#this got wildly longer than i anticipated

[tinyluvs]

I’m so happy your on my dash again!!! I was wondering if u could do something like post-prison Spencer where him and the reader do “it” for the first time after he gets out, and instead of it being rough they r both completely blissed out by being so close to each other again! And it’s super gentle, slow, and just like love-drunk.

ah glad to have you back angel! i would love to! enjoy! *mdni!!* this ended up being much longer than i anticipated!! ♡

spencer showers the minute he gets home from prison and naturally, he takes twice as long as he normally does. you sit on the edge of the bed waiting for him, watching steam billow out from the open door

normally he wouldn't leave the door open but the thought of having something separating you from him, for even a few more minutes was too much

you watch as he dries off, just happy to have him home. he wanders back into the bedroom, smiling softly at you when you hold out his pyjama bottoms, folded neatly in your hand, "here," you whisper

"thanks honey," he mumbles, rubbing a towel over his hair so it's mostly dry. you look away when he gets changed, only hearing his towel fall to the floor with a soft thump, "hey,"

spencer crouches down in front of you, his hands smoothing over your thighs as your eyes flicker over his face. he looks tired though his eyes are soft, "i've missed you," your voice wobbles as you speak, tears flooding your eyes against your will

you hold his face in your hands, a gentle reminder that he's really there, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks, "no tears," he mumbles, sounding like he could cry too

in your best attempt to stop crying you kiss him, softly and slowly, letting him sigh contently against your lips. his hands slide up your legs, settling on your waist as he leans into you, pushing your body back until your laying underneath him

he pauses to breathe, eyes searching yours wildly while he hovers over you. his hips roll against yours, a soft gasp passes your lips as a whimper tumbles from his, "just," he pauses, his eyes shutting slowly, "need you," his forehead presses against yours

"i'm here," you whimper quietly, feeling his cock pressing against you, hard and tenting in his trousers. he hums against your jaw before pulling your bottom lip between his while his hand drops down between your bodies

your back arches immediately when he touches you through your trousers and panties, soft circles being rubbed over your clothed clit. "sit up," his voice is muffled by your lips on his but you get the gist, holding your body up just enough for him to get his hands up underneath your shirt

the loss of touch on your pussy makes you whine and paired with the cold air brushing over your nipples, you become desperate. he leaves a sloppy trail of open mouthed kisses down your neck, groaning gently to himself when he gets to your tit

his hair tickles against your chest and your fingers slide up his neck, tugging on the hairs at the base, "spence," you plead, his mouth on your nipple and his fingers against your clit becoming more teasing than anything else

"i know," he breathes hard and kisses your collarbone before he stands up, towering over you. his fingers slip underneath the waist of your trousers, gripping and tugging to pull both your trousers and panties down your legs, discarding them on the floor as you sit up

spencer steps between your legs, knowing what you're going to do before you can ask, he hasn't got time that now. he hisses when you get your hands on him, wrapping softly around him as he pushes his pyjama's down so he can step out of them

the tip of his cock weeps in your hand, precome leaking over the pad of your thumb, "fuck, angel," spencer groans through gritted teeth, his fingers tangling into your hair as his head tilts back

you lean forwards, pressing soft open mouthed kisses from the base of his cock to the tip, barely sliding your lips around the head before he's pushing you away, "don’t, i'll come,"

he's always been sensitive but after months of not being able to touch you, to have you, it's increased tenfold. you flop back down onto the bed, watching him carefully as he leans over you, his hand between your bodies once more

slowly he drags his fingers through your folds, spreading the wetness from your entrance to your clit, smiling softly to himself when your fingers wrap loosely around his wrist

"c'mere," you whimper softly, pulling his hand away from you so he crowds your space. your nails dig into his shoulder while your other hand guides his cock to where you need him, "please, please ple-,"

spencer thrusts forwards, filling you in one swift movement. he grunts deeply against your neck, listening to you moaning, your head tilted back against the mattress

after a moment, he starts to move, pulling his cock out until it's just the tip resting against your hole and then he's pushing straight back in, splitting you open

your nails dig into the back of his neck, holding his head against you, his breath and lips ghosting over your skin. your other hand trails over his shoulder blade, scratching lightly until you're pulling whimpers from your boyfriend

"i'm not going to last honey," spencer groans, his chest rumbling against yours and his hips bumping against the back of your thighs, creating a gentle slap every time

"i know," you reply softly, moving your hand from his back and down to your clit. wet, sticky sounds fill the room from your fingers and where spencer is fucking into you like it's the last thing he will ever do

he grunts and groans against your jaw, his mouth open, matching yours where a steady stream of whimpers tumble from between your lips. he adjusts his hips, thrusting into you from a slightly new angle, the tip of his cock pressing impossibly deep into you

"oh fuck," you whine, arching away from the mattress. your tits bounce slightly, nipples catching against his chest. spencer huffs, cheeks puffing out as he licks over your nipple

his free hand slides into yours, fingers tangling together by the side of your head, squeezing each other gently as his cock starts to twitch, the veins on his cock rubbing against your walls

"i'm so close," you cry, fingers frantically rubbing over your soaked pussy. tears slip down your cheeks, the feeling of spencer everywhere, over you, against you, inside you being far too much for you to handle

"can feel it," spencer groans, throwing his head back when you clench around him, trapping him there, "so good for me angel, i've missed you so much," he rambles, repeatedly pushing the tip of his cock against a spot only he can reach

his pelvis pushes your fingers against your clit in time with his thrusts, causing your brain to switch off, reducing you to a crying, whimpering mess underneath him, completely blissed out

"god," spencer whimpers, a sound you'll never get sick of hearing, "angel, i can't ho-, fuck, i'm going to come," he whines, high pitched and panting hard

you turn towards your hands, still clasped together at your side. you kiss at the vein on his forearm, dragging your lips up his arm as your orgasm takes over, your entire body shaking

spencer comes at the same time you do, cock jerking inside of you as you tighten around him. both of you moan and pant loudly, your body shivering slightly when come floods your cunt, thick and warm, filling you up more after every wave

"oh my god," you sigh gently, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into you, his weight fully pressing you into the mattress, "i love you," you mumble, peppering kisses over his temple

“love you more,” spencer hums, scooping your body up carefully, making sure he stays inside of you. he manoeuvres you around so he’s laying against the bed and you’re on top of him

“never leave me again,” you whisper, your head lolling into the crook of his neck as his fingers trail up the dip in your spine softly, “please,”

“never, i promise”

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

a/n i proofread this but if you see a mistake, holla at me

[eggyrocks]

THE MANEATER CHAPTER SEVEN: ecstasy

masterlist

divider credits to roseraris

The smell of alcohol is soaked into her. Her skin is left sticky, and the cold chill in the late summer air raises bumps over her skin. She presses her palms into her eye sockets, and cries. The exhaustion and humiliation make her cry harder, and the crying makes her more exhausted and humiliated.

She’s not surprised when she hears the sound of a milk crate being dragged along the pavement. She lifts her head to watch Iwaizumi pull it up next to hers, plopping right down by her side. He looks as tired as she feels. For a second, he doesn’t say anything, just looks at her, and she looks back at him with wet, watering eyes.

“Actually,” he starts, leaning back against the brick wall behind him and crossing his arms over his chest, “that makeup smudged all over your face makes you look more goth than before.”

“Oh my fucking god,” she whines, dropping her head forward back into her palms.

Iwaizumi still stares at her. She can feel it. “That guy’s a fucking dick,” he says to her. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

This prompts her to shoot right back up, making her head a little dizzy as she does so. “Yeah, I fucking know. He was the worst. And, for the record, he cheated on me, like, all over the place and then went around telling everyone that I was controlling. Like, sorry dickhead, but if not wanting you to cheat on me with every fucking person you meet makes me controlling, then sure, guess I’m controlling.”

“Then why’d you date ‘im?” Iwaizumi asks, not looking away from her.

She scoffs. “Don’t victim blame, asshole. People will put up with a lot when they wanna be cared about.”

It feels too vulnerable as soon as she says it. Iwaizumi turns his head away. “Yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence. She straightens out. “And he ruined my fucking leather,” she says, tugging at the tight and wildly uncomfortable corset. It digs into her skin and it’s gotten a million times worse now that it’s soaked in gin. “This was the first time I got to wear this too and I looked really fucking good in it and now it’s ruined because he’s a piece of shit.”

Iwaizumi makes a noise with his throat that she can’t decipher. “Want me to kick his ass until he gives you the money to replace it?”

“He can’t afford it,” she grumbles, and then looks over at Iwaizumi. “Got a cig?”

He reaches around into his back pocket and pulls out a slightly flattened carton. She watches in anticipation as he pulls one out and hands it to her. She places it between her lips, ready to fish for her lighter, but before she can make a move for it, Iwaizumi’s got his in front of her face. It casts shadows over half of his face. She looks down at his hands and notices his knuckles are red and raw. He holds the lighter to the tip of her cigarette until it’s cherried.

She inhales, and he retracts the light. “Thanks,” she says on the exhale.

Her muscles feel worn. She leans back up against the brick wall, slumped and eyes closed. She doesn’t want to cry again but she feels like she might if she’s out there for much longer. The cigarette helps. Not much, but it’s better than nothing.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi says, and it gets het attention. She rolls her head to the side to face him, finding that he’s already looking right at her. “Let me take you home.”

There’s a lump in her throat. She swallows. His eyes are always greener than she remembers them being. “You know, you kind of remind me of someone.”

Iwaizumi smiles. “Yeah?”

She nods. “Hannibal Lecter. Your vibes are uncanny.”

He rolls his eyes and stands, but his grin doesn’t drop. “Let’s go, brat.”

“”Let me take you home,’ sounds like you’re gonna skin me alive,” she grumbles.

She’s adjusting to stand when Iwaizumi lightly grips firmly, not tightly, around her bicep and pulls her to her feet. She stumbles for a moment before steadying. “I was gonna let you ride on the back of my board, but now you’re walking.”

“Oh man, you mean I missed my chance to get on that stallion? Life ruined.”

“You piss me off,” Iwaizumi says, turning his head away from her. She still sees him smile.

She figures he can probably see hers as well. “Feeling’s mutual, protein powder.”

Iwaizumi’s not nervous. That would be ridiculous. That would imply that there’s something to be nervous over. That there’s a chance for a good outcome and a bad outcome, and he has no personal stake in the matter. He’s just doing a favor for a friend. He doesn’t care.

He knocks on the door, and takes a steadying breath. He’s not nervous.

For a while, no one answers, and he starts to consider the possibility that he might have to walk away, coffee and croissant still in hand. It’s actually just when he’s about to step away that he hears the fiddling of a lock, and the door swings open.

Her roommates on the other side. Akaashi, he recollects. The one Oikawa rants about. Akaashi takes in the sight of him with a slight, subtle flinch. “Hello?”

Iwaizumi shifts on his feet. “She home?” he questions, vaguely aware of how rude he’s coming across. Not that it’s nerves, or anything.

“She’s here, just knocked out on the couch,” Akaashi says, and steps back, opening the door wider.

He peers into their apartment, and sees her there, splayed out on their couch with her head on Shimizu’s lap and her arms wrapped around her thigh like she’s holding onto a teddy bear. The both of them are deep in sleep, and the light snores that he has to lean into hear definitely come from her.

Iwaizumi maybe looks a little bit too long, but he’s never seen her like that before. Face free of powders and glitters, eyes washed free of black smudging and her hair pulled messily out of her face. For a second, he smiles, and then catches himself. He steps back, and hands the offerings to Akaashi. “Well, these are for her. From Oikawa.”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “Oikawa?”

He nods. “Yeah, just doin’ him a favor, dropping them off.”

“Sure,” Akaashi says, taking the coffee and the little brown pastry bag. “Totally makes sense, man.”

Iwaizumi nods, “Yeah, well, later then, man.”

For whatever reason, when Iwaizumi leaves, he feels really, really fucking stupid.

extras!

konoha won the scummy ex boyfriend poll by one vote

he and yn dated for a year on and off and it was a nightmare toxic relationship and everyone was so relieved when they finally broke up

oikawa saw akaashi's subtweets about him and they have a little beef over yn going (which one of you said they were having a twink off WHO SAID THAT it was so funny i wanna give you an award)

iwaizumi may or may not have thrown a punch after he kicked konoha out (he definitely did)

akaashi ate that fucking croissant the second he closed the door and iwaizumi left

omi was in the shower 'washing off everyone's gross sweat'

have a yn-kiyoko-omi-akaashi apartment floor plan!

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @crownj1min @frvppe @mollyrolls @karasyuu @ciderscape @phoenix-eclipses @s1ckntw1st3d @cnnmairoll @soobin1437 @worldgyu @snail-squasher @dragonictears @ferntv @reignsaway @Lisoozi @staygoldsquatchling02 @gsyche @yuminako @spicana @hermaeusmorax @shoyostar @whorefornoodles @hqsimprevival2024 @atsumuenthusiast @lemonocityyy @itsdragonius @robinphobia @aboveasphodel @savemebrazilhinata @lllaw @dreamingofyeo @milesmoralesluvs @miliondollagirl @kitnootkat @soulfullystarry @bows4life

[wileys-russo]

please write a blurb about finding out that Lessi takes street dancing lessons, going with her to one and then her just being so clumsy!!! It’s so funny

this is longer than anticipated and went in a slightly different direction. starts off a little angsty but the end is super fluffy, still made me giggle

fancy footwork II a.russo

you sighed and tried your very best not to let your mind slowly descent into wildly overthinking the situation as you tapped your phone screen and saw it was now nearing seven, and there was still no sign of alessia.

your girlfriend had finished training at half past four and was supposed to come right home, but given it was hours later and she wasn't picking up her phone she'd clearly failed to inform you of plans she'd made.

well, thats what you were trying to tell yourself. it would be a whole lot easier if this was the first time this had happened, however it was not.

for the last two weeks alessia had seemed not herself, often home late without a real reason, or dipping off to do mystery errands and odd jobs at weird times, returning in different clothes and seemingly a lot more tired than when she left, shutting down any questions you had with a kiss and a swift change of topic.

at first you thought it could be anxiety and this was her way of coping, your girlfriend had previously suffered with it quite badly leading up to selection for the euros, panicking her hamstring would play up again or tweak and leave her out of the squad.

it had meant she'd trained harder, done extra drills, asked for more one on ones with the physio and the trainers.

only you knew in your gut this time that just wasn't the case.

you'd like to think the two of you had healthy communication down to a tee, rarely arguing or getting into rows that weren't the cause of playful banter.

on the rare occasions you did seriously disagree it was seldom that any sort of yelling was involved, you both going out of your way to listen to the other and do your best to try and meet them halfway at least if unable to see eye to eye.

your head snapped up as you heard the jingle of her keys in the door, sat curled up on the lounge with a book in your lap. you frowned when she didn't even call out that she was home like she normally would, only slipping off her trainers and closing the door after her.

"hi love." she greeted you with a tired smile, making no move toward you and instead heading upstairs toward your bedroom with her bag slung over her shoulder.

you sat for a second, internally debating if you followed her or not, eventually deciding you would as you marked your page in your book and placed it down on the coffee table. you jogged upstairs and found the blonde in your shared bedroom, riffling through her kit bag.

"what's a girl gotta do for a kiss hello?" you started lightly, poking at your girlfriend who turned toward you. "sorry, hi." alessia simply pecked your lips before turning back to her kit bag, separating the clean clothes from the dirty and you frowned at the lackluster show of affection.

"you alright?" you asked quietly, moving to place your hand on top of hers and giving her a look of concern as she glanced to you. "i'm fine, just exhausted." she answered shortly, pulling her hand away and bundling her dirty clothes up in her arms, heading toward the laundry.

"did training run late? i know the derbys this weekend and they can sometimes push you harder leading up to it." you followed, pushing yourself up to sit on top of the dryer as the taller girl began to put on a load of washing.

"no, training was fine." she murmured quietly and you let an awkward silence fall between the two of you, waiting to see if she'd make any efforts to further the conversation.

"did you do something afterwards then?" you pressed, not missing the way the girl tensed up at the question. "uh just got coffee with tooney, we caught up with jill at box2box." she answered, refusing to look up or meet your eye which sent further alarm bells ringing through your head that you tried to shut off.

"you should have told me babe i wasn't doing anything." you continued, nudging her with your foot and frowning as she pushed it away. "we don't have to do everything together, it's good to have separate friends and hobbies." the blonde replied somewhat bluntly, squatting down to fiddle with the settings of the washer.

"oh, yeah i guess you're right." you tried to mask the hurt in your voice at the comment which was incredibly out of character for the striker, the two of you normally going out of your way to do everything together, forever joking there wasn't something you couldn't turn into a two person job.

"i'll go start dinner then." you stated quietly, trying to hide the red flush of embarrassment that sat on your cheeks from the thought that your girlfriend might think you were clingy. trying to silence the doubts and insecurities which flew through your head at just a simple comment.

though glancing upward and seeing the obvious discomfort on your face guilt flooded your girlfriends features and she quickly straightened, moving to stand in between your legs, stopping you from getting down from where you sat atop the dryer.

"hey that was really rude of me to say baby i'm so sorry. i didn't mean it like that i promise, i love spending time with you." she cupped your face, pressing a much more sincere kiss to your lips and mumbling a soft i love you against them.

"its okay, you're not wrong. it isn't unhealthy to do some stuff separately." you forced a smile, still feeling a little uneasy at this piling on top of your previous worries about her frequented disappearances.

"i really am sorry gorgeous, i'm just tired and didn't think before i spoke. i missed you." she pulled you into a tight hug, the taller girl resting her chin on your shoulder and gently moving your arms to wrap around her. "i missed you too." you replied softly, sighing into her shoulder before the two of you broke apart.

"less, you'd tell me if anything was up with us right?" you asked hesitantly, the blondes eyebrows knitted into a frown as you did, both from the use of her common nickname which you rarely resorted to, much preferring more tender and sweet terms like baby or angel, and from the content of the actual question.

"of course i would baby. why?" alessia asked in return, worry seeping quickly into her bones as you shook your head. "nothing, it's silly. i'll go start dinner!" you forced another smile and tried to get down but the striker stopped you.

"hey, where's this coming from? talk to me." the blonde encouraged softly, grabbing your hands in hers and running her thumbs tenderly over your knuckles. "just drop it less, like i said it's silly, nothing even." you assured but it was to no avail as her blue eyes pierced into yours, waiting for you to explain.

"it really is nothing baby, you just didn't tell me you had plans with ella so i didn't know where you were after training and you didn't answer your phone and i just got a little worried." you spoke quickly in explanation, fiddling with one of your girlfriends rings as her hands still remained connected with yours.

"oh love, i thought i told you this morning i'd be back late. i'm sorry for worrying you, and i'm sorry i didn't include you in the plan in the first place." your blonde lover apologized sincerely and you nodded in acceptance toward her words.

"if it makes you feel any better jill and ella pretty much spent the whole time teasing me about how in love with you i am, apparently i talk too much about you at training!" the blonde rolled her eyes playfully before peppering all over your face with kisses, grinning as you finally laughed and sent her a proper smile, kicking her away.

"come on, i don't think i can be bothered to cook and clean honestly. get a chinese, cuddles and a movie?" your girlfriend asked hopefully and you eagerly agreed, squealing as she picked you up off the dryer, hands sitting securely under your thighs as she walked the two of you downstairs, seemingly much more herself than before.

but despite the reassurance you still couldn't shake the small voice of doubt sat firmly in the back of your mind.

~

it wasn't till days later, match day to be exact, did those voices get louder.

"oi oi if it isn't the future mrs russo!" you heard a familiar voice tease as you stood waiting for your girlfriend to change and come and meet you, leaning against the door of her car. "hello mrs bunney!" you teased back with a grin, the brunette gasping and smacking your shoulder as she joined you.

"he's gonna be the future mr toone actually thank you, if he's so lucky!" ella flipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically making you laugh. "when do you propose then? should we go ring shopping?" you mocked, the girl dropping her bag to the ground and playfully shoving you, the two of you catching up for awhile.

"so i heard you and less caught up with dear jill scott the other day, surprised i didn't see her here flying the man city flag high and yelling insults. how is she?" you made the mistake of asking, ellas face scrunching in confusion at your words.

"eh? when?" ella asked with a frown and now you were the one to look confused. "wednesday after training. less said she was late home cause the two of you got coffee and caught up with jill?" you questioned, your heart leaping into your throat as ella shook her head.

"nah man wednesdays date night for me and bunny." ella explained and suddenly it was as if your world came crashing down, the repeated excuses of going for a run with ella or a coffee with ella or a kick around with ella on wednesdays flowing through your head.

"hey, you alright?" ella asked softly, grabbing your arms as you locked eyes with her, nodding as you spotted alessia making her way toward the two of you. "yeah fine, maybe she just got mixed up." you forced a smile as ella nodded slowly, alessia arriving and throwing her arms over both your shoulders.

"ah my favourite girl, and you're here too babe." the blonde teased, the jab which normally would only be met with a playful roll of your eyes and a ribbing hit back toward her from you. though this time you shoved her arm off, quickly moving around to the passenger side of the car and slipping inside.

alessia frowned at your moody response and looked to ella with a raised eyebrow who shook her head, mumbling she needed to go and legging it away toward her own car. "what was that?" your girlfriend asked as soon as she closed her door, eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"you lied." was all you responded sharply, only confusing the blonde across from you who awaited a further explanation, which didn't arrive. "when?" she questioned again, turning her body in her seat to face you more, keys laying dormant in her lap as the carpark cleared, her white mercedes now one of the only vehicles left in the lot.

"you told me you were home late from training because you got coffee with ella, you didn't." you again responded quickly and bluntly, not missing the guilt which flickered across your girlfriends face as you did.

"baby-" "don't." you warned her seriously, now turning to face the blonde properly as you readied yourself, more upset with her than you could ever remember being.

she'd never lied to you before, and you hated lies.

"you spun me some lovely story about seeing jill and being teased for how much you love me and how much you gush over me at training. all bullshit! why? where were you really?" you asked seriously, doing your best not to raise your voice despite your growing frustrations.

"my love-" "don't alessia. where were you?" the blonde winced at the use of her name, biting her tongue as not to beg you call her anything but that. "it doesn't matter, i shouldn't have lied."

"no you shouldn't have! and it does matter, it matters to me. you know i hate lying and if it doesn't matter to you then it can't be that big. so tell me, where were you?" you asked firmly, the blonde only sighing and refusing to meet your eyes, drumming her fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

"well? where were you?" you questioned again, a little louder this time and only met with silence, a pained look on your girlfriends face causing your stomach to drop.

"alessia are you cheating on me?" you eventually whispered out, the anger seeping from your body replaced with a crippling worry as you finally voiced the insecurities which had been plaguing your mind for weeks now.

"am i what? baby no, never. i promise!!" the taller girls head snapped immediately toward you and she scrambled to grab your hands which you promptly tugged away, tucking them in your own lap.

"why would you say that? why would you even think that?" alessia whispered in disbelief, the shock not having cleared from her face.

"well lately you seem to be coming and going a lot and without much explanation why, and always at weird times. you come back sweaty and in different clothes, and i know ella see's joe on a wednesday so all those times you used her as a scapegoat when it was that day, were obviously more lies." you explained quietly, looking out the window instead of at her, unable to stand the look of hurt visibly evident on the taller girls face.

"i can explain all of that, but i promise on everything i am not cheating on you. i love you so much that it hurts and i would never ever take that for granted, you're the best thing in my life." alessia rambled, reaching out again for your hand as you only shrunk away from her and the blonde deflated.

"well go on then." "what?" "you said you can explain all of that, explain then." "can we just drop it? but i promise its not cheating."

"just drop it?" your head snapped toward your girlfriend who paled at her poor choice of words which had clearly upset you further. "you don't get to lie and make me empty promises and then not explain yourself alessia." you warned, trying to open her door as the girl quickly locked them.

"let me out." "no." "explain then!" "no." "alessia you better let me out of this car or i swear to god-" "okay fine! just stop calling me alessia." "explain then...alessia."

"you have to promise you won't laugh." your girlfriend warned seriously and the anger present in your features melted at her choice of words, replaced instead with confusion.

"promise!" alessia stated firmly again, holding up her pinky as you gave her a look of disbelief. "baby! promise me." alessia warned and you rolled your eyes but linked your pinkies none the less and mumbled you promised.

"oh god." alessia sunk down into her seat, dragging her hands down her face with a troubled sigh. "i've been taking dance classes." she mumbled into her hands as she buried her face in them and you frowned, assuming you'd heard her incorrectly.

