#to be fair I haven’t tried either on so they might not even Be Options

[sweet-as-kiwis]

My friend and I are Officially making plans to see the Barbie movie so I’m tryna figure out an outfit but I DONT OWN ANYTHING PINK AH

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.2

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

The BEAUTIFUL art pieces were done by @clownwry and @elishevart ! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 😭❤️💋

ch.1 - ch.3

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was way more nervous than he was letting on.

She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.

She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.

Ford would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Mabel’s company, but she was practically a stranger, and keeping a random girl in his house that was located in the middle of the woods was fishy and Ford couldn’t help but feel like it was illegal. But he couldn’t leave her out in the snow and send her on her way to find her home and family, so he decided to keep her warm or healthy, simply because it was the right thing to do.

But then she said she had no parents to call. Only a brother, who was lost, too. Ford can remember the old rule: If you’re lost, stay where you are until you are found. So he then decided that she could stay here until her brother found her, which should be by morning at the latest.

Still, he felt uneasy, so once Mabel was settled in front of the TV, Ford excused himself and went into the kitchen to make a phone call. There was only one man who would have better judgement in this situation than him.

The phone rang a few times. Ford checked his watch to make sure it was a reasonable time to call. It wasn’t Sunday, was it? But then the ringing stopped. “Howdy! This here Fiddleford McGucket.”

“Hey there, buddy.” Ford smiled to himself at hearing that cheerful voice. “How have you been?”

“Stanford Pines! Good t’hear from ya!” Fiddleford cheered. “M’just fine, just fine! How are ya?! Ya haven’t gotten eaten by monsters yet, have ya?” He laughed, making his old friend chuckle along.

“No no, I’m alright.” Ford almost brought up the reason he called, but then he remembered something very important to Fiddleford. “How are Emma-May and Tater?”

“OH! They’re doin’ great! We’re all very happy n’ doin’ well! Ya won’t believe how big Tate’s gotten since ya last saw him! He’s already crawlin’!”

“Wow, that's great to hear.” Ford sat in a chair at the kitchen table. “Has he said his first words yet?”

“No, not quite. Actually, he’s extremely quiet. Not a lot of baby-babble.” Fiddleford chuckled. “The doctor says that’s perfectly normal. Tate’s so smart, he’s reachin’ for specific colors n’ such, n’ ya can tell he’s thinkin’ a lot n’ knows what’s goin’ on, he just got nothin’ t’say.”

“I was very shy when I was young.” Ford commented casually. He didn't feel like mentioning why. “If Tate is anything like either of his parents he’s very intelligent.”

“Oh, he’s so much like both of us it’s scary. Ya know Emma-May, so clever n’ quiet n’ such. Tate’s got all that. But he already looks so much like me! But he’s got his mama’s hair! N’ Santy Claus brought ‘im this fun little fishin’ game where ya fish for plastic fish with a pole with a magnet on it, n’ he loves it! I can’t wait to take ‘im fishin’ when he’s big enough! Ya really outta give yourself a break n’ come down for a visit, he’d move to see his Uncle Ford again.”

Ford’s face felt hot. “Perhaps. Spring is when a lot of anomalies are active and breeding, so i would prefer not to miss that, but maybe I could visit for a weekend before that…”

“Well, no pressure, I won’t assume anythang until ya tell me to, just know there’s always a bed for ya here.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford. The same for you and your family. The clean air will do everyone some good.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Fiddleford sighed happily and perked up. “So! Whatcha callin’ for? Not that I’m not happy just t’chat, but ya never call.”

Ford laughed and shrugged to himself. “I suppose I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No need t’be sorry, Stanford, just wanna know what’s up.”

“Well, I was hoping to get your advice on something.”

“Shoot.”

“Um… well…” Ford rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to tell him this. “I heard some unusual sounds outside today…”

“What kind of unusual sounds?”

“Cracks, like lightning. And some faint yelling.” Ford answered. “I thought it might be a tree branch or a new anomaly to catalogue, but when I opened the door a young girl was standing there in the snow with no coat.”

“Heavens! Is she alright?!”

“She’s okay, no frostbite. She was cold, but after sitting by the fire, drinking some hot chocolate, and changing into some dry clothes, she’s okay now.”

“Well, good.”

“So of course I brought her in. I tried to call her parents, she probably got lost playing…”

“Sure.”

“... but she says she doesn’t have any parents.”

“Oh.” Fiddleford sighed. “Oh. Now, wait, are ya sure she didn’t just say that so ya wouldn’t call?”

Ford chuckled and said, “I first thought that too, but she looked too sad to be lying.”

“Okay, I see. Does she got somebody ya can call?”

“She says she has a brother, but he was out there, too. So he is probably out there looking for her and therefore nowhere near a phone.”

“Fair enough, okay. So, I reckon y’all are waitin’ for him t’come ‘round.”

“Yup.”

“Well sounds to me like you’ve handled this all pretty well.” Fiddleford said confidently.

“You think so?” Ford asked. “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m missing something. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Nonsense, buddy, you’re doin’ great.” Fiddleford assured. “Look here, ya can’t just leave a young gurl out in the snow t’try t’find her way home...”

“I agree.”

“... so ya really got one option n’ that’s t’keep an eye on her n’ let her in as a guest. N’ ya tried t’call, but nothin’. The best thang ya can do right now is be there for this lil’lady n’ just be kind t’her. N’ if nobody comes for her by mornin’, why don’t ya go into town n’ see if anybody knows her, then they can help y’all out.”

Ford nodded, then remembered that his best friend couldn’t see it, so he said, “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“You’re welcome. N’ hey, are ya okay?” He asked seriously.

“Yes, yes I’m okay. I just want to make sure I do this right.”

“O’course. I understand. Ya want me t’come down there n’ give a hand?”

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m sure Mabel will find her brother in the morning.”

“Mabel, huh? Well, if y’all don’t, please call me. N’ even if ya do find her brother, call me. Keep me updated.”

“I will. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“Anytime, Stanford.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Mr. Ford gave Mabel the remote for the old TV and went into the kitchen, she decided to use her awesome detective skills to figure out what year it was. If it was before Grunkle Stan lived here and opened the Mystery Shack, she must be pretty far back in time. But she had no way of knowing if it was 1999 or 2005 or the 50s.

The TV was old, but so was Grunkle Stan’s in her time. So Mr. Ford could have had this TV for a long time and didn’t want to replace it. 

Okay, so when was the TV made? Mabel didn’t know. Dipper would have known.

Okay, Grunkle Stan mentioned watching TV when he was a kid once or twice. So at least Mabel was when Stan was a kid, okay. 

Mabel turned the TV on and it was in color. Okay, so she wasn’t too far back in time. But the TV was playing a commercial for clear skin. The picture was gritty and all the people in it had puffy hair and long socks and oh my god was that woman wearing legwarmers?! Mabel grinned at seeing her favorite fashion on TV, but then her face dropped. When was she?

She tapped her chin and tried to think of how to know the date without being suspicious. She could ask Mr. Ford, but that might be suspicious. Mabel decided to start flicking through channels to try to guess what year she was in based on what was airing. A lot of shows were about cowboys, space, or game shows. Huh. Okay.

All the TV shows were definitely older. Nothing her dad would watch from when he was a kid, so if Mabel had to guess by everyone’s crazy air, the cheesy TV shows, and the music occasionally playing, she was in the 70s.

Huh. Okay. But she needed an exact year. So Mabel turned off the TV, saw an old radio on a desk, and turned it on to listen.

“... cuz it’s cold doesn’t mean you can't boogie, folks! So grab someone you wanna get warm with, turn up the music, and get your bodies warm in the coolest way possible! Here’s Night Fever, by the Bee Gees!”

Mabel grinned at the disco music. Her personal favorite song from these guys was More Than a Woman, but Night Fever would do. For a moment Mabel forgot her mission, jumped off the couch and left the blanket behind, and in the over-sized gray t-shirt Mr. Ford gave her while her clothes were drying, she danced along to the music, singing the chorus since those were the only words she knew.

“When you reach out for me. Yeah, and the feelin' is right,

Then I get night fever, night fever. We know how to do it! Gimme that night fever, night fever. We know how to show it!”

Mabel laughed at herself as she spun around in her socks and tried to do the point-and-hype dance she didn’t know the name to, but everyone did it when a disco song played.

Little did she know that Ford had returned to check on her, and was smiling at her as she shook her hips and waved her hair around and had fun. He leaned against the doorway and planned to let her dance in peace, but when she did a spin and saw him, she grinned and took his hand. “C’mon, Mr. Ford, come dance with me!”

Ford chuckled and shook his head. “No, no! I can’t dance!”

“You got two legs that aren’t broken?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can dance! C’mon!” Mabel encouraged, let him go when they were both in the middle of the room, and she started to dance again. “Don’t make me dance alone!” She even pulled an evil move and gave him puppy eyes. Rude.

Ford smiled slyly at her and hesitantly copied her boogie moves. It was true that Ford never liked to dance, but there was no one around but Mabel, and though he had only known her for an hour or more, he was sure she would never make fun of him.

And he was right.

“Wow! Look at you, Mr. I-Can’t-Dance! Yeah!” Mabel hopped on the couch, standing, and took Ford’s hand. “Here, I’ll spin you!”

Ford laughed and allowed it, doing a single spin, but then scooping her in his arms to dip her and then let her down, making her laugh as they continued to dance. 

“Alright alright, you crazy cats, that was Night Fever by the Bee Gees! It's a snowy day here in the heart of Oregon, with snow flurries coming in harder all night, but it should clear up by morning and be a fun day to go out and play! The date is January 26th, 1978 in case you gotta write a check or mail a thank you note to a friend or family member. I’m still writing letters for Christmas! We’ll be right back with some of your favorites after a word or two from our sponsors, so don’t go anywhere!”

Mabel stared at the radio. “Wow, 1978.” She breathed. Her parents were only kids right now, maybe only six or seven-years-old. Wow.

Ford chuckled. “I know, I’m still in the bad habit of writing ‘77.”

Mabel realized her mistake, but was grateful her host misunderstood her. “Me too.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for dinner. How about some ramen noodles?”

“Yes, please! Can we play a game after we eat?”

“Sure. I don’t have many board games, but I do have a deck of cards.”

“Do you know any card tricks?!”

“A few.” Ford admitted, wiggling his fingers. “There are some advantages to having more fingers than average.”

Mabel grinned up at him and followed him to the kitchen for dinner.

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 19

Thank you guys for your patience!  I took a week of vacation to focus on relaxing and catching up on this fic but I’m a wife and a mom so that’s the exact opposite of what happened.  But I’m back now.  I still won’t have daily updates, but it shouldn’t be weeks in between anymore.

Chapter 1     Chapter 18

Marinette looked up at the Wayne Enterprises building, craning her neck in an attempt to see all the way up.  This was only her second time seeing the building up close and it was no less intimidating the second time around.  There was nothing inherently intimidating about the building. It was large and imposing, but that was the only characteristic that would be considered intimidating.

It was more a feeling, an aura, she got from the name, the history, the expectations and obligations that hit her every time she saw the building.  Like something was weighing down on her for just being in its presence.  Something pushing her away and pulling her in at the same time. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her eyes never once leaving the building’s façade.

She almost jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.  “You sure you’re okay with this?” Max asked quietly.  “We don’t have to do this today.”

Marinette shook her head, her eyes still pinned to the building.  “Yes we do. I’ve pushed it off too long already. At this point, I’m getting favoritism by not getting lectured for it.”

Max looked around to make sure nobody was listening.  “If it helps, I don’t think M. Wayne is the type to confront you at work.”

Marinette scoffed and gave him a pointed look. “That is exactly the type of man he is. Confront in a public place where it is likely to create a scene if I say ‘no’ and ask me to speak with him in a more private venue.”

Max gave her a small sympathetic smile.  “Bad time to mention that you appear to have similar approaches to confronting people who are avoiding you?”

Marinette glowered at him, but only slightly.  He wasn’t wrong.  She was usually the one doing the avoiding, but if she had to confront someone who was proving elusive, such as when she had approached M. Fox the first time, it was an approach she would take.  Didn’t mean she liked it.  Either the tactic or the similarity in thinking process… or maybe she did like the similarity.  It was a link to him.  A subconscious, constant, unchanging connection to her biological father.

“I just mean to point out that if you do think alike, then you can anticipate his next moves and plan accordingly.  You can use it to your advantage.  You’re Harry Potter to his Voldemort,” Max offered with a supportive smile.

Marinette blinked a few times before turning to him wide eyed.  “Did you just compare your boss, my biological father, to Voldemort?”

Max’s eyes widened in realization.  “I… no… I… what I meant…”  

He was cut off by Marinette’s laughter.  It took several minutes for the laughter, loud enough to draw the attention and gawking of employees passing them by as they made their way into work, to die down enough for her to eke out words.  “First a snake, now Voldemort.  The man cannot get a break.”  She wiped away the laughing tears from her eyes.  “At least nobody’s compared him to Umbridge yet, so there’s that.”

She finally settled enough to pat Max on the back, her expression still amused, a wide smile on her lips.  “Thank you, Max.  I’ll consider that.”  She turned back to the building and her bright smile dulled until it disappeared.

Max frowned at the change.  He was very familiar with Marinette’s anxiety, it was an integral part of who she was.  It had been since he first met her.  But he had yet to figure out how to get her out of it.  Alya and Adrien were always so good at getting her out of her head. What would they do?  Max stared at her while he tried to remember how Adrien and Alya responded to Marinette’s anxiety spirals.

They had already reached the front steps before he decided however they would respond that wasn’t him.  He pointed out facts then let people make their decisions based on the information. Then they might, or if it were Kim definitely would, make a stupid choice, but at least they had the information beforehand.  “If it helps, M. Wayne used to walk through the department twice a day.  But the last few days he’s only seen him in the afternoon, so I don’t think he will be there this morning.”

Marinette looked down, tapping her fingers together, avoiding his eyes.  She closed her eyes and mentally berated herself.  Why was she still such a coward?  Avoiding her problems as though that had ever made things better for her. Avoiding Luka after they broke up just made him feel terrible and made her feel like a horrible person.  And here she was doing the same thing, like she hadn’t learned a damn thing.  She needed to talk to M. Wayne eventually, she knew that, she just didn’t know what to say or how to make it better yet.

She finally looked up guiltily at Max.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just not ready to see him yet, I haven’t figured out what I want to say, so that does help, knowing I still have time.”  She let out a deep breath and squared her shoulders before making her way to the front door.

They slowly made their way to the elevator, focusing on each other and their path to the elevators, pretending like they didn’t see the people staring at her and whispering to each other.  Once they were alone on the elevator, nobody to overhear their conversation, Max spoke up.  “Maybe,” Max started quietly, “maybe, you don’t need to know what you want to say.  Maybe you should let him say what he wants to say and go from there.”

He looked up at Marinette, a slight furrow in his brow.  “From what you and Adrien said, it sounds like he may have some questions or may want to apologize.  You had the last word, perhaps it would be most appropriate and in spirit of the rules of conversation to allow him the first in the next conversation.”

Marinette nodded at his reasoning.  He was right.  M. Wayne likely had a lot of questions and she hadn’t exactly let him have a say in their last conversation, perhaps it was only fair to allow him to have his say this time.  She gave him a resolute nod and stood up straighter.  “You’re right, Max.  I should let him decide the next steps.  I decided the last ones.”

Max turned and shook his head.  “No.  That is not what I am saying.”  He looked her in the eyes for a moment before looking away and fixing his glasses.  “What I meant to insinuate is it doesn’t have to all be on you.  You don’t have to take responsibility for everything.  There are two people in the conversation, in the relationship.  You don’t have to take responsibility for moving either forward. He is responsible as well.  You shouldn’t take it all on your shoulders.”

Marinette opened her mouth to say something but closed it quickly, not entirely sure what she wanted to say to that.  She was saved from having to respond by the elevator doors opening.  She stepped off and turned to Max with a plastered on smile.  “Ready?”

Max looked down into his bag and raised his eyebrows at Markov as he stepped off the elevator.  Markov displayed down-turned eyes and a frown.  “Right, well,” Max started, much too loudly.  He stood up tall and adjusted his glasses as Markov flew up next to him.  “I promised to show you around the department.  Come on, they’ve made some great progress.  You should see the plans.  You might have insights on the different directions we’ve been considering.”

The tour was short, it wasn’t a large department, but extremely enlightening.  They were already making great progress.  There was a mountain of failed prototypes with in depth analytic reports on their development and why they failed, ways to change it for the next attempt.  There weren’t many employees in the department and they all smiled at Max and Markov as they passed and gave friendly nods. It seemed like nobody was upset that their former head of the department had been ousted and had welcomed Max with open arms.

“Ms. Dupain Cheng,” Lucius called out, making his way off the elevator and toward her and Max.  He smiled warmly at Marinette and clasped her hand between his to shake it.  “It’s been too long.”

Marinette chuckled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “It’s been like three days since we talked.”

Lucius grinned.  His eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint that reminded her of the sweet older men who would come into the bakery and “flirt” innocently with her maman and her when she was older but then wax poetic about their wives, their entire faces brightening when their wives joined them. “Like I said, too long.” He chuckled along with Marinette and backed up a step.  “Thank you for meeting me here.  I trust Mr. Kante and Markov showed you around the department and pointed out your office.”

“They have,” Marinette looked at Max and Markov with a smile.  “It looks like they’re in good hands.  I don’t think I’ve seen Max this giddy since he got a tour of CERN.”

“That is great to hear.  And did he run over the different options we’ve been discussing?” Lucius motioned toward the white board and neatly stacked piles of reports on the tables next to the board.

“He did,” Marinette assured him, her face turning serious as she looked at the piles of reports.

“Very briefly,” Max added.

Marinette kept her eyes focused on the whiteboard, looking over the bullet points of their conversations.  “They are very ambitious plans.  It will certainly be a challenge for designing and a lot to consider.”

“In any way in particular?” Lucius prompted.

Marinette considered his question for a few moments and looked between Max and Lucius.  Max nodded to her.  She nodded back.  “If you're talking about changing the rigidity of the fabric, then I’ll need to consider how that will affect the shape.  If I have it molded to a person's body when it's soft, when it gets stiff it won’t bend the same way, so it’ll lose that shape. I’d have to figure out how to make it still work.  

