.  “Thanks.  Okay, that makes less sense.  Glamours are specifically for blending in.”  Vivi hummed in thought for several moments.  “This could take a while to figure out…But we need to get to Techno Con.”

Lewis blinked.  “Techno Con?”

“I’ve got a booth there to show off my prosthetics,” explained Arthur.  “And I’m hoping to pick up a few new things myself.”

“Oh, congratulations,” said Lewis as an idea started to occur to him.  “But…Maybe…If it’s a not a problem, I could go with you.  Then you’d have plenty of time to figure out what’s wrong.”

Arthur’s mouth fell open in shock and nervousness.  Vivi thought a moment.  “That’s a tempting offer, but I have some concerns.”  She pointed at Arthur.  “Firstly, Arthur has to agree.”

Lewis nodded.  “Of course.”

“Secondly, how do we know you won’t try to kill us or drain our energy?” pointed out Vivi.

“I could’ve done that while you were sleeping,” pointed out Lewis.  He paused.  “Not that I would!”

“Hm…”  Vivi nodded.  “Good point.  Secondly, why would you want to come with us?  Most ghosts are tethered to a place.”

Lewis winced.  “I didn’t want to stay there.”

Vivi winced.  “Ah.  Sorry.”

“And…I was lonely,” admitted Lewis.  “I don’t want to be alone.”

“What about these guys?” asked Arthur, holding up a chirping Deadbeat.

“The Deadbeats are more like cats.  I can talk to them, but they don’t give me a response,” explained Lewis.  “They are my friends, and they helped me stay sane, but I missed being able to talk to people.”  Especially these people.

“Bit of an unusual motive, but I can believe it,” commented Vivi.  “But why us, haven’t you run into other people before?”

“I’ve only been dead for a few months.”  At least Lewis thought it was months.  He hadn’t been able to keep track of time during his trek to civilization.  “And I kind of died in the middle of nowhere, and it turns out it can take a while to find a road if you don’t have a map or compass.”

“I think I saw an episode of Mythbusters about that,” commented Arthur.

Vivi nodded.  “Okay, you want friends, but if you haven’t been dead that long, wouldn’t it make more sense to return home where your friends and family are?  Or are you worried about how they’ll react?” she asked.

“Oh, I actually was on my way home,” said Lewis.  “I just ran into you first, and I figured I could hitch a ride with you since I’m from Tempo too.”

“How do you know we’re from Tempo?” asked Arthur.

“You guys are kind of infamous.  I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in town knew who you were,” explained Lewis.

“True, random strangers will walk up to me and ask me tips about ghosts and stuff,” agreed Vivi. “What about you?  Any chance we’ve ever met before.”

Lewis perked up. “Yeah!  I was a chef at Pepper Paradiso!”

Arthur frowned. “Pepper Paradiso’s a restaurant?” he asked in confusion.

“Yeah, it serves pretty spicy food so you wouldn’t like it,” said Vivi.  It was why she’d never taken him there for a date.

“Huh?  You’ve both been there plenty of times though,” said Lewis.

“Nah, I can’t stand spicy food,” said Arthur.  “If it’s mostly spicy stuff I’d avoid it.”

Oh, this was so much worse than Lewis had thought.  “A-And we went to the same high school!”

“Were we in the same grade?” asked Arthur.

“Uh, I was in the grade below you,” said Lewis.

“Then you might be in some of our yearbooks,” reasoned Arthur.  “Of course we don’t exactly carry those around.”

“Ugh, yeah, and it’s probably been long enough that you can’t look at it online,” muttered Lewis. “I went to Tome Tomb all the time…Why don’t either of you remember me…” Lewis finished sadly.

“Well, in one’s day-to-day life you don’t remember every single person you run into,” pointed out Arthur.

“I’m seven feet tall though!” shouted Lewis, getting frustrated.  “I stood out like a sore thumb!”

“Okay, yeah, that’d be pretty memorable,” agreed Arthur.  “You’d think we’d remember someone like that.”