"pardon?" "i've been taking dance classes." "dance classes?"

"yes! in secret, every wednesday at five thirty. but i'm so bad at it that i've been getting some extra help from the teacher when he's free. who is a flamboyantly gay man by the way!" she was quick to add in, aware of how this could come across.

"you've been taking....dance classes." "yes." "why?" "well i read an article that said it helps athletes with their performance, helps them loosen up their bodies as well as shape and tone, and with the world cup incoming i have to be at my best." "what sort of dance helps with football?" "...street dance."

"like...hip hop? popping and locking and all that?" you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the grin which so badly wanted to take over your face as the blonde nodded.

"yeah. but don't laugh! you promised." alessia warned seriously, though biting the inside of her cheek to stop her own smile from spreading.

"so instead of just telling me about this, you kept it hidden and we had to have our first proper row and i had to think you were cheating on me to finally find out." you sighed as alessias face turned guilty once again and she slowly nodded.

"oh less." you shook your head in slight amusement, the blonde apologizing over and over as she grabbed your hands, sighing in relief when you finally let her take them.

"i guess taking street dance classes is probably more embarrassing than cheating anyway." you commented casually, shock and offence flashing across the older girls face as you eventually gave in, letting laughter wrack at your body.

"you promised you wouldn't laugh!" alessia whined with a pout, though seeing the clear humor in the situation she eventually joined in, the car filled with the symphony of your laughter, both of you clutching at your stomachs and wiping tears from your eyes.

"lessi baby you are such a dope."

~

you eventually filled ella in on what happened, the brunette insisting that you come clean about what happened with the coffee shop lie, alessia was unimpressed but understood she was in the wrong.

though that didn't stop her from refusing to let either one of you go to class with her, or reveal anything else about them, changing the subject anytime it came up or distracting you with a cheeky hickey or her tongue down your throat anytime you pressed the issue.

which is how you'd ended up here, it was a chilly wednesday afternoon and you were crammed into ellas car with the seats leant all the way back, the two of you peering at your girlfriend as she parked, locking her car and heading into the dance studio.

"tooney i don't know about this! it feels wrong." you stressed, fiddling with the strings of your hoodie as the head of blonde hair disapeared inside and ella commanded you both sit up and get out of the car.

"oh don't go mushy and moral on me now man, come on!" ella shot out of the car and you groaned quietly but followed none the less, the two of you hurrying across the car park toward the studio, crouching down by the window as the room inside pulsed from the bass of the music blasting out of it.

"okay on three we look, but we have to be subtle. she can't know we were here!" ella commanded and you nodded firmly, the girl counting down on her fingers before the two of you popped your heads up, peering over the edge of the window.

you both exchanged a look of shock watching alessia dance along to the beat with the class.

well...try to dance.

the poor girl flung her long limbs around and did her best not to fall at the eratic movement, rolling her body and popping her hips terribly out of beat as she tried to keep up with the rest of the class.

as the blonde tripped over herself and went tumbling to the floor tooney let out a sudden loud boom of laughter, your face paling as she smacked her hand over her mouth and the two of you ducked down.

though not before the older blonde had spotted the two of you, hurrying to her feet and mumbling an apology as the class resumed and she burst out of the studio doors, looking around before her eyes locked in on the two of you and narrowed.

"shit we made it angry. go!" ella grabbed you as the two of you jumped to your feet and sprinted away, alessia charging after you with a yell, her long legs meaning she came closer and closer as you and ella neared her car at the other end of the lot.

"tooney save yourself man!" you yelled out dramatically as your girlfriend caught you, tanned arms wrapping you around you and trapping you in their strong hold.

"i'll never forget your sacrifice!" the brunette saluted and wiped away fake tears, diving into her car and peeling out of the lot, yelling out she'd see alessia at training tomorrow before she zoomed away.

"hello footloose." you teased, tilting your head back to look up at your girlfriend who glowered down at you with a glare. "i hope that was worth it, because now i am going to kill you." you laughed as the taller girl dragged you with her toward her car, already deciding she wasn't going back to class today.

"tooney will make sure the police find out who did it." "my best friend? i'm sure i can sway her to take my side as an alibi." "okay ouch." "plus, no body no crime. i'm gonna drown you in the river babygirl."

~

"okay my love lets just start off slow. finding the beat and following the rhythm." you instructed softly, you and alessia stood facing one another in the living room, having moved some furniture around so the space was more clear.

with much persistence you'd managed to convince her to let you help her with her dancing, the poor girls private lessons only furthering her embarrassment as they did very little to help her keep up in class.

so once she'd told you she was going to quit you took matters into your own hands to stop that happening, and here you were.

clicking play on the music you started to move your body from side to side with the beat, clicking along as you did so, alessia watching you intently before you encouraged her to join in.

"see? just relax baby, stop thinking about it so hard and just....move."

it was around two hours later but you'd already made progress, you stood up on the lounge clapping along to the beat as your girlfriend rolled her body along and started to finally get a hold over the routine.

"yes! see you're doing it!" you cheered her on excitedly as she finally made it all the way through without tripping over. "okay now freestyle, remember what i said no thinking, just move." you ordered as the song changed and you continued to clap along to the beat.

"go lessi, go lessi, go lessi, go lessi." you chanted over and over as your girlfriend danced around the room, spurred on by your encouragement.

"baby you did it!" you yelled happily as the song ended and you launched yourself at her from the lounge, the taller girl catching you in her arms as you pressed your lips to hers, her hands squeezing your thighs as your legs wrapped around her.

"hey where are you going? we're not done yet you only did the routine all the way through once!" you laughed and pulled away as she began to walk the two of you towards the stairs.

"well tesoro i think this has been so successful that we need to continue this little private lesson in the bedroom."

[sage-lights]

with you, there's no pretending

word count: 2165 chapter: 1/? Ever since freshman orientation, when Angela first noticed Amanda sitting in the gym bleachers, she’d been head-over-heels in love with her.

Angela was going to kill Arasha.  

Earlier that week, Arasha asked Angela if she could interview her about playing Grace Chasity in their high school’s upcoming production of Nerdy Prudes Must Die. Arasha eagerly volunteered to write this article for her journalism class, hoping that Angela’s insight would help her assignment stand out. Angela knew her friend had been working all year to impress her teacher and secure the position of Editor-in-Chief for the next school year.  

Just for fun, Angela made her best friend beg, playfully acting stubborn and difficult about the request—much to Chanse's amusement, who had a blast recording the whole thing and laughing at the two of them. In the end, Angela agreed, and the girls made plans to meet at their favorite local coffee shop on Saturday.  

That morning, she took Spork to the vet for a routine checkup, which, thankfully, hadn’t taken longer than anticipated. After making a quick stop to drop him off at home, Angela arrived at the coffee shop just in time to find a table near the back before the usual afternoon rush filled the place. She sat facing the door so Arasha could easily spot her when she arrived, then mindlessly scrolled on her phone to pass the time.  

Out of the corner of her eye, Angela noticed a girl with long, wavy brunette hair enter the coffee shop. She looked up, expecting to see her friend rushing over to greet her. But instead, in her place stood Amanda Lehan-Canto.  

Ever since freshman orientation, when Angela first noticed Amanda sitting in the gym bleachers, she’d been head-over-heels in love with her. She remembered leaning over and whispering (a little too loudly judging from the pointed looks the kids in front of them had given her) to ask Chanse who the new girl was.  

“Who are you talking about? There’s like a million people here,” Chanse responded, wildly swiveling his head around trying to figure out who Angela was referring to.  

Angela slapped his arm and pointed discreetly to the girl a couple of rows above them, “Over there, idiot!”  

“Oooooooh, someone’s got a crushhhhhh!”  

“Stop it! Could you be any more obvious?” She sunk further into her seat, “Do you know who she is or not?”  

“Nope, but I could find out.”  

Later, Angela learned her name and that she’d just moved to Los Angeles from Boston. Despite Chanse’s insistence that Angela should introduce herself and befriend her, Angela just hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it.  

That was almost four years ago, and even now in their senior year, Angela was no closer to Amanda than when she first laid eyes on her. Even when they’d been in the same AP Psychology class sophomore year, Angela had always been too nervous to say more than a few pleasantries. She didn’t want to come off as overly eager or that she was scaring Amanda away.

Angela admired Amanda from afar, how she greeted a table of friends with hugs and a “How are you?” and how freely she chatted and laughed with the baristas. The coffee shop seemed to brighten with her presence. 

But then Amanda turned and met Angela’s gaze. Shit, she’d been caught staring. Angela tried her best to recover, her face reddening. She turned in the other direction, pretending to search through her tote bag for something. She fumbled with her AirPods and pulled out a book, quickly flipping it open to her bookmarked page.  

“Hey! Angela, right?” Oh no, Angela recognized that voice. She glanced up at the girl speaking to her. Thank goodness for all those acting classes that taught her how to mask her emotions. She hoped her face looked calm and nonchalant, but also friendly and inviting. Oh, and maybe cool and suave as well. Honestly, Angela would take anything over looking overwhelmed at the fact that her long-time crush was now talking to her.  

“That’s me!” Just be cool.  

Amanda sat down in the seat across from her, and that’s when the panic really set in. “I’m Amanda. We had AP Psych with Mr. Hecox together.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right!” She prayed that her voice wouldn’t embarrassingly start cracking, “His class was definitely an interesting one, especially with the random dark jokes he’d thrown into the middle of his presentations.”  

Amanda chuckled lightly at her comment, and Angela felt her smile widen and her shoulders loosen. But when there was no indication of her leaving, Angela got nervous again.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude, but is there a reason you sat down? Not that I mind talking to you. Not at all. It’s just, um, I’m meeting my friend, Arasha, here in a little bit—oh, you might know her from Journalism then. Since you’re the Editor-in-Chief this year, right? Well, so you probably know that she’s writing a piece on the school’s musical, and she asked to interview me. So, I don’t think you can stay here for long. Oh my god, I sound super rude right now, don’t I? Shoot, I swear I—,” 

“Angela, breathe,” Amanda leaned forward and placed a hand over hers, interrupting her rambling. A thousand questions began spinning around in her head. Can she tell I’m freaking out? Is my hand abnormally sweaty? Am I making a fool of myself right now? Is she this touchy with everyone? Why. Is she. Touching. My hand?!

So much for keeping it cool.

“Did Arasha not tell you? I’m actually filling in for her. She messaged our class on Slack this morning asking if someone could take over because she woke up super sick,” Amanda explained.

“Oh shoot, maybe I missed that text from her,” Angela opened her texts with Arasha and briefly scrolled through to check even though she knows for certain that this a certified Arasha prank.

angela: you’re kidding me arash no way you’re sick

Immediately, Angela got a response. She could just picture Arasha’s smug face.

arasha: oh yeahhh i’m totally sneezing up a storm rn

angela: arasha lalani more like arasha lie-lani

arasha: lame but you’ll thank me later now go have fun on your date! but not too much fun ;’)

angela: NOT A DATE i hate you sm

arasha: you’re welcomeee

Amanda raised an eyebrow playfully, “Everything good with Arasha?”

“Yeah, everything’s good,” Angela fumbles with her phone again, shoving into the pocket of her zip up hoodie without even turning it off.

“Okay, good.”

“Good.” Oh no, did I just make it weird?

Amanda pulls her laptop out of her purse, “Ready to get started then?”

“Let’s do this thing.”

Amanda readied her fingers over the keys and looked over at Angela, ready to take notes like a professional journalist. “So, what can audiences expect from your performance as Grace Chasity in Nerdy Prudes Must Die?”

“Soup,” Angela answers cheekily.

“I’m sorry, soup?”

“Yep, soup! I mean who doesn’t like soup? A classic chicken noodle? Or a butternut squash soup?” Angela gasps animatedly, “What about a garlic tomato bisque? With a grilled cheese?! Come on, how could anyone hate soup?”

Amanda chimes in with a grin, “Broccoli cheddar though? Very divisive, I will say!”

“Ugh! I do secretly love a broccoli cheddar!”

“So do I! But have to ask again, Angela, what does this have to do with Grace Chasity?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. I will say though, Grace’s preferred soup is definitely dirty.”

Amanda laughs, “I feel like you’re purposely trying to confuse me now.”

“Gotta sell tickets somehow, Amanda!” She winks, to which Amanda laughs again. That sound, the resonance of it, settles into Angela’s chest and fills her with a blooming warmth. 

As the interview progressed, Angela’s initial jitters fade away. Each question Amanda asked felt less like an interrogation and more like a conversation she’d have with friends. By the time they reached the final question, she realized she’d very much enjoyed Amanda’s company.

“Alright, I think that’s everything,” Amanda closed her laptop and slipped it back into her bag. “Thank you again for doing this interview with me. I know I’m not who you were expecting, but I’m glad I got to chat about the musical with you anyway.”

Angela shook her head bashfully. “Of course, it was no problem.”

They both gathered the rest of their things and stood up, though Amanda suddenly moved in for a hug. Angela returned the embrace, even though she was still a little shell-shocked from the whole afternoon. Note to self: Amanda’s a hugger.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Amanda pulled away. “I always forget not everyone’s down for physical touch, and then I go and make it uncomfortable by hugging you.”

“No, it was alright. Don’t worry about it,” smiled Angela, reassuring Amanda. Neither of the girls said anything after that, leaving them staring at each other in awkward silence for a little too long. At least, it was awkward for Angela, given the whole “I’m in love with you” part. She really hoped she wasn’t smiling too much like an idiot. Maybe she should stop smiling. No, that would be off-putting as hell to randomly stop smiling. Maybe she should say somethi—

Amanda cleared her throat, “It was nice talking to you. I hope to see you around sometime.” Phew.

She waved to the retreating Amanda, “Yeah, I’ll see you around.” But there was still a voice inside her that urged her to say something more. This is your chance, Angela!

“Wait!” Angela called out, causing Amanda to turn back around. “You should, um, get my number. You know, just in case you have any more questions while you write the article.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Amanda handed Angela her phone with an amused expression. Angela carefully entered her information on the new contact page and passed it back to Amanda before saying a last goodbye and letting Amanda walk out.

Angela blinked a couple of times, hoping to snap back into the present. It didn’t help—she was too dazed from the whole interaction. Amanda Lehan-Canto had just talked to her. Holy. Shit.

After collecting herself a little more, she hopped in her car and drove home. Every moment of their conversation replayed in Angela’s mind: the answers she had given, the stupid jokes she had cracked, the way Amanda had sounded when she laughed. She pinched her arm over and over again to prove to herself that this all really happened.

As she pulled into the driveway, her phone lit up with a notification from her group chat with Chanse and Arasha—it was unfortunately named “ANGELAAAAAAA!” after the way her friends often called her name in disappointment.

arasha: your location says you’re home angela spill how did it go

angela: wtf are you stalking me

arasha: that’s beside the point

chanse: explainnnn pleaseee

arasha:  i set ang up on a date with amanda lehan cantooooooooo

chanse: A DATE?!

angela: NOT! A! DATE!!! it was an interview that arasha FLAKED ON

arasha: semantics

chanse: HOW DID IT GO

angela: it was chill she asked me about nerdy prudes and i gave her my number in case she had follow up questions

chanse: you gave her your number???? damn ang is finally make some moves took you long enough

arasha: YOU’RE FUCKING WELCOME MAN she would still be sitting on her ass pining away if it weren’t for me

angela: jeez it was just a casual thing calm yourselves

chanse: why don’t you text her and say you forgot to mention something earlier just to get the convo rolling

angela: um bitch i’m tryna play it cool here don’t wanna seem too eager plus i just realized i didn’t get her number…

chanse: angelaaaaaaaaaaaaaa dude you fumbled that big time

arasha: i put in so much work to make that happen and you fucked it wasted effort

chanse: you idiot i cannot believe you

arasha: you got no game fr

angela: Y’ALL I WAS PANICKING CAN YOU BE A LITTLE MORE GENTLE

chanse: no you don’t get a pass for this arash do you have her number

arasha: nah we text on slack also it would be hella strange if ang had her number without asking directly

chanse: ugh true i guess

At this point, she had made it up the stairs and into her bedroom. Frustrated with her friends, Angela tossed her phone onto her bed before promptly flopping down and burying her face into the pillows. And then, she screamed. So loud and so long that she barely heard the “ding” of a new notification.

Angela rolled over and felt around for her phone, already groaning at what she expected to be another annoying message from her annoying friends.

unknown number: hey this is amanda

Her eyes widened.

unknown number: i realized way too late that i never gave you my number so i thought i’d shoot you a text so you could saved it too :)

Angela threw her phone again and went back to screaming.

a lil author's note: i started this amangela high school au a longggg time ago, practically when this blog started because it's one of my favorite tropes to mull around in my mind. funnily enough, this first chapter was written for the smosh girlies week back in feb, but i deleted the whole thing because i hated what i wrote, so the first draft has been lost to time. then, i wrote it again and abandoned it again. it wasn't until my wonderful friend @babychosen asked me about it recently that i decided to revisit it and finally finish it for all y'all to enjoy! this is for @babychosen, @unknownteapot, @poppyfamily, and @shesmore-shoebill. thanks guys for always yelling about amangela with me <3

[penvisions]

for the record {a joel miller oneshot}

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader, brief F!Reader x F!OC

Summary: The longer, more dangerous patrol routes around Jackson are designated to you and one Joel Miller. You both have an understanding with each other, talking wasn’t the biggest concern for either of you, but being confident in each other was. He wasn’t a bad friend in your scavenged life, but then again you were beginning to think you didn’t want to be just his friend...and that’s got you more than a little sexually frustrated. 

Word Count: 6.3k (idk what happened, y’all)

Warnings: oh lord, okay: implied f/f attraction, implied f/f smut, use of sex toys, masturbation, language, pet names, p in v smut, sexual frustration, pining, mutual pining, reader is a hot mess, no use of y/n

A/N: okay, so this took a wildly different route than i anticipated? but i kinda like the way it turned out. I’m sure some scenes seem disconnected or the characterization doesn’t flow throughout but i got tired of reading and re-reading the entire thing and said ‘eh, it’s as good as it’ll get’. please let me know what y’all think?

Your hands released the hold they had on the lapels of his shirt, moving lower to rip open the snap buttons on his shirt to expose the top of his chest. He didn’t give you the chance to explore as he took your hands in his own and guided them to feel the hard length of him through his jeans. “This what you wanted, what had you so goddamn irritable all those weeks before?” He taunted in your ear, his warm breath on the side of your neck sending shivers down your spine. He twitched underneath your hands, and you felt your underwear dampen even more.

ao3 link || main masterlist 

“Ngh, it’s not working.” You whined pathetically, your body shaking on the bed. You were on your knees, face down on your pillows and turned to the side as your hands reached back to hold a pulsing toy to your center. The tingles you were feeling were almost what you wanted but they were weak, not building just fleeting jolts of pleasure teasing you. You felt like a fool with your ass canted in the air, knees spread to give you easier access to your folds, the toy gripped too tight in your hand. With a huff you let yourself crumple to the bed, the sheets making weird lumps underneath your form where it was bunched up from your fidgeting.

Your morning was not going the way you wanted at all…

-

“Would you shut up.” You couldn’t help the sharpness of your voice. You were so frustrated, everything getting on your nerves. Joel hadn’t meant to push you buttons but he just was. He was a decent friend, though he could be a better one to some people, to his family. He looked up from where he was tethering his horse to the post outside the barn. His gruff, no nonsense attitude getting on your nerves all throughout the day despite normally being able to work with the man. His offhand remark about needing to get home soon and the way he nearly rushed ahead of you with his horse finally being the last straw. As if he was the only one who had shit to do with the rest of his day.

He looked up from the worn leather in his hands to see you tying off your own horse before going over to the woman who watched over the horses with measured steps. He wasn’t sure what he said to illicit such words from you but he didn’t let them get to him, he could ignore you just as you had ignored him most of the day. It was a mutual clashing of gruff nature that happened from time to time.

The woman was listening to you talk about how you were worried about Peaches having stumbled over some rocks in the river you passed over on your patrol, suddenly nice and friendly after being surly and quiet the entire route. The woman was watching the way you brushed your hand over the neck of the horse, running your fingers through the mane to work out the tangles.

Joel took in the way your hands lingered over hers when she offered you a brush to work the bigger knots out. The bloom of color on the woman’s face had him looking to your face where a small, knowing smile had graced your lips. You leaned closer to her, bringing her had with the brush to where your other one was tangled in the horses mane, “There’s some tension right about….here.”

Joel was mesmerized by the way you were interacting with her, he had never seen you so forward. The flustered giggle from the woman who had your attention that sounded in the air was a good enough sign to shove off. The heat in your eyes another as he glanced at you one last time was another. He was struck by the way his mind supplied the word beautiful as he took in the way you filled out your tight jeans and simple white tank top, allowing for your tan to be seen by anyone around. Your hair was mused from beneath that damn wide brimmed hat you wore to keep the sun out of your face on patrol, the deep green of it looking good paired with your long curls pulled into a braid.

He walked off, trying not to let his gaze rove over you in a way that could be described as lingering.

A few hours later, after his shower and a small nap, as he sat on his porch with a cup of coffee. He was enjoying the quiet of the waning day, the sun beginning its descent toward the horizon when your front door opened just a few yards away. The woman from the stables lingered on the porch, her hands in her pockets as she spoke in a hushed tone. You were barely visible from his vantage, though he could see an arm leaning against the frame of the door and your long locks loose as you nodded before saying something that had the other girl blushing bright red before leaving. Once she was down the street and out of view you moved to sit in one of the chairs you had out on the porch.

You ran your hands roughly down your face, a deep sigh falling from your lips. You knew you should go back inside and put proper clothes on if you were going to be out here, anyone could walk by and see you in your sleep shorts and the bralette you had worn underneath your tank top earlier. Bruises from the day littered your skin, two newer ones blossomed red on your collarbone: a telltale sign of how you spent your afternoon.

You had managed to make sure one of you had a good time, the girl too inexperienced to return the favor. But she had been such a pretty little mess begging for your touch that it hadn’t been a complete failure. The pleasure from spending a few hours in bed with the woman simmered just beneath your skin, the breeze sweeping through the valley Jackson resided in bringing goosebumps out on your limbs.

You felt eyes on your form, and you turned to look at the house to your left, the one on the right had yet to be assigned to anyone. And of course, it was Joel Miller out on his porch, staring right at you. His hair was tousled from sleep, a lax air about him as he seemed to still be getting his bearings after his slumber.

He was in a t-shirt and sweatpants, the shirt trying its best to contain his arms as he cradled a steaming mug in his large hands. Not breaking eye contact, he brought the mug up to take a sip, his lips curling over the porcelain and catching your eye. You watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he lowered the mug to rest on a knee, his tongue peaking out to catch an errant drop of whatever he was drinking.

Before you could even register it, you were up out of your chair and making your way down the three steps to your porch. A bare foot had just stepped into the grass when the small figure of Ellie popped through the front door, a holler about dinner being ready loud from her as she brandished a wooden spoon at Joel. He tore his eyes from you, all his attention focused on his daughter as he stood.

Your eyes watched as he did so, the sweatpants doing either the devil or god’s work you weren’t sure. The thick fabric made his figure look broad, his thighs strong as he stood, the waistband was low on his hips. But it was the unmistakable bulge you had seen as he stood up that had made your mouth go dry and your skin buzz. With an embarrassed huff you turned on your heel and ran back into the safety of your house.

You could not believe you had just been about to jump Joel Miller. The man had been minding his own business on his own porch. In broad daylight. You needed to handle this, it was getting out of hand.

“Do you mind giving Joel a hand today? He needs-“ Tommy approached your spot in the dining hall, mug of steaming coffee in his hand and a loaded plate that he placed beside you.

“I do.” You cut off the chipper looking younger Miller man, not meaning to sound so mean towards him.

“Uh, well, I can’t help him today and-“

“Tommy, I can’t work with him today. You had me with him on patrol yesterday.”

“Did y’all get into a fight or somethin’? You’re normally so willing to help around where it’s needed and you two get along better than most.” He set down the fork he was using to eat with beside his plate before giving you his full, concerned attention. It was breakfast time in the dining hall, you had just walked in to get a couple fruits before disappearing for the day but had decided to sit at the absence of a particular older man.

“Just need the day to myself.”

“….everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’ve just been…a little short with everyone lately.”

“Everything’s fine.” You stood abruptly as you spied a broad figure making its way to you and Tommy, not even thinking about how you hadn’t even touched your own plate yet. You scrambled over the bench seat and took off out the door before Joel even set his plate down on the other side of the table.