“We should really discuss intentions for the clothes so I can design appropriately and we can make sure there is a market for the clothes.”  Lucius looked at her curiously.  “How large of a difference are you thinking?  Because the larger the difference, the more difficult to design, but also to wear.  Unless you have some way that you're keeping it in shape regardless of how rigid it is. So you need to figure out if that is an important issue for you or not.  Also, thread.”

“Thread?”  Max blinked a few times

“Thread,” Marinette repeated with a curt nod.  “The thread I use on say silk is a lot more delicate than the thread I use on jeans or leather.  Those materials are stiffer and harder and need thicker thread to hold them.  But I can't use thicker thread on things like silk because it weighs the fabric down too much and ruins the shape, so you need to think about the thread.  It needs to be something that can work with delicate fabric but will still hold without breaking when the fabric changes.

“Also color.  If you are going to change the fabric color, then the thread will likely have to change as well.”  She looked between the two men.  Max was staring toward the white board with the algorithms on it in contemplation. Lucius pursed his lips as he looked at the desk.  Marinette rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.  “But that’s just off the top of my head.  I can come up with more insightful once I’ve had more time to think.”

“That is quite a lot to consider,” Lucius nodded, finally looking back at her.  “Those are important points we hadn’t yet considered but will have to be incorporated immediately.  Thank you. I would very much like to discuss this further, but with more of the project involved and give you time to review some materials.  Would you be available on Monday?  That should give us and you time to prepare to discuss the options.”

Marinette frowned and pulled out her phone to see her calendar.  “That should work.”  She scoffed and waved her phone helplessly.  “I pull this out like I’ve been putting anything in my calendar on it.  We’re in Metropolis this weekend.  I should be back by Monday.”

“Monday it is,” Lucius agreed.  “Now that that is settled, I’d like to talk about logistics, setup, and ask a few questions up in my office.”  

Marinette’s smile immediately dropped.  She froze, her eyes widening.  “Oh… um…  That sounds…”

Lucius looked around the room to see who was looking their way and who might be listening in.  He lowered his voice until only she and Markov could her and leaned slightly closer.  “Mr. Wayne hasn’t been in before noon the last few days.  I happen to know he has asked his PA to reschedule his morning appointments for today as well.”  He shrugged and leaned back, keeping his voice low.  “No real importance to that information just that there’s nobody up there with whom I can drink tea and it is about tea time for me.”

Marinette let out a small breath and gave him a grateful smile.  “Thank you. I’d love tea.”

Lucius motioned toward the elevators.  “Shall we?”  He fell into step beside her.  “We assume you won’t spend much time in your office, but it is fully equipped in case you would like to use it or split your time.”

“Thank you,” Marinette nodded lightly.  “I haven’t decided what I want to do yet.” She looked up at him uncertainly. “Or what the contract would allow.”

Lucius grinned as he walked off the elevator on the executive floor.  “It is a partnership with a designer, not employment.  You are working with us, not for us.  As long as we can contact you and get the fabric to you, we will allow whatever you need, Ms. Dupain Cheng.”  He nodded to Bruce’s PA.

“Mr. Fox,” Bruce’s PA called out.  “I wanted to double check that the new time works for your meeting today with Mr. Wayne.”

“Yes, Mr. Cortland.  The new time is fine.  I’ll be in my office for a bit.  Can you send someone to bring in some tea for us please?”  Mr. Cortland nodded and sat back down, picking up the phone to make the arrangements.  Lucius opened his office door and motioned for Marinette to enter.  After she had taken a seat at the small conference room Lucius watched her with a concerned look for a few seconds.  “So is the trip to Metropolis for business or pleasure?”

“A bit of both,” she smiled at him.  “Metropolis is one of the places we’re considering moving to so we want to look around and see if it’s some place we would like to live. Really, it’s just touring around the city.”

“You’re still deciding on where you want to live then,” he noted.

Marinette started to respond but paused when a man came in with a tray with a tea kettle and cups.  She thanked him and waited until he’d left before speaking more about her plans.  “We’re still thinking, yes.  We’re not extremely excited to live in New York.  Honestly, I think if we like Metropolis well enough this weekend, we might make the decision.  Assuming Adrien gets offered the position he applied for, which I am.”

Lucius nodded as he took a sip of tea.  He quirked his head to the side as he considered her answer.  “Metropolis is certainly more manageable than other options, workwise, I mean.  We could still have some in person meetings. Getting fabric to you would definitely be easier than say Paris, but we can push off making a decision on the logistics on that.  Until then, let’s make sure you have access to the network.  We’ll talk to Mr. Cortland about it when we’re done with our tea.”

Marinette smiled at him and took a sip of her tea. Lucius watched her for a moment, drinking more of his tea as well.  “You know,” he started slowly, “Metropolis is close enough, you could choose to live between there and Gotham and be close enough for both of you to commute, him to Metropolis and you to Gotham… if you wanted to base your company here.”

Marinette froze momentarily, her lips perched on the edge of her teacup.  She set the cup back down without taking a drink.  She stared at drink for a few seconds before shaking her head.  “I don’t think basing my operation in Gotham is a good idea,” she said quietly.  She looked up at him with a smile and immediately looked away.  The smile was supposed to be confident, quirky, not shaky. She took a moment to breathe and refocus.

“I’m trying to build my own brand without depending on M. Wayne.  I’m going to face enough criticism and skepticism as it is without setting up my company ten feet from his.”  She looked back at Lucius with a steely resolve.  “I’ll finish my contract to the best of my ability.  I’ll work with you in the future, not doing so would be business suicide, but I think a little bit of space might be good… for us both.”

Lucius gave her an understanding look.  He knew something had happened.  There was a reason Bruce was no longer coming in in the mornings and looked like Tim after a research bender when he finally did come in, like he had been up all night protecting someone.  But he had also seen Tim’s reactions to him, the disappointed, frustrated, annoyed looks and passive aggressive comments about communication. All of which means Bruce was brooding and not talking to Marinette about it.

He swirled the tea in his cup.  “You know, Bruce takes protecting those around him very seriously.  He’s lost so much and is terrified of losing more.  He’d give everything he has, everything he is, to protect someone he loves. But he also takes on all the guilt when he failed.”

Marinette sighed deeply and looked away, her eyes suddenly desolate.  “He told you about dinner,” she said quietly.

Lucius frowned at the implications of her statement. He’d guessed Bruce had started brooding because of the Riddler incident, but clearly there was something more going on. “No.  I didn’t know about dinner, I just know Bruce.  I know his guilty brooding.  I also know Tim and his disappointed anger at Bruce.”  He leaned in closer toward her conspiratorially despite her not looking at him, hoping it would still get a smile out of her.  “I’ve seen it a lot.”

He leaned back with a gentle smile.  “So I don’t know what happened, but I know Bruce feels like he failed you.  Which means he’s afraid of saying or doing something to make it worse, so he’s probably avoiding you, which is probably making it worse.”  He faced her with a frown.  “Because the worst thing in his mind is hurting you.”

Marinette continued staring at the cityscape outside the window and took a long sip of her tea.  “That’s an awfully proper and long winded way to say ‘he had a reason for being an asshole and you should excuse him for it.’”

“Well, I do strive to be proper,” Lucius chuckled mirthlessly.  “But I never said you should excuse him for it.  I suppose it's something that the rest of us have learned to accept about him.  We put up with it, but that doesn't mean you have to.”

“The problem is…” she quirked her lips as she sought the words to properly express her thoughts, “everyone keeps explaining why he acts the way he does as though that makes it okay, as though there’s some obligation on me because of it.  Like understanding it means I have to build a great relationship despite it.  But… there has to be trust somewhere in there too, doesn’t there?  Understanding, compassion, those are supposed to go both ways, aren’t they?  Everyone’s asking me to be more understanding, more forgiving, but nobody’s asking the same of him.  It isn’t supposed to be the job of the child to do all the work.”

“He does get asked to do that.  You don’t see it, but he is getting asked.  I assure you his other children are making their positions clear,” Lucius assured her softly.  “And I assure you he knows he isn’t doing what he should, but he is trying.”

Marinette scoffed.  “He’s shit at it.”  She took a long sip and watched some birds flying outside the window.

“I don’t disagree.”  Lucius fought keeping the amused tone out of his voice, but it was a hard fight.  “This whole situation is filled with everyone trying to do the right thing but failing… constantly, talking past each other, working past each other, sacrificing parts of yourselves thinking it will help, but it really just hurting everyone. It’s a comedy of errors.”

“Except it’s real life, and in real life it isn’t so funny,” Marinette whispered.  She stood up and moved to the window, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.

“No, it isn’t,” Lucius agreed softly.  He quietly rose up and stood next to her at the window, keeping his gaze focused outside the building.  “Real life is work.  Real life is hard.  Real life hurts.  Real life is less than ideal almost always.  This situation isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t have to be abysmal either. You can choose to make the best of it.”

“But what’s the best that this situation can be?” Her voice was so quiet Lucius almost didn’t hear it.

“That is up to you and Bruce to decide.”

“It’s not just us though, is it?” she noted quietly.

“This part is,” Lucius assured her.  “This part is just between you two.  Your relationship with your siblings is separate and you can work that part out with them.  One doesn’t have to affect the other.”  He chuckled lightly, his eyes unfocusing slightly as he remembered something.  “The other children have proved that well enough.”

She looked out to the skyline again, letting his words settle in, considering what they meant and if she believed them.  “How do you forget?  How do you move on?”

Lucius shook his head gently.  “Moving on isn’t about forgetting.  It’s about learning and adapting.”

Marinette finally looked over at him, her eyes pleading, looking more lost than he had seen her look before.  “But what’s my lesson?  What is it I’m supposed to learn here?”

Lucius’ lips turned up into a sympathetic smile. He laid a hand on her shoulder.  “I can’t answer that.”

She shook her head and looked out the window again. “Because the only thing I see so far is that I shouldn’t trust M. Wayne.  That I’m never going to be…” she sighed heavily and looked down.  She took another deep breath and looked back up.  “Weren’t there setup issues we had to resolve?”

Lucius stared at her for a few seconds, compassion shining in his eyes.  “Yes we do,” he nodded lightly allowing her to change the subject.  He patted her on the back and encouraged her toward the door. “Let’s get you in the system so you have access to the building and a secure email.  We’ll order a laptop for you too so you can access the documents on the network.”

“Mr. Cortland,” he called out.  “Can you get Ms. Dupain Cheng set up with a secure laptop with access to the network and the basic programs installed, please?  And request an email for her.”

“Of course, sir,” David nodded to Lucius and started typing.

“Did you say Dupain Cheng,” a new voice spoke up. Marinette picked up on the excitement and interest in his voice with extreme apprehension.  Marinette whipped around to the new voice.  She looked over to Lucius to see how he responded.  Her shoulders relaxed when she saw his easy smile.

“Mr. Dowd,” he held his hand out to him, “it’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Mr. Dowd gave him a bright smile. Marinette stared at him curiously. He was about her age and was too excited and happy to be an employee.  Not that the Wayne Enterprises employees she’d come across so far hadn’t seemed happy or excited about their projects, but they had a professional demeanor that Mr. Dowd didn’t seem to share.  “It’s always good to see you.  How’s Luke?”  He looked between the two of them though his eyes lingered on Marinette as if waiting until it was polite to start talking with her.

Lucius chuckled.  “He’s doing well.  He is supposed to come visit next weekend.  I’d like to say it’s because of me, but I believe he has a date or two planned with Ms. Gordon.  But let me introduce you to Ms. Dupain Cheng.”  He motioned to Marinette.  “Mr. Dowd, this is Ms. Dupain Cheng.  Ms. Dupain Cheng, this is Mr. Dowd.”

Bernard rolled his eyes.  “Please call me Bernard.  I’m Tim’s boyfriend.  It’s really nice to meet you.  I’ve heard a lot of great things about you.”  He held his hand out to her.

Marinette immediately relaxed and shook it.  That explained the excitement and interest. It wasn’t a random person wanting a scoop on the Wayne family, it was someone wanting to get to know his boyfriend’s family.  “It’s really nice to meet you.  I didn’t even know Tim was dating.”  Her eyes widened immediately.  “Not that he doesn’t talk about you!  I just haven’t had the chance to really talk to him yet.”

Bernard smiled at her for a few seconds.  He shifted back and forth on his feet awkwardly. Marinette opened her mouth to tell him she had to get back to work when Bernard spoke up.  “Hey, Tim and I were going to get lunch in his office.  Want to join us?  We were just ordering from the cafeteria because he has a meeting scheduled in like an hour.  We can add something for you.”

Marinette looked over to Lucius anxiously.  Lucius smiled at her and nodded in understanding. “We don’t have much more to finish, just waiting for the laptop to arrive.  There’s no reason for you to sit around and wait.  Go ahead.”

Marinette’s eyes widened.  That wasn’t what she wanted him to understand!  That wasn’t what she was trying to communicate to him. She hadn’t had really talked to Tim and every time they were close he froze up or got so tense she swore he was going to give himself a headache.  Spending time with him and his boyfriend while he acted like everything was okay wasn’t going to end well for either one of them.  She narrowed her eyes at Lucius.  She honestly wasn’t sure if he misunderstood the source of her anxiety or if he knew what it was from the start and decided to ignore it.

Marinette turned to Bernard with a forced smile but it relaxed into a soft smile when she saw how excited he was to spend time with her. “That sounds really nice.  Thank you, Bernard.  Please call me Marinette.”

“Awesome, Marinette,” Bernard’s grin was a brilliant as Adrien’s and Marinette couldn’t suppress the giggle that came out.  He led her toward Tim’s office.  “By the end of the day, I’m going to get you to let me call you Mari.  That’s the new goal for the day.”

Marinette tried unsuccessfully to suppress a snort. “And what was the old goal?”

“Prove the Miraculous team in France are actually fae,” he answered with conviction.  He looked over at her, his face somehow becoming even brighter.  “Hey, you’re from Paris, right?  Maybe you can help answer some questions for me.  This is perfect.”

Marinette stared at him wide eyed, frozen in place until Bernard looped his arm around hers and gently pulled her toward Tim’s office. Marinette chuckled and shook her head. She needed to record this conversation. Alya was going to die laughing.

Chapter 20

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark @nerd-nowandforever

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (10/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: A case brings you back to Cat Adams - and there’s a lot she has to say.

Warnings: angst, be prepared

Word Count: 1.9k 

A/N: I’m sorry it took so long and it’s so short, but.i tried really hard. hope you enjoy. gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

Annoyed, you slap the steering wheel with the flat of your hand as if it will magically make the traffic jam in front of you disappear.

Ever since you ended the friendship between Spencer and you, the universe seems to want to punish you. First, a pipe broke in your apartment, flooding your bathroom. Apparently, it was fixed so well that two days later, suddenly no water arrived in your apartment, right when you were in the shower. Yesterday morning, none of your three alarm clocks rang, which is why you were way late for work.

And now you've been stuck in traffic for about an hour, and even though all the lights are green, you're not moving forward at all. You are lucky that you left an hour earlier than usual today and apparently you had a good nose. In the next few days you would leave nothing to chance.

The only positive thing about your bad luck is that all the stress doesn't leave you any time to think about Spencer, and since he's currently still teaching and not on BAU, you don't have to see him either. You wouldn't be able to stand wanting to be close to him without being able to. Even though it was your choice to turn away from him. But that doesn't mean it's any less painful.

When you finally get to the office, you head straight to the round table where everyone is already waiting for you. Even Spencer is sitting at his seat, and as your eyes meet, your blood freezes in your veins. What is he doing here? Did you miscount the days he wasn't supposed to be here? Or are you just unlucky again?

Emily stands next to Penelope next to the screen. In her hand she holds a file that looks very familiar. "Top secret" is written on it, and the fact that you're all here now - even Spencer - is definitely not a good sign. "Married men have been found dead in several states," she begins to speak, and Penelope shows the crime scene images on the screen. "They were always shot at close range."

"Seems personal", JJ says.

"What about the wives?", asks Tara. "Were they unhappy marriages?"

As the team speculates, you look more closely at the photos on your tablet. One of the men is wearing an expensive watch; another has a black American Express in his wallet.All of the men are dressed fancier, as if they had been on a date, but apparently not with their own wives, because they all had water-tight alibis.  Something about this case feels eerily familiar.

You take a look at the family pictures that had been sent to you. Some of the men had children, others didn't, but they all lived very luxuriously. Big houses, several cars. Bigwigs. Their lives seemed perfect. Maybe a little too perfect.

"So the killer is targeting rich, married men?", speaks up Luke. "But why these particular men? There are no connections between them, and I doubt they were chosen at random."

It wasn't random, you add in thought. Somewhere in your brain synapses link and it lays on the tip of your tongue, but you can't name it. The thought is like an itch you can't get rid of and you'd love to rip the hair off your head, it bothers you so much.

"Who throws themselves at married men only to kill them?", asks Matt. "An avenging angel who kills cheaters?"

You glance at the bank statements, and the scales fall from your eyes. Running a hand through your hair, you look first at Emily, who gives you a knowing look before casting a furtive glance in Spencer's direction. But he's already looking at you. Is he thinking the same thing you are? Has he figured it out, too? Does Emily know? Is that why she called him in?

"That's impossible", Spencer says without taking his eyes off you. The team looks at him before their questioning gazes move to you. Apparently, they haven't figured it out yet. "She's in jail."

You interlace your fingers in your lap so they don't see how much you're shaking. Just the thought of it makes you shudder. "It has to be a copycat", you return, to which Spencer's eyes narrow.

"Who are you talking about?", JJ asks, putting her hand on his arm, but he's so focused on you that he doesn't even notice.

Emily clears her throat and everyone looks to her except for Spencer and you. "Cat Adams."

-

"I talked to the warden", Emily says when you're in her office. She stands leaning against her desk while Spencer and JJ face her. You've taken the seat on the couch against the wall, elbows propped on your knees, foot bobbing up and down.

Really bad. Really, really bad.

"Adams is ready to talk. But only with you, Spencer."Though her words are directed at him, her gaze is calmly on you. Apparently, she wants to make sure you don't throw up on the floor.  You can't promise her. "In twenty minutes, you'll be flying out. As soon as the three of you find out anything, I want to be informed immediately."

Spencer's whole body tenses, but he doesn't respond. The two of them leave the office while you stay behind. Emily sits down next to you on the couch and grabs your hands.