“Hm…You know, I don’t remember anyone talking about a chef at Pepper Paradiso going missing,” mused Vivi.  “I wonder if any memories were erased from everyone’s minds.”

The thought was so horrifying that Lewis could just stare at them in horror.

“Whoa, that’s a bit of a big leap!” pointed out Arthur.  “I mean it’s weird neither of us have heard about a local giant, but we might just be clueless. Heck, maybe we could call home and ask while we’re traveling.”

“True,” agreed Vivi. “Although even if that’s wrong, I’d like to help this guy.  Something really odd is going on with him.”

Arthur bit his lip and studied the nervous looking Lewis.  He weighed the pros and cons.  He sighed.  “If you can’t disguise yourself, you can’t really go out in public.  You okay with that?”

“Well, I could turn invisible,” pointed out Lewis, doing so for a moment to prove that was a thing he could do.  “If I didn’t let other people know I was around, would that be all right?”

Arthur thought for a moment before sighing.  “As long as you let us know where you are, yeah.”

Vivi gave Arthur a startled look, not expecting him to support this.  Still, if he was okay with it, she wasn’t gonna give up this opportunity to get a ghost teammate who would maybe help them out on investigations and let her study him a bit.  “Okay, so if you and your Deadbeats (Heh, funny name.) agree to behave and stay out of sight, you can travel with us until we got back to Tempo.  Deal?”

“When will you be going back to Tempo?” asked Lewis.

“Well, we have like 8 days funds, but depending on if we earn anything we might travel around a bit longer,” explained Arthur.

Lewis was familiar with this traveling plan, so he nodded.  “It’s a deal.”

“Great!  Now we should probably head out,” said Vivi.  “We don’t want to fall too far behind in our plans.”

Lewis nodded.  “Sure thing.”  He then proceeded to collapse the entire house into fire and absorb it into his anchor.  He paused as he saw the other three staring at him in shock.  “Uh, did I forget to mention I could do that?”

“Yes,” squeaked Arthur.

“Oops.”  Lewis chuckled nervously.  “Well, yeah, I can make houses.  And other stuff.”  He coughed nervously somehow.  “So, that’s your van, right?  I’ll just go settle into the back.”  He zoomed off.

Arthur turned to Vivi. “I feel like we might’ve bitten off more than we can chew.”

Vivi shrugged.  “Well, nothing we can do now.  Wanna go grab some waffles?”

“Hm…I’d rather just have some yogurt and fruit.  Not that hungry,” said Arthur as they walked back to the van.

[procrastynol]

I wasn’t tagged, but I’ll take the invitation from @theghostcaptain and just hop on the train to answer some questions about my writing. So, I guess thanks are in order? 😉❤️

AO3: @Procrastynol

Fandoms

Currently I’m trapped in the MDZS hell (focusing on songxiao, but pretty much everything else is also go, wangxian, 3zun, anything) with a side of SVSSS and FF7 (mainly tsengru and/or turks centric). I’m still working my way through the huge load of danmei, so maybe things like TGCF, 2HA or SPL will soon join the list.

Other things I can’t seem to let go of include FF15, Mass Effect, Dragon Age and a hint of Marvel and Star Wars. If you want to go really far back, you can add LotR and Hobbit to the pile.

Where You Post

You can find all of my fics on AO3 @Procrastynol

​I rarely use tumblr anymore, mostly for keeping all the links to my fics organised in one place - and to read meta that will shred my poor heart. My main social media is Twitter, so if you want to yell at me, please go over there and feel free to do so.

Most Popular Oneshot

Conflict of Interest (FF7, tsengru, domestic fluff and dogs)

I started this one on a whim in August 2020 because A) the hype for FF7 Remake was real and B) plague times, yay! It got me back into writing fanfiction after not having done so for several years, and I’m still surprised how positively it has been received among the people who read FF7 fanfictions. A follow-up is currently in its early drafting state.