“Well, alright then.” He huffed as he settled in for his meal.

“What’d you do?”

“What the hell are you goin’ on about? I didn’t do a damn thing to that woman.”

Tommy watched his brother over his mug, bringing it up to take a sip from it. He watched the way Joel turned to watch your form disappear through the front door. Brows furrowed and a frown settling in place.

“She didn’t even let me finish asking her to help you out today before she was sayin’ no and then she saw you comin’ this way and took off. Something happen on patrol?”

“She was huffin’ and puffin’ all day but seemed fine once we were back in town. Chatted up the girl at the stables just fine.”

Tommy took a bite of his food, pensive. Joel stabbed his fork into his own food, it was way too early in the day to be dealing with whatever was going on you.

Neither brother saw you for a few days. You had traded the rest of the week’s patrols you’d been assigned in exchange for the coffee you hoarded in your cabinet. People willing to make the trade even if you didn’t give them reason as to why. You had holed up in your room, taken root in your bed and just wallowed. You were fully aware of how pathetic the whole situation was. But you couldn’t face Joel or the nice girl, Stella, from the stables.

The patrol this morning was early, early enough to avoid one of the people you were avoiding. Unfortunately, the trek to Teton village was one that select people were allotted. It was an overnight one, the longest and one of the most dangerous. You and Joel being the only people without time restrictions due to other responsibilities around the town. You were just finishing up saddling up the two horses and led them outside as Joel approached. As he made his way down the street, you mounted up, ready to get the day started. If he was surprised to see you or that you had done up his horse for him, he didn’t show it as he took the reigns you held out to him.

He nodded at you, his fingers brushing up against your own as he did so. You pulled your hand back as if you had been burned and clicked to get your horse moving.

“Hey, just wanted to check in with ya,” Joel looked over his shoulder toward you, your horse was trailing behind his. The morning was quiet, the sun had risen completely and the forest was quiet. “Normally you’ve gone on about somethin’ or other by now but you’ve been sulking. Somethin’ wrong?”

“Just don’t feel good.” Was your gruff answer, unwilling to entertain conversation. You didn’t know why he was so concerned, somedays it was just like this. Either he had too much on his mind or you did and there was an understanding about it. You didn’t expect him to direct his horse to stop, making you do the same. He turned a bit more to face you in his saddle, brows furrowed in worry. His big brown eyes held a little too much emotion as he gazed at you. Your body deciding to take whatever it could from him, and you felt yourself get slick at his attention.

“You can tell me what it is, maybe I can-“

“It’s girl stuff, leave me alone.” You clicked to signal your horse into movement, going around him and continuing on your way. You shifted in the saddle, the friction of the seam of your jeans making you feel a little crazed and you tried to adjust.

The rest of the ride up to the cabin had been going okay… until a group of four raiders has decided to ambush you and Joel. It had been a quiet moment, just trekking through the woods when a shot rang out and your horse began bucking. You had tried to keep balance, but the creature was hurt and panicked. When you had tried to climb down you had been tossed a bit. You hadn’t been off the horse for a second before two men had come out from the trees and grabbed you, two more going for Joel on his horse. You had tried not to scream, but you were positive terror had taken over you as their hands had gripped you in places they had no business touching under the guise of retraining you.

He had killed every one of them, in such a quick and efficient way. His chest had been heaving with his actions, arms roped in veins where you could see the skin of his forearms, his hands clutched tight over the handle of a blade and a gun. His hair had gotten wild, waves that would surely turn into curls if it were longer in disarray from someone trying to choke him out. There was blood splatter along his neck and up on his cheek and you practically flinched when he placed the weapons back where they belonged on his person and leaned down a bit to reach a hand to you.

“Don’t- don’t touch me.” You stuttered as you backed up, palms up to keep him at bay. You were past anger and frustration, it was only ever going to get you so far. You were feeling desperation crawl like ice through your veins. The only thing that would bring warmth back to you was his touch, but it would light a fire in you that you weren’t sure you were strong enough to fight off.

“What are you goin’ on about? You afraid of me now?” He stayed where he was but brought his hand back to rest on his hip. “You seen me in action before.”

Maybe it was the way his eyes were dark in the shade of the tree canopy or the thrill of having taken out a threat. Maybe it was the way he always looked so goddamn good up on a horse, his thick thighs looking strong and sturdy as he guided the animal across the terrain. Maybe it was the way he was standing, one leg slightly popped out, hands on his hips and head canted down to gaze at you, an eyebrow raised in a slightly teasing manner.

Maybe it was the way you were on the ground, hands holding you up as your legs were spread out before you from your fall. Chest pushed out slightly from your shoulders holding you up, heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You felt desire hot in your entire body as you stared up at his broad form, his shadow falling over you. You licked your lips and were about to tell him off again but something flared in his eyes and-

“I’m not afraid of you, I wanna fuck you!” The words rushed out of your mouth before you could even think.

Joel didn’t say anything, he just continued to stare at you. You were sure your face was flushed a deep crimson; it was certainly burning enough to be. Your skin was alight, your entire body humming as the words had crawled their way from where they had dug themselves deep in your middle, had been consuming you from the inside out. They had been fleeting before but decided to make you their new home and filled every nook and cranny of your body, not giving you a moment of rest since they had solidified. You don’t know how long they had been forming but you didn’t really want to find out how long they had been whispering over your skin, your mind.

When he finally moved, you flinched. Even though he walked away from you and mounted his horse, your body pressed further into the dirt. He didn’t so much as glance at you as he guided his horse back the way you had just come, abandoning the rest of the patrol as he headed back toward town.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” Tommy’s voice was booming as the man descended from where he had been keeping watch atop the gate as you entered through back into the safety of town. “I’ve been waiting for you all fuckin’ day since my dumbass brother got back! He made it seem like the raiders got you.”

You were quiet, gently walking beside the injured horse and guiding it back to the stables. You felt completely rejected. You had been left on the fucking ground after being ambushed. Injured in more ways that just physical, you ignored the frantic panic of the man following after you, demanding answers from you. And you knew it was petty, you knew it was unprofessional, but you couldn’t help it. You were shutting down, back to how you had been when you first arrived. It was better to be alone. You’d learned your lesson.

“Are you gonna answer me? You both broke protocol and scared the shit out of everyone! Please just say something, anything!”

“Finished patrol. Ran into raiders two miles from the cabin. Your brother got injured and turned back. I cleared the cabin, there were a few infected. Took longer traveling because Peaches is injured. I’ll fill out a report.”

“He said you got thrown off your horse and they dragged you away. Said he tried everything but had to come back.”

“If that’s what he said happened, then that’s what happened.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your brother is a piece of fucking work, do not put me with him again. So help me, I’ll pack up and leave if you make me work with him in any capacity from here on out.”

You could tell your harsh words stunned him; he had stopped in his efforts to follow your gaited movements. You continued on to the stables. You explained in clipped words to Stella what had happened to Peaches, ignoring the way her eyes were lingering on you and her hands kept brushing against your own.

You stalked away from the interaction, legs heavy and your entire back hurting from where you had landed after your sudden dismount. You could tell your whole left side was already bruised, scrapes having bled into the fabric of your flannel and stained it for anyone to see. You pulled your hat lower over your brow when you spotted an all too familiar figure on the porch of the house next to yours.

You felt a heavy gaze follow you as you passed the house and made it up the short walkway to your porch. Your foot faltered as you picked it up to ascend the few steps leading up to your own porch and front door. Your foot didn’t land, the front of your boot collided with the step and your body fell forward.

You couldn’t help the pained yelp that pushed itself from your throat as your back pulled from the effort to throw your hands out to catch yourself.

You don’t know how he managed to close the distance so quickly or why, but Joel was suddenly hovering over you, hands helping to hold you up. His fingers were spread wide to not put too much pressure on any one spot, he had seen the blood and dirt marring you the second the commotion had stopped earlier on the trail.

“Leave me alone.” You pushed his hands from you, ignoring the way they sparked electricity on your skin over where they rested on your shirt. You stood back up, leaning heavily on the railing and practically pulled yourself up the steps.

“Look-“

“I said leave me alone. You made it clear how you feel when you left me on the fucking trail.” You moved as fast as your body would allow you up the steps and through the front door. You slammed it in the pinched face of one Joel Miller without a second thought. You leaned back on it, chest heaving as you realized tears had sprung up once again. A sob wracked your body and you brought your hands up to cover your mouth as more followed.

You didn’t just want him to fuck you. You wanted him.

You were put on different patrol rotations, Tommy taking the longer and more difficult routes you had fallen into with his older brother again. You were paired with younger people, those who were new to patrol, or had less experience and needed to be with someone who could make better decisions. It was easy to go into training mode and give them the run down, tell them the way things need to be done and why. It didn’t give you time or energy to think about anything else. That happened when you were safely back at home in the confines of your room.

Stella, bless her heart, still lingered when it came to you, her smiles quick and her voice chipper. But you just returned her attention with polite smiles and tips of your hat. It was late, the sun dipping down below the horizon as you closed off Peaches pen, who had made a full recovery from a few weeks ago.

While a sigh, you directed your route toward the center of town. You hadn’t been out in weeks, opting to keep to yourself if you weren’t on patrol. The help you had been lending to the Miller brothers and their building had ceased. Neither of them had confronted you, Maria had dropped by a few times to check on you. You had been cordial, offering her coffee it was the morning or dinner if it was the evening. She seemed content to just share the space with you, taking what you could give even if you were quiet or only made small talk concerning those you were training.

A drink sounded nice tonight, maybe a meal you hadn’t made yourself.

An hour later you were pleasantly tipsy and dancing in the arms of one of the younger patrolmen. He had nervously asked if you could teach him some steps to impress the girl he had his eye on and the alcohol in your system had you saying yes before you could think better of it.

A few songs later and you were pulling Stella from where she was at a table with her friends up into your arms and guiding her through some faster steps. She was all giddy laughter, bright smiles, and wandering hands. You leaned in close and murmured apologies to her and asked if she was okay with just being friends, genuinely apologetic for how you had been treating her. With a parting kiss to her cheek, you set her back with her friends and took off toward the door.

You settled on the bench that was a little ways from the door and pulled a rolled cigarette from where it was tucked into the ribbon that wound around the base of your hat. You lit it and took a long drag, unaware of the door opening behind you. You were so lost in thought that you nearly jumped out of your skin when someone plopped down beside you, their knee knocking into your own.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Nah, just me. But you’d think I’d be the devil with the way you been ignoring me”

No. No no no. Not that voice, that deliciously low southern drawl. The cigarette fell from between your fingers, landing on your thigh to burn a hole through the denim and smart your skin.

“Fuck!” You scrambled up, brushing frantically at the singed fabric to get the heat out. The liquor decided at that precise moment to take you over from pleasantly tipsy to uncoordinated tipsy and you stumbled over your feet. You landed hard on your ass, hat falling to the dirt beside you. When you looked up, Joel Miller was staring at you with an amused smile. It was a soft look on him, his eyes glittering in the lights hung up around the square as he looked down from where he remained on the bench.

Embarrassment flared hot over your face, the scene too close to the last time you had really interacted with the man. But this time he wasn’t borderline glaring at you. He was casual, relaxed, surely he was tipsy too. To be interacting with you, to be so easy going with you. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, if he hadn’t been tucking tail to run at the sight of you, you were doing so when you noticed him.

“I’ll walk you home, was callin’ it a night anyway.” He seemed to temper for a moment, brow furrowing as he contemplated his next words. “My entertainment for the night decided it was time for the show to end.”

Your waning flush darkened again, at the insinuation that he had been watching you dance the whole night. You don’t know what compelled you to take his hand when he offered it to you this time, as he stood from the bench and leaned over your still fallen form.

Maybe it was the way he was trying, the way he was talking as if nothing had happened, that you hadn’t totally ruined the tolerance boarding on friendly acquaintance you both had found in each other since day one. Maybe it was the way he picked up your hat and placed it gently back on your head, because he knew how important it was to you. Or the way that his hand was so warm as it clasped over your own.

Maybe it was the way that this is how things went with you, someone did something stupid or fucked up in the heat of the moment and it wasn’t talked about after some time and things went back to being okay.

Maybe it was in the way it seemed he almost missed you, or the way that you certainly had missed him.

“Stubborn girl, let me help you.” His voice had turned husky as he closed you in between his broad chest and the door. His warm hands came up and wrapped around your trembling ones, taking the keys from you with ease. He leaned forward a bit more, his hips connecting with your backside as he unlocked the door. He didn’t turn the knob or go to push it open, just breathing in the scent of honey and vanilla that mingled with the twang of whiskey on your skin.

“It didn’t bother me, what you said.” He seemed hesitant to bring the event of all those weeks ago from the middle of summer to the present. It wasn’t how either of you dealt with things, opting to push things deep down and ignore them until they didn’t really matter in the face of everyday issues. His hands were clenching in a pattern at his sides, his tick for when he was nervous. “For the record.”

“Figured you didn’t want me around because it did bother you, that way you didn’t have to deal with me anymore. You made it clear you don’t feel any way about me.”

“Is that why you been ignorin’ me?” Joel’s smoldering gaze watched as you lifted the hat to rest on a hook by the door, there was something behind his eyes you couldn’t quit make out when you turned back around to face him. “Because that’s not the case and you know it. You’re one of the only people in this town that doesn’t make me feel pushed or pressured to be anything. You let me just be me, even if I’m not the best a lot of the time.”

“Leave me alone,” The same last words you had spit at him all those weeks ago fell from your lips again unbidden. You weren’t even sure if you meant them anymore. But if you repeated them, maybe he would realize you meant the opposite. You didn’t intend for your voice to lilt the way that it did but of course he caught onto it. The way you didn’t deny anything he just confessed to you. It made him feel a little brave, it made him take a step closer to you. You mirrored his movement, your body crowding the back of the couch.

“You weren’t the only one with who was frustrated, darlin’. Had to see you take that poor girl to bed only to get nothin’ out of it.”

A weird whine sounded from you as his words brought the frustration of not being to find release for weeks now back to the forefront of your mind. Your skin buzzing with the intention behind his words.

Maybe it was the liquor in his system or the liquor in yours, but the room became charged almost as if a switch had been flipped now that you both understood the other. Your eyes dilated at the move he had taken toward you, your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip. He took another step and felt himself harden completely in his jeans as his nerves lit up. You weren’t really telling him to leave, and he really wanted to find out what you tasted like after all this time.

“Well would you look at that, you went from all riled up to whinin’ in two seconds flat.”

“Shu-shut up!”

“Oh darlin’, you’re all bark and no bite right now.” To emphasize his point he leaned over you and placed his hands atop the back of the couch, caging your body between him and the piece of furniture. You didn’t move an inch, every muscle in your body locked up as the heat of him standing so close. The smell of him so close. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you were sure he could hear it in the quiet of your living room if the soft grin on his face was any indication.

Your eyes were trained on his own, the taunting glint you saw had you moving before you even realized.

Your hands shot out to grip the lapels of his damned, snug denim shirt and you pulled him down enough to sink your teeth underneath his jawline. He let out a guttural moan as his hands flew to grip the flare of your hips tight, body pressing into yours and pinning you to the back of the couch from the waist down. You soothed the bite with the flat of your tongue before moving sucking kisses down the column of his throat. Your hands released the hold they had on the lapels of his shirt, moving lower to rip open the snap buttons on his shirt to expose the top of his chest.

He didn’t give you the chance to explore as he took your hands in his own and guided them to feel the hard length of him through his jeans.

“This what you wanted, what had you so goddamn irritable all those weeks before?” He taunted in your ear, his warm breath on the side of your neck sending shivers down your spine. He twitched underneath your hands, and you felt your underwear dampen even more.

You could only nod as you captured his lips with your own in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue tasted of whiskey as he licked into your mouth. Your hands quickly relieved him of his belt, the clinking of it drowned out by the heavy breaths…

“F-uck…you’re takin’ me so well,” He used the momentum of resting his forearms down by your head to grind his hips into you. The head of his cock sent a cascade of white pleasure over you as it stimulated your g-spot.  

“’m close, Joel, please.” You begged, you begged for the release that was so close, that was coiled so tight in your middle it was bringing tears to the corners of your eyes. He continued to grind into you, his lips coming to press sucking kisses along your collarbone. He bit down hard and it sent you over the edge as the pain sparked low in your core. Your muscles tensed, you could feel yourself clenching him tightly where he moved inside you, working you through your orgasm. A stuttered sound rumbled deep in his chest as his grinding turned into fast, hard thrusts.

He hauled you up, bringing your blissed out form flush against his chest as he sat up on his knees. You whimpered as you felt another orgasm build at an alarming rate. You clenched your knees around his waist and moved down against him, chasing it as he continued to chase his own. His hands were on your hips almost painfully tight, where he helped to pull you down as he thrust up into you. The sound of skin on skin was loud in the room, the bed frame creaking as you both took what you needed from each other.

“C’mon, give me another, sweet girl,” He curled his arms underneath your armpits to rest his palms on your shoulders and used them to bring your hips down to meet his with even more delicious friction.

“Haah, Joel, I- I can’t.” You dug your nails into his own shoulders, pulling a growl from him as the feeling went straight to his cock buried deep inside you.

“You were so desperate for it for so long, yes you can, give it to me sweet girl,” He snaked a hand down to rub two fingers over your clit in small circles. You choked on a moan that ripped from your throat as white spots danced across your vision. The clench of your third orgasm milking Joel’s out of him. His hips stuttered as hot ropes of his release filled you up, some of it dribbling down his length where it began to leak out of you. 

He moaned at the sight, resting his forehead against yours as you both panted.

An alarm blaring had you beginning to stir, the sheets tangling around you as you twisted to reach for the clock on the bedside table. When you flopped back on the bed facing away from it, your bleary eyes feel on the already awake form of Joel. His eyes were serious as he watched you settle back into the bed. He almost looked wrecked and that had you shooting up on your arms and moving as close to him as possible.

“What’s wrong?” You brought your hands to cradle his face, fingers brushing underneath his conflicted eyes.

“You were still on the ground and I just… I just fuckin’ left you there without a word.”

You felt your chest thud at the pain of the memory, the one that plagued your restless nights as summer had droned on and waned. It had faded to a facet of life, something that had once happened. Sometimes it was heavier than others.

“…it wasn’t the best reaction.”

“That’s one of the worst things I’ve done since comin’ here.” He confessed into the crook of your neck where he had buried his head. You just tightened your arms around him, comforting him as he worked through it. His voice cracked on his next words. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, I’ll carry that with me until I die.”

You both laid there, wrapped up in each other and whispered words of apology to each other. For the things you’ve done to each other to the things that have happened to each other. Comfort turned into promises and promises turned into kisses.

After getting showered and dressed, you walked to the stables together. Sharing a thermos of hot coffee, the steam rising to keep your faces warm in the face of approaching autumn. You were mid laugh when Joel raised his hands to cradle your face and pepper kisses over your face, stopping right there in the middle of the street in the early morning. Chuckles in between kisses had your heart racing in your chest.

When you both rounded the side of the stables there were already two horses saddled and a waiting Tommy at the gate to the outside pen beside it. He crossed his arms and walked passed you two with a simple, “Y’all are fuckin’ idiots. You know that?”

[lovemyavatar]

May I request a Jake Sully x reader where she’s also involved in the Avatar program somehow? And Jake is convinced she’d like him better as an avatar when really, she just likes him period!! I feel like human Jake doesn’t get enough love round these parts (the avatar fandom) lol

this is my first ever full length Jake fic! I loved this idea and hope you enjoy :)

All of You

Human/Avatar!Jake Sully x Human/Avatar!Reader

Warnings: slight angst but mostly fluff, some smooching

“That was so cool!”

You practically throw yourself from your link unit, shoving the door open and tumbling out hastily. A wide grin splits your face as the unit beside yours pops open, revealing a chuckling Jake who merely shakes his head in amusement.

“Seriously, did you see that shot I landed?” You bounce on your toes excitedly, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Your body hasn't caught up yet, doesn't realize you're no longer surrounded by dense forest, riding pa'li (direhorses) and firing arrows from handmade bows. Your heart thrums wildly between your ribs, pride swelling within your chest as you replay the day's events.

Nearly every day for the last several months has been dedicated to learning the ways of the Omatikaya clan. You’ve done things that so recently felt impossible, accomplished feats beyond your wildest dreams. It’s overtaken your life, blurred the lines between realities. At this point, you feel more like yourself when you’re in the Avatar, than when you’re just you.

It’s awe-inspiring and terrifying all at once. Getting lost in the breathtaking terrain of Pandora is easier than you anticipated. Hours pass within the blink of an eye when you're exploring the moon, almost like the whole thing is nothing but a fantasy.

When you're back at the lab, the world out there feels too good to be true. Whispers of self-doubt flood the back of your mind, convincing you that there's someone better, someone more worthy of experiencing such beauty. But the second your Avatar's eyes open, and you begin another day of exploration, everything feels right again.

Throughout the turbulent ebbs and flows of the program, the only constant, the single force keeping you sane, has been Jake.

You catch the way his eyes leave you, flicking downward before settling on his withered legs. A rough sigh falls from his lips, shoulders sagging as if, though only for a moment, he forgot his own limitations. Instinctively, you take a small step forward, arms outstretched.

You know he’s more than capable, know how he feels about people helping him, but it’s simply a reaction to the forlorn expression etched into his face. It has nothing to do with his ability, and everything to do with the fact that you can’t stand to see him upset.

One of his palms blocks your path, narrowed eyes cutting toward you harshly.

“I got it.” The words are clipped as he forces them through a tightly clenched jaw.

You’re quick to move back, spine rigid as remorse floods your chest. The last thing you want to do is make the transition harder for him, or give the impression that you doubt his ability. His attention gradually falls back to his legs, fingers griping the rough material of his jeans.

You nod curtly before briskly walking away, stomach twisting with unease. His gaze snaps toward your retreating back, lips pursing to contain a sigh of disappointment.

He's an idiot. A complete dufus because he can't fight the urge, the overwhelming knee-jerk reaction to push you away when he's like this. It's a challenge he never considered having to face, wrestling with another version of himself that's everything he's ever wanted.

Out there, in the forest, his body excels at things he's long resigned himself to never doing again. He can run, leap, climb like the adventurous child trapped within him has always begged to do.

But here? Here he’s just…human.

For the entirety of his adult life, he's struggled to make friends. The problem was only exacerbated after his accident, when he became closed off and callous to the world outside his own struggle.

It's been glaringly obvious from the beginning that he's nothing like the other Avatar program participants. He never wanted to be here. Not really. But what did he have to lose? His twin was already gone, legs rendered useless, and his life was going nowhere fast.

But then there was you. You, who—for reasons unfathomable to Jake—accepted him right away. No questions asked. From day one, the two of you flocked together like long lost buddies who hadn’t seen each other in years.

As the days tick by, your unlikely friendship has blossomed into full-blown co-dependency. Early on, the two of you requested a shared desk, opting to complete debriefings together more often than not. Your supervisors don't usually mind, since your structured nature reigns in Jake's tendency to wander.

You're glued to each other's sides almost every waking hour, whether in the Avatars or not. It just comes naturally, finding comfort in the solid presence of one another, especially when dropped in the unfamiliar environment of Pandora.

The clan has no qualms about your desire to stay together, and readily agreed to teach you their ways as a pair. It's enriched the experience, and led to both of your success in the program. Jake's heart flutters, a warmth blooming in his chest at the mere memory of your days spent together under the Pandoran sun.

But with every shared smile or lingering glance comes a wave of confusion at the inevitable switch in his demeanor once he re-enters his human body. You're accustomed to it by now, have come to expect it, but that doesn't lessen the sting of his dismissal.

He can't help the way he curls in on himself, can't even entertain the idea that you may adore him just as fiercely in this form. It makes him cold, abrasive despite the way his heart clenches every time your face pinches with hurt.

Stillness has settled over the lab, the rhythmic droll of typing the only interruption in the otherwise quiet workspace.

Your fingers pause over the keyboard in front of you, gaze wavering from the computer monitor for a brief moment. Just long enough to catch the beginning of a cheeky grin pointed in your direction. You quickly divert your eyes once again, using every ounce of self-control to ignore the distraction only inches away.

Just as your lips part to continue the day's video log, something hard smacks against the back of your hand. You freeze, glancing down to spot a wadded up piece of paper laying on your desk.

“Can I help you?” You lean to the side, keeping your voice low as to not disturb those working diligently on either side of your desk.