"I'd rather you didn't go with them, Y/N," she begins. "But I'm afraid you have to go with them. You know why."

You look at her, her expression concerned, and you'd like to hug her as an assurance that everything would be okay. "It just doesn't make things any easier, unfortunately."

During the flight, no one speaks a word. You each turn your attention to other things to calm yourselves. JJ watches videos on her phone, Spencer reads a book about astronomy, and you close your eyes, trying not to think too much, but each time you do, you see her face.

The streak of bad luck continues to haunt you.

The warden takes you straight to the interrogation room. He says something, but you don't listen to him. You're far too preoccupied with the fact that everything could go to hell in a minute. To say you're scared would be an understatement.

The three of you stand in front of the glass, allowing you to peer into the room. Cat Adams looks worse than you imagined. Her hair hangs stringy and disheveled from her head, there are jet-black shadows under her eyes, and her overall appearance could be straight out of a horror movie.

"Are you okay, Spence?" asks JJ, but Spencer doesn't answer. "Take all the time you need. No one is forcing you to talk to her right now."

"The longer I don't talk to her, the more potential victims there are," he replies coolly and firmly, looking to his blonde friend. There's a hardness in his gaze that's only been directed at you lately. So that's how much he despises you. He puts you on the same level as a man-killing psychopath.

He squeezes JJ's hand before giving you a quick look that says more than a thousand words could. Then he opens the door and enters the interrogation room. Spencer sits down across from Cat at the table and folds his hands on the table.

"Spencie. It's been a long time."At the sound of her voice and nickname, Spencer barely flinches, and you want to flee.  But even if you could-you wouldn't let Spencer go through this alone. No matter what might come.

"It could have been a lot longer."

Cat leans back in her chair, relaxed, and looks at him. "Your hair has gotten longer. It suits you very well."

"Thanks." You can't see his face, but you're pretty sure he's raising an eyebrow. "We're not here to exchange pleasantries or compliments, though."

She nods curtly. "That's right. From what I hear, there's someone running around outside who gets as much pleasure out of killing married men as I do." She bites her lower lip, which makes her look even crazier than she already does. "I never thought there'd be a copycat of me. It's kind of cool, though. I have to admit."

"Do you know anything about that?" Spencer's voice is cold. Apparently he wants to get out of there as fast as he can, and you can't blame him.

Cat's gaze moves from Spencer's face to his hands. Slowly, she reaches across the table and untangles his fingers so she can look at his left hand. "From what I can see, you're not wearing a wedding ring at all, Spencie. What happened to your fiancée?"

You inhale sharply, and JJ's hand rubs your arm reassuringly for a moment. It was only a matter of time before she asked, but secretly you hoped she wouldn't.

Spencer's back muscles tighten under his dark blue shirt. "She left me when I got arrested."

Cat can't help but grin, and you'd love to punch her right in the face. "I'd say I'm sorry about that, but it's not like we're lying to each other." She plays with his fingers like it's the most normal thing in the world. "Must have been pretty hard for you."

"It wasn't easy."

"And you haven't heard from her since." It's more of a question than a statement. When Spencer doesn't answer, she drops his fingers. Her expression darkens abruptly. Your heart slips into your pants. "Right?"

Please don't say anything. Don't go into it.

"I'm not here to talk about her or me", he finally replies, and you can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. JJ looks at you in confusion, and a faint smile creeps onto your lips. But your moment of relief is short-lived, because Cat doesn't seem to want to give in.

"I want answers as much as you do, Spencie.  If you give me some, I'll give you some. A fair trade," she grins, leaning back in her chair again, arms crossed in front of her chest. "So?"

"She came back a few weeks ago", he replies coolly, and Cat's eyes widen as if she really wasn't expecting it.

"Oh, no. Really?" Again she leans forward, so curious is she. "And what did she say? Did she apologize? Or told you the reason she left?" Her grin is so wide it almost reaches her ears. It makes you want to throw up.

"She said she didn't love me anymore."

"And you just believed her?" She shakes her head, but waits for no response. "I thought you were a better profiler, Spencie. After all, you cracked me. You should have realized something was up."

"What do you mean, something's up?" he asks.

Your whole body tenses with panic, but inside you're screaming, pleading, and a small part of you is sinking into a black hole right now.

"At least one thing she stuck to." Cat's grin is false, and sly and insidious as she speaks. "She didn't tell you about our deal?"

next part

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[astaroth1357]

"Hi kinda new. I don't know if this is where requests go, but if you haven't done it yet can I request an MC sneaking into the boys beds?" ~irenethehotdog

The MC Sneaks Into the Brothers' Beds While They're Asleep

@irenethehotdog don’t worry, I found ya anyway. 😁 Sooo there was a kind of tender way I could have played this… but then there was a funny way. I hope you're alright that I went with the funny way. 😅 I got two bed requests that are kind of similar-ish but how I’m interpreting them makes them just different enough to warrant two different asks. Here's the first one!

Check out my Masterlist for more!

Warning: Comical nudity? Is that NSFW-ish?

Intro:

Sometimes everybody needs a little comfort, especially in the middle of the night. Any number of things could have drawn the MC out of their bed: bad dreams, nagging thoughts, just general fear of the darkness of Hell that surrounded them, but they decided to try to soothe their unease with the company of their demonic housemates! Wonder how that turned out for them..?

Lucifer

I mean, if you’re feeling a little alone at night, maybe a little scared, it would only be natural to want to seek solace with the strongest person in the nearest vicinity, right? ...Right?

To say it was maybe ill-advised to just climb into bed with Lucifer would be an understatement… Frankly, if the enchantments he had on his door weren’t specifically meant for Mammon then they might have ended up in a very compromised position. But somehow, they managed to infiltrate the demon’s private sanctuary and get right up to his bed.

Now, Lucifer is not a heavy sleeper. Not at all. He’s grown pretty accustomed to waking up at all hours of the night because of his brother’s antics, so he felt the shifting weight on his mattress almost instantly.

They probably weren’t expecting him to suddenly jerk upright and spin towards them, fireball in hand ready to lob at their face... but that’s what they got.

After realizing that it was just the human and not Mammon coming in to take his stuff again, he made them sit down in front of his fireplace while he gave them a looong lecture about personal boundaries and how it’s really not smart to sneak up on demons like that… 

But he was still sympathetic to their sleep-deprived state so he offered them some tea and Devildom sleep remedies in hopes of getting them back to bed. ...Just not his. Back to your bed with you, MC.

Mammon

Mammon was their “babysitter.” Their protector. Their guardian. So why wouldn’t they want to go to him on a difficult night?

Getting into Mammon’s bed was hardly a challenge, sure they had to tiptoe through the garbage heap that made up his bedroom floor but it wasn’t Mission Impossible or anything…

What did catch them off guard was just how… not clothed he felt after they slid in under his covers. Like, pretty much wearing nothing at all. Not even a pair of courtesy boxers. 😓

It was their squeal as they flung themselves out of the bed that actually woke Mammon up. They had him ripping the covers off, ready to leap into action and everything, which definitely didn’t help matters. (Or maybe it did, depending on your point of view 🤷‍♀️).

Both parties pretty much turned into a cursing/blushing mess as he shot them embarrassed, rapid-fire questions while desperately trying to pull on some sweats. Meanwhile the MC stayed plastered up against the wall of his bedroom, answering him in equally defensive shouts.

Eventually, their fuss woke up Lucifer who was quick to send both of them back to their respective beds. The House teased them mercilessly for weeks… How were they supposed to know Mammon slept naked??

Leviathan

Levi might be a… strange choice for bedmate at first glance (he doesn’t really even sleep in bed, but a tub hardly meant for two people). However, there’s a certain level of approachability to him, isn’t there? Considering his own struggles with anxiety, maybe they thought he could relate…?

They tried knocking on his door first, thinking he might have been gaming, but there was no answer. When they walked in and found the otaku actually asleep for once, it seemed like their wishes might have actually been granted!

...But then came the actual trouble of trying to get into bed with Levi to start with. There wasn’t really an easy way to squeeze their body in past his because the tub was so dang narrow…

Any rational person might have just given up on the venture, but not MC. Whatever's possessed them to want to sleep with this awkward shut-in has a pretty good hold on them yet.

Lack of sleep might have been what gave them the bright idea to just try and lay on top of Levi veeerrry sooooftlllly…. Which is how the poor demon woke up to them halfway straddling his waist in the middle of the night.

His remarkably high-pitched scream woke up the whole dang House and the sheer amount of force he used when trying to jerk out of the tub toppled it over… Even after many apologies (and a trip to go buy a new tub), Levi still double locks his door at night to this day… 😓

Satan

Really an odd choice there, not going to lie. They’re well aware of the possibility that they could accidentally wake him and he maaaay not be the best waker (what being Wrath and all) but if it’s irrational worries that got you down, why not go to the most rational person in the House? Sounds like a perfectly logical decision, right?

That might have been what their half-baked disillusions were telling them on the way to Satan's bedroom but actually standing in front of the sleeping man was a whole other story. They felt crazy, genuinely crazy… But they still slipped in under the covers anyway.

Satan stirred almost immediately and turned to face them… but his eyes could hardly keep focus and the look of dopey confusion on his face could have honestly made the perfect screen background. "Huuuuuh…? MC…? What're you doin' 'ere…?"

They kind of had to hold in a laugh while they explained that they just wanted to sleep next to him that night. Satan beamed them an oddly serene smile and just nodded. "Okaaay…" With that he seemed to roll over to go back to sleep… but his mind caught back up with him before his drowsiness did.

"Wait a minute..." Ah shit….

 Like Lucifer, Satan ended up giving them a pretty good lecture on boundaries and the like when he finally snapped out of his stupor. Thankfully he wasn't mad, just a little embarrassed that they had seen him like that. He offered them a good book or two to pass the time if they couldn't sleep, but sent them back to bed all the same.

Asmodeus

Asmo probably doesn’t get people coming into his bed with completely chaste intentions very often, but he’s by far the most emotionally in-tuned demon in the House. If they're after a little sympathy, best just go to Asmo right?

They weren't really sure what to expect when they walked into his room... Does Asmo sleep like a Disney Princess, hair and makeup done perfectly in defiance of all laws of beauty?

Does he sleep like a '60s housewife, with curlers in his hair and leftover chips of mud mask on his face?

Does he sleep like the god of all sex that he is, sculpted chest for the eyes to see and everything underneath laid bare like a honeypot of temptation??

The MC doesn't really get to know, because when they pulled back the covers to climb inside they were met by the sight of someone else's very naked ass taking up the spot where they thought Asmo should be.

They go back to their room willingly, dejected and maybe a little scarred... Apparently they were just too late to the party...

Beelzebub

Okay, everything about Beel screams “Hello! I’m a warm comforting teddy bear!”...aside from the hungry parts. It’s really not hard to see why they’d want to go to him if they’re feeling a little vulnerable.

They didn't worry too much about being quiet when they walked into the twins' room. Belphie could sleep through a rock concert and Beel wasn't too far behind him (as long as he wasn't hungry).

They figured that the tall twin wouldn't mind too much if they just crawled into bed with him… He had make a similar request of them before, it was only fair right?

As they were preparing their tired body for a good night's sleep, they gently pulled the covers back next to Beel but they probably weren't expecting to find so many food wrappers surrounding him… or bags of chips… or packages of cookies… or-

Apparently Beel had yet another sleep-eating run and this time he seemed to have brought the whole kitchen back with him. There was hardly enough room left for Beel anymore, let alone the MC!

Considering their options were to either wedge themselves between a havoc roast and a bag of jerky or just brave one more night on their own, they cut their losses early and went back to their own bed...

Belphegor

They didn’t have to know Belphie since Day One of being there to pick up on how hard he slept. The man was pretty much in a coma for most of the day and that included his nightly rests too. Would he even notice if they… per say… slipped into bed with him to get a little comfort from their nightmares? Surely, he’d stay asleep, right?

When they didn't see his sleeping form in the room he shared with Beel, the MC eventually found Belphie up in the attic room. His little hideaway with a plush-ass bed to boot.

They didn’t bother being quiet at all. They figured that Belphie could have stayed under for anything short of banging pots and pans in his ears so why try to mask their footsteps?

They never expected him to be awake. 😰

The moment they lifted the covers, Belphie struck like some kind of blanket crocodile! He grabbed them by the waist and dragged them into the spot of the bed right under him with a impish grin on his face.

Turns out they weren't the only ones having sleeping problems that night and as they felt the full weight of his worn out body settle in nicely up against theirs they knew that maybe, finally, they'd get a good night's sleep… 🤭

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Revision.

Commissioned by the very lovely @pyrokittyowo.

Pairing: Yandere!Simeon/Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 2.2k.

TW: Past Trauma, Toxic Relationships, Codependency, Infantilization, Isolation, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Manipulation, Gaslighting.

The sun never sets in the Celestial Realm.

It’s less whimsical than it sounds, to be fair. Sleep is a luxury for angels, a way to pass time for the young and the injured, but that hadn't been something Simeon thought to tell you when you first arrived, as you tried to follow his mangled, irregular cycle of rest and work. You’d gotten the hang of it with time, carved out your own routine and forced yourself to follow it, but you’d be lying if you said you were completely used to it. It was grating, if anything, just how bright all of it was, the shine only amplified by the ivory and gold angels seemed so fond of. It was overwhelming, really. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve called it unbearable.

But, you did know better. This realm was warm, but not stifling, not half as oppressive as the Devildom had been. It didn’t have the same constant chill, a pervasive darkness only made worse by the humid air and that invasive metallic scent, like stone and rock and the blood that must've been soaked into the cracks of both. The darkness was worse. All of it was worse, but you tried to keep your mind on the landscape, the starless sky, the bleakness you’d slowly grown to hate.

If you let yourself think about anything else, you’d have to think about the people you’d met, the brothers, the way they’d looked at you. You’d have to remember how tight Mammon’s grip had been, the first time he took you by the wrist rather than the hand, or how dull Beelzebub's fangs were and how much it hurt when he drove them into your skin, your chest, the sensitive area just below your collarbone that never failed to bleed, when it bit down. You’d have to think about how Lucifer’s hand felt as it wrapped around your neck, the sound of your own failing breath, the way he’d laughed as you—

You inhaled sharply, cutting yourself off before you could get any more lost in the memory.

Because that’s what it was – just a memory. Something you’d never have to worry about again, thanks to Simeon.

Still, you were allowed to complain. Even indoors, perched in one of the many bay windows spotted around Simeon’s sizable chambers, you could feel the unyielding sun, notice the light start to eat away at your vision like a hungry, gnawing parasite. There were clouds in the sky, perfect wisps of nothing, but they'd been their since the day you first arrived, fixed features on an unchanging canvas. They wouldn't move. You already knew that. Nothing moved in the Celestial Realm, not unless it had a reason to.

And yet, you found yourself opening your mouth regardless, asking the question that’d been playing on your tongue all day. You could let yourself have this. You could hope that were wrong. It wasn't like this would be the first time. “It doesn’t rain here, does it?”

Immediately, there was a hum from across the room, one of the many soft sounds Simeon seemed to be so fond of. You should’ve been glad he was there to answer at all, really. Simeon spent most of the day tending to his vague responsibilities. If he had time to sit around, pouring over a scroll in a language you couldn’t recognize, it must’ve meant it was either too early in the morning or too late at night for him to be bothered with anything else. You couldn’t be sure which, not when the two were so impossible to tell apart. “Rarely,” He replied, still distracted. “Michael tries not to leave the weather up to chance. If he needed a storm, I’d be able to tell you weeks in advance.”

You almost felt bad for him. You would’ve hated it, knowing everything long before it actually happened, but you doubted Simeon would ever let himself be so careless. “I don’t know how I’d stay sane,” You admitted, your gaze moving back to the window. A white dove had landed on the edge of Simeon’s windowsill, meticulously sorting through bleached feathers with its pointed beak, and idly, you wondered if the animals bothered to regulate themselves, too. “You wouldn't like my hometown. Couldn’t see the sky most days, and when you could, it was nearly too hot to go outside. Never stopped it from snowing a month before winter, though.” You paused, letting yourself smile at the thought. You missed it; you weren’t going to try to deny that. You were still allowed to miss things. “Luke would probably love it. Say what you want about humans, but we've never gotten a bakery wrong.”

Simeon didn’t hum, this time. The silence couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but your heart still found a way to tighten in your chest, stopping completely as you heard his chair scrape against the floor, sharp footsteps following the noise immediately. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, and he was kind enough not to force you to, brushing off your avoidance as he positioned himself on the opposite side of your small shelter. It wasn't much of an improvement, though. If he'd just let himself be a little more cruel, you might've had the pleasure of hating him for it.

“You’re thinking about the human world again.”

He was getting straight to the point. You couldn’t say you weren’t thankful.

“How can I not?” You tried to laugh, but it came out strained, out of place against his sober expression. “I haven’t been home in a year. I’m bound to want to go back, eventually.”

“You know it’s not safe.” It was a familiar mantra, one you should’ve been numb to, but it still found a way to hurt, to linger, accumulate into a small, aching knot in the back of your throat as you reminded yourself that he was only doing it because he cared. That was all – he cared. He didn’t want to see you get hurt, not again. He didn’t want to see you face anything more harmful than his clumsy comfort, even if he did have a strange way of showing it. “We’ve talked about this before, (Y/n). It’s still too early to tell if Lucifer left any lasting damage. There could still be a tracking spell I haven’t discovered yet, or worse.” There was a pause, and a gloved hand came to rest on your knee. You could’ve mouthed the words, as he said them. “I can keep you safe here, but your world is neutral territory. I might not be able to stop him, if he and his brothers tried to take you away.”

You hated the way he said it. Part of you, a persistent minority, still wanted to think this was all a misunderstanding, a result of crossed wires and mixed messages and the kind of miscommunications that only ever led to such awful things. You knew it was unhealthy, to try to tint your own memories with such a forgiving light, but that didn't help you smother the temptation to believe all the soft, pleasant encouragements Asmodeus had whispered in your ear as his brothers lived out their distorted, carnal fantasies. Whatever Simeon was trying to do, it certainly wasn’t helping, either.