Most Popular Multichap

None (so far). But I have something brewing for my songxiao gang, so I’ll just be a little tease and tell you to stay tuned for more until Summer 2021. 😉

Favourite Story You’ve Written So Far

Untethered (MDZS, songxiao, character study xxc)

That is my November/December/Christmas-procrastination baby, which started out as a midnight word vomit I wrote in a desperate attempt to find sleep. It only grew from there, and it has become my first deep dive into the character of Xiao Xingchen and the canon setting of MDZS. To this day, it just blows me away how well this story is received despite its length and the rather limited songxiao bubble. I’m really proud of what I did here, and it has been a while since I could say that about anything I have written.

Fic You Were Nervous to Post

Frostbloom Flowers (MDZS, modern songxiao, flowershop AU)

This was my absolute first fic for the fandom, and my second fic in total after the unexpected “success” of Conflict of Interest. I was so scared to get the characters or the setting wrong, even more so since this was a prompt fill for the songxiao Secret Santa event. It has done surprisingly well, so well actually, that I have turned this into a series that I will continue this February.

How You Choose Your Titles

They either come to me or the don’t. Really, there is almost nothing in between. Sometimes a poem, a line, a lyric, an image, SOMETHING sparks my imagination and the title is the first thing I have.

If it is the other way around, the idea usually revolves around a certain dialogue, scene, setting, etc. that I want to explore and I really struggle finding a title for it once the fic is finished. There are rare instances where a title comes to me simply while working on a fic, but mostly it’s hit or miss. If it is the latter, I usually sit in my room and decide to name stories after the first thing my eyes land on 5 minutes before posting them. 😅

Do You Outline

90% of times I do. Especially larger works or multichaps need an outline. I sometimes try to write non-chronologically, and I have a really hard time doing it, so the outline becomes my LIFELINE. It allows me to skip over parts I find hard and just put the famous [get there] in certain spaces, knowing I can come back later to flesh them out because the outline guides through this process.

For oneshots, I sometimes freestyle, but even then I usually write down a few lines for the scenes/dialogues I really want to include and put them in the corresponding order, so I have a goal to work towards to and don’t start meandering around.

I hate doing them, though, even though I largely depend on outlines.

Complete

All of my fics are complete at the moment, but I have two on-going series that I’m feeding with new entries in irregular intervals.

In Progress

I have some WIPS, but none of them are in the process of being published right now. But there are a few things I’m working on, so follow me to the next paragraph if you want more details on that. 😁

Coming Soon / Not Yet Started

Curiosity killed the Cat [WT] - which is a MDZS multichapter fic I have started working on last December. I really wanted to try writing a case fic for once, something more than just drama and romance (although drama and romance will still be very much part of this). Plotting a murder mystery is really new to me and sometimes exhausting, but so far I’m having a lot of fun doing it. I don’t want to spoil the details, but it will definitely focus on pre-canon songxiao and a mysterious haunting/murder they encounter during their travels.

Another thing would be the continuation of the Egret Flower series. Currently I’m finalising the second part, writing on part three and four has already begun. Part two will feature songxiao going on the date that has been teased in the first part, Frostbloom Flowers, and part three is currently giving me a hard time because I decided to include some wangxian - we’ll see how it goes.

I’m also trying to feed the Shinra fandom a bit, since it got me back into writing literally days before I got swept away by MDZS and danmei hell. But tsengru still holds a place in my heart, has done so for years, and so Conflict of Interest has now also been turned into a series, It’s me or the Dog, and the second part for this series is also outlined already and just waiting for me to flesh it out.

Upcoming Work You’re Most Excited About

Curiosity killed the Cat [WT], definitely. I have only ever finished one other multichap in my life, and I plan to complete this one before I start posting it, to feed my lovely songxiaoists in regular intervals (and to make sure this entire case fic works and does not go up in smoke halfway down). But since this involves so many new things for me at the same time, I’m equally excited and anxious to finish it and start posting it.