“I’m bored.” Jake whispers in return, leaning forward to rest his chin on his crossed arms.

Your stomach flips when he looks up at you, rounded eyes blinking innocently. His lips tug into a small, hopeful smile. A sigh fills the few feet between your side of the desk and his.

“That's because you're not working.” Your gaze flicks over the room before you dip forward to meet him halfway.

“Let’s get outta here.” His eyes dance with mischief, while yours pop wide at the suggestion.

“Jake…” His name is nothing more than a weak protest, because truthfully, you would love to avoid the remaining tasks piling up in your inbox.

Even so, using the Avatars outside of approved hours is strictly forbidden. He knows this, of course, but he's been antsy since returning that morning. He's losing his mind a bit, just sitting here reminiscing about all the ways his body is so much more out there.

A twinge of regret still weighs heavily in his chest from the way he snapped at you. He wants things to feel normal again. A piece of his soul aches to be back in the dream-like world of Pandora with you, where no real life bullshit can get in the way.

“I won’t tell if you don't.” His lips stretch into that dazzling, heart-stopping grin, and you're done for.

Sometimes, you can't help but wonder if he's aware of the effect he has on you. The way even a simple glance lights you up, makes your stomach flip as warmth blankets your skin.

He can't, can he? Otherwise he wouldn't be so hot and cold. Wouldn't make you think there could be something to the tension between you when you're in the Avatars, only to pull back the second you return to the lab.

Right?

A giggle bubbles in your chest, gaze flicking over your shoulder as a light touch caresses the tuft of hair at the base of your tail.

“Come on, I thought you were faster than that!”

The sore muscles of your legs protest as you pivot suddenly, hurriedly climbing the nearest tree for safety. You only make it a few feet before strong arms wrap around your middle, effortlessly peeling your weak grip from the rough bark.

Another laugh echoes through the quiet forest as Jake spins you around, pressing your back against the tree. Your chest heaves from the chase, ragged breath fanning his face as he crowds you. One of his hands rests above your head, the other firmly cupping your hip.

The innocent touch sets you ablaze, makes something warm pool in your lower belly. His lips pull into a lopsided grin, golden eyes searing a hole straight through you.

“Gotcha.” His heated gaze flickers over your face, lingering on your lips for just a moment too long before he forces it back to your eyes. “Again.”

“Alright, this time, you run.” Your palm meets his chest, with every intention of pushing him away, but the second his warmth seeps into you, you're frozen in place.

Your fingers twitch against his skin, eyelids growing heavy as you glance over the swell of muscle beneath your hand. He takes a slow breath in, terrified that you can feel the way his heart pounds between his ribs.

“I don't think that'd be very fair.” He rasps lowly, not trusting himself to speak any louder.

Your eyes raise slowly to meet his, breath hitching at the sweltering desire already locked firmly on you. His free hand leaves its resting place above your head, tentatively dropping until his fingers curl around the side of your neck. A shiver rolls down your spine when his tail gingerly wraps around your thigh, bringing you even closer.

You lean into the touch, eyes fluttering as your lips part in anticipation. His thumb hooks beneath your jaw, gently tilting your face upward as he slowly leans in.

Your stomach dips, heart racing when his nose brushes yours, dragging along your skin for several long moments. Ragged breath mingles as both of you simply enjoy the newfound proximity. Your eyes close, mouth bracing for impact, until a sudden realization strikes you.

“Wait!” Your hand pushes against his chest, eyes popping wide as anxiety grips you.

Jake rears back, spine instantly rigid at the change of pace. He blinks down at you, utterly confused, searching your face for a sign that he did something wrong.

“We should—um...we should get back.” Your voice wobbles slightly with the declaration, chest tightening at the sight of him deflating before you.

Dread fills him, regret nearly splitting him in two as his heart clatters into his stomach. His mind races, wondering how he could've possibly misinterpreted the signals you were so clearly giving him. His hands and tail leave you, a dumbfounded nod the only response he's capable of at the moment.

You're quick to scurry away, chin tucked into your chest, tail lowered between your legs as you make a hasty exit. All he can do is stand there, watching you disappear through thick foliage, unsure what just happened. Fear prickles against his skin, panicked thoughts of your friendship being ruined plaguing him the entire journey back.

Much like that morning, you rush from the link pod the moment your consciousness reenters your body. Your feet hit the ground before Jake's pod is even open, but it doesn't stop you from crossing the small distance quickly. You wait with baited breath for him to emerge, heart threatening to give out at any moment.

He's surprised to see you waiting for him, avoids your eager gaze as his stomach turns at the memory of his earlier humiliation. He wants nothing more than to wheel his sorry ass to bed, and stay there for several days.

“Well...I’ll see you tomorrow.” He mumbles when he's safely in his chair, unable to leave you with nothing, though his eyes remain locked on the floor.

“Jake.” His traitorous arms stop the instant you call out to him, his already battered heart leaping hopefully.

You round his hunched form quickly, leaning down in an effort to catch his eyes, He still won't look at you, glancing at anything and everything to avoid the source of his turmoil.

“There's just one thing...”

Your fingertips hook under his chin, forcing his face toward you. Without allowing time for doubt, you duck down, capturing his lips with yours. His eyes pop open, brows raising in shock. He's only stunned for a split second before his hands leave the wheels of his chair, instead cupping both sides of your face tenderly.

Your mouths move together feverishly, months of pent up desire releasing through the passionate kiss. He groans into you, the low rumble landing firmly between your legs. His tongue prods against the seam of your lips, quickly taking control of the situation as his large hands pull you in.

Suddenly, he leans back, leaving just enough space between you to catch his breath.

“Trust me, I’m enjoying every second of this, but I thought…” His nose brushes along yours, eyes fluttering open to search yours.

Warmth blankets your cheeks, a coy smile pulling at your lips as you gaze down at him with every ounce of adoration you've been containing since the day you met.

“I didn’t want our first kiss to be in the Avatars.” Your murmur quietly, hands falling to his wrists, fingers curling around the steady hold on your face. “I want you, Jake Sully. The blue guy is just a bonus.”

A huge, boyish grin splits his face, matching your expression. Your admission washes over him, a pleasurable shiver rolling down his spine. Within seconds you're thrown off balance, a surprised yelp leaving you as he sweeps your feet from the floor, easily settling you onto his lap.

Your giggle is swallowed as his lips claim yours again. One of his hands leaves you, wheeling you toward his quarters blindly as he all but devours you, pure joy igniting in his chest.

@fanboyluvr @minjix @daeneeryss @aonungsmate @glimmering-darling-dolly

[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anni req 20: [SPIDERKID] brothers / the exchange student's a spider!

ao3 link

note: requested by @.whensam! i'm so sorry i misremembered the details of the prompt when i wrote this, so rather than just the spidey sense this is the brothers finding out that she has the spider powers at all ^^; hopefully this is still alright! (this is in the spiderkid-comes-to-devildom version of the au!)

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

“You knew?”

“You didn’t?”

“Can you guys stop fighting?”

Mammon whirls around and points at IK. “You keep your mouth shut! This is between us, understand?!”

“Yeah, but you’re in my room,” She says mildly. “If you’re not gonna stop, could you leave?”

“No! You shot— you have—” He gestures wildly, then finally says, “You make webs.”

“And I walk on walls,” She agrees.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!”

“Well— I didn’t think it mattered. You guys do magic.”

“That’s not the same thing! You’re human! You’re not supposed to do that! How d’you do that?!”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I got bitten by a spider—”

“A spider?” Satan repeats. Now this bit he didn’t know. “Just a spider?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” IK says, “But it was radioactive.”

Mammon all but collapses at IK’s desk, eyes still wide with disbelief. Satan gives him a disapproving look out of the corner of his eye.

After a long silence, Mammon finally asks him, “When’d you find out?”

“I found IK doing stretches on the ceiling."

“And ya didn’t think that was weird?”

“I haven’t met a lot of humans,” Satan says with a shrug. “I assumed it was something demons just hadn’t documented before. Maybe they evolved while we weren’t looking.”

“You don’t see Solomon doing any of that,” Mammon counters weakly.

The three of them sit around in silence for a while. IK clears her throat, then swings her legs off the bed. “...I guess I should make an announcement or something, then…?”

Satan gets put in charge of calling everyone except Lucifer down to the common room. Mammon is allowed to sit and process the entire situation for a little longer while IK herself attempts to coax the eldest out of his office.

To be honest, now that he thinks about it, maybe Satan should have been more alarmed. It’s just that something about the way IK treats the whole situation so nonchalantly that makes him feel like it’s completely normal, too. But, no, humans really shouldn't be doing all that...

“This had better be important,” Lucifer warns IK as he follows her into the common room, where the others are already waiting. “I have work to be doing.”

“It won’t take a second,” IK promises, proceeding to the centre of the room, hands folded politely behind her back. “Sorry, everyone. Can I just start this by saying I’m very grateful for your hospitality—”

“Hurry up,” grumbles Levi. Satan shoots him a warning look.

“—right, okay, sorry—” IK clears her throat. “It’ll probably be easier if I show you. Um, so I can do this.”

She trots over to the wall and plants a foot on it, glancing to the four demons watching her with varying levels of bewilderment (and the one watching with anticipation). Then she puts the other foot on it, too.

Asmo all but screams as IK very rapidly scuttles up the wall, then across the ceiling, and stops next to the chandelier - which is decidedly larger than her. “Oh, ew! What the— how’re you doing that?!”

“Hang on,” IK announces. “That’s not all.”

She sits down (still on the ceiling, and now she looks even smaller), extends an arm, folds down two fingers, and shoots a web onto the wall. Beel leaps about two feet into the air - the web flies within an inch of his shoulder.

“I’ll clean that up after, by the way,” She adds.

The others look downright aghast. Lucifer looks as if he's about to shut down entirely, and Satan amuses himself by watching all of his brother's preconceptions of the human they're housing shatter entirely.

It’s at that point that Mammon finally joins them. His recovery doesn’t last long - he sees IK on the ceiling, then immediately staggers to an armchair, looking shell-shocked all over again.

To be honest, Satan doesn’t think it’s that big a deal. IK’s barely been here a month, which doesn’t seem like enough time to have your entire understanding of someone change too drastically. After all, that’s hardly enough time to understand someone in the first place. They have classmates who can do far more grotesque things.

“What happened?” Lucifer asks, suddenly coming back to life. “Is this someone’s idea of a prank? Did you eat something you shouldn’t have? Did Solomon—”

“Whoa, slow down. No, I just do this.” IK gets up, presses a hand to the ceiling, and then hangs there from the ceiling for a moment, sticking by the tips of her fingers alone. “See? I could show you some cooler tricks, but we’d have to go outside.”

“Are… you sure you’re human?” Beel sounds a little faint.

“Yeah.”

“How do you…?”

“Well, you’re not going to believe this—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Levi springs to his feet. “So you’re— what, you’ve got crawly powers? What?”

“Spider powers,” IK corrects, looking offended.

“What else do you do?”

“Um…” She thinks for a while. “...I spread good vibes? Oh, I can pick up heavy stuff. Really heavy stuff. Maybe every heavy thing ever.”

“So you mean to tell me that you could do this before now?” Lucifer’s doing the face that means he’s doing some extremely heavy mental file overhauling. “This was not mentioned in your application.”

“I dunno what to tell you, I didn’t make an application.” IK replaces her hand with a webshot, then carefully winches herself down from the ceiling to just about eye-level with Lucifer. “Hey, man. Relax. It was supposed to be a secret, anyway. I just figure it doesn’t matter down here, y’know? Cause you can grow horns?”

“Wait, can we go back to the heavy things?” Levi sticks a hand up in the air. The shock has worn off quickly. “How heavy are we talking?”

“I mean, I haven’t tried everything, but I haven’t not been able to pick up anything that’s not cemented down—”

“Try Lucifer,” Satan interjects, all but commanding it.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Okay,” IK says, then grabs him by the shoulder, and lifts him as if he weighs about as much as a grocery bag.

Lucifer struggles only briefly before realising that it’ll make him look even more undignified, and resorts to looking thunderous instead. “Put me DOWN.”

IK shrugs and drops him. Lucifer manages to catch himself as his feet hit the floor, but it’s a close call - close enough that Satan finds it appropriate to point and laugh as if he did fall. Oh, if only he’d been filming.

“Ooh, ooh - try Beel!” Asmo suggests, hand stretched into the air. “Or, wait, can you do two of us at once?!”

“I sure could try,” IK replies, adjusting herself. With one in each hand, and without so much as an ounce of effort, she hoists both Beel and Asmo clean off the ground too.

Beel makes a muffled sound of surprise, but otherwise dangles with an almost docile look on his face - Asmo, on the other hand, shrieks, then dissolves into helpless giggles, kicking giddily at the air. IK looks mightily pleased by the reception of her trick.

“So you’re a hero, right?” Levi asks, awed. “You can’t not be a hero with powers, right? Right?”

IK swings Beel and Asmo around a little, then finally puts them back down. (Asmo looks almost disappointed. Beel looks as if he’s still processing the fact that he got picked up in the first place.) “I guess? There aren’t a lot of bad guys around where I live - I can’t afford to get the bus to the city every day, either. I just help out. Getting dogs out of locked cars and stuff…”

“But you are a hero,” Levi insists, beginning to flush from the excitement of it all.

“Sure, I’m a hero,” IK agrees. “Oh! I did fight a guy once. But that was just because he was a jerk.”

“What did you do?”

“I just picked him up and threw him. I didn’t see where he went…”

“Alright,” Lucifer says at last, giving IK a rather cool look. “You can come down now.”

“Huh? Oh, okay.”

She disconnects her anchoring web and lands neatly on the carpet, then adds as an afterthought, “I’m pretty sure heights don’t hurt me any more, too. I had to jump out a window and—”

“Enough of that,” Lucifer interrupts, and Satan rather wants to punch him. That’s an impulse he’s used to controlling, though, so he forces himself to stick to observing quietly. “Why didn’t you make any of these… abilities apparent? Would I be wrong to assume that you could have simply fought us as soon as Diavolo summoned you to the Devildom?”

“Uh. Probably not?” IK looks a little confused.

“Do you believe you would have won?”

“...maybe? Does that make me sound really full of myself?” She sits next to Mammon (who’s still dumbfound and silent), and shoots him a slightly worried look. “I mean, never mind that. I didn’t fight you, so that’s good, right?”

Lucifer folds his arms and eyes her critically, looking for the fatal flaw in her armour. Personally, Satan thinks he’s giving IK too much credit. She doesn’t seem the type capable of any nefarious or sinister plots.

“Then why didn’t you?” Lucifer asks. “You were teleported into a room full of strangers. You didn’t think to defend yourself?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I have this extra sense that goes off when there’s danger. And it didn’t go off then.”

Levi’s eyes practically shine at this new information. Lucifer, on the other hand, gives IK a look that says that no, he doesn’t believe that.

“That reminds me, though,” She continues. “I had a question for you, if that’s okay.”

“...fine. Go ahead.”

Satan suddenly gets an uneasy feeling. Like a sixth sense of his own that tells him that this human is about to get herself into trouble. Before he can say anything to stop the train powering forward, though—

“There’s a guy in your attic,” IK says. “Did you know that?”

[naffeclipse]

Chapter 14: This Episode Consumes and Consumes and Consumes Part 1

FNAF Cryptid!Sun/Moon x Cryptid Hunter!Y/N (SFW)

Everything is black save for two glowing eyes piercing the darkness. You scream as hands press you deeper into the bed. Thrashing wildly but hardly moving, you push back against the cool chassis hanging above you before the stroke of cold fingers raises goosebumps on your flesh and a soft, raspy voice slips in through your chaos. “It’s okay. It’s alright. You’re safe.” The comforting mantra is seamless and endless.

Word Count: 15,600~ Warnings: Death, violence, blood, injury, gore, dead bodies, anxiety, horror, and nightmares.

A/N: This will be the first in a three-part episode which I am very excited to have you guys read! Apologies for the long delay, this ended up far longer than anticipated but you'll soon see why it got away from me.

Things are a bit tense between you and your dear friend, after a long car drive you decide to part ways for a very special hunt, hike out into the desert, come upon a bloody campsite, and become aware that this is a much greater threat than you were anticipating.

[asnowfern]

Sunshine in Autumn - Part One

Summary: Desperate to prevent the possible loss of her family's happiness, Elain travels back to the past to Autumn, where her sole ally is her mate who has no idea who she is.

A/N: Happy Elucien Week everyone! Written for day 2 prompt - Magic✨ for @elucienweekofficial! This story will be a two parter with the second part uploaded later in the week. Enjoy! A huge huge thank you to @reverie-tales for bouncing off ideas with me and giving me your thoughts on the fic!💕💕💕

Read on AO3 | Part Two

LUCIEN

It happened deep within the sprawling halls of marble and gold. The shock that would have re-acquainted Lucien with the ground if he hadn't already been sitting. 

The bond had laid dormant for so long that he barely thought about it anymore. A constant presence that no longer bothered him as a lingering reminder. Especially when Elain got increasingly better at shielding herself from him.

To suddenly feel that spike of fear before it winked into nothingness. A black hole taking the place of the warm thrumming light, brighter than anything in Day. Its absence was jarring and unsettling. 

Lucien winnowed to just outside the entrance of Hewn City, his heart thundering in his ears. What he was doing broke so many inter-Court etiquette but he couldn't give a fuck about it right now. Not when his mind spewed out a dozen scenarios at him, each getting worse than the other. 

The doors swung open dramatically as he strode in towards the High Lord and High Lady, all eyes of the hall landed on him. The nerve of him, their sharp gaze scolded angrily. 

Lucien almost paused. Not because of them but because of the rising panic when his eyes failed to locate his mate.

"Where's Elain?" He demanded, the irate protests of the inner Court amplified the pounding in his ears until Lucien gave into instincts and bellowed out, "I can't feel her anymore so someone better tell me where the hell she is!"

Feyre gave a bewildered look from her seat before recovering quickly to adopt a more inquisitive expression, "Lucien, we weren't expecting you. Elain is-" she trailed off, seemingly noticing for the first time then her sister wasn't there.

Lucien felt his indignation rising to meet his anxiety. They didn't even notice she was gone. He exhaled sharply to quell it.

"The basement," the shadowsinger said quietly, a slither of shadow wrapped around his arm as his voice drifted over, easily slicing through the heavy silence that fell over the group. 

Lucien followed Feyre, who quickly stalked out of the hall. His magical eye spun wildly as they entered the basement, dizzyingly full of riches and magic artifacts. One particular dusty golden disc spinning with intricate spellwork laid on the floor. Its surface was etched with multiple overlapping circles of different sizes, a design almost reminiscent of gears. 

Rhysand was the one who crouched over the device, brows furrowed as one hand gingerly traced the device. Amren opened her mouth, a warning not to touch it, a second too late. 

Darkness flooded the room as the tight leash which the High Lord of Night held over his powers slipped. 

Feyre crossed the distance in a heartbeat. Her touch grounded her mate as the shadows receded. When Rhysand opened his eyes and spoke, it was to look, surprisingly, directly at Lucien. 

"The question may not be where Elain is but when."

***

200 years into the past, Autumn 

Lucien had run into the beautiful female three times before he caught her. To her credit, she was more crafty than he had anticipated. 

The first time happened after his visit from Winter, the frost still embedded in his veins as he sipped on hot honey and clove. She was wearing a poorly fitted dress. The mud brown and ruffled material that would look awful on anybody still failed to hide how lovely her face was. So lovely that Lucien stopped in his tracks, entranced. 

Her wide doe eyes stared innocently as a courtier smile charmed the baker with flattering greetings. Beneath the counter, shaky hands swiped a loaf of bread. 

Lucien should have called her out then. Nobody in Autumn stole. Or worse still, nobody did it poorly enough to get caught. 

Yet, he didn't.

He watched, almost helplessly, as she gave hasty goodbyes and scrambled away. For reasons beyond his own understanding, he dropped coins covering the payment of the loaf she stole on the counter before leaving.

He ran into her for the second time two weeks later at a different market. She wore a maroon dress that, despite hanging loose at certain areas, still contrasted nicely against her fair skin and wavy golden brown hair. She had donned the same courtier smile, her words smooth as she queried on the various grains on display. A cheery laugh and a well positioned hand on his arm kept the farmer's eyes away from the pots where her free hand smoothly swept grains into a waiting pouch. 

Lucien's jaw clicked at the action and he stepped closer. 

Almost immediately, she turned her head to lock deep brown eyes with russet ones. Her rosebud mouth parted slightly in panic. 

He wanted to reveal her as a thief. But more than that, he wanted to taste those lips to see if they were as sweet as they looked. 

"Wait," he yelled at her back as she whipped around to run and weave in and around the crowd. One ill-timed crossing cart was all it took for Lucien to lose her, leaving him cursing at the innocent passerby.

The third time was a stroke of luck. Lucien had just returned from visiting Tamlin in Spring and was shaking off his run-in with Ianthe. The mysterious presence eased a tension within him like a beautiful palette cleanser. 

She was finally wearing a dress that properly fit her, a deep coral piece that hugged her petite figure and gave onlookers a peak of cleavage. Something the merchant at the market was evidently enjoying. 

Lucien would be damned if he let her escape him again. 

He hid his presence as he made his way over to the store. His hand grabbed hers as she lifted a bracelet from the table, drawling, "Now, now, dear. You know the consequences of stealing." 

Her form tensed up, the bracelet slipped and tinkled against the surface. She glared at him in anger and what felt uncomfortably like betrayal. He ignored the nagging in his chest and smoothly cut off the furious sputters of the merchant, "Don't worry, I'll take her off your hands." 

He watched as the seller's eyes narrowed in suspicion before widening as he recognised who Lucien was, "But my lord, the law clearly-" 

He didn't let him finish, "Clearly states that the accused be turned over to a figure of authority, yes?"

He raised a cocky brow and held the merchant's gaze until he eventually looked away with a huff. Lucien's lips pulled into a lazy smile, "That's what I thought." 

He dropped two gold coins on the table and pocketed the same silver bracelet. With a snap of his fingers, cuffs bond the female's wrists together and they leave, with one last dismissive stare at the seller. 

"You should be thanking me, you know?" He asked after they had walked some ways from the shop, the sulky beautiful Fae lagged behind him by a couple of steps, her long sleeves kept the cuffs discreet. "Do you know what happens if you get caught?" 

Irritation flashed across her face. She snapped back, "I wouldn't have gotten caught if it wasn't for you." 

Lucien hummed, unconvinced, "A recalcitrant thief like you? You would've gotten caught eventually." 

She scowled but said nothing, letting Lucien lead her out of the market where the crowd had dispersed into nothingness before demanding, "Are you taking me in?"

Lucien bent forward to meet her at eye level, his auburn hair falling out, teasingly scratching the surface of her face. His fingers twitched in envy. He purred, "I could take you in. But why would I toss you in some grimy cell when you could be sleeping in somewhere much nicer?"

She scoffed, sticking her chin out, "If you're not taking me in, I'm heading off." 

Lucien followed as she stalked off, her footsteps pulling him in like a beacon, calling out, "Don't you need to get out of the cuffs first?"

She turned around, raising her freed hands, delicate silver glinting around her wrist where the cuffs should be. Her brown eyes were wide as she asked innocently, "What cuffs?" 

Lucien tipped his head back as a hearty laugh escaped his throat, answering with mirth in his eyes, "A consummate thief. I should've known." 

She rolled her eyes, her lips puckered into a near pout and he was once again struck by how stupidly beautiful this thief was. 

Don't follow me, was all she said as she walked away from him. 

So Lucien stood there, watching her as she walked away from him again, knowing somehow that this would not be the last time he would run into her. 

***

ELAIN

Elain collapsed backwards with the back of her forearm covering her eyes, the old, soft mattress creaking slightly beneath her weight. She let out a heavy sigh, the adrenaline which pumped through her earlier ebbed away, leaving exhaustion in its stead. Her arm slid down her face, revealing the wooden structures of the cottage ceiling, the cozy space lit in the warm orange tint of the fireplace. 

Of course, she knew logically that she could run into Lucien. Afterall, she never knew when exactly he left Autumn for Spring. She never gave the both of them the chance to know each other well enough for such a history to be shared. When he left Night to be with his father in Day after the war with Koschei, his beautiful face dimmed as he offered her those final parting words.

You know where to find me when you've finally made up your mind if you want to give us a chance or reject the bond. 

She almost gave in that day. The urge to take his hand and let him winnow the both of them to his new court. But she couldn’t. Not with her final conversation with Greysen still echoing in her head.