“I’ll be careful,” You tried, slouching against the glass. It was warm to the touch, a feeling you savored under his cold gaze. “It’d be a day trip, at most. Just a few hours. I…” He was wearing the silk gloves, today, soft and smooth as he raised his hand, cupping your cheek without a trace of hesitation. You trailed off instantly, still unused to the gentleness. “I just want to see my family, that’s all. Even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

“You’re bored of me, now?” It was supposed to be playful, the question accompanied by a light chuckle, but you still shook your head, leaning into his palm as you went on. “I can’t say I blame you. I know I’m not one for company, but if you’re dying for entertainment, I can see what—”

“It’s not just that.” You should've let him finish, but it was already too late to stop yourself. You didn’t want to stop yourself, if you were being honest. You just wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere different, a place where the sky didn’t hurt to look at and the sun wasn’t so willing to punish you for existing. You wanted to be able to step outside without worrying whether or not your angelic hosts still thought you were worthy of their concern. You didn’t want this, anymore, even if it was the better option. “I’m just tired, Simeon. I’m tired of being here, I’m tired of running, and I just want to go home—”

There was a small huff, a sharp crack. By the time you realized what happed, by the time that sudden acidic sting faded into a steady throb, his thumb was already digging into your jaw, your head forcibly tilted back in such a way that made it so you had to look at him. You couldn’t avoid the softened anger in his eyes, or the stiffness in his posture, or that tight, unignorable scowl. He was disappointed, and he wanted you to know you were the reason why. He was mad at you, and you’d done everything to earn it.

When he spoke, he did so slowly. Like he was talking to a child who hadn’t quite come to terms with reality, just yet. “I’ve taken care of you, haven’t I?”

“You have.” There was no point trying to deny it. If it hadn’t been for Simeon, you’d still be rotting in that hellscape, subject to the whims of a family of monsters. He'd saved you. He'd helped you escape, and you had to be thankful for that. “I just don’t know if I can—”

“And you care about me, right? You don’t want to see me worry?”

You hesitated, but your answer was inevitable “Of course.”

“And you do remember the last thing Belphie said to you, don’t you? What he did to send you running to me?” He let himself smile, despite the nature of the question. “I could barely understand you back then, with the crying and all. Honestly, I almost didn't notice you were begging me to save you.” It was easy to forget how Simeon could be, when he knew he was right. Most of the time, his confidence was comforting, a gentle reminder that you could trust him, that you should trust him. Right now, it just made you feel weak. “What was it, again? C’mon, love, you can tell me, can’t you?”

You could. Objectively, you could, if you tried to. You could force your mouth to make the words, you could shut your eyes and let Simeon guide you through it, and you could tell yourself they were just memories, that you were somewhere else now, that you were somewhere better, but…

But, you really, really didn’t want to, and you couldn’t convince yourself you did.

If you did, you’d have to remember how tightly Belphegor had held your hand, as he said it, his fingers intertwined with yours and his grip strong enough to leave your palm bruised, after he pulled away. You’d have to think about the small smile he wore, the hatred in his half-lidded eyes, the chill that'd run down your spine as he hid his face in the crook of your shoulder and told you that, if you ever tried to leave him, if he ever had to share you with anyone beyond the six exceptions he was already making, he’d kill you. It was as simple as that.

If he ever saw you again, he’d kill you.

You were safe, here. You were safe in the Celestial Realm, you were safe with Simeon, but you still found yourself choking on the words, your throat going dry as your shoulders pitched forward, a bolt of something frozen striking your chest before you could ward it off. You couldn't be sure why something so distant would make you cry, but you could feel it coming on – hot tears welling in your eyes, blurring your vision, threatening to spill over and strip you of what little pride you had left, but Simeon only wiped them away, as doting as he always was. As loving as he always was, even when you took his patience for granted. Even when you hesitated to lean into him, as he pulled you into his chest, urging you to hide your face and treat him like the pillar of support he was so clearly trying to be. Even when you didn't deserve it, when you didn't deserve him, when you didn't deserve any of this, not when he was kind enough to pretend he didn't know that just as well as you.

“Poor little thing.” He was humming, now, his tone teetering on the line between carelessness and comfort. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, not in the moment, not when it was all you could do to muffle your hitched sobs into small, pathetic whimpers. “It’s nothing to blame yourself for. You just need a little help.” Another pause, elongated and purposeful. Sadistic, in only because he had to try so hard not to be. “You just need someone to protect you. It’s only human.”

It was all you could do to nod, to agree, as mindlessly as you were capable of. You didn’t want to think. You didn’t want to risk remembering something you shouldn’t.

Instead, you just focused on the sunlight streaming the nearest window, how it felt as it hit you.

How, wherever your skin made contact with Simeon’s, it seemed to grow just a little more insufferable than it had been, a second ago.

[ayybtch]

Bread

Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader, Baker!AU + Friends to Lovers

Chapter 5 of Made With Love

Word Count: 3,292

Chapter Warnings: Our two favorite idiots are so blind it’s not even funny, lots of yearning, some brief mentions of alcohol consumption towards the end

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for being patient with me on getting this posted. School and work have been crazy, but I’m almost done for the semester so hopefully it won't be as long for the next update. Shout out to my Grandma for sending me her paprikash recipe so I would actually know what I was talking about for this chapter. We literally never speak but she did me a real solid on this one and I will be adding paprikash into my regular cooking schedule once fall hits. Full disclosure though, I literally Googled “What wine pairs with chicken paprikash” and the wines mentioned are what it gave me. Please let me know what you think! I love reading your guys’s comments, it really makes my day.

Hey, so everyone is going to be out on a mission tomorrow night except for me. Any chance I can cash in on that raincheck? There’s a Bewitched marathon happening.

You smiled at Wanda’s message, quickly typing out your response. Definitely! Would you like to join me for bread day tomorrow?

She responded almost immediately. YES!

You couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. She had been wanting to make bread ever since the two of you made snickerdoodles. She brought it up almost constantly, mostly as a joke to get back at you for all of the times you teased her about it.

Up to this point, Wanda refused to accept any of your attempts to say thank you for helping you out through the cupcake debacle, saying that this was the sort of thing that friends were for. It only felt right that this should be the next thing to bake as your own special way of saying thank you.

As excited as you were to spend time with her and teach her how to do this, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly nervous at the same time. Why had Wanda decided to share her sexuality with you after all this time?

Okay, scratch that. You understood why she shared it with you when she did. The real question is what to do with the information now that you had it.

Was it just a general knowledge sort of a deal? Or was this her way of trying to say she was interested?

You groaned and put your head in your hands. This is why you hadn’t dated someone since your last relationship ended. You needed big flashing lights that screamed “I want to date you!” before you’d catch on, and even that didn’t work sometimes. If someone tried to be subtle, you were an absolute lost cause. You did your best to recall every interaction you had with Wanda that could even remotely be considered as her flirting or expressing interest.

She did smile at you a lot, even more than she smiled at Sam and Bucky who she clearly adored. She also certainly didn’t shy away from physical contact and had even initiated it several times. She had also remembered your coffee and bagel order from the one random time it came up weeks ago...

Suddenly, everything started to add up. All of those glances that had left your heart racing, all of those little touches...maybe Wanda was interested in you?

Your heart felt ready to burst out of your chest with joy.

Wanda didn’t arrive at the bakery until almost noon. The majority of the bread had been baked already; the only bread left to make was hers.

The two of you said your hello’s and caught up a bit as she stepped in to put on her apron and began washing her hands. Once the conversation slowed, you started your rundown for today’s bake.

“Bread is actually a lot easier than it looks but there are a couple of points we’re going to need to be careful at. I’ll remind you about them as we go about but I figured it would be good to have them all in your head now.

“We’re going to be very conscientious about temperatures this entire bake in a way we haven’t really needed to before. When we’re dealing with the yeast, we need the milk around 110 to 115o so the yeast activates properly. We also want things to be warm during the rise times, which shouldn’t be too much of an issue given the ovens have been on most of the day. Once it’s in the oven, we aren’t going to mess with it at all until the last couple minutes and that’s only if we need it to brown further.”

Wanda nodded along as you spoke. “I don’t know how much of an actual problem this is because you’re here, but I always hear a lot about overworking or underworking the dough. How do I know if it’s been kneaded enough?”

“Ah, good question! If the dough keeps getting really flat and not holding its shape, it’s underworked. If the dough is overworked, it gets kind of hard and not easy to work with. The good news is that we’re kneading by hand since it’s your first time and it’s a lot less likely to happen that way than in a mixer.”

She looked unconvinced but nodded. “Okay, so where do we begin?”

The first fifteen minutes of the bake flew by quickly. The yeast mixture had been prepared and was almost ready for the rest of the ingredients to be mixed in. Wanda was completely in awe at how the mixture looked.

To be fair to her though, the yeast mixture does look very weird if you’re not used to seeing it.

Once the flour, salt, and eggs were mixed in, the true fun began. Everything was mixed just enough to be combined into a rough, sticky ball of dough before being taken out of the mixer and onto the floured counter. Wanda followed along as you sprinkled some flour on your dough and began to knead, doing her best to mirror your motions.

You watched her out of the corner of your eye as you worked the dough, waiting to see what she would do. It was hard to hold back your giggles as you watched her. She was practically just squeezing the dough in different directions. You gave her a few minutes to see if she would work things out, but eventually, you set your dough down and moved closer to her.

“Here, let me help,” you said. Your hands moved so they were on top of hers, you tried guiding her through the motions, only for things to fail miserably.

“Okay, can I try something that might be a little weird? It’s just that I’m not used to kneading at an angle like that so it’s throwing off my muscle memory.”

She nodded and you adjusted yourself so you were now standing behind her. Your arms slid around either side of her waist and your hands rested on top of hers. This time, your hands knew what they were doing and you were able to help guide her through the motion. Even after she got it, you remained standing behind her, your chin resting against her shoulder.

The feelings that washed over you as you stood there with her were hard to describe. There was nothing necessarily comfortable about the position you were in, but your whole body felt more relaxed than it had all day. At the same time though, everything felt electrifying. You hoped she couldn’t feel the way your heart was thumping against your chest.

It wasn’t until you realized Wanda had paused and turned back slightly to face you slightly that you stepped back. An apology rose up in your throat only to die as you noticed the small smile on her face. You shot a smile back at her before moving back to your spot, turning your attention back to the job at hand.

The rest of the bake went smoothly, despite Wanda’s fretting about if the bread was rising enough. It didn’t take long before you had two perfectly round loaves of bread sitting next to each other on the cooling rack. Wanda had not stopped smiling since they came out of the oven. Even though that was her usual response, this time felt different.

For the second time that day, you were left trying to describe impossible feelings. Was it her eyes that felt different? They were lit beautifully, radiating so much joy it was impossible to not feel just as excited. But how was that any different from usual? Her eyes always captivated you and left you breathless. Maybe it was the new shade of pink lipstick she had on. It was perfectly accentuating the shape of her lips, to the point you couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to feel them pressed against yours.

You may not be able to pinpoint what the look was, all you knew is that you were grateful to be a part of why her smile was so big.

After she finished taking pictures of the loaves, she turned to you. “That was incredible! I had no idea bread could be that simple.”

You nodded along, unable to hold back a smile. “I told you it wasn’t too bad, there are just a couple spots you have to be sure to navigate well. And clearly -” you gestured towards the loaves, “- you did. Maybe I should start worrying about you stealing my job.”

Her laughter filled the kitchen at your teasing.

As her laugher began to die out, her focus turned back on to you. “Okay, so what time were you thinking of coming over? I’m making us dinner and want to try and have it finishing up right around the time you get there.”

You glanced over at the clock and then back to the to-do list written out on the whiteboard above your desk before answering, “I think it’ll probably be close to five if I had to guess. I still have to finish cleaning some stuff here and I promised to go help Charlie work out some menu options for that picnic thing that’s coming up.”

Wanda nodded along, “Are you going to that?”

“I’m working it, so I, unfortunately, don’t have much of a choice.”

She nodded again. “Same here, actually. All of the Avengers are required to be unless there’s some sort of alien invasion again or something…” She trailed off a moment before continuing. “I was planning on making paprikash. Is that okay with you? I don’t know if there’s anything you can’t or don’t like to eat.”

“I’ve actually never had that before so that would be wonderful! I’m pretty easy when it comes to food. The only things I don’t like are mushrooms and zucchini, but I’ll still eat them if I have to.”

Wanda gasped, “You don’t like mushrooms? How do you not like mushrooms?”

You just shrugged, “Okay, I’m actually pretty neutral on mushrooms. I’ll still eat them. I just don’t go out of my way to make them for myself. Zucchini is a firm no, though.”

She gave you a side-eye but relented. “Well, there are no mushrooms or zucchini in this, but just know I’m going to have to keep an eye on you from now on. I don’t know how we’ve made it this far into our friendship without me knowing you’re an anti-mushroom heathen.”

The two of you joked around for a few minutes longer before she left to start preparing for dinner.

Planning the menu with Charlie didn’t take very long, which you were grateful for. He already had a decent idea of what he wanted to do, so the main thing left was to figure out how much food to order to prepare it. The two of you also agreed upon what you needed to make. Most of your responsibilities centered around desserts, specifically pies, though you agreed to make some fresh rolls and soft pretzels as well.

You were thankful for the meeting to end though because it meant the remaining time you had left could be spent getting ready to go see Wanda.

‘Getting ready’ was perhaps a bit dramatic. You were just changing out of your usual work clothes into something a little cuter. It was nothing particularly fancy, but it was an outfit you felt both confident and comfortable in. You had also made sure to pack some toiletries that morning, allowing you to freshen up your deodorant and brush your teeth as well.

As you stepped into the elevator and pressed the button, you couldn’t help but feel a bit jittery. The past few times you’ve made your way to that part of the building you’ve been nervous about the other Avengers not wanting you there. This time though, all of your nerves could be attributed entirely to Wanda. You weren’t sure what to expect of tonight, but you were determined to have a fun night filled with food and good company.

The warm smell of paprika filled the air and made your stomach grumble as soon as you stepped out of the elevator. Once you were inside, you found Wanda in the kitchen, stirring in some additional seasonings.

“This smells incredible,” you said, setting the two loaves of bread down on the counter.

Wanda beamed. “Thanks! This is my great grandmother’s recipe and is one of my favorite things to make.” As she set the spoon down, she walked towards the fridge. “I bought some wine to go along with dinner if you would like some.”

“Yes please, wine sounds amazing right now.”

“I have a chardonnay and a Barolo, which would you prefer?” she asked, turning back towards you.

You shrugged, “Whichever one you want.”

She nodded and pulled out the Barolo. It didn’t take long for the bottle to be opened and to have a glass of wine in your hand.

It wasn’t until you took your first sip that you realized Wanda had also changed. Your breathing hitched as you looked her up and down. Gone were her jeans and old T-shirts, replaced by a pair of cut-off shorts and a stylishly oversized T-shirt. If it weren’t for the fuzzy wool socks on her feet, you’d assume she was camera-ready. Hell, even with the funny socks she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.

You realized you were staring and abruptly began looking around the kitchen, trying to find something to do that would take your mind off of how hot Wanda looked. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Wanda shook her head no. “There’s not really anything to be done, this just needs to simmer for about another five minutes and we’ll be good to go. Why don’t you go have a seat at the table and I’ll be over in just a moment with some bread slices and butter. Once this is ready I’ll bring it in as well.”

You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen and towards the table.

It wasn’t until you were seated that you realized how well the table was set. Both seats had beautiful flatware laid out, with silverware organized neatly to the side. Underneath was a crisp, pure white table cloth. What caught your attention the most though were the two lit candles sitting between your chair and hers. It wasn’t until you noticed the candles that you also noticed the music playing softly in the background.

Everything about the setup screamed ‘fancy first date’.

Before you had much of a chance to dwell on the thought, Wanda arrived with several slices of bread and a small dish of butter. You thanked her before she walked back towards the kitchen. She returned soon after with the pot of paprikash, setting it on the hot pad in the center of the table. She walked around to her seat and soon both of you had your plates filled and began to eat.

It was impossible to hold back a satisfied sigh as you took your first bite. It tasted just as delicious, if not better than it smelled. The chicken was cooked perfectly and all but melted in your mouth. The paprika added a nice rich flavor and added extra depth to the creaminess of the sauce.

“Wanda this is incredible.”

She smiled at you brightly, “If you think it’s good by itself, try dipping the bread with some butter in it.”

You did as she said and this time instead of a satisfied sigh, you let out a satisfied moan. “You are going to have to give me this recipe. This is so good I don’t even know what to say, all I want to do is keep eating.”

Wanda laughed at your enthusiasm. “Tell you what, I’ll teach you how to make it sometime. It’s about time I taught you something in the kitchen.”

Dinner was a blast. The two of you spent more of it laughing and talking than eating. The bottle of Barolo was finished before dinner was done. It didn’t take long before it was replaced by the chardonnay.

Once dinner was over, you fought Wanda to let you help clean up the kitchen. Her argument that guests shouldn’t help was shot down as you pointed out she’s technically a guest in the bakery, yet she always helps clean up after she’s been in there. She grumbled about it but quickly conceded. It didn’t take long for the kitchen to be cleaned up and even less time after that for her to drag you over to the couch.

The first-ever episode of “Bewitched” was halfway finished by the time the two of you had settled into your spots on the couch. Currently, Samantha and Darrin were at his ex-girlfriend's house for a dinner party and the girlfriend was doing everything she could to make Samantha feel inferior. Samantha, of course, wasn’t having it and was willing to fudge her promises of not using magic to level the playing field.

Wanda laughed along perfectly in time with the sitcom track. The more she laughed, the more your attention turned from being on the TV to be on her. This was the most relaxed and happy you had ever seen her. She had a small, almost imperceivable smile that grew as she became more and more emerged into the episode. Each time she laughed, you noticed how her nose would scrunch up in the cutest way and it took everything you had to not lean over and kiss her.

What you wouldn’t give to make her as happy as this show.

It wasn’t until the end credits were about to roll that you forced yourself to look back at the screen, unsure of how she’d respond if she caught you staring.

As the next episode cued up, she reached out and grabbed her glass of wine before turning to face you.“So, what do you think? Could I have been a Samantha in another life?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Definitely, though I can’t see you being willing to hide your powers just because a man wants you to.”

Wanda nearly choked on the sip of wine she had taken. “You got me there.”

She finished the glass and set it back on the table before letting out a loud yawn. “Sorry, I probably should’ve warned you beforehand that wine makes me a little sleepy.” She paused for a moment before she continued, “It also makes me incredibly cuddly…”

A rush of emotions washed over you as you processed her words. Was she asking to come cuddle with you?