Tagging

Since I’m pretty much inactive on this platform I find it a bit hard to tag someone. I think @wangji-string might have something to offer, at least if they haven’t participated already (although if you don’t feel like doing this, please feel free to ignore me). I’ll just leave it open to the rest of you whoever read this and may find it interesting - if you want to do this, please, feel free to do it! 😉

[lokiondisneyplus]

Sasha Lane always plays the rebel. “Somebody make me a f***ing fairy princess, please,” says the actor, sighing with exasperation. “I promise I won’t say f***.” She is the type of plucky young star you imagine can do anything but, until now, Lane has excelled at playing the daring renegade, whether it’s as a teenage runaway in American Honey, the dazzling coming-of-age film that made her name in 2016, as a spliff-smoking “bad kid” in The Miseducation of Cameron Post, or, this month, as a violent fugitive in Amazon Prime’s Utopia.

The 25-year-old puts these sorts of roles down to her 20 tattoos and her dreadlocks. “I’m immediately seen as dirty and dark,” she says, recalling when she attended the illustrious Met Gala event in 2018, wearing a white lace dress. “I had diamonds in my hair – diamonds,” she says, with faux indignation. “Somebody was like, ‘She's so grungy.’ I was like, ‘What about this outfit says: ‘I'm gonna do a head bang and burn a town down?’ No. I'm sipping with my pinkie up and feeling very graceful and I wish you would just let me have my moment.”

Lane is just as captivating to watch on Zoom as she is in her films. She plays with her distinctive dreads – piling them atop her head, sweeping them over her shoulder – and her hands spiral around each other as she talks in a rhythmic southern drawl. When we speak, Lane has just got off a video call with her one-year-old daughter. She's currently in Atlanta, where she’s rumoured to be shooting the new Thor-spin off series, Loki, with Tom Hiddleston. “I'm just gonna skip over that one,” she says, laughing, when asked about it.

No one could have foreseen that Lane would end up here, though she is easily one of the most intriguing actors of the moment. She’d never planned on acting, let alone liked it, and thought she’d join the Peace Corps after college. But in 2014 her life changed forever when, aged 19, she was spotted on a Miami beach by Andrea Arnold. The director had just lost her lead actor for American Honey, the dizzying, sun-soaked Cannes Jury Prize-winner about a girl who decides to cut and run with a band of misfits. Among the tens of thousands of students getting wasted on spring break, Lane stood out.

“It was a crazy trip,” says Lane. “Me and my friends had been kicked out of a hotel and we ended up on this beach. I had no care in the world and that's when Andrea saw me.” Arnold told Lane she was making a film and later that night, while two of her friends were passed out from partying on her hotel bed, Lane improvised scenes in the lobby. “I had definitely been drinking that day, but I can hold my own,” she says now.

The next day over breakfast, Arnold asked Lane to stick around for another week. Lane was cautious. “I was like, ‘Alright, well if you turn out to be a murderer this is not gonna go well for you. I know s***. You're gonna have to really hack up my body if we're gonna do this.’ Which is weird to say to someone, but I did,” says Lane. She stayed, and by the end of the week she’d been cast in the film opposite Shia LaBeouf. She dropped out of college and flew out to Oklahoma to start shooting.

Her resulting performance as Star, a teenager from a broken home who hits the road with a travelling, partying sales crew in the midwest, was magnetic. With no professional experience, Lane managed to delicately balance her character’s mixture of vulnerability and grit.

Lane, like Star, left her life behind to go on the road with the film’s cast and crew. “I didn't know how to act,” she says. “So I didn't know what to do other than pull stuff from my own mind. I got to the point where I’d be crying to Andrea, saying, ‘I can't tell the difference between who I am and who Star is.’ We were in a bubble and had no visitors. We slept in s****y motels together, we were in the van for hours. There was no escaping American Honey.”