Our engagement is over. I will take whatever people occupy your lands. But not you. Never you. 

 So she put on a polite smile and watched as his composure cracked for a split second before being masked by a diplomatic smile. A smile, a nod and he walked away from her. And she let him. 

The days after that were stagnant. She stayed in Night, remained in the River Manor. She passed her time with Nuala and Cerridwen, cooking, baking, gardening. They brought her books from the Library on herbs and potions. 

Days turned into weeks and months. Elain felt herself steadily sinking further and further into the shadows of the manor. As if she too, had the same shadow manipulation ability of her dear friends. 

Until the dream she had a week before the solstice. 

The visions that changed everything she knew. Of the dead Beron whispering words of poison into the ears of Tamlin and Rhysand, stoking the embers of a civil war. Of a strange disc located in the depths of Hewn City. 

When Elain woke up between the sheets soaked in cold sweat, her anxious heart pounding as her mind spun, she knew that these were visions of a past. But had it already happened or was it a future doomed to change? The ramifications of this changed future would have been devastating - lives lost in conflict, Hybern striking in Prythia's moment of weakness, humans enslaved once more. 

Yet, her own heart couldn't get over the images cycling through her mind - her beautiful nephew, Feyre's glowing happiness as she cradled the small swell of her second pregnancy, the soft fond smile that Nesta reserved solely for Cassian. All of it would vanish if Beron succeeded. Her heart wailed and screamed at the prospect. Elain could not allow that to happen. She had to make sure that the past stayed in the past and her present remained unchanged.

So she slipped away in the chaos of the solstice celebration. Her mind reeling in the unending visions of her family losing everything as she gave into the pull of magic in the basement, locating the relic almost instantly. Like calls to like. 

One simple touch was all it took to bring her back in the past. To Autumn. 

The first few days were rough, bringing back periods of starvation and no Feyre. So Elain adapted. She shoved down her guilt as she stole, lifted and fished for information behind the guise of pretty smiles and flirty touches. Autumn was a court of foxes. And Elain learnt to fit in. 

A pop in the firewood pulled her back to the present, to a wooden cottage sequestered deep into the woods behind The Forest House. She stared at the wooden foundations, frowning. She's been here a month and was still no closer to stopping the terrible future. 

Making up her mind to head back to the tavern that many of the Autumn courtiers frequent the next day, Elain fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams haunted by devastation and violence as Spring and Night went to war. 

***

Elain was roused awake by the pulsating warmth in her chest. The thread purred, soothed by an approaching golden presence. She bit back a sigh, knowing that she probably had seconds before Lucien entered the cottage. 

Not for the first time since her journey to the past, Elain wished she learnt to winnow.

Instead, she swung her body upright and ran her fingers through the birdnest of hair to neaten it to some semblance of normalcy. It probably didn't do much as Lucien stepped in, his mouth slightly ajar as he took in the sight before him. From the stolen dresses hanging neatly by the fireplace to the potted plants on the table and finally, Elain, seated on the bed in her nightdress. 

She drapped the blanket around her, letting the edges touch the ground when she stood, noticing how the fire wielder's eyes tracked the movement before trailing up the length of her body and settled on her face. She asked sharply, "What are you doing here?" 

His eyes widened slightly as he asked incredulously, "What am I doing here? This is my house." 

Shit. Elain's cheeks flushed as she retorted defensively, "The interior was in terrible condition when I came. I thought it was abandoned."

Lucien said nothing as he gave the cottage another onceover, his gaze still focused on the various potted plants as he asked, "Which court are you from?" Suspicious russet eyes shifted to her, "Don't even think about lying. Anyone from Autumn would have known that these lands belong firmly in the High Lord's territory." 

Knowing that Lucien would be able to catch her out on any lies about hailing from other courts, she admitted, "Night." Praying that the currency hadn't changed much in the past two centuries, Elain flippantly tossed the coins to him, "You can check." 

His brows knitted as he stared at the signature embossing of Ramiel and the three stars, wariness joined the suspicion which was already present in his eyes. "What are you doing stealing and squatting here then?" 

Mentally assessing how many more half-truths Elain could get away with, she said, "I'm stuck. I accidentally touched a device that transported Me here. I've been," she swallowed thickly, "Trying to reach Night. To reach Rhysand but I couldn't."

The glint in Lucien's eyes told her she was not quite successful. He informed her sharply, "Night's been closed off since the deaths of the High Lord's family. Surely, someone from Night, let alone familiar with Rhysand, would know that." 

Elain blinked. That explained a lot but did nothing to assuage the Autumn scion in front of her. She exhaled loudly, continuing, "Look. You're not going to believe me but I'm from the future. There is something I need to do," her mind unwittingly brought forth images of Feyre joyfully swinging Nyx around and Nesta smirking up at Cassian as she twirled his dagger in her hand. She clenched her fist as she met russet eyes unflinchingly, "A future I need to preserve. I'm not here to bring harm to your people. I promise." 

She held the gaze, her heart beating anxiously. He had to believe her. 

He shook his head, "I don't even know you."

"Elain," she cuts in, then playing dumb, "And you are?" 

"Lucien"

"Lucien," She repeated, the name felt almost foreign on her tongue after so long. She pressed on desperately, "We can strike a bargain. If you help me, I'll return to where I came from after I've accomplished my goal. No more stealing."

"Your goal?" He asked assessingly, his eyes narrowed into slits. 

She answered promptly, "Prevent Beron from successfully egging Night and Spring into war." 

"My help for no harm done to the people of Autumn," he added as the metallic twang of magic gathered and swirled between the both of them.

"No unprovoked or unnecessary harm and regardless, nothing of lasting damage," she returned. 

"Unprovoked or unnecessary?" He scoffed, "You need to try harder than that."

"Only in self defense then," she countered, resisting the urge to smile. She had missed battling with words.

"Then you have a bargain," he accepted, "Elain."

"Then we have a bargain," She agreed, closing her palm around his, firmly ignoring the way the bond glowed at the physical contact. 

Her forearm tingled as their deal was ratified by their magic. Lucien rolled up his sleeves, revealing a delicate bouquet of flowers inked into his skin. Elain absentmindedly noted the different types of flowers - Lily of the Valley, Hyacinth, forget-me-not. 

She nearly scowled at the obvious symbolism.

Her mate gave a breathy chuckle, lightly tracing the tattoo, "You really are from Night." 

She raised an arched brow as she threw him an unimpressed look, "Are you still doubting me?"

"No, just my first time seeing the Night bargain tattoos in action." he denied smoothly, his mouth edging upwards as he said lightly, "Why wouldn't I want a tattoo linking me to someone as beautiful as you?" 

His gaze darkened as his eyes raked across her form, reminding Elain of, despite the blanket, how exposed she was in the sheer material of her nightdress. Heat gathered in her belly as the bond whispered to her. Claim him. He's ours. 

Elain pushed it aside, swallowing thickly as she looked away. 

It was too late to regret binding herself further to this dangerously gorgeous male. 

***

LUCIEN

Lucien made his way back to the cottage later that evening, winnowing a short distance away from the house. Elain had requested he bring dinner with him, insisting that she was a terrible cook. Something in the way she said it, rushed and panicked, made him doubt that it was the truth. 

Elain. 

She was an enigma and then some. 

She was rolled and wrapped in half-truths. She had shared that she knew him in the future, albeit not well. Although he knew without a shadow of doubt that it went beyond a friend of my sister's. 

No, there was something in her eyes, buried deep within perfect smiles, that hid the truth. Something that made Lucien want to unravel and peel back the layers until they laid bare on the ground.  

He absentmindedly traced the ink hidden beneath his sleeve for the umpteenth time for the day. It was a revealing habit he had to stop when he got home but for now, he indulged himself. 

Agreeing to help her was second nature. The goal itself made it easy to agree. Yet, it was the wide doe eyes and the sound of her banging heartbeat that really made it impossible to deny her. The mere thought of doing so made it feel like a thousand fire ants crawling underneath his skin. 

He gave the door two sharp knocks, swinging open moments after. Gone was the disheveled Elain from this morning, an impeccably dressed Fae stood in her place. Lucien found himself missing the mussed hair and cotton night dress. 

They ate in silence, moving around each other awkwardly as they passed utensils and condiments. He cleared his throat, "We are hosting a High Lords meeting next month at the Forest House - the first since Spring and Night sworn in their new High Lords. It would be the perfect opportunity for Beron to widen the chasm between Tamlin and Rhysand."

Elain's hands paused mid-air before settling back down on the table, her face turned contemplative, "I will need to speak to Rhysand at the first opportunity I get then," she looked at him pointedly, "You'll need to pass him a note the moment he arrives."

He raised a brow, "What makes you think you can change his mind or even have him agree to the meet?" 

She gave an infuriating and secretive smile, raising a slender finger to her lips, "I have my ways." 

"Care to share?" He asked loftily.

"That," she said in a teasing lilt, the same smile still pressed on her lips, "would be telling."

Damn, this female might be the death of him. "One day," he promised, "one day you'll tell me." 

Lucien pretended not to see the strange shadow passed her face and chose instead to change the subject, "So has Autumn lived up to your expectations? 

She tilted her head slightly, "Expectations?" 

"I know our reputation precedes us. Not quite as infamous as Night, of course." 

"The people here are nicer than I thought. Just normal Fae trying to get by," she admitted, her voice dropping a decibel, "I took no pleasure in stealing from them." 

He paused, considering his next words carefully  and offered, "One might say that doing what needs to be done to survive is a decidedly Autumn trait. Something which someone in your position did well in." 

She looked surprised at the statement before she huffed and looked away, a slight blush powdering her cheeks. 

It was the sincerity in her voice as she thanked him that made him think that perhaps, compliments come a little too rarely in her life.

And just maybe, Lucien could change that.

==

ELAIN

~~

Dear Elain,

How do you feel about apple pies for desserts this evening?

Yours,

Lucien

~~

The notebook, with the note written on the first page, appeared on the table a couple of mornings after their first meal together. 

Yours.

The word stirred almost unsettlingly within her. It could be nothing more than the pretty words of the Autumn lord. Yet, a part of her enjoyed and relished in it. The same part of her that desperately needed reminding that he would have to forget and she would have to return to the future. 

With her mind still distracted with the forget-me potion, she penned her response. 

~~ 

Dear Lucien,

Apple pies sound lovely, thank you. 

Would you happen to know if any willowberries grow in the area?

Yours

~~

Crap.

~~

Yours sincerely,

Elain

~~

The exchanging of notes continued as the days went by, growing from simple logistical planning to more personal notes. She knew his favourite breakfast was a hearty plate of eggs, bacons and fried toast but he hated oats. In turn, he would learn her favourite poet, showing up at her doorstep the next day with the book in hand.

He knew she loved gardening because she liked how it felt to cultivate life, and she knew how he loved travelling, meeting new people. 

Her time in Autumn was suddenly brighter and more vibrant. For the first time in months, Elain woke up excited for the day ahead. Lucien was due back from Spring that morning and had promised to stop by after lunch. 

Then the day came and passed with no Lucien in sight. Elain frowned at the twisted worry wiggling in her chest as she flipped the flatbread in the pan.

He was fine. Probably just extended a day of his visit in Spring. 

Right?

Lucien fell to the ground as a blade slashed deeply into his side. He hissed as he stuck his sword into the ground, willing himself to use it as support to stand.

"Get up," a cold voice said. 

His eyes gazed upwards into bored amber eyes of his second brother, swearing under his breath as he stood up shakily. He readied himself in a stance.

"Enough," another voice ordered sharply, "He's learnt his lesson." 

"Remember your place," the first redhead sneered, "little brother." 

Elain gasped, inhaling a waft of acrid char that sent her coughing. Her hands moved automatically to dispose of the burnt black flatbread and replaced it with fresh dough. 

Lucien. The twisted worry braided itself into a tightly twined rope as she numbly chewed on her dinner. She pushed her plate away with a huff and picked up a pen.

~~

Dear Lucien,

You've missed our date. Should I be concerned?

Your worried friend, 

Elain

~~

A knock on the door drew her out of her stupor a few hours later, eliciting a thrum in her chest. Elain rushed to the door, swinging it open. 

Lucien greeted with a lazy smile, “How rude of me to be late for our date.” 

She paused, looking past the nonchalance to survey the sweat beading above his lips, his pallid complexion and knuckles pressed white as his fist closed around a bouquet of wild flowers. Her breath came out in ripples as she gingerly wrapped her arms around him, whispering, “I was so worried.”

Warm muscular arms closed around her and settled around her waist, a combination of the petals tickling her sides and the rumbling of his baritone voice sent shivers down her spine, “I really am sorry I’m late.” 

Elain extracted herself carefully out of his embrace, “What happened?” 

“I was held up by my family, that’s all,” he reassured her verbally while his heart beat weakly and irregularly in his rib cage.

She snorted lightly. She then gently tugged the bouquet from him and pulled him towards the bed, sitting him down.

“Take off your shirt,” she ordered as she grabbed the salve waiting in her pestle and mortar. 

“Why, Elain,” he said teasingly, “If I knew being late was such a reward-”

“You’re hurt,” she accused, slightly hurt that he was still trying to hide it from her, “So stop playing and show me.” 

Their gazes locked for a moment, his russet eyes wide with surprise before he took off his vest and shirt, hissing in the process. Elain wordlessly unwound the bloody bandages to reveal the clean but deep gash in his side. 

“Who did this?” She asked softly, her anger palpable as she shakily applied the salve, earning herself another hiss from her mate.

He sighed, “My brother.” 

Her hands paused in mid-air, “Why?”

“My father,” he admitted, his eyes glassy and distant, “He pitted us against each other the moment we got semi-proficient with a blade and a flame.” He laughed bitterly, “Only the worthy can inherit the title of High Lord, he used to say.”    

She finished wrapping his torso with fresh bandages and laid him down, settling his head in her lap. The tightly woven braid in her chest loosened, returning her breath to her. 

She knew it was the bond that made her this way. Worried and feral but as she threaded her fingers through his silky tresses and the sharp facial features relaxed into the comfort of her lap, she found that she couldn't care less. 

“Is this why you bought this cottage?” She asked after a while, her fingers now massaging his scalp. 

“Hmm?” 

“This cottage,” she repeated, smiling slightly at his sleepy expression, “Is that why you got it?” 

“I built it,” he replied sleepily, “I started building out of boredom but I guess, now thinking back, I was building it as an escape.” His hand reached up to grab hers, stopping its movement. 

“Lie down with me,” he whined, “You’re so far away up there.” 

Elain laughed as she extricated herself to lie down beside him, with her back to his front. His arm rested heavily on her. “Happy?” 

He hummed sleepily and tightened his hold on her, “Yes, now sleep.”  

Elain lets her eyes fall shut, the even breathing of Lucien slowly lulling her to sleep. Through the haze of sleep, she thought she heard Lucien mumble, “Or maybe I was building this cottage for you this whole time.”

***

“Equinox?" Elain asked through a mouth full of oats.

"It's the Harvest Festival," Lucien explained and grumpily took a bite out of his apple, "It falls the day before the High Lord's meeting. After the ceremony, there's a large bonfire, dancing, fireworks and lots of booze." 

"Sounds nice," she commented sincerely. 

He looked at her expectantly. 

"Will you accompany me to the Equinox?" She asked, the first hint of a smile toying at her lips. 

"I would like nothing more," Lucien replied with a smirk which faded as his eyes fell on her bowl of oats, twisting into a grimace, "I can't believe the only breakfast you have in this place is oats. What's wrong with eggs and bacon?"

"First, I ran out of fresh food and second, it's a nutritious breakfast," she retorted primly, as if she did not intentionally make sure that oats, one of the few foods he detested, were the few she kept around the house. 

He grunted as he finished off his apple, pulling a quick giggle from her.

"Done?" He asked drily as she put away the washed bowl.

"Are we going somewhere?" She asked back, surprised and stared pointedly at his side, the nagging worry simmering once more, "Should you be going anywhere?" 

"I'm fine," he dismissed, waving his hand slightly, "Your salve worked great." 

Her brows creased, "Show me," sending him an icy glare, cutting off the teasing remarks before he had a chance to get them out. 

He shrugged off his clothes once more, the movement affecting him much less than they did the night more. The wound was less severe, the redness and inflammation around it largely reduced. His gaze was palpable as she silently cleaned the injury, reapplying the salve and bandaged it up. Her hand lingered on the warm flesh a second too long.  

Her throat bobbed as he reached out to grab her reclining hand, the movement so slow it seemingly dragged towards him.

He brushed her knuckles against his lips and held it to his bare chest, the emanating heat entrancing and addictive. 

The moment held for a beat before she gingerly pulled back her hand, saying softly, "We should get going."

Disappointment flashed across his face before it was masked with impassiveness, "Of course"

Lucien quickly put his shirt back on and held out an arm, winnowing the both of them to the heart of a forest. 

"Look up," he pointed with a wry smile. 

The trees towered over them, the black silhouettes of the thin branches spread out in bunches contrasted against the backdrop of the bright sky, near but never touching. The canopy layer blanketed them in a cacophony of red, orange and gold, allowing only streams of golden sunlight through. 

"It's beautiful," Elain breathed, her neck strained to properly take in the sight above. 

She glanced back down at Lucien, looking every inch of the Autumn prince. His brown skin glowed as the light glided off his long auburn hair, his face graced with a soft smile that made her breath hitch. She repeated, "It's beautiful." 

Tearing her gaze away, she turned back above. She could feel the weight of russet eyes as he replied, "Yes, it is very much so." 

[theyarnmaidstale]

Ignore the first ask for the mashup modern au secret saying polin

this might be a little angstier (and honestly longer) than I anticipated, so bear with me 💚 The idea comes up when she's drunk and at his apartment, head resting on a pillow in his lap while they watch The Princess Bride, reeling from another date gone wrong. "I just don't get it," she blubbered around a hiccup, gesturing wildly to the screen., where Peter Falk was narrating about how wildly in love Wesley and Buttercup were. The Princess Bride had always been her comfort movie, something she put on when she was feeling low or sick, and when she came over, crying and intoxicated, he'd put it on in hopes it'd cheer her mood (and because he's secure enough in his own interests to admit that he loves it too).

It's not working, neither the movie nor him running his fingers through her hair nor any other strategy he usually employed when she got like this.

"As you wish?" she continued, scoffing around the words. "Does anybody actually do anything like that in real life? Have a phrase that secretly conveys how they feel without them actually having to say it? Why not just say what you mean?" Colin thinks about it for a moment, pausing his hand. He didn't think now was the time to bring up that little things like that conveyed love in ways the actual words could not, reminders of all the things he tells his siblings and loved ones so they know he cares for them (shut up, Benedict; drive safe, Kate; text me when you get home, El; Fran, I saw this in the shop and thought of you; of course you can come over, Pen, the door's unlocked), all the ways love exists between the phrases. "It's romantic, I guess," he says instead, shrugging.

"I suppose," Pen makes another small noise of annoyance, pushing herself up off his lap and reclining back into the other side of the couch. She mutters something else under her breath, rubbing at her eyes with the sleeves of the hoodie he gave her when she came in. "Sorry. I must look a mess." Colin gives her a small smile. "Yeah, but you're my mess," he says, as earnestly and sincerely as he can, because it's not the right time but he needs her to know it, and hopes she knows what he means.

send me a fanfic trope mashup

[rmd-writes]

Hi friend! 💕

If you’re still taking prompts for ficlets, may I request a 7 and 14 combo for firstprince? If those are taken, maybe 24? And if that is also taken lol, then one that was not requested, yet you wish to write? Covering all my bases here 😂.

Sending you all the ✨positive writing vibes✨ and hoping this exercise helps the words start flowing!

I’ve assigned each prompt I received a number and am using a random number generator to choose which prompt to write because I got quite a few from you all! If you’ve sent me one, I promise I will get to it!! Because I’m using these prompts to try to shake words loose after a bout of writer’s block, these are all just whatever I can come up with in <30min and barely edited 💖

Thanks so much for the ask Sonia! This has indeed helped the words to start flowing again!! 💖 I have already written prompt 24 (here), so here is your other request, though I've taken some liberties and this possibly doesn't quite hit the 'intimate moments' part of this prompt but I hope you like it anyway!

7. softly smiling at each other from across the room + 14. holding each other’s gaze

From his seat at the bar, Henry has a view of almost the entire room. He feels like his eyes would have been drawn to him almost as soon as he enters regardless though. How could his attention not be drawn to this beautiful, vibrant specimen of a man?

Between drinks and bouts of shouted conversation with Pez, Henry’s gaze is continually drawn to him. 

Dark tousled curls, an easy smile, hands gesturing wildly as he speaks.

He notices Henry too. Henry catches him looking back at him, more than once, a smirk dancing around the corner of his full lips. Still, he doesn’t approach him. 

Pez drags him onto the dancefloor. Henry does his best to move with the music but all he can think about is the view he has of the man dancing.

He’s mesmerising. Not simply because he looks like sex on legs, the curve of his arse clad in tight denim, the tight lines of his body just barely hidden beneath the sheer black shirt he wears unbuttoned to his sternum, a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. As if that wasn’t enough, he moves like the music thrums through his veins, his heartbeat matching the thumping bass, like he was born to this. 

He catches Henry looking at him and grins lazily at him, running his hand through his hair.  He bites his lip and gyrates his hips and the whole scene makes Henry’s breath catch in his throat.

Henry flees the dance floor under the guise of needing some water. He has a shot of vodka instead. When he turns around, the man is no longer on the dance floor but standing a few feet away. Henry meets his gaze and holds it this time.

The man tilts his head back slightly, eyebrow raised. A clear invitation. Henry can’t help but return the almost shy smile the man gives him, as if despite his confidence, he’s unsure whether Henry will accept his invitation. 

Henry moves towards him, anticipation dancing up his spine as he follows the man. He leads Henry to the dancefloor, rather than the bathrooms as he’d expected. He doesn’t dwell on it though, not when there’s a warm hand on his waist pulling him close, sparkling dark eyes framed with impossible lashes looking up at him and a sultry voice in his ear.

“This okay, sweetheart?”

(You can read all of my intimate moments prompts here)

[charcuteriecrab]

let the rain fall (I don't want you to)

A Resident Evil anon request

This wonderful anon requested Chris and Leon's first kiss, so, of course, I had to do it. This one got a little away from me, but I'm glad I spent as much time on it as I did.

Tags: Chreon, Breakfast, First Kiss, Pre-Relationship, A smidge of angst, but Leon is always like that so, No Beta, 2 OC's just to create a plot, Oh yeah, there's barely any plot, it's just breakfast fluff

Rating: T (to be safe? Leon doesn't have a high opinion of himself. Oh also he swears so)

Word Count: 3275

This takes place in the void after Vendetta but don't ask me when.

Leon loved breakfast. Everyone close to him—not that there were very many—knew this. What most people didn't know was that he had never been asked to get breakfast with anyone before.

Until now, he supposed.

He had just gotten off a mission with none other than Chris Redfield, the BSAA's 'golden boy' as he liked to call him. The man was heavily built, large biceps carried by rock-hard muscle, his body akin to a beautifully carved statue. Leon had planned on sleeping for the next week off in some rundown motel, drinking away his exhaustion, but Chris insisted on taking him out for food the morning after they got back.

The moment the man had said "breakfast", Leon knew he couldn't say no, despite how much he wished to pass out on the shitty motel cot.

Which led him to where he was now, being practically dragged along by Chris down the street, the morning sun dousing the man in an orange glow, his tanned body almost glistening like morning dew. He was wearing a green hawaiian shirt and black cargo pants, contrasting against his own blue jeans and simple t-shirt. Leon had foregone a jacket since it was so warm out that day.

"C'mon Leon, the place is just around the corner."

Leon groaned, forcing his feet to walk a little faster to reduce the pressure on his shoulder. The man's grip on his hand wasn't painful, but every place their skin touched sent electricity to his brain, nerves flaring.

Leon had had a crush on the elder Redfield for years at this point, but never felt confident enough to tell him. Not to mention he thought the man was as straight as you could be. Claire never mentioned him being with another man, not that he had talked with her in a while, he supposed. Maybe he should give her a call later, maybe ask her about Chris if he had the courage.

"Where are we going again?" he groaned.

"You said you wanted breakfast, right?" Chris said, slowing for a moment to look back at Leon, his eyes warm and soft and Leon's knees almost buckled at the sight. "You're going to have to trust me with this one."

Trust. Sure, why the hell not? Leon found himself smiling despite the shake in his hands and nodded dumbly. Every moment he stood in Chris's presence sent his heart pumping wildly and he hoped that the man couldn't feel his racing pulse in his palm.