The hopeful look in her eye suggested she was.

Pure, unadulterated joy swept over your body and you had to fight the urge to jump up and down from excitement. You did your best to collect yourself before you replied, hoping that the answer was indeed what you were looking for.

“Is that your way of asking if you can come snuggle?”

She smiled at you sheepishly, which made you laugh. You moved over on the couch, moving around some of the throw pillows so you could lay down.

“Well, what are you waiting for then?”

Wanda didn’t hesitate for a moment and soon was laying on top of you, her head resting on your chest. One of your arms wrapped loosely around her back after she settled in.

A comfortable silence fell over you as you laid there together, watching Bewitched until you fell asleep.

[even-after-a-millennia]

Falling into a New Life

For @nilefreemanweek2021 and the alternative prompt Canon Divergent AU! Andy doesn’t get to the base in time, and Nile is on the plane to Germany and tests.  When she dreams Andy calling Booker, what happens when Nile calls the same number?  You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here. Gen | Rated T | ~2.1k

“Corporal Freeman,” the soldier’s voice cut through her music and brief moment of peace.  “Been looking for you.  Wheels up on your ride.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. 

She felt a tightening in her gut, one that got worse as she flew away from base towards Germany.  Towards more tests.  Something was rubbing her the wrong way about all of this.

She hadn’t slept well since waking up in that hospital bed, so despite her nerves, she began to doze as the hours ticked by. 

“She’s just a baby,” she heard a woman say, looking down at a sketch of Nile’s own face.

“Damn it!”  A fist crashing into the side of a Humvee as a plane, the plane Nile was on right now, took off into the sky.

Numbers were being punched into the phone, then dialing.  “Book, I didn’t get here in time.  Word is she is being sent for more testing and you know what they will find.  You have to cut them off.  Get to her before they find out.”

The man closed his flip phone, turning to the other two men on the train.

“We need to get to Germany,” he said.

The plane rattled side to side and Nile woke, looking around frantically.

What was that?  A dream?  A vision?

She scrambled through her pockets, grabbing her notepad and writing down the numbers before she could forget them.  Pulling out her phone, she looked furtively around the vast open area, but aside from her, the only other people on the plane were the two soldiers who had escorted her to the plane, sitting near the cockpit, and the pilots.

If she called this number and someone picked up, she would know she wasn’t crazy.  And if no one did… then maybe it was a good thing that she was being carted off for testing.

Nile hit dial before she could stop herself.

It rang twice before a slightly accented voice answered, “Hello?  Who is this?”

“What the fuck…” she whispered, pulling the phone away to stare at it.  The call had connected, the seconds ticking by.  She pressed it back against her ear, shaking her head slowly.

“Is this the Marine?” the man continued.

“Yeah,” she answered, her voice rough.  

There was a rustle, then a different voice was speaking, “Can you tell us your name?”

A voice in the back of her mind was yelling about strangers and danger, but she didn’t think that the talks adults gave her as a child ever could have anticipated this.

“Nile,” she forced herself to say.  “Corporal Nile Freeman.  Who are you?”

“We’re like you, Nile,” a heavier accented voice said.  “We want to help you, but first, you have to help yourself.  You cannot get tested by those men.  It will lead to something much worse.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, keeping her voice low to avoid the other soldiers hearing.

“You have to get off that plane, Nile,” the second voice said.  “We will come and find you, we swear.”

“That’s insane,” she hissed.

“Welcome to the world of coming back from the dead,” the first voice said sardonically.

Holy shit.

That’s what had happened, wasn’t it?  She had felt herself die.  Dizzy had seen it.  Everyone thought she was gone.  They had even taken her dog tags to send to her family.

But then she had come back.

“Shit,” she whispered.

She looked around the plane and spotted the jump door and parachutes.

“No, this isn’t happening.  This is some bullshit.  Is this hazing or something?  Is this fun for you?” Nile demanded.

“Nile, please,” the heavily accented voice said.  There was so much emotion in his tone she stopped.  “Please, you are not safe.  I know you are scared and alone.  But they will do horrible things if they discover you can regenerate.  A jump off a plane is much better than an eternity in a cage.”

“I can’t go AWOL,” Nile said.  “My family-  I can’t do that to them.”

“Corporal Freeman!” One of the men who had brought her to the plane said, approaching.  “I need to take your phone.”

She lowered it without hanging up, alarms ringing in her head.  “What, why?” 

“Protocol for testing.  Could interfere with the machines.”

And he could be telling the truth, but the voices on the other end of the phone were getting desperate even though she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Are we that close?” she asked, buying time.

He shrugged.  “Somewhere over Ukraine.”

“I’d like to give it to you closer to Germany, sir,” she said, trying to toe the line of defiance and deference.

“Orders are orders,” he said, reaching for it and this didn’t feel right, something was so wrong about this whole thing.

“NILE!” the voices on the phone shouted all at once, loud enough it reached her ear.

She ducked his grab and undid her seatbelt, sliding away from him.

He looked at her, considering.  “C’mon, kid.  Don’t make me break out the restraints.”

She stared at him.  “What the fuck?!” she finally said, putting her phone in her back pocket.  “Nah, nope.  Come and get it.”

He swung at her and she ducked it and hit him in the ribs.  He let out a grunt and bent over.  She grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into her knee, hearing a crack as he groaned in pain.  He stayed down, clutching his nose.

“Hey!”  The other guard had gotten up from his seat at the struggle and she turned to face him, trying to keep one eye on the other man.  

The man took out his gun and pointed it at her.  “You are under arrest for assaulting a superior officer.”

She raised her hands slowly.  “In fairness, he started it,” she felt compelled to say.

He didn’t think she was funny.  

“Stay still,” he said, taking a pair of cuffs out of his tac belt.  

Nile looked at them apprehensively, because those were not standard to have for soldiers in her division, and so why the hell did he have them?!

She stood still, weighing her options.  He holstered his gun, holding the cuffs in his other hand.  She watched him until he was close enough to strike.  She knocked the cuffs out of his hand and they flew down the plane.  He tried to punch her but she parried it and went to dislocate his shoulder, but he kicked out and caught her in the knee.  There was a crack and a searing pain, and she cried out, but kept fighting.

He drew his gun again and they grappled over it.  She knew that she was losing the battle with one leg out of the game and pain fogging her mind.

His finger reached the trigger.

She felt the bullet go through her side and her whole body went momentarily numb as it was overloaded with pain.  Nile fell to the ground, clutching her side.

The guard holstered his weapon and went to check on his buddy and get the cuffs.  Nile breathed through the pain and then paused.

Something was going on with her leg.

She looked down as much as she could without using her stomach muscles that were still screaming and watched as her knee popped back into place, no longer inverted.

Her side started to hurt less, and she lifted her shirt to see the skin that the bullet had torn through slowly knit back together.

Regenerate.  That’s what the man on the phone had called it.

Shit.

She pulled out her phone and spoke over the voices on the other side, “I’m jumping.  We’re somewhere over Ukraine.  I have your number.”

Then she hung up and put her phone in her zippered pocket, got up and ran at the parachutes and hit the button that opened the jump door.

“Corporal!  Don’t do it!”  

She looked back as she shouldered the parachute and clamped it into place.  The soldiers were reaching out to her, trying to get to her in time.

Nile jumped.

She fell, waiting until she was well away from the plane to pull the pin to activate the parachute.

Nothing happened.

“Shit!” she said, trying to pull the backup, but it didn’t budge.

Had they purposefully put dud parachutes in the plane?  Was this some kind of test?  Or had this been a terrible coincidence?

She kept falling, spreading her arms and legs to slow her descent as much as possible.  She forced herself to look down, scope out the area below her.  There was a lake in the middle of a field, and she angled herself towards it, gritting her teeth.  Neither option was good, but with no trees in sight to cushion her fall, she would splat either way.  At least the water would eventually mask her blood.

Nile really hoped that she could actually come back from the dead, cause it didn’t look like she was going to survive this.

The water got closer and she forced her feet below her so at least she wouldn’t meet it head first.  She tucked her arms close to her sides and felt herself shoot downwards faster than before.

She concluded, just before she hit the water, that any fall where she could think about how long she had been falling was too damn long.

Then everything was black.

The three men hopped off the train.

“She’s off the plane, haven’t heard anything since,” the blond said over the phone.  “Said she was somewhere over Ukraine.”

The woman sighed on the other end.  “Fine.  We’ll meet in the middle and find her.  Deal?”

“See you soon, boss,” the man said, hanging up.

“At least we will be able to keep Copley off our tail,” the man with a head of curls said.

“We will still need to go after him eventually,” the blond said.  “He knows about us.”

“Nile first,” the man with the heavy accent and kind eyes said.

Nile gasped awake and immediately coughed up water.  She was floating on top of the lake now, the waters around her red.  She groaned as her body slowly knitted itself back together again, bones and organs recovering from hitting water so fast it felt like concrete.

“Ow,” she concluded once the last shift was done.

She turned her head, looking for the closest bit of shore, and starting off towards it.

It took a lot of effort to drag her waterlogged body onto the sand.  She lay on her back, staring up at the sky for a moment.  

Then she reached for her phone, only to find it cracked and even more waterlogged than she was.

“Shit!”

She pocketed it anyway, because she might still be able to recover the memory chip, even if the rest of it was worthless now.

Okay.  Priorities.

Nile was still wearing her uniform, as wet and bloodstained as it was.  She shucked off the long sleeve shirt of her uniform and surveyed the damage to the short sleeve brown shirt beneath.  The cold water of the lake had washed away much of the blood that had been saturated in it, but she took it off and scrubbed a bit more, just to get as much as she could out.

There was still a hole where she had been shot, but she would deal with that if it came to it.

She found a large rock and tied her shirt around it.  

Then paused.  Rested her head against the rock and the uniform she was about to toss away.

She had been a Marine, like her dad before her.  It hadn’t been an easy decision to join, not with how it had ended for her dad, the imperialism that was steeped into the US military, or the fact that she was a black woman and that would affect her entire experience.  But it had been her life, her brothers and sisters in arms had been her family, and she felt like once she heaved this rock into the water, she would be irreversibly throwing that part of her life away too.

She breathed.  Then she lifted the rock and with a grunt, sent it flying through the air.  There was a large splash and it sank, taking her uniform with it.

Nile watched it go, her throat burning with emotions she couldn’t even name.

Then she turned to find the others who could regenerate like her.

[windblooms]

childe scenario – after the golden house

you, an ex-fatui executive, decide against your better judgment and tend to the wounds of the near-dead 11th harbinger following his duel at the golden house.  spoilers for the 1.1 archon quest.

gender-neutral reader.  enemies to lovers  soft spot syndrome.  sfw, but contains mentions of blood/injury.  also childe briefly in foul legacy armor.  canon-divergence.  2669 words (nice).  

with the fatui’s nails so deep into the city, staying in liyue probably wasn’t your brightest idea in retrospect.  

you blame your sentimentality of liyue on the exact same thing that caused you to leave the fatui in the first place: wanting to live without fear.  while the fatui treated you well enough, as you were considerably efficient in your ranks, being part of a partially underground, partially illegal business wasn’t exactly the most liberating practice either.  it didn’t take long for you to realize that, behind their scheming and pretenses of fair economics, the fatui would have their underlings wound so incredibly tight around their fingers that their violent tasks would rapidly become suffocating. 

that is, once you were in the fatui, getting out would be akin to scaling qingyun peak with one arm tied behind your back.

the only reason you were able to?  because you ran.  you were desperate for a new life, sure, but also you weren’t below realizing when something was out of the question.  it took a few months to shake them off your trail, having to move constantly between fontaine and mondstadt, but you finally settled in liyue.

it was a quiet, peaceful city.  the governing body was fair enough with its jurisdictions, and after a year of hiding, you were able to enjoy the lantern rite festival without fear.

that is, until the northland bank sat its obnoxious ass down the street.

archons, really, once you found a place you thought was safe enough, you’d have to start moving again.  initially, you reasoned that it had been over a year, and that the fatui surely wouldn’t go hunting for a runaway executive.  hell, you weren’t even that high on the ladder.  however, a few run-ins with scaramouche and pulcinella had left you paranoid enough that, if they spotted you, they would surely put an end to your traitorism. 

honestly, you should’ve ratted them out to the knights of favonius while you were in mondstadt.  make a quick bargain, have jean toss a few coins your way, and you would be set.  it would’ve definitely been worth the trouble, now with the knowledge that the fatui were your neighbors.  

now, there’s no time to dwell on what you could’ve done.  it’s either run again, or hold your ground right under the fatui’s nose.  you might, sort of, maybe, probably do not have the funds to move for the third time in a row, but maybe counting couldn’t hurt –

no, yeah, it hurts, you grimace as you slide the coin bag back in your bedside drawer.  outside, it’s dark, and the sky seems a bit more disturbed than usual.  it isn’t usually overcast in liyue, and the blue lightning does nothing to quell your unease.  the streets are also empty, but lights illuminate each building.

from your window, a quick glance towards the northland bank reveals to you that it is uncharacteristically dark.  no lanterns, no lights.  you frown, troubled that the individuals you were so alert to monitoring, had a lifeless stronghold.  not typical of them at all. 

so, you decide while your long-time enemies are plotting (or whatever they’re doing that prompts them to close an entire bank for), now might be the best time to potentially make a run for it, light coin bag be damned.

hastily, you rid your apartment of personal belongings by unceremoniously shoving them into your bag.  if it’s one thing you were grateful for in this world, it’s archon magic.  you don’t fuss over the science behind it, but whatever made your bag feel like a bottomless pit was an actual life-saver.  packing is extremely efficient with it, and in less than fifteen minutes, you’re ready to go.

all that’s left is to write a thank-you note to the liyuen couple who let you stay while their son was out exorcising.  at the time, they assured you that you would be no trouble for you to take up a guest room, but nonetheless you tried to pay them with whatever you had left over after commissions.

you grab a writing utensil, still feeling a bit rude to leave on such short notice, and swear to yourself that you’ll visit in the future.  for good measure (after sullenly looking into your coin bag), you leave an acceptable(-ish) amount of mora on your former bed.

all right.  now, time to leave, with your foot out the door and wind scratching at your face, as if the odd overhead weather wasn’t already an omen.

you’re barely past liyue harbor, headed towards the luhua pools, when a comet shoots above you past mount tianheng.  no, not a comet, you realize as it dips from the sky, headed for landfall around a kilometer away.  a comet of water?

if a dead northland bank wasn’t the nail in the coffin, this surely is.  you’ve been around enough in the fatui to know that whatever fell from the sky has to be the work of a vision user, or some more powerful being.  turning towards where you estimate to be the crash site, you weigh your options.  you’re already outside of the city, and the fatui are probably preoccupied.  you can manage a detour for now and inspect the hydro-apparition.  regardless, you deem that the farther away you are from the water you are, the safer you might be from what’s about to happen – you look back towards liyue harbor, and nearly shudder at the rising tide and choppy waves. 

after about fifteen minutes of walking in the rain, you find yourself between the slope of the dunyu ruins and mount tianheng.  it’s vacant, save for the weathered ruins, and a sizable crater meters wide.  cautiously, you approach the edge, summoning your sword with one hand and conjuring your vision in the other.  you’re not going to let curiosity kill the cat, especially not if this turns out to be a prank by the archons.

in the center of the mess is, well, another mess.  you blink a few times, wary, as you discern that an individual lies in the rubble.  they’re actually conscious, you soon find out, as they righten themselves from the fetal position into a kneel, supporting their body weight with their arms.  their body is covered head-to-foot in dark, purple armor, and a red mask with a broken, center orb gleams faintly in the night.

it is only when you the individual looks up at you, straight at your head, do you realize that you should not be here this was a bad idea –

and then they collapse.

“shit,” you murmur to yourself, vision still pulsing in your palm, which has become increasingly sweaty.  you step back from the edge as an orb of water surrounds the armored-being, encasing him like a cocoon, before dissipating to reveal a much more vulnerable, tired man underneath.  his hair is matted to his face from the rain, yet a much smaller mask rests on his eyes; his clothes are somewhat torn (you suspect that whatever had happened, his armor absorbed most of the damage), and you can very faintly see his chest heave. 

but, ah, speaking of his clothes,

they were the colors of the fatui.

“no, no, bad idea,” you tell yourself over and over again, sword put away yet vision still bouncing in your hands.  you walk away from the crater briefly, before walking towards it again, peaking down to check on the fallen man, and then scamper back.  the whole idea was to run away, not go straight to them, as if you had managed to doom yourself after all.  

pacing back and forth, you contemplate for another minute.  he’s clearly injured, with how he’s laying on the ground and not moving, so the nice, not-so-hardened part of you wants to help him.  if he was a regular civilian, surely you’d already be down there and trying to take him back to liyue and patch him up, but he’s with the enemy.  no way someone who can transform into armor is just an underling, so he’s probably someone exceptionally powerful –

“i see you,” a voice comes from the crater, and your vision nearly explodes in your hands from your nerves.  summoning your sword quicker than you ever have in your life, you steel yourself towards the bottom of the crater.

except, he’s not holding a weapon to your face, or threatening to skewer you into a million pieces.  except, he’s not scowling at you, or demanding you assist him at once before he blows something up.

instead, he’s on his knees.  looking up at you with the desperation of a man completely robbed, crippled from something he can’t speak of yet wants to scream about.  his eyes, now free from the mask, pierce into you with a vividness that could rival the richest hues of luhua, and archons damn it do you melt. 

you melt, and realize you should run away.  you melt, all while cursing yourself, that this man might not be so kind as to spare you in the future, when he’s back at his full health.  you melt, thinking that, well, you haven’t seen him before, so maybe he doesn’t know who you are either.  you melt, even as you extinguish your vision and put away your sword, and slide to the bottom of the crater to lug his limp body back to the top, to the shelter of the ruins, and rummage through your bag for medicine.

he hasn’t said anything for the past ten minutes, and you’re thankful that there’s finally someone from the fatui who can keep their mouth shut, even if this is half-beaten to death.  “you’re not dying on me,” you insist, as if your words could will him back to full consciousness.  “not when i’m risking my life for someone like you.”

as you work on bandaging his arm, out of the corner of your eye you swear you see his mouth twitch.  is he trying to speak?  no, you want some silence for a bit longer, but pause as you notice a gash on his torso.