Star’s love interest in the film is the crew’s wild, hyperactive “business manager” Jake, a rat-tailed LaBeouf who Lane was reportedly dating off-screen. LaBeouf was intense on set. In one instance, Star was supposed to be angry with Jake, but Lane was struggling to conjure the emotion. “I was just laughing,” she says. “So Shia started telling me, ‘You're ruining this scene. You're f***ing ruining the whole movie.’ I knew what he was doing but it hurt and it was pissing me off. I just snapped and then they started filming and it was like, ‘Oh right, I see what you did there. You f***er.’ It was smart.”

The kids in the film, who are from forgotten, midwestern towns, are in a demographic that Donald Trump claims to be the voice of. Our interview is a week ahead of the 2020 election, and Lane is not convinced. “He's had his time and he has nothing to show for it,” she says. “He didn't deliver. I understood, especially back then, why certain people voted for him. They just wanted to believe that he would put money in and give us jobs, but it didn't work out that way.”

Like Star, Houston-born Lane moved around a lot as a child, between Texas, Florida and Dallas, and helped raise her little sisters. “I don't really like to talk about my family but my mom was gone a lot,” she says. “I played this role of being the glue, trying to keep everyone together. I grew up really, really young. Bad things happened to me as a kid but I had this feeling that it made me a better person. I have empathy and perspective.” As a result, she continues, she “internalised a lot because I never wanted people to feel my pain. I wanted to appear strong and light and be able to take care of everyone. Meanwhile, I would sit in my closet, give myself like 10 seconds to cry, then I would suck it up and be like, ‘OK, move forward, time to go get my sisters some food and act like everything's OK.’ I got really good at pretending things were OK.”

When Lane went to college, she started to crack. “I ended up getting diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder,” she says. “There are voices in your head, things are really dark. It's hard to explain to people who care about you that you can't sleep and you're hearing voices all day and you're sad and you're just tired. By the time I was a teenager, I was so tired.”

In the weeks before Lane met Arnold in 2014, the voices were “saying something nice for the first time”. “They told me, ‘Hold on, something’s coming that will allow you to fill your purpose and let you breathe,’” she says. “People ask me all the time, ‘If American Honey didn't happen, what would you be doing?’ Truly, I don't think I'd be here. I think it saved my life.”

There is a serendipity to Lane’s acting career. First, American Honey came out of the blue. Then, in 2018, she starred in Desiree Akhavan’s gay conversion drama The Miseducation of Cameron Post as a girl raised in a hippy commune. The part resonated with Lane as someone who refuses to put a label on her sexuality and whose brother had a difficult time growing up gay and black in Houston. “I've never seen myself as someone who's like, ‘Hey, I'm queer, I'm bisexual, I'm this,’” says Lane. “I just have a very broad and open and unique way of loving. I can literally fall in love with a f***ing squirrel. Anyone.”

Her brother, she says, “always prayed he’d be normal”, much like the characters in Cameron Post try to “pray away the gay”. She says the film moved some elderly conservative viewers to tears and has helped to change people’s minds.

After that, Lane landed roles in the warm indie drama Hearts Beat Loud and the horror Daniel Isn’t Real, and her latest project is the US remake of Dennis Kelly’s Utopia, about a gang of bright youngsters who are in possession of a cult graphic novel that seems to predict disastrous real-world epidemics, making them the target of a shadowy deep state organisation. Lane plays yet another woman on the run, Jessica Hyde, who has been evading The Network all her life and who helps the young group survive.

Lane studied feral cats to get into the character’s mindset. “For them, everything is survival mode,” she says. “You're terrified someone's gonna capture you. You don't hang in packs because you're a loner. That's Jessica Hyde.”  

She may be stuck playing the rebel but, through playing misunderstood outliers like Jessica Hyde and Star, Lane wants her work to bring people together and help us to understand each other. “I’m not the biggest public speaker,” she says, “but if I can make films that touch hearts and connect people, that's beautiful. Of course I want to be a part of that.”