Leon walked a little bit faster, some of his fatigue washing away as anticipation settled in his chest. He was no longer being dragged, but Chris still held onto his hand. He tried not to jump to conclusions—this was a friendly outing after a mission. Chris didn't like him. There was no way. Leon was too prickly to let anyone get close, much less entertain the thought of romance.

Fuck, maybe this wasn't a good idea.

Just as he thought about attempting to slip away, Chris stopped walking and stood, bringing Leon to his side, an arm wrapped around his shoulder. "This is it!" he exclaimed, smiling. 

Leon looked up at the building, trying to ignore how close he was to Chris's chest. It was a small cafe, large windows making up the majority of the front wall; if he squinted, he could see a few people at booths, eating and talking to one another. He could smell the strong scent of coffee from the outside and he found his mouth watering already.

Leon shook his head slightly, turning to the man at his side. "What is this place?"

"I found this little cafe a few years ago by accident, stumbled in after a long mission and nearly passed out. The owners saw me, probably a little peeved, and gave me a cup of coffee on the house." Chris laughed. "From then on I always try to stop by for a meal if I'm in the area."

The mental image of a sleepy Chris stumbling into a sweet little cafe like this made warmth spread through his chest for reasons he couldn't explain.

"That sounds really nice."

Chris chuckled, "You have no idea. C'mon, I'll introduce you."

Leon found himself once again being dragged along, but this time he didn't try to stop it. The door opened and a small bell rang out from above the hinge, the men stepping inside. The smell of coffee was much stronger inside and he could hear the sizzling of eggs and bacon. Looking around, he was surprised to see how open it felt despite being a small establishment. There were a couple of round tables surrounded by wooden chairs with floral cushions and cyan booths lining the walls. Tall palms towered in each corner and various succulents dotted the shelves next to black and white pictures, the frames old and weathered. A few people were eating, but none of them paid any mind. 

Chris led him to the back where there was a counter and an old register, manned by a short, aged woman, wrinkles crinkling the corners of her eyes. She smiled at them sweetly, lightening up when she saw Chris.

"Chris Redfield! Oh how nice it is to see you, my boy," she gushed, moving out from behind the counter to hug the man. Leon stood off to the side, awkwardly. "I see you brought a friend with you!"

Leon smiled slightly, a little uncomfortable, but gave a wave to be nice. 

Chris pulled away from the woman, turning to Leon. "This is Mrs. Canta, and her husband Mr. Canta in the kitchen."

As he said that, an elderly man, presumably Mr. Canta, stepped out of the kitchen, spindly white hair and a hair net doing nothing to cover his sunburnt scalp. "I recognize that voice, is that you, Chris?" He squinted, glasses slightly askew.

Mrs. Canta spoke up, "Yes, it is dear! And he has company this time."

"This is Leon, I promised him breakfast and I knew I had to take him here. Best breakfast joint I know."

"Oh, Chris don't joke," she chuckled.

"You know I'm not."

The woman shook her head fondly. "Take a seat and I will come over with some menus for you boys."

Chris nodded, still smiling, before looking at Leon and gesturing at a booth in the corner as if asking. Leon shrugged, nodding. He didn't care where they sat. He just wanted some food. His stomach growled at the thought and he hoped Chris couldn't hear it.

They sat down across from each other and Leon tried to relax. The cafe was nice and quiet and it was secluded from the main roads, traffic slow and far between. He appreciated that, preferring a less chaotic area. Now that he was forced to face Chris, he nearly blushed, noticing that the man was looking at him already smiling that smile he always sent his way. It was something uniquely Chris and it sent butterflies through his stomach. No, no. He wouldn’t allow himself to hope.

"You ready for the best breakfast of your life?"

Leon smirked, raising his eyebrows. "That's high praise, Redfield. I have been to plenty of good breakfast places."

Chris laughed heartily and Leon thought it was like music to his ears. "You won't be disappointed."

"I'll hold you to that."

Mrs. Canta stepped up to their table, still shorter than them when they were sitting, and placed two menus as well as some napkin-wrapped silverware. She asked what they wanted to drink and Chris ordered an orange juice. Leon ordered the same but also got a coffee. 

When the woman stepped away, Leon smirked at Chris. "So the renowned BSAA captain likes orange juice?"

"It's the superior juice, Leon, also you ordered it too." He gestured to him.

"I never said it wasn't good." Leon would have ordered alcohol if he could but they didn't serve it. Orange juice would have to do for now. Resisting the urge to sigh, he changed the topic. "So how's Claire doing?"

"Good. Doing what she always does, trying to save her corner of the world."

Leon chuckled. "Of course she is." He thought about their conversation after the fiasco with the previous Defense Secretary Wilson and Penamstam and felt a stab of guilt. He didn't mean to hurt her like that but knew going public with that information would have done more harm than good.

"Do you guys talk?"

"...Not as much anymore. I was actually planning on calling her at some point today or tomorrow." He turned his attention to the menu, avoiding Chris's gaze. They had a semi-small selection, but everything they had sounded pretty good. They even had waffles.

Chris also looked over his menu, not seeming to pay that close attention. Maybe he already knew what he was getting since he had been there before. "That sounds great, I'm sure she would appreciate that."

Leon wasn't so sure, but he would do it regardless.

Mrs. Canta came by again, their drinks in tow. The glasses clinked against the aged wooden table, orange juice bright orange and pulpy. The color reminded him of the sunrise from earlier, although the sun was well above the horizon at this point, the light streaming through the windows slightly less bright than before. He could see a few people walking down the sidewalk.

"What can I get you boys this morning?"

Chris spoke up first. "I would like the triple stack chocolate chip pancakes with a side of bacon, please."

The woman nodded, smiling, then turned to Leon expectantly.

"I would like the toast and eggs, sunny side up with bacon and sausages."

She nodded again. "Alrighty, anything else for you two?"

"No, I think we're good, thanks," Chris smiled.

The conversation continued slowly, the two talking about the mission, about embarrassing things they knew about Claire, and about each other. Ever since New York, Leon wanted to spend more time with Chris but never knew how to approach him. He hadn't had the opportunity to have an actual conversation outside of whatever mission they were on and he was greatly enjoying it. He didn’t get the chance to hang out with friends often, and he had an even harder time making frends to begin with. A lot of people thought he was mean and unlikable, some called him annoying. 

Sometimes it was just easier to act cold.

Their food came and Leon practically devoured his, Chris following suit. The man’s pancakes were plate-sized and fluffy, covered in whipped cream, strawberries, and maple syrup. His bacon was crispy, almost too crispy for Leon’s taste, the pieces crumbling in the man’s hand. Leon’s breakfast spread came, one barely-cooked egg laying on top of two crispy pieces of toast, the yolk, seasoned with salt and pepper sliding across the whites. His bacon was cooked to perfection, slightly chewy but not overcooked enough to melt in your mouth immediately like Chris’s and the sausage was fried deliciously as well. They both focused on their food, not speaking much until they were both finished.

He had to give it to Chris, this breakfast was some of the best food he had ever had.

The sunlight began to fade away as they ate, the sky clouding and casting a shadow over the earth. Leon didn’t mind it too much. The cafe was just as warm and comfortable regardless of the weather outside. A pitterpatter of rain began to fall, splattering on the window, the water streaming down the glass until it pooled at the bottom. Leon sucked in a deep, relaxing breath, watching Chris over his coffee. The man was finishing up the last bit on pancake, scooping up as much of the leftover toppings as possible, shoving the fork into his mouth. Leon would have normally thought it disgusting, but instead he found it adorable.

Once Chris leaned back with a sigh, Leon put his mug down, the glass clinking against the table. “You ready to go?” He figured Chris wanted to go do something else now that they were finished. He was sure there were other people he wanted to talk to before their small reprieve was done.

The man looked at him, a flicker of an emotion he couldn’t discern on his face for a moment before being replaced by a soft smile. “I’m ready if you are.”

Leon nodded, pushing himself out of the booth and to his feet, watching Chris struggle to get out due to his larger than average body. He nearly laughed, but caught himself. He waited off to the side while Chris paid, giving Mrs. Canta a hug and sharing a few words he couldn’t hear before coming back to Leon. They shared a look before heading out the door.

The rain was more of a sprinkle than a pour, but they were going to get soaked if they stayed out for too long. “Did you still want to walk?” he asked, scowling up at the sky before wiping his face in annoyance.

Chris hummed, crossing his arms. “It’s not too bad right now, we could walk to my place if you wanted.”

Chris’s place? He was inviting him to his home? Leon felt like he should decline, but then the man held out his hand and he found he couldn’t say no, just like before. He needed to get his feelings under control before he got hurt. It was only polite to help someone get out of the rain. “If you don’t mind, otherwise I can wait for a cab and go back to the motel.”

“Nonsense. You could be waiting awhile, and besides, I still wanted to hang out if you were okay with it.”

Leon froze, not really sure what to say, so he eventually said, “Okay,” and grabbed onto his extended hand. Fuck.

Somehow, Chris’s smile widened further and he squeezed Leon’s fingers once before dragging him across the street. He held his breath and forced himself to keep walking forward. Once they crossed, the man let go, and he felt like he could breath again. The rain fell on Leon’s long locks—he needed a fucking haircut—and streamed into his eyes. He shook his head before pushing his bangs back away from his face. He wasn’t a huge fan of the rain. Between Raccoon City, Spain, and his general poor circulation, he had more than one reason to hate it, but he found it wasn’t too bad if he got to spend the time with Chris, surprisingly. 

Looking over, he realized that the man was thoroughly soaked, water dripping from his shirt and fingers to the ground, his hawaiian shirt tight to his skin and exposing every curve of his muscles. Leon let him lead, since he couldn’t remember where exactly his apartment was, but he was having a hard time not checking him out. Chris deserved more respect than that. He shook his head again, but this time it wasn’t because of the rain.

“We’re friends, aren’t we, Leon?” Chris suddenly said, not stopping.

The question threw him off and he didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Yeah, I think so.” Chris was one of his favorite people, but telling him that would probably scare him off. The man was so selfless, so determined to save people and never leave a man behind. No matter how many people he lost, he never gave up. Leon envied him for that. Every time he lost someone, he fell deeper and deeper into despair. If he was honest with himself, he was scared to lose another person. Who would it be next time? Claire? Chris? 

He would never forgive himself.

“Then why do you avoid me?”

Leon stopped, and Chris did too, turning around, frowning. He opened his mouth—

“Don’t say it’s because you’re busy. You and I both know that’s a lie.”

Fuck. 

“I don’t-” he started, looking away. “I don’t know.” What was he supposed to say? That he was intentionally ignoring the man’s calls? Rejecting every invitation because he was scared?

In an instant, Chris was in front of him and Leon forced himself to look at the man, blinking away the rain. He wanted to take a step back, to run away back to the motel like a coward, but he was frozen in place, holding his breath. 

“You’re my friend, I want to hang out with you more, get to know you.”

“No you don’t,” he growled. Chris didn’t know what he was talking about. 

“Yes, I do.”

“No,” he snarled, “you don’t. I’m not worth it.”

“Let me make that decision for myself.”

Leon stepped forward, getting in Chris’s face, emotion twisting in his chest. He was done beating around the bush. “All I cause is pain and loss on those around me. Everyone dies, Chris. I’m a curse.” 

There was a long moment of silence, and Leon deflated, his forehead falling against Chris’s chest, the sound of the rain the only thing he could hear over the roaring in his head. “I don’t want you to get caught in it,” he murmured. Rainwater streamed into his eyes and he scrunched them shut.

A hand on his cheek gently lifted his head up and Leon opened his eyes quickly, breath catching. Chris looked down at him with such sadness it sent guilt stabbing through his lungs. “And what if I you’re wrong?” he said softly, brushing some of the rain off Leon’s face with his thumb. The touch felt like fire against his skin.

Leon didn’t know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut, trying to calm his racing heart.

“What if I want to get to know you regardless? What if I want to hang out more, what if I don’t care if you’re a curse or not?”

The distant sound of thunder rolled over them and Leon shivered, not entirely due to the cold. Their faces came closer and Leon could feel the man’s breath on his face, warm in the chilled air. Leon breathed through his mouth, lips parted slightly. In an instant, they came together, Chris’s mouth on his, lips pressed together, and Leon groaned as the man’s hands found their way into his wet hair, gripping enough to cause pressure but not pain. This kiss only lasted a moment, but it left them both panting, holding onto each other as if their lives depended on it.

Chris was the one to break the silence. “Still up for coming over?”

Leon wanted to laugh in his face, but instead he smirked, looking up at him with affection he didn’t have the energy to mask. “You’d have a hard time keeping me away now.”

Chris smiled, this time flushed, face red. “C’mon, let’s get out of the rain,” he said, pulling away slightly. “We can talk about this,” he gestured to them both, “when we get home.”

Leon nodded, extending his hand in invitation this time, and Chris took it without hesitation, smiling wider. “Only if you promise we get breakfast tomorrow.”

“Are you admitting it was the best breakfast you ever had?”

“I never rate a place on first impressions.”

Chris laughed. “Then I guess we will have to pay Mrs. and Mr. Canta another visit.”

They walked along the sidewalk, the rain letting up a little, sunshine peeking through the clouds. And this time Leon and Chris held hands the whole way, side by side until they reached Chris’s apartment. They would have to talk about what their relationship was turning into, but for now, they relished in each other’s company, finally content.

[daisyful-gvf]

sweet as berries (part 5)

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pairings: josh x reader

word count: 1.9k

notes: a short little thanksgiving chapter! i hate writing angst even if it is mild lol, idk how good it is but i hope passable. and now we’re all caught up. i’m looking forward to christmas!bf!josh :)

p.s. this is minimally edited for now

playlist

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-🍓-

Thanksgiving was by no means your favorite holiday, but at least there was wine. And Josh, now.

You spent the better part of the day with your family, helping here and there with the easy bits of cooking, arranging the table setting and lighting candles, helping make it cozy.

The fun part was that you’d been texting Josh all day, and he never failed to make you feel a bit better when things were chaotic.

still coming by later? :)

You sighed pleasantly as you responded to the message.

yeah, as long as you’ve got a kiss or two for me 😊

He answered within a few seconds.

i’ve always got infinite kisses for you, berry. don’t be ridiculous.

Like a giddy child, you bit your lip and smiled at your phone.

i’ll be there around 6 for the infinite kisses, then

He answered:

it’s a date :)

So it was easy, really, to get past the drunken family bickering, the whining children, the obligatory conversation. Because you knew that in just a few hours, you’d be in his arms.

•••

“So actually, I don’t think you get to wear any other outfits ever again,” you said into the soft skin of his neck, embracing him on the porch. He smelled more like cologne than usual, and you drank it in.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Mm,” you nodded, “Look too good in this,”

He did, you were being completely reasonable—the blue jeans, the cream colored t-shirt, the soft brown knit cardigan, the golden charm necklace, the sneakers. It was nothing exceptionally fancy, but damn if he didn’t look good.

And he was chewing gum, something that made you stare at his jaw to a point that most people would consider rude. He looked good.

“Haircut?” You asked, touching the fresh, soft sides of his head.

He nodded, “Gotta look good so you don’t leave me for another man,” he giggled.

“Oh, uh huh,” you laughed, wrapping your hands around his head to pull him into a kiss. He hummed into it, but you felt something, a small fuzz at the base of his head.

“What is this?” You murmured, spinning him around.

“I, uh,” he giggled, “Well,”

“Josh,” you grinned wildly, “Is this a rat tail?”

“Mmm,” he giggled, “Maybe,”

“How—when—?”

“It’s been growing out a little bit, it’s just finally noticeable with the new haircut,”

“Oh my god,” you smiled as you touched it. It was barely there, no longer than a centimeter of hair in a small elastic band.

“Do you hate it? You hate it, don’t you?”

“No,” you spun him back around, “No, I like it,”

“Jesus, look at that smile,” he touched your bottom lip, “You do, huh?”

“You gonna let me braid it when it’s long enough?”

“Duh,” he kissed your cheek, “Glad you like it, I just thought it was kinda…I dunno, different.”

“It suits you,” you thumbed over his cheek, mesmerized by how the sunlight looked reflecting in his eyes.

He tucked his bottom lip under his teeth and his eyes danced over your face.

“You…” he started, reaching up to touch your face.

“Mm?” You grazed your thumb over his cheekbone, noting the faint freckles.

“The way you look at me sometimes…” he smiled the softest smile.

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest, anticipating his next words.

He shook his head as he grinned, “I’m so glad you’re mine. C’mon, Berry, let’s go inside,”

You let him pull you into a hug. He pressed a kiss to your temple as you sighed against his cardigan.

“You like pumpkin pie?” He asked, leading you inside. You nodded, taking in the atmosphere.

His family members were scattered throughout the home, chattering to one another, sipping wine and eating bits of dessert. There were earth toned tablecloths draped over every table and buffet, the occasional seasonal decoration as a centerpiece. The fireplace was lit, and the warm smell of it filled the home.

His parents said their ‘hello’s as you followed Josh to the dining room, where most of the dessert was laid out.

“Look who it is!”

You looked up to see Danny setting a plate of pie down, approaching you for a hug.

“Hey!” You gave him a tight squeeze.

“Haven’t seen you in a minute, how you been?” He picked his plate up and took a bite of the apple pie.

“Good,” you said, “Really good, how about you?”

“Same,” he nodded, “Heard you’ve been glued to that one,” he waved his fork at Josh and grinned.

You rolled your eyes and smiled, “A bit, yeah,”

“She can’t help it, have you seen me, Daniel?” Josh shot him a wink and Danny laughed.

“Well, I’m happy for ya,” Danny patted your shoulder, “M’gonna go bring Sam his pie, I’ll see you two around,”

You nodded and made your way back over to Josh, leaning on his shoulder as he scooped a slice of pumpkin pie onto a plate.

“What else do you want, sweetheart? Apple pie, chocolate pie, lemon bar?”

“Mm, just get a tiny bit of everything and we’ll share it,”

“That’s your best idea yet, Berry,” he grinned.

So you sat on the fireplace hearth, knee bumping Josh’s, trying bite after bite of dessert, sipping sweet wine. He would nod after each one, saying it was better than the last. When you kissed him, softly, his lips tasted of powdered sugar and cinnamon.

When you were done and pleasantly full, you excused yourself to take the plate to the kitchen. After setting it in the sink with the others, you made your way to the dining room to get another glass of wine.

As your poured it, a low voice startled you.

“It’s nice to see you”

You turned your head to see Jake, leaning against the doorway. He grinned, just barely.

“What do you mean?” You murmured, finishing your pour.

“I’ve barely seen you since we’ve been home”

You blinked at him, “I’ve been at your house like, every other day”

“Mm,” he mused. He looked…upset? A frustrated heat rose to your cheeks at his curt demeanor.

“And I was at your bonfire?” You said, “And your halloween party?”

“You said like two words to me at the halloween party, and you were drunk”

You huffed out a short laugh. What was he trying to say? You were inexplicably annoyed that he wouldn’t just get to the point.

“Didn’t know I should have been sober at the halloween party,” you bit out, taking a large drink of the wine.

He looked at you with a warning glance, but it did nothing but spur your defensiveness. You swallowed and continued.

“And it’s a party, not a meeting. Did you want me to stay and talk to you the whole time?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “Would have been nice to catch up without you attached to my brother”

You blinked.

“Are you jealous?”

His eyes blew wide, eyebrows arched.

“Excuse me?”

“Of Josh”

He laughed, and a nervous pang hit your stomach.

“Excuse me?” He repeated. “You and I both know it’s never been like that. Never.”

“Oh, so what, you’re repulsed by me, now?”

“No, are—“

“Then which is it?”

“Can you have a bit of empathy for a moment, maybe? Think? Use your brain?”

“Jake—“

“Please. I’m asking. Please empathize.”

He looked…sad. You took a shuddering breath.

Maybe you were being insensitive.

“I’m not mad at you,” he sighed, “Well, I’m a little mad. But I miss you. I miss my friend, I don’t know what—“ he threw his hands up, “It was so sudden. The bonfire happened and then…”

“Jake…”

“And then that was it. And then I’ve just been sat here wondering if you were only close to me so you could be close to…”

You gasped softly.

“Him.” he finished.

There was a beat of silence as you struggled to find the words.

“No, Jake, of course not,” you moved closer to touch his arm but he backed away.

He furrowed his brow, standing there, watching you.

“Then what is it?”

You took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” you started, “I am. It was unintentional to…be so distant,”

He nodded slowly, listening. You tried to swallow down the lump in your throat.

“It’s been, um, a surprise. That this has happened. And I’ve been really caught up in it, because it’s…it’s nice. But I never meant to make you feel like I…”

“Forgot about me?” He finished quietly.

You took a breath, “Is that how you feel?”

He nodded. Tears welled up in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you exhaled, “No, I never want you to feel like that. You’re my best friend, I hope I’m still yours.”

“Yeah,” he exhaled, uncrossing his arms and pulling you into a hug, “Yeah, Berry, of course.”

The nickname made your heart ache. You hadn’t heard it from him in a month, knowingly because Josh had asked him to stop. It was bittersweet to hear.

You leaned into the hug and let his arms wrap around you. He was always warm, and he always made you feel so grounded.

You murmured into his shoulder, “Have I really been a dick?”

He nodded and giggled, pulling away, “Yeah, a bit.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Jake.”

He nodded again, “Thank you.”

There was another pained silence.

“I miss my friend. I was the one who started calling you Berry, ya know.”

A silence fell over the room. Your throat felt tighter.

“You were too shy to even give the strawberries straight to Josh. Had to have me let you into our kitchen every saturday to drop them off.”

He nibbled on his bottom lip.

Fresh tears spilled over, and you sniffled.

“It’s okay,” he consoled, touching your arm.

“No,” you wiped the tears from your eyes, “No, it’s not. I missed you, too.”

He tucked his bottom lip under his teeth—something that always reminded you that they were twins. The nervous mannerism was identical.

“Hey,” he said softly, “Let’s go do something stupid together, we’ll forget about it,” he grinned.

“Yeah?” You wiped your nose off on your shirt sleeve, “Like what?”

“Hmm,” he pondered, leaning against the table for a moment, “Let’s go drive,”

“It’s…” you pointed outside, “It’s icy.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, “Perfect for doing donuts in the grocery store parking lot,”

“Oh, Jesus,” you laughed, “As long as you don’t kill us,”

“Never, Berry, I’d prefer to live until Christmas,” he grabbed you around the shoulders and led you to the front door, grabbing his keys.

“He told me…um. That he didn’t like when you called me that,”

You didn’t look at him as you made your way out. He offered his arm for you to hold onto so you didn’t fall on the slick driveway.

“I know, and I get it,” he muttered, “Our secret. Like I said…you were Berry to me first.”

“Jake…”

“I know, I know. Just—“ he sighed, “It’s gonna take some getting used to.”

You nodded, getting into his passenger seat. You texted Josh, letting him know you and Jake would be out for a bit. Then you put your phone in your pocket, looking to Jake as he got in.

He started the car and put on his music. As he drummed on the steering wheel, he looked to you.

“Ready, Berry?” he smiled wildly.

“No,” you laughed, “But let’s do it.”

“Atta girl,” he beamed, pulling out of the driveway.

-🍓-

taglist:

@starshine-wagner @dannywagners-middlefinger @writingcold @kels-gvf @aconfusedhippie @jordierama @fearless-wanderer @finelinejpm @thehourbeforesunrise @madz-0217 @gretavanbitches @doodle417 @rhythm-of-space @milkgemini @st4rdust-ch0rds @thegardensgate @myownparadise96

[wishing-stones]

whats the longest streak the boys have with keeping baggs from working? would any of them make bets surrounding the docs chronic workaholism

This is a bit of a dangerous game to play with him because he's wildly intuitive and observant. He tends to brush off direct attempts to get him to pull his proverbial nose out of his work at best, or threaten to frog march them out of his lab and make them leave him alone. The only one he lets get away with this is Nightmare, who will ramp up his persistence the longer he gets dismissed.

"I believe it is high time that you stop for the evening, doctor. It is getting quite late." "Yes, yes, I'm aware. I'm neck-deep in the middle of something, so once I'm finished. It shouldn't be more than an hour at the most." An hour later, he comes back. "If you are still 'neck-deep' in your project, perhaps I ought to lift you out of it." "Less so now, I'll wade out myself, don't fuss yourself over it, I will let you know." Twenty minutes later, he comes back again and sits down. "Have you even considered a stopping point in all of this?" "I have, and I have also almost reached it." After another ten minutes, Nightmare takes to hovering. "I'd prefer it if you weren't in my necessary escape path, I need room to maneuver if I make a miscalculation." "If you are anticipating miscalculations, it is far beyond time for you to cease what you are doing." Continued bickering or dismissal gets him picked up (once his hands are free) and carted off. Baggs is usually good about stopping something quickly if he's being threatened with this, because it embarrasses the hell out of him.