“this is medically consensual, okay?”  you wait two seconds to see if he objects, before unbuttoning the lower part of his coat and applying pressure on the wound.  the blood has soaked through his clothes, and just as eagerly, seeps into the cloth you’re shoving against it.  the man stirs as you continue to clean his wounds, and when his eyes open, you’re too preoccupied with your short supply of towels to notice.

when you’re aware of a gaze on you, however, you turn towards him with a hardened face.  you already know what you’re going to say.  even if he doesn’t know who you are, you’re going to make it clear that, for your own satisfaction, you won’t help him back to liyue and he’ll have to make the walk himself.

“you were out there,” you say simply, motioning towards the crater with a nod of your head.  “i’ll patch you up, but you’ll have to get further help yourself.”

the man with eyes of the deep regards you, but you busy yourself by applying gauze.  he’s propped up against a pillar, and you’re crouching at his side.  when you’re about finished, only then do you meet his eyes.

he beats you to whatever you’re about to say.  “i didn’t think,” he starts, and you’re already frowning, “that you’d come back.”

ah, referencing when you practically left him in the crater.  his words are vague enough when he says that you ‘came back’ that you aren’t too tense, and you indulge him in a bit of silence before responding.  “not like i’m used to rescuing people who fall from the sky.”

despite his injuries, the man manages a laugh.  he seems almost flustered at your statement, although you can’t understand why.  underneath his soaked bangs, his eyebrows rise, and he seems almost . . . nervous?  you can’t possibly fathom as to why, but dismiss your curiosity.  the more small talk he coerces you into, the longer you’ll spend with him.

you finish sealing the gauze, tossing the roll back into your bag before commanding it to disappear.  blood has soaked into the ground at his sides, also you’re sure that it’ll was away with time.  you’re about to stand up, satisfied with your good-samaritan duties for the day, when he stops you by locking his fingers around your wrist.

he’s in the middle of saying something, but you refuse to let him, drawing your sword and pointing it directly at his throat, his mouth agape as he releases his hold on you.  you consider each other, and when you’re certain you have the upper hand, you draw your line.

you spit the words like venom.  “do not touch me, fatui.  i’ve done what i can for you, and you won’t be getting anything else from me.”

your blade doesn’t lower from his form, and as you stand above him, you regard his hands, as if he might summon his own weapons in an instant.  if he’s smart (which you think he is yet simultaneously pray he isn’t), he’s probably plotting how to get out of your sword’s reach.  you’re not going to let him, after you’ve been so self-sacrificing, putting your life on the line for someone affiliated with the organization that suffocated the life out of you.

a tilt of the head, yet silence from his mouth.  he seems surprised that, while you allowed him to laugh mere moments earlier, you’re now pointing your weapon at him, although something in the ease of his facial features tells you that he’s not concerned in the slightest.

“i wanted to say thank you,” he breathes finally, and you look as if he’d just punched you in the gut.  “being in your position probably isn’t easy, and i’m the last one you wanted to see, but you still . . . ”

fuck, no, not this.  you don’t know if he’s a prophet, if he knows who you really are, or the ‘i’m on the run’ stamp on your forehead is that obvious, but you aren’t going to fall for the fatui’s words.  your fists clench, and you once more prepare to denounce his organization,

and you’re disarmed in an instant, sword thrown to the side and fingers restricted by his larger grasp.  archons, you couldn’t even see him move, what a deceptive bastard, feigning injury –

“stop,” he hushes, and despite your fury you register it as a plea, not a command.  the man repeats himself, before continuing,  “we won’t haunt you any more; i’ll make sure of it.”

five seconds, then ten.  you had determined that his grip was too strong to break free of, and are left in no position to move unless he releases you.  he holds your gaze without a hint of malice, even though you try your hardest to find any in his eyes.  

when he does let go of you, fingers skimming past your flesh, you run faster than you ever have before.

you run, past the ruins, past the harbor, and until you can’t see liyue behind you any more.  you run, unable to see a palace fall from the sky and crash into the ocean, and until you’re surrounded by mountains and there’s not a ginkgo tree in sight.  you run, unsure if his words are true, but certain that he knows who you are.

you won’t trust him.  as you lay on the ground, wheezing to catch the air that’s left your lungs, you once again swear to yourself that you can’t trust the words of the fatui.  

as the northland bank lights ignite themselves in welcome of its master, childe presses a hand to his bandaged torso.  a spark of your vision lingers between his fingers, and he observes it before it disappears.

he’s already hurt enough people.  he heads to the second floor, and erases your name from the fatui files. 

[stardustincarnate]

EARLY TRYST // Light Yagami x Reader

word count : 4534 genre : fluff <333 ! crack-ish, pre-kira!light, all that  mushy mushy stuff, best friends to lovers because who doesn’t love that trope?

a/n : i’m not sure if i’ve posted this here before but i’m fairly certain that i haven’t oh godric you’ll have to forgive me if i had  --

Who wakes up 5:00 early on a Saturday morning just to bug their neighbor to have a match with them?

Technically, you did. You were bored, and the first thing that came to your mind was playing your favorite sport with one of your bestfriends, who's also your neighbor, Light. Surely he wouldn't mind, would he? But it mattered not since he also did the same to you back then, insisting you two bike together just because he wanted a companion and knew you wouldn't refuse. You were hella pissed even so, and now it's your turn to get revenge.

You brought a ladder, placing it just enough to reach the window to his bedroom on the second floor. You eventually climbed up, practically pressing your face against  the window to get a clearer sight of him sleeping peacefully on his bed, his angelic face barely visible as it was partially covered with his blanket.

'Say goodbye to your sweet dreams, lover boy.'

You thought and knocked on the window loud enough for him to hear. Your first tries were futile so you knocked a little louder and more violent. To his dismay, Light woke up with a teeny-bit of panic in his chest. Creasing his eyebrow and squinting his eyes, he looked at the window, seeing a familiar figure. You snickered as he awakened, languidly making his way to the window, an irritated look on his face when he met your eyes.

He opened the window. "[Y/N], what the hell are you doing here? What time is it?"

"About time for you to play with me."

"Huh? Play with you? You're acting strangely childish. I was still sleeping." He clicked his tongue. You chuckled and shook your head. "Aw, sleeping beauty is upset because his dream was left unfinished. Don't worry, his dashing savior is here to make him feel better."

"You mean worse."

"Bad!" You playfully punched his shoulder. "Says the one who still has sleep in his eyes."

"Of course I have. You just woke me up." He scowled, turning his back at you and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his face a little flushed.

"Heh, don't be shy!" You teased, wobbling a little in your position.

"I'm not shy! Tch, seriously though, you're in a ladder? You only made it harder for yourself when you could've just knocked on the main door. Mom and dad are already awake. They'd let you in."

"Eh? But I was shy- you know- err, how am I supposed to say 'Can I go to Light's room or something?'" You blushed a little. He hummed in response and gave an understanding look. "Come on in."

"I can't fit in here- just meet me outside. I'll wait for ya."

"You got yourself in this so don't turn back now. You can fit but in another position." Before you could reply, he suddenly grabbed your arms and indicated you to push your head inside. You did, whimpering as he pulled you in by grabbing you by the armpits, your faces almost bumping in the process. You gave a squeal as you felt your feet of the ladder, causing you to grip him tighter, almost hugging him-or maybe even inhaling him.

For a better description you basically looked like a flying fish from outside who's getting devoured by a portal.

With all his might, Light pulled you in until your whole body finally got inside. Of course, as he was secretly anticipating to, you both fell on the ground, with you on top of him, your head against his chest.

You immediately stood up and accidentally stepped on his ankle, resulting a loud whimper from him.

"Oof."

"That hurt, you know."

"Sorry. But-" You both heard a loud crash from outside. You were certain that the ladder you used had fallen, and it was so loud you swore some of your neighbors woke up. "...As I was saying... That was a dangerous way to get me inside. I could've fallen."

"Too bad you didn't."

"How rude!" You scoffed. You jauntily walked towards his bed, flopping down as if it's your own. It felt so soft, and it kinda smelled like him too.

You closed your eyes and spread your arms. His expression softened that he couldn't hide a smile which you thankfully didn't see. He cleared his throat and picked up a pillow, throwing it at your face.

"Hey, I'll go get some coffee. Want some?"

"I've already drank one, but sure!"

"No wonder you're already so hyper. Now get out of my bed."

"Fine." You scoffed and got up, walking behind him on the way downstairs, making yourself smaller so they wouldn't notice.

"Light! You're up early." Sachiko greeted.

"Yeah, and it's her fault." He slid right to reveal your cowering figure. You shyly greeted his mother, flushing pink. "Oh hello [Y/N]! I didn't see you come in. Were you in Light's room the whole night? You two had a sleep-over..?"

"No mom. Why would we do that? She just has her own ways of disturbing my sleep. Is dad still here?"

"He's on the living room and just about to leave. I'll make you two breakfast."

"That's not necessary. We just need some coffee, after that we'll.. What are we gonna do again?"

"Play badminton outside."

"It's still a bit dark, don't you think?"

"It's alright. The sun is about to rise. It'll rise quickly." Light replied to his mom, taking two cups and then pouring hot water on them. "Mild coffee [Y/N]?"

"Nope. Black coffee will do."

"Didn't you already-"

"It was creamy white. It was bland for my liking. I need something stronger." You cheekily replied. He sighed and started mixing your coffee and then his own. "If I recall, yesterday I saw you walking home while drinking that black iced coffee from the convenience store. Too much caffeine is unhealthy."

"Yes, Sir Light, noted." You grinned, blowing your drink before taking a sip. "Hey, not funny. I'm genuinely concerned."

"Concern appreciated."

You both entered the living room, greeting his father who eventually got up, off to work. You sat beside Light as you both watched Sachiko kiss Soichiro goodbye. You smiled and mumbled an 'aw,' nudging Light and causing him to slightly spill the coffee he was about to drink.

"What?" He looked at you then to his parents.

"Nothing."

"Ah, I get it. You wanna do that with someone someday, don't you?"

"That's not-"

"It's okay. We all daydream like that, even me. So don't be shy."

"I'm not shy!"

"There goes my line."

"Hmp. So who's the lucky girl, or boy, you daydream about?"

"Why are you suddenly interested? Well what about you?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Because that doesn't matter-"

"Unfair. You're so secretive."

"Fair enough since you're just as secretive as I am. You don't even tell me the guys you like, and I'm your bestfriend."

"Because that doesn't matter-"

"Why do you keep on stealing my lines?"

"Oi that's not the point! I mean come on, an honor student like you rarely talks about romance so when you do, of course I must know. I am your best friend after all."

Light cringed, chuckling. "There's nothing special about that."

"Pfft. Honor students like you are so busy with studying that you rarely have time for romance."

"What? No. Look at you, you're an honor student yourself."

"Yeah but I mean the pros, like you. The valedictorians, first honors."

"Just because I don't that about romance doesn't mean I don't think about it. But like you said, I rarely think about it."

"Ooh! So who is the lucky one?"

"Why do you want to know?"

You puffed your cheeks. Honestly you had no idea too. Let's just say you were... curious.

"I need to gather information. I need some information to sip. Either way I'll figure it out when I start my investigation."

"No."

"Augh- I'll disown you, Light Yagami."

He put his cup down, looking at you.

"It's not really possible to disown the person you like, you know."

The coffee that you were drinking almost came out of your nostrils.

"Don't have so much hubris on yourself. I can do a ten-paged essay about why you are so dislikeable."

"But you can do an essay about why you like me ten times longer than that."

"I am so going to hit your ugly being!"

His smile only grew wider, fascination twinkling in his eyes.

"Hit me with your sweet love, maybe I won't mind."

Not blushing wasn't really an option. He burst out of laughter as you'd been left speechless. You continuously punched his arm, but he never stopped laughing. And his laughter was indeed infectious.

As you two were having fun, you suddenly felt eyes on your back. You stopped and turned around, seeing Light's mother slyly smiling at the both of you as she slithered away towards the kitchen. You and Light avoided each other's gaze for a moment and blushed, finishing your coffees wordlessly instead.

"Well, I'll go change now. You wait here."

"Let me come with you-"

Light raised an eyebrow. "What a pervert you are, [Y/N]."

"NO! That is not what I meant!"

"Well what did you mean?"

"I mean, let me wait outside your room instead," You leaned in, whispering. "What if your mom comes here and talks to me? I mean.. I'm super shy around her."

He nodded in agreement but then he added, "There's no need to be shy around your future mother though."

'This smooth-talking bastard!' You sighed and rubbed your nape, 50% about to roll your eyes and 50% about to blush again. You knew what he meant by that. He had always been a tease to you. But you decided to play against his will.

"Wow. I didn't know that the Yagami family will adopt me someday."

"Tch, dummy."

"Did you just call me dummy?"

"What? Of course not! You really need to clean your ears. I said dumplings. Your cheeks remind me of them. And now I'm hungry."

"You are awful!" For the nth time in history, you hit his arm. "I'm really gonna disown you in one of these days. Now get your ass moving already so we can conquer the street first."

"Well you were the one constantly blabbering and delaying things here-"

"Beca-"

"Shut up."

"Pft. Fine." He pulled you up, holding your wrist even on the way back to his bedroom.

After about five minutes of changing to a plain white t-shirt and jogging pants, matching yours by the way, you two headed out the neighborhood. You picked up the rackets and shuttlecock you had left on the ground, handing him one.

"We don't really have a net-"

"Oh come on! This is just a friendly match, so there's no need for that."

"What about the scores? We can play somehow else if you'd like."

"That's not necessary. I'm making the rules, and the only rule here is that the opponent gets the score if you fail to prevent the birdie from hitting the ground."

"That's not how you play badminton.."

"I am well aware of that. I used to be a part of the school's badminton team, hello? But I make my own rules here." You grinned slyly. He shook his head. "There's no fun in this. You just woke me up to make me do some pointless things with you."

You were actually a little offended by that. You puffed your cheeks and crossed your arms.

"Is it bad that I just wanna have some quality-time with my friend? And to get my revenge, too."

What you said made his heart leap a little, and he was having a hard time resisting the urge to smile. But in the end, he only snarled against his own will. "Let's get this done quick. I'll make sure to destroy you."

"Oh, you wish."

And the game started. The eerie silence vanished, replaced by your grunts, pants, and intense movements. The sky was eventually transitioning from a dim purple to a pale yellow one as you two played, eyes focused on nothing but the shuttle, sweat dripping down your bodies. Light was just as determined as you were to beat his ass. The scores were being mentally recorded by you two-no cheating of course. It was a pretty fair game. One moment you'd be on the lead, but he'd take it, and you'd take it back, and the cycle continued. He was the worthiest opponent for you in this, and he thought the same about you.

The deal was a maximum of 50 scores. Currently, Light was leading and almost close to winning. Certainly you didn't want to get beaten so you struck the shuttle at a perfect angle with just enough force. It flew fast; you were sure he'd miss it. But his reflex was quick, and he struck it with a force much stronger than yours-but his flawed angle sent the shuttle flying higher than he intended it to, and it unfortunately landed on one of your neighbor's roof.

That neighbor just so happened to be the one you two-no, the whole neighborhood-absolutely detested.

Light rubbed his nape and laughed nervously, seeing your grimace. "I'll give the score to you then. So, you have an extra shuttle?"

"Unfortunately that's my last one." You facepalmed. You used to have lots of shuttlecocks but you just kept on losing them since everytime you play with someone, they'd either get destroyed in the process or fly too high and land on unaccessible places, just like what happened.

He frowned. "Seriously? What about inside your house? I'm sure there are a bunch of them tangled in your mess."

"I told you that was my last one. I haven't been able to buy more of them so yeah. But thanks to this nerdy friend of mine, I'm now left with none."

You were only being sarcastic, but it sounded way too derisive for him that he felt somehow guilty.

"Now what do we do.." You pouted to yourself. He averted his gaze which then met the ladder from earlier, a brilliant idea crossing his mind. But the last thing he wanted to do was to get involved, in any way, with that awful neighbor. A grim expression crossed his face and you saw it as you walked closer to him.

"Hey, I'm not actually mad at you, dummy."

"No- I mean, that's a relief. But I think I can retrieve it with the ladder. They might notice me though."

You snorted, but at least there was still a way to save that shuttle. You then looked at the sky. The sun was now rawly smiling at you. Surely those rogues weren't awake yet.

"You know what? I'll do it myself."

"Don't. You might fall. I'll go do it. It's a gentleman's job after all." He grinned. "Do you think they're awake?"

"I don't think so. The curtains are closed anyway."

"Alright. In case I fall, you stay below."

"Okay, Princess Light. I'll catch you using these strong manly arms of mine. Muah!"

"Ew."

Thankfully they didn't have a second floor so the ladder's height was alright- although still short. Once Light had climbed up, you stayed below, holding the ladder just to stay sure.

"Damn. How did it get that far?" He struggled to reach it with his racket, even with his arms and body stretched already. After a few valiant attempts, he sighed and steadied himself a little. He had an idea of climbing the roof but the risk of falling down in the process was high. And he certainly didn't want to squash you either.

"Well this is hopeless."

"Don't give up now, my princess!" You continuously poked his butt with the handle of your racket, causing him to give you a death glare, wobbling a little in his position.

"Are you asking to get squashed? Stop that or I'll fall on you."

"That was just to power you up, silly! Don't you dare fall on me."

"How about falling for you?"

"Bitch."

"Now now, don't say bad words!"

He chuckled and was about to continue his mission when suddenly, the curtains flew open, revealing a grotesque face of a woman staring at Light's crotch-because that's where the window was apparently placed.

Let's just say that you two never want to recall that twenty-minute rebuking that you swore went on even as you two had already left the neighborhood, heading elsewhere.

"That went well." Light heaved a sigh, poking your racket with his as you two walked side by side. You nodded.

"Mission failed. Geez, that woman just wouldn't stop talking and bombarding us with malarkey. I'm starting to hate her."

"To be honest who doesn't? The whole neighborhood hates her as far as I know."

"Pfft, right. So what do we do now?"

He poked your cheeks, and poked, and poked, before pinching them so hard.

"Stop your fetish for my cheeks! This is abuse!"

He laughed, a genuine kind. He didn't reply but put an arm over your shoulder. You puffed your cheeks and played along.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm a bit hungry. So let's head to the convenience store."