Among the guys, the reigning champion is Axe, who has picked up on Baggs' innate want to help and capitalizes on it to keep him busy with little things that aren't in his lab or involve a project. Things like his memory exercises, needing an extra pair of steady hands as a sous chef, and oh, hey! Check out this neat thing he got when he was on a mission the other day.

Killer and Cross tag-team and make him sit still in one spot while overseeing sparring matches.

Dust has cottoned on to what kinds of media he likes, so he'll play it loudly enough in the tv room to draw the doc's attention if he's nearby.

If they all work together, over the course of a day, they can probably keep him out of his lab for the day. The longest streak they've managed is three days, by the end of which Baggs was going stir-crazy from not having something to devote is excess energy to, having slept regularly, and being coerced into leisure for a few days to rest his body as well. He's not that upset about it, he knows it was done for his wellbeing, but... It was underhanded and sneaky.

There generally aren't bets for "how long can this person keep him distracted" and more "how long is it gonna take the boss to force him to call it quits."

Killer usually wins these because he knows Nightmare and his boundaries the best.

[seanpultz]

The Three Stooges in The Haunted Mansion

The Three Stooges, Moe Howard, Larry Fine, and Curly Howard, ambled up the cobblestone path toward the imposing red-brick edifice of Gracey Mansion. Its colonial-style grandeur, reminiscent of the Harry Packer Mansion in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania, loomed before them like a silent sentinel daring them to disturb its eternal slumber. Moe, ever the self-proclaimed leader, swaggered ahead with an air of bravado, slapping his thigh in anticipation of the adventure that awaited. "Come on, you knuckleheads!" he barked at Larry and Curly, who trailed nervously behind. "This'll be a piece of cake! More fun than a barrel of monkeys!" Larry, his eyes darting from side to side, mumbled under his breath, "I hope you're right, Moe," while Curly, true to form, chimed in with a "Nyuk-nyuk-nyuk!" that seemed to echo eerily through the stillness of the night. The mansion's ivy-covered walls and the crooked, leafless trees that surrounded it cast long, skeletal shadows, setting the stage for a night of unforgettable mischief and mayhem that even the most seasoned of fun-seekers would think twice about entering.

"Look at this place!" Moe exclaimed, gesturing wildly at the overgrown foliage and tilted birdbath. "It's like someone forgot to pay the gardeners for a century!" Larry and Curly exchanged uneasy glances, but Moe's enthusiasm was unwavering. They shuffled down the path, weaving through the twisted greenery. The hearse came into view, its doors creaking open and shut as if beckoning them closer. Curly's eyes widened, and he whispered, "Moe, I don't think the horse is invisible. I think it's just not here." Moe rolled his eyes. "Don't be a scaredy-cat, Curly. It's all just for the show!" But as they approached the awning, a sudden gust of wind sent the hearse's doors flapping with a sound eerily like laughter. Larry gulped. "Well, if it's a show, I'm not sure I'm ready for opening night." Curly nodded, his hair springing up like a scared porcupine. Moe, unfazed, marched ahead. "You two are as jumpy as caffeinated fleas! Get a grip!"

The Stooges reached a wrought-iron gate adorned with the stern faces of busts, each more peculiar than the last. "These guys look like they've seen better days," Larry quipped, as he read the inscriptions aloud, "Captain Culpepper Clyne, Prudence Pock, and what's this one? The Dread Family?" Curly's eyes grew to the size of saucers, his voice a squeaky whisper, "Moe, I don't think we should go in there. These people don't look like they're in the mood for company." Moe slapped the back of Curly's head. "You and your overactive imagination!" He turned to Larry, "Read the next one, will ya?" Larry cleared his throat and announced, "Ah, here we have a composer's crypt." Curly's eyes darted to the crypt, expecting to hear a symphony of spooky sounds. Instead, they were met with an eerie silence. "Let's get going, before we're late for our appointment with the living dead!" Moe exclaimed, pushing the gate open with a dramatic creak. The cobblestone path twisted and turned through the graveyard, each step bringing them closer to the mansion's servant's entrance. As they stumbled along, the shadows grew longer, and the chill in the air grew colder. Larry shivered. "I've got a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto," he murmured to himself. Curly looked around, his hair sticking out in every direction, "Or even Orlando!" Moe, still unfazed, marched ahead, leading his trembling comrades through the macabre maze of headstones. "Keep moving, you two! We've got a mansion to explore!" As they turned the final corner, the servant's entrance loomed before them, a dark, gaping maw in the side of the mansion, beckoning them into the unknown. Larry and Curly hesitated, but Moe was already through the door, his voice echoing in the vast, dimly lit space, "Well, don't just stand there! It's not going to get any less haunted if we wait!" With a collective gulp, the trio stepped into the shadowy embrace of the Haunted Mansion, ready, or not, for the spectral surprises that lay in wait.

The trio stepped cautiously into the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with dust and the faint scent of decaying flowers. Cobwebs clung to the chandeliers above, casting ghostly shadows that danced on the faded wallpaper as they moved. "Moe, are you sure this place isn't abandoned?" Larry whispered, his voice quavering slightly. "Abandoned, schmandoned!" Moe scoffed. "They've got more lights on in here than at Times Square!" Curly, ever curious, reached out to touch a particularly large cobweb. It stuck to his finger, and with a yelp, he tried to shake it off, only to have it cling to his nose. "Aha!" Moe said, pointing to the foyer ahead. "This must be the VIP entrance." The foyer was indeed grand, with a towering fireplace to the left, its flames flickering in the gloom. Above it, a portrait of a handsome young man gazed back at them, seemingly untouched by the ravages of time. "Look at this guy," Moe mused. "Must be the owner. I bet he throws killer parties." Larry and Curly exchanged glances, both wondering if the "killer" part was a pun or a warning. The portrait's eyes seemed to follow them as they moved, and Curly couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine. "Let's not keep him waiting," Moe said, slapping both Larry and Curly on the back.

Suddenly a disembodied voice boomed out the following spiel: "When hinges creak in doorless chambers. When strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls. Whenever candlelights flicker when the air is deathly still… That is the time when ghosts are present, practicing their terror with ghoulish delight."

Moe, Larry, and Curly froze in place as the portrait's eyes grew wide with life and the voice filled the air. The painted figure's features began to morph before their very eyes, aging from a dashing young man to a wrinkled, haggard soul. "Hey, that's some kind of trick!" Moe exclaimed, his hand reaching for the wall to steady himself. The wall, however, had other plans. As the picture's transformation grew more grotesque, a hidden panel creaked open beside it, revealing a mysterious octagonal chamber.

“Welcome, Foolish Mortals, to the Haunted Mansion!" The voice greeted. "I am your host, your Ghost Host!"

The Stooges cautiously entered the octagonal chamber, their eyes immediately drawn to the four paintings on the walls. The bearded gentleman holding a document looked particularly stern, while the pretty young lady with the parasol seemed to be smiling at them in a knowing way. The old woman with the rose held their gaze with a serene expression, and the man in the bowler hat seemed to tip his hat slightly. Moe, ever the skeptic, snorted. "These paintings look like they've got more life in 'em than the three of us put together!" Larry's eyes widened as the paintings' eyes began to follow them around the room, the candles flickering in the gargoyles' hands casting an eerie glow on their faces. Curly pointed at the stern bearded man, his voice trembling, "Moe, his nose is growing!" Without missing a beat, Moe smacked Curly's hand away. "It's just a trick of the light, you ninny!" But as they watched in astonishment, the man's nose grew longer and longer, until it was practically touching the floor. The other two paintings began to chuckle, their eyes sparkling with mischief. Larry stuttered, "Moe, I think we've stumbled into a Salvador Dali painting!" Curly, his hair now sticking straight up from fear.

"Our tour begins here in this gallery," The Ghost Host continued. "Here, where you see paintings of some of our guests as they appeared in their corruptible, mortal state. Kindly step all the way in please, and make room for everyone. There’s no turning back now."

As the doors they entered close, The room begins to stretch upwards, the paintings on the walls elongating with it to reveal a comically gruesome end for each subject:

The bearded gentleman holding a document is revealed to be wearing only his undergarments from the waist down and standing atop a lit keg of dynamite.

The pretty young lady holding a parasol is revealed to be balancing on a fraying tightrope above the gaping jaws of an alligator.

The old woman holding a rose is revealed to be sitting atop a tall gravestone, at the bottom of which is a stone bust of her husband George with a hatchet embedded in his head.

The man in a bowler hat is revealed to be sitting on the shoulders of another man who sits on the shoulders of a third man who is waist deep in quicksand.

"Your cadaverous pallor betrays an aura of foreboding, almost as though you sense a disquieting metamorphosis. Is this haunted room actually stretching? Or is it your imagination — hmm?"

The Stooges' eyes bulged in unison as the room stretched upwards, the paintings' morbid secrets unraveling before them. "Moe, I don't like where this is going!" Larry squeaked, his knees knocking together. "What do you mean, 'where this is going'?" Moe retorted, slapping Larry's shoulder. "We're already in a haunted mansion, where else could it go?"

“…And consider this dismaying observation," said The Ghost Host. "This chamber has no windows and no doors… which offers you this chilling challenge: to find a way out!" The Ghost Host unleashes a laugh that rocks the whole room. The Stooges stare upwards towards the ceiling with mouths agape and eyes bulging. "Of course, there’s always my way."

The lights flickered out with a final groan, plunging the room into a darkness so complete it felt tangible. The sudden absence of light was accompanied by a blinding flash of lightning that illuminated the vanished ceiling, revealing the grisly tableau of the Ghost Host's skeletal corpse swinging from the noose in the cupola above. "Nyeeeeeeeah!" Moe's high-pitched scream pierced the silence, his knees buckling in terror. Larry and Curly's screams harmonized with his, the sound echoing through the chamber like a chorus of the damned. As the lightning faded, the skeletal host's cackle grew louder, filling the room with a manic glee that seemed to seep into their very bones. The floor beneath them lurched, and they heard the sickening sound of bones shattering.

The lights snapped back on, revealing the room to be just as they had left it, with no sign of the grim spectacle they had just witnessed. The Ghost Host's cackle faded away, leaving only the three of them standing in the unchanged octagonal chamber. Moe, his heart racing, realized he had been clutching Larry and Curly in a bear hug of terror. With a huff of annoyance, he released them, causing both Stooges to stumble backward. "Would you two quit acting like a couple of scared rabbits?" he scolded, trying to regain his composure. "It's just a bunch of smoke and mirrors!" Larry and Curly looked at each other, their tremors slowly subsiding. Larry rubbed his arm where Moe had gripped him. "Well, if that's the kind of welcome we get, I can't wait to see the housewarming gifts," he quipped, trying to lighten the mood. Curly, ever the optimist, patted Larry's shoulder. "Don't worry, Larry. Maybe the ghosts here are more into pie fights than jump scares!" Despite their bravado, the trio couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, and that the mansion had only just begun to reveal its secrets. With a collective deep breath, they continued their journey into the heart of the Haunted Mansion, unsure of what hilarity or horror awaited them around the next corner.

"Oh, I didn’t mean to frighten you prematurely," The Ghost Host said apologetically with a slight touch of mirth. "The real chills come later. Now, as they say, “look alive,” and we’ll continue our little tour. And let’s all stay together, please."

Moe's face turned a shade whiter than the Ghost Host's at the realization that he'd been had, and he spun around, fists clenched. "I'll give you 'stay together,' you spooky skeleton! If I ever find you, I'll rip out your tonsils and use 'em as earmuffs!" he declared, his voice a mix of anger and fear. Larry, ever the voice of reason, pointed out the obvious. "Moe, he's already dead," he whispered. Before Larry could even register the horror on Moe's face, he felt the sting of a swift slap across his cheek. Moe, now glaring at Larry, delivered another slap, this time to Curly. "What was that for?" Curly asked, "That's for what you were thinking!" Moe glared. Curly, his eyes watering, managed to squeak out, "But I wasn't thinking anything!" Moe slapped him again. "Good! Keep it that way, knucklehead," he growled.

"And now, a carriage approaches to carry you into the boundless realm of the supernatural." The Ghost Host said. "Once on board, remain safely seated with your hands, arms, feet, and legs inside. And watch your children, please."

Moe, Larry, and Curly cautiously boarded their Doombuggy, a vehicle that seemed more suited for a funeral procession than a theme park ride. The plush seats and velvet upholstery did little to comfort them as the carriage began to glide smoothly through the mansion's shadowy corridors. "This is it, fellas," Moe announced, trying to sound braver than he felt. "The real show's about to start!"

"Do not pull down on the safety bar, please." The Ghost Host continued. "I will lower it for you. And heed this warning: the spirits will materialize only if you remain quietly seated at all times."

The safty bar is lowered keeping them in place.

The Doombuggy lurched forward, and the Stooges found themselves in the Portrait Hallway, the walls adorned with a ghastly array of paintings that seemed to watch them with unblinking eyes. "Look at that," Larry murmured, pointing to the flickering portrait of a young lady. "She's aging before our eyes!" Moe rolled his eyes. "It's probably just a cheap trick." But as the lightning flashed outside, the portrait's beauty withered into a grotesque, wrinkled hag. "Yikes!" Curly exclaimed, his voice several octaves higher than usual. "That's no trick, Moe! That's a miracle of anti-aging gone wrong!" The carriage continued, revealing a painting of a proud knight and his steed, the pair morphing into skeletal specters before their very eyes. Moe's skepticism turned to horror as he took in the sight. "What kind of a nut-house is this?" he muttered. The carriage dipped and swayed as if caught in the storm's fury, and the paintings grew more terrifying with each passing moment. A beautiful woman reclining on a sofa suddenly transformed into a snarling beast, her fur bristling with malevolent intent. The Stooges clutched each other, their fear turning to panic. "It's like a nightmare that's trying to eat us!" Larry squealed. "I didn't sign up for this!" Curly buried his face in his hands, peeking through his fingers at the horrors unfolding before them. Yet, amidst the chaos, Moe's mind raced with thoughts of escape, his survival instincts kicking in. "Keep your wits about you, you two," he whispered, his voice shaking slightly. "We're getting out of here before we end up in a painting ourselves!" The carriage rolled on, the mansion's secrets unfolding like a twisted tapestry of terror, and the Three Stooges realized that their laughs had turned to screams in the blink of an eye.

"Oh yes, and no flash pictures, please." The Ghost Host continued. "We spirits are frightfully sensitive to bright lights."

The Doombuggy glided into the library, and the Stooges found themselves surrounded by towering bookshelves that seemed to stretch into infinity. The musty scent of ancient tomes filled their nostrils as they took in the eerie sight of the marble busts lining the walls, each with a candle flickering atop. "Look at these dusty old books!" Moe exclaimed, swiping at a cobweb that clung to his face. "They've got more stories in here than a politician at election time!" Larry quivered as he scanned the titles of one particularly thick tome, "The Art of Haunting." "Moe, I don't think we're in the Disney section anymore," he whispered. Curly, ever curious, reached out to touch a bust, only to have it swivel its head and wink at him. "Hey, Moe, this guy's alive!" he yelped, jumping back in his seat. Moe, his temper flaring, smacked Curly's hand away. "It's just a trick, you muttonhead!" But as they rolled deeper into the library, the busts began to speak, recounting chilling tales of their ghostly authors in unison. "I think I'm going to need a new pair of pants," Larry murmured, his voice quivering.

The Ghost Host then boasts “Our library is well stocked with priceless first editions, only ghost stories, of course, and marble busts of the greatest ghost writers the literary world has ever known."

The Stooges' carriage shuddered to a halt in the Music Room, where a dusty grand piano played a mournful tune, its keys moving as if by an invisible hand. The shadow of a pianist danced on the floor, casting an eerie pallor over the cobweb-covered furniture. "What the…?" Moe stuttered, his eyes fixed on the spectral performance. Curly leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "Hey, Moe, maybe he's playing 'Chopsticks'!" Larry looked paler than a ghost himself, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't think this is part of the regular tour." As the music grew more frantic, the shadow's hands began to blur, and the piano's lid slammed shut with a bang, revealing the grinning visage of a skeletal pianist. The Stooges yelped in unison, their hearts racing as the music turned into a cacophony of discordant notes. "Alright, that's it!" Moe declared, slapping the side of the Doombuggy. "Let's get out of here before we're the next act in this freak show!" But as they tried to stand, they found themselves stuck fast to their seats, the ghostly music seemingly holding them in place.

"They have all retired here, to the Haunted Mansion." Continued The Ghost Host. "Actually, we have 999 happy haunts here. But there’s room for 1,000. Any volunteers?"

The Doombuggy ascended the grand staircase, the stairs seemingly defying gravity and logic as they twisted and turned in impossible configurations. Moe's eyes narrowed as he studied the ectoplasmic footprints that littered the steps, each one belonging to a different spectral resident of the mansion. "Look at these goofy stairs!" he exclaimed, slapping the railing in frustration. "It's like someone took a level from 'Super Mario Bros.' and slapped it in the middle of a nightmare!" Larry, his knuckles white as he gripped the safety bar, murmured, "Moe, maybe we should just stay put." But Curly, ever eager for a challenge, leaned over the side of the carriage, his eyes alight with excitement. "Weeeee!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the stairwell. As the carriage climbed higher, the stairs grew more precarious, leading them through a dizzying array of right-side up, upside-down, sideways, and slantways configurations.

"If you should decide to join us, final arrangements may be made at the end of the tour."

As the Doombuggy emerged from the staircase and into a corridor shrouded in darkness, the Stooges blinked rapidly, trying to adjust their eyes to the sudden change. Suddenly, the walls came alive with a pattern of glowing, blinking eyes, each one seemingly watching their every move. Moe's heart skipped a beat, and he turned to Larry and Curly, his voice a harsh whisper, "Do you see that? We're not alone!" Larry and Curly nodded, their own eyes wide with fear as they took in the unsettling sight. The eyes grew larger and more intense, closing in around them like a wall of unblinking spectators. "Let's get out of here before we become part of the decor!" Moe hissed, slapping the side of the carriage. But the Doombuggy didn't budge, as if the very mansion itself was enjoying their panic. Larry and Curly clung to each other, their trembling forms silhouetted against the pulsing wall of eyes. "Moe," Larry whispered, "I think the house has other plans for us." Curly, in a rare moment of lucidity, added, "Yeah, and I don't think they include a backstage pass!"

"We find it delightfully unlivable here in this ghostly retreat." The Ghost Host said. "Every room has wall-to-wall creeps, and hot and cold running chills."

The Three Stooges' carriage drifted into the endless hallway, the flickering candelabra casting eerie shadows that danced along the wallpaper. Moe squinted, trying to make sense of the scene. "What kind of a Hotel California is this?" he quipped, trying to shake off his fear with a laugh. "You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave?" Larry quipped nervously. Curly, his eyes glued to the floating candelabra, pointed to the armchair with the face. "Moe, I think that chair's watching us!" Moe rolled his eyes. "It's probably just a bunch of springs and levers," he said, waving a dismissive hand. But as the chair's eyes followed them, and the suit of armor shifted slightly, even Moe couldn't deny the creeping unease that gripped them all. The walls groaned, and the floorboards creaked beneath them, as if the mansion itself was alive and toying with their nerves.

"Shhh, listen!" The Ghost Host hissed.

A keening sounding like a banshee is heard. The Stooges blood instantly turned to ice.

The Doombuggy slowed as they approached the conservatory, allowing the Stooges a clear view of the macabre scene. The air grew thick with the scent of decaying foliage, and the misty landscape beyond the glass walls looked like it had been plucked straight from the pages of a gothic novel. Moe leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "What's with the decorations?" he quipped. But his laughter died in his throat as the skeletal hands grew more insistent, their bony fingers clawing at the coffin lid. "It's just a recording," Larry said hopefully, his voice wavering. Curly, however, had had enough. "Moe, let's get out of here!" he begged, his eyes darting wildly.

The Doombuggy lurched backward, sending the Stooges' stomachs flipping like acrobats. "What's the big idea?" Moe bellowed, slapping the side of the carriage. "We're going the wrong way!" But the mansion had its own agenda, carrying them down the corridor of chaos. The doors on either side of them bulged and groaned, the sound of the crazed laughter and desperate pleas growing louder with every passing second. Larry's eyes darted from door to door, his imagination conjuring up all manner of horrors. "Moe, I don't think we're in the 'It's a Small World' ride anymore," he murmured, his voice trembling. Curly, his eyes as wide as saucers, pointed at the distorted family portraits on the walls. "Moe, these guys look like they've seen the last reel of a horror movie!" Moe's bravado was waning, his voice a mere whisper. "Keep it together, you two," he said, trying to convince himself more than anyone. The grandfather clock at the corridor's end loomed over them, its hands spinning madly in reverse, chiming out the unnatural hour of thirteen. As the shadow of a clawed hand slithered over the clock face, the lights flickered ominously. The Stooges' screams melded with the cacophony of sounds, each one more terrified than the last.

Moe, Larry, and Curly's Doombuggy shuddered to a halt in the heart of the shadowy Séance Circle. They stared in awe and horror at the floating crystal ball, where the disembodied head of Madame Leota levitated, her eyes blazing with a spectral fire. Her incantations filled the room, and the air grew thick with the scent of brimstone and incense. "Serpents and spiders, tail of a rat, call in the spirits, wherever they’re at! Rap on a table — it’s time to respond. Send us a message from somewhere beyond…Goblins and ghoulies from last Halloween, awaken the spirits with your tambourine! Creepies and crawlies, toads in a pond, let there be music from regions beyond! Wizards and witches, wherever you dwell, give us a hint, by ringing a bell!" The raven atop the chair ruffled its feathers, seemingly in time with the chant. "What kind of hocus pocus is this?" Moe demanded, slapping the side of the carriage. But his skepticism was no match for the eerie symphony of sounds that surrounded them: the cackle of a witch's laugh, the distant toll of a funeral bell, and the haunting melody of an organ that played on its own. Larry's eyes darted to the floating instruments, his knees knocking together. "Moe, I think we're in over our heads!" he whimpered. Curly, unable to resist the urge to interact, poked his finger through the safety bar, reaching for the floating tambourine. It smacked him back with surprising force, sending him reeling into Larry's lap. "Nyuk-nyuk!" he yelped. "It's alive!" The lights dimmed further, and a ghostly face began to form in the mist, its eyes locking onto the terrified trio. The raven cawed, and the room grew colder. "Alright, that's it," Moe said, his voice shaking. "We're leaving!" But the carriage had other plans, spinning them in circles as the chaos grew more intense. The instruments played a crescendo of discordant notes, and the face grew closer, its mouth open in a silent scream.

Suddenly The Ghost Host spoke: "The happy haunts have received your sympathetic vibrations and are beginning to materialize. They’re assembling for a swinging wake, and they’ll be expecting me… I’ll see you all a little later."

The Stooges, their nerves frayed to near-transparency themselves, stumbled out of the Séance Circle and onto the balcony overlooking the Grand Hall. The sight before them was nothing short of pandemonium. "What the…?" Moe sputtered, his eyes wide with astonishment. The hall was alive with spectral activity, a veritable smorgasbord of supernatural shindig. Larry pointed to the dining table, his voice quivering with excitement. "Look, Moe, it's like a ghost potluck down there!" Curly leaned over the railing, his eyes glued to the orange-haired birthday ghost. "Hey, she's got more lives than a cat!" he exclaimed as the ghostly guests disappeared and reappeared with each candle's re-lighting. Meanwhile, an elderly specter played peek-a-boo with the rocking chair, her laughter echoing through the cavernous space. The trio watched in awe as the chandeliers above swarmed with ghosts, and the walls themselves seemed to breathe with the frenetic energy of the partygoers. Moe's eyes narrowed as he took in the duelists locked in their eternal dance of death. "Looks like someone forgot to tell them the party's BYOB… Bring Your Own Bullets!" he quipped, trying to lighten the mood. But the tension was palpable, and even the most skeptical of the three couldn't ignore the cold chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioning. The music grew louder, the spirits more insistent, and the organ's gothic melody seemed to beckon them down to join the festivities. Larry clutched Moe's arm, his voice a high-pitched squeak. "Moe, I don't think we're just watching the party anymore… I think we're part of it!" Curly nodded, his hair bobbing in agreement. "Yeah, and I didn't even bring a present!" Moe slapped his forehead. "You two and your nonsense! It's just a bunch of special effects!" But even as he spoke, the floor beneath them began to rumble, and the chandeliers swayed with an otherworldly rhythm. The Three Stooges looked at each other, their bravado slipping away like the candle's wax. "Well," Moe said, swallowing hard, "this is definitely one party we weren't expecting." The Grand Hall had them in its thrall, and the Haunted Mansion's grim grinning ghosts had no intention of letting them leave without joining the fun.

The Stooges' Doombuggy rattled through the dusty attic, the air thick with the scent of age and a hint of something… sinister. The haunting tune of "The Wedding March" played on a phantom piano, the notes as eerie as the beating heart that seemed to echo through the cobweb-covered rafters. Larry and Curly clutched each other, their eyes darting from the flickering candles to the macabre wedding decorations that surrounded them. "Moe, this is starting to feel like a really bad sitcom episode," Larry whispered, his voice trembling. "Shut up and keep moving," Moe hissed back, his own nerves stretched taut as a guitar string. They passed the five wedding portraits, each showing a different groom with the same bride, and watched in horror as the grooms' heads vanished into thin air, only to reappear with a twisted grin. The tension grew palpable as they approached the shadowy figure of Constance, the ghostly bride, her laughter as cold as the attic air. She held out a spectral bouquet, the hatchet appearing and disappearing in her ghostly grasp. "You may now kiss the bride," she cackled, her eyes gleaming with mischief. Curly's eyes widened even further, if that was possible, and he buried his face in Larry's shoulder. "Moe, I don't wanna kiss her!" he wailed. Moe rolled his eyes. "It's just part of the show, Curly," he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. But as the hatchet hovered closer, the line between reality and illusion grew disturbingly blurred.

The Doombuggy lurched through the Attic window, the sudden burst of cool night air hitting the Stooges like a slapstick punchline. They clung to the bars, their stomachs dropping as the carriage began its precarious descent down the balcony. "Moe, I think we're going backwards!" Larry exclaimed, his voice pitched high with fear. "Don't worry, Larry, it's just part of the ride!" Moe assured, though his knuckles were white on the safety bar. As they reached the ground, the graveyard sprawled before them, alive with the capers of invisible spirits. The caretaker and his dog, both frozen in terror, gaped at the chaos. The sound of laughter and music swirled around them, and they watched as ghosts played a merry tune on makeshift instruments. "Look, Moe, it's a ghost band!" Curly exclaimed, pointing to the spectral quintet. To their left, a royal ruckus unfolded: a King and Queen teetered on a see-saw, while a Duchess swung from a tree branch, sipping tea as if floating in a genteel nightmare. Meanwhile, a skeletal wolf serenaded the moon with a mournful howl. Across the path, five Singing Busts crooned a melody so catchy it seemed to be composed by the Pied Piper himself. Ghosts flitted about, sipping tea, popping out of their graves with a cheer that could wake the dead—or, in their case, keep them up all night. A Mummy, in a tragicomedy of errors, tried to get the attention of an elderly spirit, who remained blissfully deaf to his calls. The Three Stooges couldn't help but stare, their eyes bulging in amazement. "I think we've stumbled into a ghost karaoke night!" Larry quipped, trying to hide his nerves. "Well, if we're going to be here, we might as well join in," Moe said, slapping Curly on the back. Curly looked at him, his eyes wide with terror. "But Moe, I can't hold a tune in a bucket!" "Don't worry, Curly," Moe grinned, his bravado back in full force. "You're with the world's greatest backup singers!" With that, the trio was off, stumbling through the graveyard, their laughter and shrieks blending with the ethereal orchestra around them. They had no idea what the night had in store, but they were about to give the Haunted Mansion's residents a performance they'd never forget.

Suddenly The Ghost Host's voice is heard again: "Ah, there you are! And just in time… there’s a little matter I forgot to mention."

"And what's that," Larry inquired.

"Beware of hitchhiking ghosts!"

"Hitchhiking Ghosts?!" All Three Stooges asked in horror.

The Doombuggy rolled into the Mausoleum, the damp air thick with the scent of decaying flowers and the distant whispers of the interred. The Stooges, still reeling from the graveyard's grand finale, barely had time to catch their breath before they spotted the trio of hitchhiking ghosts: a Traveler with a knapsack, a Skeleton with a toothy grin, and a Prisoner in tattered stripes. The Ghost Host's ominous warning echoed in their minds as the spirits waved them down with cheery insistence. "Oh, no," Larry murmured, his voice quaking. "They're not real, are they?" Moe scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous! It's just part of the ride!" But as they approached the wall of mirrors, their reflections were joined by the very ghosts they'd hoped to leave behind. Curly's hair stood on end as he saw the spectral trio sitting in their laps, their grins wider than ever. "Moe, they're in the car with us!" he squealed, trying to push them away. Larry's eyes darted back and forth between the mirrors and the real ghosts, his mouth agape. "We've got to get out of here!" The mirrors grew wavy, distorting their images until they were barely recognizable, and the Hitchhikers' laughter grew louder. Moe's confidence wavered as he realized they were in deeper than they'd bargained for. "I… I don't think they're letting us go that easily," he stammered. The Stooges looked at each other, their faces a canvas of terror and bewilderment, unsure if they'd ever find their way out of this haunted joyride.

"They have selected you to fill our quota, and they’ll haunt you until you return! Now I will raise the safety bar, and a ghost will follow you home!" Laughed The Ghost Host.

The Stooges' eyes darted to the tiny figure of Little Leota, her glowing form floating above the Mausoleum's exit. "Hurry back! Hurry back!" she called after them, her voice tinkling like a chime in the wind. "Be sure to bring your death certificate if you decide to join us. Make final arrangements now! We've been dying to have you…" Her eerie giggle followed them as they bolted from the Mansion, their feet moving in a blur of panic. The Ghostess's words clung to them like a cold fog, sending shivers down their spines even as they barreled through the moonlit graveyard. "Moe, she said we're gonna be haunted!" Larry gasped between breaths. "And she's got the same dress sense as the bride from the attic!" Curly added, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting a hatchet to appear at any moment. The trio didn't dare to look back, their eyes locked on the distant lights of the theme park's entrance. As they stumbled over the cobblestones, the laughter of the ghosts grew fainter, but the memory of their glowing blue faces remained burned into their minds. They had escaped the Haunted Mansion, but little did they know that the real adventure was just beginning, with the ghosts of the mansion eager to continue the party beyond its shadowy walls.

[celestiall0tus]

Tales of Bloody Bug and Chat Noir - Chapter 64 - Starting Over

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            Adrien sat on the couch in the sitting room. He tapped his foot against the floor and fidgeted with his hands as his eyes darted from the clock on the wall and back to the floor. He watched the seconds tick by at an agonizing snail’s pace. Each one longer than the last that made the wait torturous. He checked his phone for any messages from Amelie or Alim, but there was nothing aside from their last message that they had Gabriel.

            Adrien took a shaky breath to calm himself, but the nerves remained. Today was finally the day that he would see Gabriel again. Today was the chance to learn everything. Today he would finally have the answers to everything he wanted to know. There was a sense of joy, but also fear. This was the same man that neglected him for a year. The same man that was Hawkmoth. The same man that allowed two monsters to abuse his own son. He would face that monster soon, and the wait was killing him.

            The doorknob turned and the door opened. Adrien shot to his feet in anxious anticipation, but slight relief soothed him as he heard Alix’s uproarious laughter. He watched her barrel into the sitting room with Felix hot on her heels.

            “Adrien! Adrien! You should have been there. Mister I-think-I’m-so-smooth-watch-me just-!”

            Felix jumped Alix as they fell to the floor in a tumble. Adrien watched the pair fight until Felix had Alix in a hold. Adrien was sure Felix had won when Alix wildly kicked and hit Felix in the groin. Adrien recoiled as Felix let out a high-pitched groan and Alix escaped him.

            “Bloody hell, you manky twat! You bloody cheated!”

            Alix burst out laughing. “Is all it takes is a kick to the balls to sound like a whining, pompous Brit? Shall I do it again?”

            Felix hissed as he got in Alix’s face. “Don’t even think out it, nutter.”

            “Let’s see you try and stop me. You’ll be as successful as you are with your ice-hearted wretch.”

            “You manky cunt.”

            “The fuck did you just call me you whiny, self-absorbed, blue-blooded Yankee rank roast beef?”

            “Yankee roast-! Fuck you, you manky, daft, ankle-biter frog!”

            “Felix!” Amelie yelled.

            Felix flinched as he, Alix, and Adrien turned to see Alim, Amelie, and Gabriel standing together. Amelie crossed her arms as she glowered at Felix.

            “I’m ashamed of you. I asked you to be nice to Alix because she will be your sister one day,” Amelie scolded.

            “Baby steps, Amelie,” Alim reminded.

            “Huh? Oh, yes, baby steps. Anyway, I don’t want to hear you call Alix anything like that again. Do you hear me?”

            “Fine,” Felix grumbled.

            “That goes double for you too, Alix. We’re all living under the same roof, and I would appreciate if you could get along even if just a little,” Alim added.

            “No promises,” Alix remarked.

            Alim sighed. “Just like your mother, bless both your hearts.”

            “This is touching and all, but I would like to speak with my son,” Gabriel said.

            “You may, but you will be doing it with everyone present, like we discussed,” Amelie remarked.

            “Amelie, with all due respect, I-.”

            “I don’t care. You have proven to me you are a sorry excuse for a father and have done everything that’s upset our Emilie. Adrien was her pride and joy, her little miracle, just as Felix is mine. And you put him through hell and high water, and I’m sure we all would like to know.”

            Gabriel glared at Amelie, then sighed. “Fine, but no remarks from the peanut gallery. This is between Adrien and myself. Understood?”

            “I think that’s fair. What about the rest of you?” Amelie asked.

            Felix shrugged and Alim nodded while Alix shook her head.

            “Alix, is there something wrong with that?” Amelie asked.

            “Yes. I want answers just as much as Adrien. You put him through hell, you terrorized the city, and I want answers just as much as Adrien,” Alix pointed out.

            Gabriel sneered. “I owe you nothing, girl.”

            “You’re wrong, Gabriel,” Adrien butted in.

            Gabriel’s eyes widened as he looked at Adrien. “What did-?”

            “Alix has stood by me ever since you shut me out at the start of the year. It has been her and Alim that welcomed me into their family. It’s because of her I’m even who I am now. We’ve been through so much. More than you could ever imagine, so whatever she wants to know, she’s more than obligated to an answer.”

            Gabriel sighed. “Fine, if it means we get this started already. Shall we sit?”

            Everyone exchanged glances before they moved. Alix sat next to Adrien on the couch while Alim and Amelie sat together in a living chair adjacent to them. Gabriel took the other living chair across from Alix and Adrien while Felix stood between Amelie and Adrien.

            “Where do you want me to being, Adrien?” Gabriel asked.

            “The very beginning. With you searching for the peacock brooch,” Adrien answered.

            “How did you know about that?”

            “That’s not important right now, is it?”

            “Fine. Emilie and I were ready to start a family, but try as we might, Emilie couldn’t conceive. We tried everything along with Amelie and Colt, but nothing worked for us,” Gabriel started.

            “If you’re as bad at aiming as Colt was, I’m not surprised. Surprised he even managed to get it right once for me to have Felix,” Amelie muttered while she looked at her nails.

            Felix recoiled at the statement, Adrien pursed his lips, and Alix snorted in laughter.

            Gabriel glared at Amelie. “Then you’ll love this part, dearest Amelie. Emilie and I looked into other methods outside of the conventional, even modern. We discovered a budding archeologist by the name of Nathalie Sancoeur who was pursuing artifacts known as the Miraculous. We looked over her research that she had released to the public. As bare bones as it was, it gave us hope that she could help us find an answer to our problem.”

            “Why resort to using a Miraculous if you had no idea what it was or if it could even help you?” Alix asked.

            “Because we had tried everything, and Emilie… Emilie was falling into a terrible depression. She blamed herself for not being able to conceive. She regularly called herself a failure of a woman and daughter, commented that I should have married anyone but her, and I just… I wanted to do right by her. So, we funded Nathalie’s research. I had begun to lose hope until we found the peacock brooch. Nathalie explained that with it, we could create creatures out of pure emotion. She had also warned that it was damaged, but I did not listen. I took it, and presented it to Emilie. In her delight, she used it to impregnate herself with a baby made of pure love.”

            “She what?!” Amelie squawked.

            “Oh, you think that was bad? Colt soon learned of Emilie being pregnant and came at me. He demanded to know how I managed to continue my legacy with the misguided heir while the two of you couldn’t conceive. I offered him the brooch in exchange for his strongest warrior to protect Adrien. So, Colt used the peacock and mirrored Emilie’s actions.”

            Amelie’s jaw dropped. “What? You… you’re lying!”

            “What would I have to gain from lying right now?” Gabriel countered.

            Amelie’s face fell as she looked at Felix. Felix flinched and looked away.

            “No. No, no, no! I had Felix. Felix is my flesh and blood. He’s not some creature made of whatever Colt felt at the time. He’s my amazing, beautiful son!”

            “He’s right, Mum. I was a monster,” Felix muttered.

            “No, you’re-! Wait, you were?”

            “Thanks to the hero, Chat Noir, I was made fully human to escape the possibility of being used by the villain, Mayura.”

            “Wait! Adrien, what about you?” Gabriel butted in.

            “I’m not a sentimonster anymore. Bloody Bug saved me after Mayura… after Mayura ordered me to stay in the mansion as she had it collapsed on top of me,” Adrien admitted.

            “What?” Amelie and Gabriel yelled.

            “You told me you weren’t over there! What were you doing there?” Amelie shrieked.

            “I-,” Adrien started.

            “Does that even matter? Why would you put yourself in such danger?” Gabriel demanded.

            Adrien grimaced as he looked to Alix. She sighed and looked between Amelie and Gabriel.

            “Now is not the time for this. We’re here to discuss Gabriel being Hawkmoth. I, for one, am upset Adrien was in danger, but I’m not about to let myself get distracted. Gabriel, when you took the brooch, what became of Nathalie?” Alix asked.

            “We’re not changing the subject. Adrien, why-?” Gabriel started.

            “Just answer the question, Gabriel,” Adrien hissed.

            Gabriel recoiled and sighed. “I cut Nathalie off after that. She pushed for a time, and I, in a moment of clouded judgement, delegitimized her research, destroyed her reputation and image, and completely cut off cut with her. I had what I wanted and had no need of her ruining my happiness.”

            “Until you ruined yourself by letting your wife use a damaged miraculous,” Alix remarked.

            “Yes. When her health declined, I sought to find a fix but couldn’t find one. I watched over the years as she withered away to nothing. It was then that I found Nathalie again to find a solution.”

            “And how did Nooroo enter the equation? Before or after Nathalie’s return?”

            “Long before. I found him using the scraps of Nathalie’s research I still had. However, his power could not help me. I held onto him as Nathalie returned, but as my PA. She worked on solutions until the moment Emilie passed. It was only months after that did Nathalie present the solution to use a wish from the black cat and the ladybug miraculous to bring back Emilie.”

            “Where was the brooch at that time?” Adrien butted in.

            “Kept in a secure location. At least until Emilie passed. I… I tossed the brooch that took her away from me,” Gabriel answered.

            Adrien and Alix shared a knowing look.

            “So, you became Hawkmoth to, what, bring Mom back?” Adrien asked.

            “Yes. I know I’ve always been a lousy father. I could never be what she was to you. Those following months, seeing you without her, it broke me. You deserved so much better. You deserved Emilie, not me. I wanted to bring her back for you. I didn’t deserve you like she did. So much so that I… I was… I threw you to the wolves.”

            Adrien frowned. “Why’d you do it? Why’d you allow them to do those things to me?”

            Gabriel hesitated. “I… I don’t know. I… I really don’t. I don’t have an answer or reason to it. None that would make it right.”

            “I don’t care about making it right. I want to know what you thinking to allow those monsters to assault your only son that you were doing all this for.”

            Gabriel looked at Adrien with eyes dark with remorse. “I thought I could fix it all. I thought with this wish, I could erase all that pain like it never happened. I thought so long as Emilie were here, you wouldn’t have to worry about that. I… I allowed it to justify hurting you. Her pride and joy. Her little miracle. But I was wrong.”

            “And when did you finally realize that? It certainly wasn’t at that moment. It certainly wasn’t when you blamed me for it. It certainly wasn’t at any point after. So, when did you realize you were wrong?”

            “When Mayura took you. When Mayura aimed to use you to get to me. The fear I felt in that moment… I had never felt anything like it. I… I couldn’t justify what I was doing anymore after that. I tried. I tried to be a father to you, but I wasn’t sure what to do. I never had to be a parent, not like Emilie. It’s why, on a very small level, I was grateful for Amelie being there and helping me to learn to be there for you. To be a parent like Emilie.”

            “Does that mean you… you weren’t going to be Hawkmoth after that moment?”

            “Yes. I had a moment with myself as everything sank in. I realized just everything I had done. How much I hurt you. How much I disgraced Emilie. All for the hopes of a fool’s dream. I thought I could start over without you knowing the truth. I thought so long as you didn’t know, it would be easy to try again. To be a father. To be a family. I just… I wanted to do right by both of you. I just-.”

            Gabriel broke down in tears. Adrien’s eyes widened as Gabriel lamented his failings. Alix stared at the ground, then looked at Alim. Alim nodded, moved Amelie off him, and sat on the arm of the couch next to Gabriel.

            “Mr. Agreste, if I may, I wish to speak with you as an equal. Not in status, but as widowers. I understand, to a degree, where you are coming from. I may have never felt the need to seek out magical artifacts, but I understand not feeling able to fill another’s shoes. One that was so much more for your child than you’d ever be,” Alim started.

            “And just how do you know?” Gabriel demanded.

            Alim held out his hand for Alix, who took it, and guided her beside him. “This one right here. My darling little girl. A spitfire, just like her mother. Her shadow in every right. I always remember it was Mom she wanted, where was Mom, I don’t want you, I want Mom. I was always a little jealous Josi got all the attention from my little girl. That was until Josi got sick. We watched her wither away until her very last breath. And I-.”

            Alim paused and took a deep breath. He wiped the corner of his eyes as they misted over.

            “I’ll never forget that hollow feeling. That moment when I realized not what I lost, but what our little ember lost. And what I could never be. I was not bold, ferocious, loud, or anything Josi was. I was not anything Alix had learned to be from Josi. I couldn’t be what Josi was. I couldn’t be that same guiding light that Josi was, and still is. But that didn’t stop me from being there for her. Even if I couldn’t be Josi, I could be me, I could still be her father.”

            “And you were that and more, Dad. I don’t know where I’d be without you. Even if you couldn’t be Mom, I still needed you, and you were there. You always knew just what to say, how to say it, when to be stern, when to be gentle. You just… you knew exactly what I needed, not what I wanted.”

            Alim chuckled softly as he hugged Alix. “Because you are the ember of your mother’s fire. Wild and yet tame all at once. Though I think you have me to blame. I know if Josi were still here, she’d have just kept adding fuel to that fire until it was just like hers.”

            Alix giggled. “Maybe, but I’m still glad because without you, I wouldn’t be how I am now. You never gave up on me, taught me how to be. I’ll never forget what Mom was for me. I’ll never forget her memory, and how she taught me to be fierce in such a world like this. But it was you that taught me more from there.”

            “Because you are our ember, and I know she’d be proud of you, Alix,” Alim said as he kissed Alix’s forehead.

            Amelie sniffled that stole Alim and Alix’s attention. They looked back at her to see her a red, puffy, teary mess.

            “Amelie, are you ok, dear?”

            “That was absolutely beautiful! Felix! Come to Mum,” Amelie wailed.

            Felix grimaced as he tried to scramble away, but Amelie caught him. She death hugged him as he resigned himself to the affection.

            Adrien looked at Alim and Alix, then Amelie and Felix, before he turned to Gabriel. “Look, Gabriel, I had asked that you were released because I wanted to try again. I’m not saying I forgive you. Not by a long shot just yet, but I want to be a family. You are still my father to some degree. You were trying, and I liked having you in my life. I want you to be in it again, but you need to understand somethings if we are to be that.”

            Gabriel remained silent but stared at Adrien with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

            “First, Alim and Alix are just as much family, if not more. No, wait, definitely more. Alix is my sister and Alim, I’m sorry, has been more of a father to me than you ever could. I won’t be cutting them out, or referring to them in any other way just because you’re back.”

            Gabriel shot Alim the side eye. Alim frowned and flipped off Gabriel. Alix grinned and flipped off Gabriel too.

            “Second, Amelie and Alim are dating, which means Aunt Amelie will be part of this family now. This also includes Felix,” Adrien added.

            Gabriel grimaced as he glanced back at Amelie, who smothered Felix.

            “Finally, it’s going to take a lot of time for me to trust you again. As I said, I haven’t forgiven you for what you did to me. Good intentions or not, it hurt a lot to know you were the one that allowed those monsters to hurt me. It still does, and I-.”

            Adrien was cut off as Plagg, as a black housecat, jumped onto Adrien. Plagg purred loudly as he cozied up to Adrien, who panicked and picked up Plagg. Alix moved and took Plagg from Adrien.

            “You don’t learn your lesson do you, mangy beast?” Alix hissed.

            Plagg growled and hissed back at Alix.

            “R-right, anyway, you get it, right, Gabriel?”

            Gabriel considered, then sighed. “You’ve not left me with much of a choice, Adrien.”

            “Not when you lost custody of him the moment you were taken into custody yourself,” Alim pointed out.

            “Wait, what?” Adrien asked.

            “Sorry, Adrien. We didn’t tell you because of the circumstances of everything, but once Gabriel was taken into custody, custody of you went to Amelie exclusively. Gabriel has no legal authority over you anymore,” Alim explained.

            “That’s right! That means Adrien is as much your son as I am now, Mum. Don’t you think Adrien wants to be loved? He doesn’t have his own mum after all,” Felix pointed out.

            Amelie gasped. “Oh. Oh goodness. You’re right. Come here, darling Adrien.”

            Felix escaped as Amelie smothered Adrien next with affection. Adrien yelped as he reached out for help.

            Alim sighed and separated Amelie from Adrien. “Amelie, take it easy. They’re teen boys, not little kids. They don’t like to be smothered like that from a parent.”

            “But, what can I do to show my love to them?” Amelie asked.

            “I know!” Alix yelled out.

            “Alix,” Alim said sternly.

            “Relax, Dad. Nothing bad, I promise. I just remember that Felix is trying to win Kagami’s heart again, but he’s having trouble. And, he’d never admit it, but he needs help. Perhaps you could give him some tips on how to impress the ladies?”

            Amelie gasped and grinned. “Wonderful idea! That’s exactly what teen boys want, right? Oh, where is he?”

            “Likely in my room.”

            Amelie gave Alix a quick hug before she ran upstairs.

            Alix smirked and looked at Alim. “I get that from you.”

            “Regrettably.”

            Adrien smiled as he looked at Alim and Alix, but it faded as he looked back at Gabriel. “I’ve said my piece, Gabriel. I want you in my life. I want to try one more time, but only if you’re willing to meet me halfway too. Otherwise, I don’t know where there would be room for you in it.”

            “Very well. We’ll see how things go. I’ll try to… well, I’ll try in general.”

            “Thank you. Uh, I guess, yeah, we’ll see how things go. I, uh, I think I’m going to, uh, head out. So, see you later?”

            Gabriel opened his mouth, but Alim cut him off.

            “Go on, Adrien. Go have some fun. Gabriel, I’ll see you to your room and give you a run down of everything. Come along,” Alim said.

            Gabriel shot Alim another side eye before he sighed and followed. Adrien watched them disappear upstairs before he let out a breath of relief. Alix tossed Plagg aside and sat beside Adrien.

            “Hey, you ok?”

            “Yeah. Well, I will be. That… that wasn’t easy.”

            “No, no it wouldn’t, but it’s done, right?”

            “Yeah, I guess.”

            “Hey, why don’t we go see a movie or something, yeah?”

            “Could we invite Nino and some other friends?”

            “Always. C’mon! Let’s see what’s available and get the crew together. Maybe we can go skating, or swimming, or whatever you want.”

            “Yeah. Yeah! Let’s go see what trouble we can get it, right?”

            “Always.”

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