"Unsurprising but I didn't bring any money with me."

"Not a single cent?"

"Noooope."

"I guess it's fine since I'll be the one treating you. You should be thankful." You only smiled.

On the way to the store you noticed a group of older and drunk men resting on the side of the street. Their eyes pierced uncomfortably through you. You lowered your head, still feeling their laviscious stares nonetheless. Light also noticed this, and so he pressed himself to you. You hadn't even passed them and when you did, the inevitable came. They cackled, whistling and calling you by names as they rapped the table for attention.

You ignored them and thankfully, they didn't bother you more. "Those bastards." You heard your companion clicking his tongue in annoyance, looking back at the drunk men. He saw where their gazes were and it strongly disgusted him. There was an unnerving silence as you two arrived at the store.

You both had hotdogs with buns and ice cream which was your specific request and which Light reluctantly complied to. The two of you were sitting side by side, looking through the glass wall and discussing mostly about school projects and then some gossips which all came from you. After running out of food to munch on, Light went back to buy a huge bag of chips you two would be sharing.

The sky was now a saturated mixture of orange and yellows. People strolling outside were quickly multiplying until eventually the sidewalk got packed. Few vehicles came passing by. The day was starting for a lot.

"Those guys often do that to you?"

Snapping back to reality, you cooed, "Pardon me?"

"The drunk men we just came across with, was it the first time they've called you out like that?"

"Nope. They're always out drinking.." You saw him creasing his brows. "I know what you're thinking. Well they can't be help so don't think too much about it."

"Can't be help or not, that's still wrong. Did you see the way they looked at your curves? Those men reek danger for a young woman like you. Who knows what their next moves are?" Clenching his fist, he growled. He was truly worried for you. He knew how the world is full of suspicious people like them, and who knows that they're capable of doing?

"Now now worry-wart, don't be so angry."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? You should really start walking home with me early. Does it kill you to immediately go home after school even when you have no business there anymore?"

He got you there. "But I don't want to instantly go home."

"Keep thinking like that and you might never be able to go home again."

You pursed your lips at how scary he made that sound. "Listen, [Y/N]. In this world, there are only a few people you can actually trust. And those guys? They're not looking worthy of someone's trust, even one bit. They're also not the only possible threats to you. Anyone you don't know, or even who you're acquainted with, could be. Even if they look so charming. I'm saying this as a warning, and as your friend. The way they looked at you really triggered me. I can't let you continue your routine anymore. Sure, I know you're going to argue that there's lots of bystanders in case something happens, but that's not always the case. And we're not even sure if they'll help you or proceed to give a blind eye to it."

There came a long pause as you absorbed his words. Hearing them made you feel grateful for having a friend like him-someone who speaks up because he cares about you and your safety. You merely nodded with your mouth agape.

"..I-I'll do as you say then. Thank you Light, really. I appreciate your concern. You give the best advices.. I-you're one of the best people out there."

"Sorry to suddenly explode like that." He smiled, and your heart softened. You asked, "And so, by saying that.. You trust me?"

"Needless to ask dummy. I wouldn't have said that if I didn't."

"Thank you. You know I trust you too. You're one of the people who's worth my trust." You flushed pink as you scratched your nape. This kind of conversation will always make you shy.

"You don't have to say thank you to me for trusting you. And what you said.. You're worth trusting, too."

You didn't argue. The following minutes were silent as you two stared at the void while eating potato chips. You didn't have any new topics in mind, and he seemed to be lost in his thoughts-or his daydreams. You didn't want to interrupt whatever was going on in that complex mind of his.

You absently stood up, craving for another black coffee, but you halted and went back when you remembered you didn't have your own money.

"Oh? You want something?"

"I want coffee. Well- if you don't mind. Ehehehe."

"That I am not going to buy for you. That's going to be your third coffee and the day's only starting."

"Hmph. Forgot I have a mom for a friend. But anyway, you good? You seemed to be thinking about something rather serious earlier."

"Yeah, I'm fine." He smiled. Although he was really deep in thought of something-but what was it?

As he'd already said, he trusted you. He had been friends with you since middle school. He developed the ability to read through your mind. With you both growing closer day by day, he had already memorized your hobbies, your predictably unpredictable schedules, your common moods, your personality, and your flaws as a human being. Heck, he could even write an entire biography book about you with all the facts 99% accurate if he wanted to.

To him, you were fascinating, despite the fact that you weren't his ‘ideal’ girl. But as they say, some ideals are bound to get broken when something unexpected and much more interesting comes along the way. Sure, you couldn't read his mind as good as he read yours. You couldn't decipher and foresee what his next moves would be very well, wasn't in the exact same level as he was, but he grew attached to you. He trusted you, which was a rare thing for him to do-and consider the fact that trust is a hard thing to earn. You were an honest person, mildly annoying at some point to him. You're one that's willing to help others too. Rarely gets the initiative, but when you do, you execute amazing plans and actions.

The world is ugly, indeed, but he considered you to be one of those who made it less that way. You were one of the beautiful people in this ugly, mundane world. And that, he admired you for.

He couldn't see you as just a friend anymore. He could basically see through you, like you were his other half-like you were meant to be. You were someone he could connect with, someone he trusts, someone he could love. The label 'bestfriends' bothered him because he felt like it didn't suit you both, because something else did.

A couple.

And going back, what he was thinking about was the act of courting you and becoming your boyfriend. But doubts flooded his mind, such as you two being too young for romance, the possibility of your parents being against it since he knew you once swore that you wouldn't get a boyfriend until the age of 25 (which was actually a half-joke), and him not knowing what to properly do afterwards. Was he ready for this? Having you as his girlfriend wouldn't really change or affect anything such as his studies. It would still be the same.. just with an upgraded relationship and label with you. Besides, he had been wanting to court you for some time already. And if he doesn't do it then he'd only grow more and more restless.

He wanted to be yours. He was sure you also reciprocated his feelings. Getting into a teenage relationship is easy and quick and maybe reckless, they say, but not for someone with a complex and rational thinking like him. There were some things to consider- but you know what Light said?

'God damn it.'

"Love."

"Huh?" You weren't expecting that response at all.

"I mean I was thinking about romance."

"Ooh! Finally, you decided to add some teenage thrill in your life. So, what about romance?" You gave a sly look. "Need help? I can be cupid, except I will be hitting you with my fist."

His smile was little but genuine, looking out. "There's someone I like for some time now. I've been wanting to court her."

"Awe! My boy has finally grown! My son is finally having a love interest! Eh, but why do you look so uncertain? Is there a catch?"

"Not really." He looked at you, his cheek resting on his palm. You raised an eyebrow.

"If that's the case then go for it! Who would dare to refuse the Light Yagami anyway? If you're feeling doubtful, which is highly unlikely for you, don't be. Any girl would swoon over you, even myself." You chuckled. He gave a fake impression of still being doubtful, looking down with his hands now on his thighs. It was a rare sight to see. You placed a hand on his shoulder, tapping it. Just then, he looked at you straight in the eye.

"It's not like you to lose some confidence. Come on, don't be sad. You can do it. Go ahead and court the lucky one. Cupid approves." You gave him a thumbs up.

"..If you say so," he seized your wrist and stood up.

"Can I court you then?"

[solomonish]

selfless (to a fault?) [nowdateables]

CW: allusions to past toxic relationships.

brothers here!

Diavolo

So. Diavolo might not notice right away. It’s not ignorance! He’s just very busy, and public appearances are important to keep up, so one of the ways he keeps up with you happens to be exactly what you have trouble accepting. Large bouquets sent to the House of Lamentation when you’re there, a word sent out to any of his staff out where you may be to make your life easier however possible (Mammon tries to tag along with you all the time, hoping to hear the magic words: “His highness has graciously waived the fee for all exchange students’ purchases today!”) - and he’s not even there to see the way your smile looks a little more like a grimace, or the way you stare uncomfortably at the little gift.

He seems to love that you are so willing to try and help him out - even if there isn’t much you can do, since he handles a lot of sensitive documents and information. But, considering he’s so lonely, when it comes to reciprocating he sort of follows your lead?

He knows, on a surface level, how to be in a relationship, but considering you’re a human AND he doesn’t have a lot of interpersonal relationships for practice...he sort of follows your lead, and hopes your way of giving love is the same as your way of receiving.

You’ll have to bring it up to him, which is a nerve-wracking experience on its own, eased only by the fact that you know Diavolo has done his best to make sure you KNOW you can bring up any issues you have. He is very good at opening his ears to you and helping you problem solve, and when dealing with the things he cares about (yes, YOU) he is very direct about problem solving.

The moment you stand before him, Diavolo notices the way you fidget with your hands and almost refuse to look at him directly. He immediately stops what he’s doing, putting everything down and turning in his seat. If he’s at his desk, he gestures for you to come to his side and asks you directly - “What’s wrong?”

It seems terrible to directly accuse the prince of wanting to manipulate you, so instead you ask, “What did you want in exchange for those gifts?” And for a moment, he does not know what you are talking about. First of all, WHICH gifts, there’s so many, and secondly did he come across as wanting something in return other than your happiness?

No matter what he was doing before, he will set aside all of the time he needs to at least start to communicate to you that he has no ulterior motives with his gifts to you. If you’d like him to stop with such blatant displays of affection, he will, but it’s more important to him that you know he is only trying to communicate how he feels when he cannot do it directly.

Barbatos

This is a relationship where you might have to bring it up before you even start dating. Either that or he WILL get a hint before then. He’s a butler! Not only is he normally serving other people, he is a master at standing in the back and watching people. He notices the way you awkwardly hold your tea cup after he gives it to you, or decline anything that he offers you when given the chance. It just comes up by nature of who he is.

Before he is interested in pursuing a relationship, he simply brushes it off as the unfamiliarity of having someone wait on you. Perhaps you’re particularly independent, or you just never really are in a situation where someone waits on you like he does. Either way, it isn’t really much of his business.

But...it is very obvious in a relationship. He just...defaults to helping others. Sure, he knows how to separate work and his personal life (though, to be fair, there is not much of a “personal life” there with how much time work takes up, so maybe that needs to be revisited. some day...) but even with that separation he enjoys providing solutions for people and helping out. It brings him joy to help make your life a little easier if he can help, and it’s something he’s good at.

Still, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and he definitely doesn’t want to make you think that he’s treating you the way he treats people as a job. If he wanted to, he could most likely peer into different timelines or even into your past, try to figure out what’s bothering you...but he knows better than to creep into places you haven’t explicitly told him you want him. Besides, communication is important, and this seems a prime opportunity to put that to use.

So he asks you one day when you visit him at the castle, after he notices your hesitation to respond to him when he offers to help you with something you were complaining about. “Why does it make you uncomfortable when I offer my assistance to you?”

You freeze for a moment. “Wouldn’t you be able to find that out on your own?” “Would you like me to?” “...no, not really.”

He isn’t one to press you for information, or to ask a thousand times if you know he’d never use any of his attempts to make your life in the Devildom easier against you. Barbatos will listen to what you have to say intently and do his best to mesh to what you think you’re most comfortable with. He does intend to help you accept help as much as he can, but it’ll be so subtle you’ll hardly even notice. With the little amount of time he already gets with you, he’s already practiced in making the most of it - what’s one more little task to the greatest butler in all the realms?

Solomon

See, this is a relationship that doesn’t necessarily depend on the whole “acts of kindness” thing. (Like, it does to the same degree any relationship does, but considering I think you’d both be pretty independent people and the helping each other aspect normally comes from things you’re doing together anyway. If that makes sense.)

Still, he does notice how...surprised you look when he surprises you with a flashy spell he learned, or when he hears you complaining about your course load or Lucifer’s expectations for you. You decline every single offer he gives you to help, and you never look as happy as he hopes you will when he shows you his spells. (Depending on what stage you are at in the relationship, how is he supposed to impress you if you never want him to do things for you !!!)

However, he is accustomed to holding information close to his chest, and he isn’t always the best at asking about people’s emotions. So, even though sometimes you jump at the opportunity to help him collect ingredients for potions or find one book in massive libraries or craft things for enchantments and spells but you REFUSE to let him help you study for a class he could pass without even listening to one of the lectures, he silently suffers and hopes you’ll breach the subject on your own.

Which you do. Kinda. He’s trying to convince you to let him help you with paying back the debts of one of Mammon’s schemes he dragged you into - figuring two bodies on the job will get it done faster and, in turn, he can have more time with you later - but he makes the mistake of rationalizing it with, “Well, since you help me out so much, maybe I could-”

“Don’t! Don’t...say that. We don’t owe each other anything.” You give him a tight smile that’s OBVIOUSLY fake. “I help you because I want to.”

“And I want to help you. Why won’t you let me? What’s up?”

The conversation is...uncomfortable. Solomon isn’t the best at handling vulnerability. But he doesn’t judge you for a second, and he gets the fear that you have in the back of your mind. Especially since people keep telling you not to trust him and that he’s shady...this relationship is pretty dependent on a thorough trust between the two of you. But he doesn’t mind proving himself a little more, so long as you’ll be gracious enough to give him a chance.

Simeon

Simeon is really good at vibing out somebody’s boundaries and comforts. Call it angelic intuition, but he also has a feeling about you that makes a little too much sense when he notices how you shy away from any offers of assistance.

A little thinking, and suddenly the way you stretch yourself thing to help the brothers at any moment makes a lot of sense too. (And, of course, he is pleased to know everyone considers everyone to be family. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t two main causes!)

Angels naturally want to ease the strife of the humans they come across, and even though Simeon knows that it might make you uncomfortable, he finds himself unknowingly putting you in awkward positions with how often he reaches out to make your life easier.

Bringing you homework that you missed, being your escort when the brothers are busy, buying you lunch just because - he’s a bit of a sweetheart and it’s in his blood to do these things, and he only remembers how it hurts you when you uncomfortably shift before taking the only option he’s given you - accept what you don’t want.

He sits you down one day, letting you know it’s bound to be a healing conversation between the two of you. Fortunately, he has a knack for making you feel comfortable and safe, so he has a slightly easier time getting you to pen up to him.

The moment you even hint at him having ulterior motives, you feel stupid. Even when he assures you that it’s alright, saying it out in the open feels...wrong. That doesn’t shake the feeling or ease your fears, but it does make addressing things a bit easier.

Simeon has no problem helping to draft a plan for re-affirming your trust in genuine love and kindness. He also inserts himself directly into the plans - what, you thought he wouldn’t? Simeon will remind you what it feels like to be cared for with no expectation of return. don’t get him wrong though, he’ll take a lil kiss or something if u want...

Luke

You can’t say no to him. Unfortunately, he bakes a LOT and he is all too eager to be your personal guard dog guardian angel.

When you do decide to let him know why you look so uncomfortable when he tries to do something for you (giving him an abridged version, of course) - and he, in all his energy, does not seem to get the hint to STOP ASKING - you can see him literally just chill out. One minute he’s vibrating with pure energy and the next he’s just. Still.

He half wants to get indignant on you, but he knows that’s not a good response. Instead he just sort of stands there, watching you for a minute, until he blurts out with zero grace - “What would I even have to do that for??”

He realizes it’s a terrible response the moment it comes out of his mouth, but you seem to be okay with it if your awkward chuckle is anything to go with. Luke starts pouting just a little bit, more upset with himself that he’s completely failing at handling this situation. “I’m just nice to you because you’re nice and you deserve it. There’s nothing else to it.”

He’s a sweet boy, and he doesn’t wanna lose his favorite taste-tester. He’s got the spirit.

[thefanficmonster]

Corpse Infested

Corpse Husband & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of dysfunctional family, Family problems, Swearing

Genre: Humor, Comfort, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When your friend disappears for a long time, seemingly having lost interest in what fueled the most passionate fire in their life, you cannot not worry about them. Even if you wanna give them space, you will reach out, you will offer your help. You will tell them they always have you to rely on and talk to.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and if you do I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

For me, it’s never hard to find things to do. I’ve constantly got things on my mind and tasks to tend to, keeping me occupied and my mind focused at all times. I think that comes with living in a home as dysfunctional as this one. I honestly can’t recall a time when my parents got along nor can I think of a time where there was at least one second of peace while the two are both present in the house. It’s always a warzone up there. I’m saying up there because I tend to live out of the basement of their home. I know living in your parents’ basement is considered a peak loser point, or the bottom of the bottom, but you’d have to believe me when I say - I wasn’t always like this. In fact, I only recently came back to this hell-hole and boy do I regret it. I mean, it was a decision forced upon me by circumstances. Trust me, I tried every other option there was. When my dorm was to be closed down and demolished, we were given a notice to start planning our next move about a month early. You can bet I immediately started looking at places but my very tragic and miserable budget didn’t allow such a purchase. No rent was adequate for me and my near-empty wallet so my second option was moving in with my best friend who was also not in the greatest of situations but I thought I’d give that a shot too.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work out. She lived in a tiny apartment with her boyfriend and his best friend at the time, so four people in one apartment was a nightmare. Still a lesser nightmare than this one but a nightmare nonetheless. Some unwanted and downright traumatizing events chased me out of that place after barely managing to pack my stuff. Therefore, finding myself on the streets again, I had no other option other than the obvious and least liked one: moving back in with my parents.

Making money during my first year of college hasn’t been easy. Working two jobs at once and also streaming video games on the side was what my time was filled with all throughout the first semester but then this damn pandemic started and now ruined everything for me. I had things going for me, I was slowly getting my life together and now it has all fallen apart yet again. The places I worked at closed down due to quarantine and I haven’t been able to steam, not only cause I’d be the victim of my parents’ comments but also cause my terrible home life would be exposed to all my fans and viewers. It’s not like I could cancel out the commotion going on right above my head, it’s a livestream and this house’s walls are cardboard thin meaning all the arguing I hear almost 24/7 will serve as background noise for my streams.

I haven’t reached out to my friends or fans to inform them of this which I feel slightly guilty about but I’m really not looking forward to having to lie to them, just as much as I’m not looking forward to having to tell them the truth so instead I’ve picked silence which is probably either worrying them or driving them insane. Either way, I’ll make my comeback soon.

Well....not very soon by the looks of it...

I have to gather the money, then I have to find a place, then comes the packing, moving out of here, moving into the new place...oh God, there’s so much to it that I don’t even wanna think about. Just that thought that I’ll be inactive for that long makes my stomach turn. Streaming’s where I’ve been channeling all my negative emotions, turning them into something positive and entertaining with the help of my friends.

Speaking of my friends, I should probably put emphasis on how amazing they are. Basically the older siblings I’ve always wished I had. I’m the baby of the group, the eighteen year old freshman in college, powering through life the best they can cause they are constantly getting tripped up by inconvenient occurrences such as this one for example. I tend to have the gang poke fun at me quite frequently - all lighthearted and with good intentions obviously - but they are also the ones to get super defensive if anyone gets the balls to talk shit about me. They’d never allow me to be the victim of any smack talk or online rumors and ‘cancel culture’ or whatever the hell people will come up with to leave others restless and wondering if they did something shady a decade ago. Well, to be fair, I didn’t even know about the concept of social media a decade ago and I’ve never been one to post much but I still have a protection squad in case anyone decides to come after me.

Little do they know the people I need protecting from are the very people that are supposed to protect me - my parents. Luckily, they don’t venture into to basement very often if at all and I have my own exit to the outside world so I don’t have to run into them unless I absolutely have to. The only time I emerge to the surface of the house - aka the ground floor - I do so to leave my share of rent money on the dining table and I usually do it when they aren’t home or when they’re asleep - that happens often with how many bottles they each knock back on the daily.

*sigh*...at least I don’t have to talk to them, right?

Anyhow, remember how I mentioned I always have things to do? Well, right now I’ve tasked myself with rifling through the large boxes containing random stuff I found in one of the basements down here to see if there’s anything I could possibly sell online. For starters, I’d like to hope there aren’t any severed body parts in here because this was one shady-ass basement before I moved in and un-creeped it a bit so I wouldn’t have to become an insomniac due to the paranoia of there being a homeless person down here with me or some paranormal entity. Regardless, old basements tend to be, apart from haunted, also filled with junk no one would find valuable despite it actually being worth something after all. That’s basically what I’m hoping to find at the moment.

As I dig through the contents of the first box, the YouTube playlist I have put on on my phone cuts off causing me to furrow my brows in confusion for a second before my ringtone pierces the silence the lack of music created.

I quickly mute the ringing and take a look at the Caller ID to see a name I never thought would pop up on my screen as an incoming call - Corpse. I, as well as many of our friends, know that he’s not the biggest fan of talking to people on the phone so this is rather surprising. Still, I pick up the call in case it’s not a mistake and an odd chance that it’s somethin urgent cause Lord knows Corpse doesn’t call people willy-nilly. 

Thank God it’s quiet up there at the moment.

“Hello?“ I try my best to cover up the confusion in my voice but I can only assume I didn’t do the best job considering Corpse replies with a slightly awkward chuckle.

“Surprised you, didn’t I?“ He asks, getting my cheeks to redden a bit, “You can’t blame a guy for calling after up and disappearing on him and on the whole internet. Where’ve you been?“

I open my mouth to respond when I hear the sound of glass breaking a shouted curse from upstairs.

Oh for fuck’s sake!

“Um...you know, places?“ I’m aware the answer isn’t only nonsensical but also sounds more like a question, but I can hardly focus on that right now. I’m too buys praying to an entity I don’t fully believe in for the situation above to not escalate.

“Uh, is everything ok over there? Where even are you right now?“ The teasing tone to his voice is all but gone at this point, replaced with deep concern, having obviously heard the commotion that did the exact opposite of what I prayed for - escalated.

“Y-yeah, it’s ok. It’s just another Thursday, you know.“ I attempt a small laugh but it’s blatantly miserable, “I moved back in with my parents when they announced the quarantine so that’s where I’m at now. They’re not the quietest of folks as you can tell so...“

“I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I HOPE YOU DIE“

Oh crap, here we go.

“...So I can’t really stream a lot...or at all.“ I mutter, cringing with all my might, “But it’s only temporary! I’ll get back in the saddle as soon as I find another place to stay.“ I don’t dare mention how long that’s gonna take me, it’ll be too disappointing and depressing for the both of us. “So yeah...um...thanks for showing concern but there’s really nothing to worry about. I’m ok, everything’s ok, things are just...a bit off the rails, but I’ll fix em no problem. Like I always do!“ I attempt to sound as cheerful as possible with little success due to the overwhelming anger I feel towards those people upstairs and the gut-wrenching nostalgia for the world of streaming I can no longer be a part of because of them. Actually, I put the blame first on the pandemic and second on my parents - if it wasn’t for Covid I’d probably still be in my dorm!

“Hey...um, I think I know an affordable place where you can take up residence. Only if you want to, of course.“ He sounds hesitant but I easily overlook that as excitement bursts throughout my entire being at the sound if an escape being offered to me just like that. Had I known I’d find the solution to my problem in the very people I spent time avoiding because I was afraid of their pity, sympathy and judgement.

“Oh please, it could be a rat and roach infested shoe box and I’d go running to it. How much is rent?“ I ask through a gasp of hurried laughter that’s a result of my inability to contain said excitement. Listen, I’ve been sitting here in Hellsburg for three months now and haven’t gotten a proper shuteye during that whole period, whatever Corpse is offering has to be better than this misery.

“Rent can be discussed once you move in...“ He trails off, “And it’s not rat nor roach infested but there’s a slight issue...“

“Which is?“ I’m honestly expecting the worst: in a bad neighborhood; faulty wiring with a high chance of being electrocuted; faulty piping with a high chance of flooding; people have died there; things get randomly moved around in the middle of the night etc. However, I don’t voice any of them to avoid getting laughed at for my wild imagination.

“Well, uh, it’s corpse infested.“ He says a little awkwardly, causing me to let out an inaudible sigh.

So my ‘people have died there’ guess was on point, huh?

“People have died there, huh? Well, I can turn a blind eye to that as long as I don’t find their bodies in the closet or meet their spirits at 3AM.“ I attempt to joke, now second-guessing my eagerness to accept the offer.

Corpse bursts out laughing his ass off at my statement, getting me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion and wonder what I said was so funny - it was a poor attempt at a joke, it in no way deserves that sort of reaction, barely a chuckle in my opinion.

“You’re golden, Y/N, I swear.“ He says once he forces the laughter to subside, “I meant corpse infested as in Corpse Husband infested.“ He breaks out in another fit as my brain slowly starts connecting the dots.

Oooohh he’s asking me to go live with him

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, hold up for a sec. Are you aware of what you’re offering me? I mean, we’ve never met IRL, you barely know me and....and for all you know I could be the serial killer in this situation!“ I have no idea why I’m pushing my luck, don’t ask. I just don’t want him to make a decision he’ll later regret, I guess. “Like, I could kill you in your sleep!“

“Would you?“ He asks confidently, silently stating he already knows the answer.

I roll my eyes, “Of course not! But...” He cuts me off.

“Great, the offer stands on my end. I’m not a noisy nor nosey roommate so I suggest you start packing. If you choose to live in that hell-hole over living with me, I’m sorry but I’ll be hella offended, just so you know.“

Corpse sounds like he’s about to hang up on me, a decision already made, so I hurry to stop him. “Wait! What about rent?”

“Fuck the rent, pack your bags.“ And just like that, despite my efforts, he hangs up on me.

Well...this is a chance of a lifetime that I know refusing would lead me to not only remain stuck here but also put me in the hugest loser bin. There’s also the fear of being Corpse’s burden which I’ll try my best not to be - I mean, I’m a super independent person and Lord knows that if this offer came any other time or from any other person, I would’ve declined asap, no discussion.

But streaming

But sleeping properly

But having a normal life again

Yeah those are most certainly the reasons I get up and go into the closet in search on my emptied suitcase. Time to fill it up again, I guess. This time with a smile on my face and excitement fueling each and every movement of mine.

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[angelguk]

→ pu$$y fairy — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 3.2k

genre: smut + college!au + jeongguk and oc are in a weird fwbs without the friendship part just the benefits except jaykay lowkey has feelings + virginity au

warnings: virgin!oc / blowjob / we talk about dicks for a bit / oc is strange / jaykay is confused / cum swallowing / first times / not really edited / mingyu the meddling best fwend

soundtrack: on the way, jhene aiko + hold on (slowed and reverb), the internet

Jeongguk doesn’t hate Mingyu. He truly doesn’t. He is one of his closest friends after all; he’d held him up after Jeongguk had dumped half a keg down his throat and his legs had promptly collapsed.  He’d also been a successful wingman for when Jeongguk was aiming to add Seolhyun to the list of girls he’d bagged, sent pictures of his organic chemistry notes when Jeongguk had missed more than half of the classes in high school and didn’t laugh at him when he was heart-broken over Sua and borderline depressed. He was a true friend; someone Jeongguk could rely on. It was a simple brother-like relationship that Jeongguk deeply treasured. So no, he could never hate Mingyu – but he could absolutely long to punch that insufferable asshole in the face.

He should have known this was going to go downhill exceptionally fast the moment you stumbled into his room, wide-eyed and nervous in your unsure steps. When his pants had hit the ground, the shock in your eyes was a dead giveaway to how messy this whole arrangement was going to be. The second clear sign was when you jumped out his window because the sight of his bare dick terrified you.

And this was all the result of Mingyu being a meddling shit who didn’t know when to mind his business.

He remembers it with a clarity that makes his shoulders tense, how Mingyu had snuck you into the conversation while twisting a soju bottle in his hands.

“Yo… JK…. You mind if I ask you a question?” He’d said. Jeongguk shrugged, focused on flipping the meat on the grill because he was starving and the prospect of cooked meat was a lot more appealing than feigning interest in a conversation. “Alright…," Mingyu took his silence as a cue to speak. “Have you ever fucked a virgin?”

He should have known then. He really should have known.

“I don’t know. I don’t ask any questions when I’m hard,” Jeongguk had replied, unknowing of the dangerous path this conversation was guiding him down.

“Yeah and most of the time you don’t fuck on an actual bed. I’m not even surprised you don’t ask questions.”

“Hey!” Jeongguk had swung the tongs around. “I ask important ones, like consent and making sure we’ve got a condom around. But virginity? Not my concern.”

“Seems a bit…. Whorish to me.”

“Not whorish. I just have my priorities elsewhere… Like cumming for example.”

Mingyu had sighed as he poured him a shot, the air leaving his lips heavy. “I shouldn’t even be asking you to be honest. You’re a decent guy but your kind of a dickhead when it comes to sex.”

“How does not pondering on virginity make me dickhead? Again, as I said, priorities are elsewhere.”

“Dude you’ve never even tried to have meaningful sex at least once in your life. When was the last time you were actually emotionally invested in the person you were sleeping with? Hmm?”

The answer was Sua and he knew that but Mingyu was decent enough to keep her name out of his mouth, the judging look in his eyes saying enough.

“You know… I don’t do well with the whole emotional thing. I prefer it physical. It’s less messy. But what does this even have to do with virginity?” Jeongguk hated to admit it but he was somewhat interested in where this conversation was going. If only he knew it was leading to a massive train wreck of the one thing, he steered clear from – emotions.

Mingyu had just sighed again, tipping the soju bottle into his shot glass once more. “There’s a girl who I’d like you to meet.”

He’d scoffed, mouth stuffed with a perilla leaf wrap. “You know I don’t do blind dates.”

“It’s not a blind date,” Mingyu had retorted, the glance he threw at his friend’s direction precarious. “She wants you to take her virginity.”

Jeongguk had choked. Of course, he had. Even if sex didn’t mean much to him, taking someone’s first time like that felt very transactional. And Jeongguk wasn’t that big of a dickhead. But then Mingyu had opened his mouth, spewing various details about your life to him that he would rather have not heard over a KBBQ lunch. You were a friend from one of his business lectures, rather eccentric but sweet and funny. You were also a virgin and terrified of approaching men on your own, one of the reasons Mingyu had sprung up this arrangement. Jeongguk wasn’t one to fall into things like this but it was too late. Mingyu was a marketing major for a reason, he knew how to spin words in his favour, convince people into agreeing to things that they normally would not. And that’s how Jeongguk found himself staring at your retreating figure after you’d thrown your body right out his window, landing hard on the lawn of the house he rented with Namjoon and Seokjin. The crazy thing was that you’d gotten up immediately, not showing any sign of a broken bone or injuries, before promptly sprinting down the road to the bus stop. He should have known then. He really should have known. And yet, here he is, pants discarded on the floor of his room and his dick aching from being unrelieved for longer than it’s ever been, while you crouch over him, squinting at his penis like it’s a foreign object that could kill you.

“Could you please stop staring at my penis like that.” He says it out of frustration, but also the way you’re examining his length makes him feel self-conscious in a way he hasn’t felt like in a long time.

“Sorry,” you murmur, not breaking eye contact with his dick. “I’m just… fascinated. It’s rather….” The sentence tapers out and you swallow hard as if it pains you to admit it, “...Ugly.”

Jeongguk decides then and there he hates you.

“I mean... It’s not that it’s ugly!” you swiftly attempt to amend, catching the glare he directs at you. “It’s also big!”

“I know. And you just said it was ugly,” Jeongguk retorts, weighing the options in his head. Either get a poor blowjob from a girl he’s terrified of (but also bizarrely attracted too) or kick you out of his room and finish himself off. The situation sucks either way but it’s better than the last time when you’d leapt out of the window like a gazelle.

“I misspoke,” you say, gently falling onto your knees. You flash him a shy smile, a soft delicate little thing that makes your eyes glitter and Jeongguk instantly picks the first option. “It’s just different to what I expected it to look like.”

He scoffs, swallowing hard on the sudden lump in his throat. “There’s no way you haven’t seen a dick before. You don’t watch porn?”

The grimace you make is enough of an answer. “I have… Not all the time though, it’s too much for me sometimes. Also, it’s weird seeing it in real life and not, like, through a screen.”

“Noted. But still, it’s not that ugly,” Jeongguk murmurs, trying not to compare his penis to the visuals he has in his head. His pride is wounded from that comment he won’t deny it.

“It kinda is,” you reply. Jeongguk flicks your forehead in retaliation. “Ow! Why’d you do that.” There’s that stupid pout in your lips as you glower at him. He despises how his dick twitches at the sudden thought of your pretty mouth wrapped around his length. Despises it even more when you gasp at the slight motion trembling through him. “It moves?!”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighs, wondering how on Earth you’re over the age of twenty and still like this. “It does. Also, don’t insult my dick. It’s rude.”

“Sorry again,” you pause as if you’re considering whether what you might utter next is offensive. You open your mouth anyway, unable to comprehend the fact that your words are slowly chipping away at his ego. “It’s kinda scary that it moves.”

“Oh my god, you are the literal worst.” Jeongguk thinks his boner might evaporate. It’s a miracle it’s lasted this long. You’d sauntered into his room around half an hour again and he’d been hard from the get-go. Truly amazing his balls hadn’t shrivelled up yet. “You know you’re about to blow me off right?”

“I know… I’m stupid,” you counter, eyebrows furrowing together like you’re attempting to figure out exactly how Jeongguk’s dick works. It’d be very simple if you just asked him. It’s essentially an up and down motion, some swirls, a lot of wetness. Nothing too difficult. But when you glance up at him, the innocent glaze over your eyes almost hopeless, he can tell it feels the same as defusing a bomb. “I just… Don’t know what to do. Show me?”

And there it is - the foolish little thing that landed Jeongguk here half-naked on the edge of his bed in the first place. Even though you were mildly repulsed by the male autonomy you were still so eager to learn. Something Jeongguk didn’t know he would be into until you posed that question and his balls tightened in a way they have never done before.

“Okay,” he mumbles, hoping you don’t suspect the twitch that runs through his length when you say that. Not like you would, to be fair.

But then you sweep your hair back, lean in fast, no preparation or anything before your breath is brushing against his crotch and Jeongguk nearly screams.

“Woah, woah, woah! I thought you just asked me to show you? What are you doing?” Maybe he scuttles further down the bed, terrified of the rush of heat you send straight to his gut.  

Your eyes flicker upward, bright and ingenuous. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“You’re not -,” Jeongguk sighs breath weighing through the air. “You’re not doing it wrong. I just think... We should go slow right? It’s your first time? Maybe don’t rush into it?”

“I watched a YouTube video and they said to do it like that,” you reply. Jeongguk can’t help but blink at you, brain reeling from attempting to understand your being.

“You watched a - never mind. You’re giving me a headache. And I thought you knew nothing. Porn would have been a better research alternative but to each their own.”

“I did it for preparation! I didn't know it’d be this nerve-wracking in real life. And, I told you, real dicks are gross. She used a dildo.”

“How is a dildo any different to a real dick?” Jeongguk fingers dig into the mattress a little harder when you lean it once more, gingerly resting your head against his knee.

“It’s just different. Less grotesque. And they come in various colours.”

He might just actually scream. “It’s literally made to replicate a penis.”

You sigh, your breath skipping against his skin. The room is suddenly tight, closing in on him and you’re not even really touching him. And then you catch your lip between your teeth, pressing down with a quick thoughtful bite. “I think you’re deflecting right now.”

“I’m not,” he splutters. “Why would I even be deflecting right now?”

“I mean, we’re having a conversation about dildos when your dick is hard and I’m meant to be blowing you. Sounds like deflection doesn’t it?” He hates the way your eyes glitter, bright and captivating as your gaze locks into his.

“Like I said,” Jeongguk retorts, “We should take it slow.”

“Okay then. I’m done talking about dildos unless you have anything else to add?”

“I don’t,” he murmurs, “Okay then, onto giving a blowjob.”

“Onto giving a blowjob,” you reiterate. And then, like a psychopath, you smile. “Where should I start?”

He hates that body is on edge right now, hands trembling even though he hides them by squeezing his bed-sheets tight. “Try giving it a lick first? You can put your hand around the base too - if you want to.”

“Here?” His knees nearly buckle when you wrap your warm palm around his length, grip firm around the base of his cock. But that’s nothing to the gentle lap of your tongue against the side of his cock, a quick little thing and nearly launches him off the bed.

“Oh - uh - yeah, there.” His voice sounds far off and without warning your mouth is against him once more, tongue a sinful little thing that slips along his length, wet and warm and so sneaky he’s unsure of what to respond with apart from an instinctual buck of his hips. It’s easy like this, your tongue pressed against his cock and your hands slowly dragging upwards, placing a perfect pressure along his length that leaves him sighing into the air of his bedroom. Your movements grow more direct, reading the increasing desperation in Jeongguk’s body as he moves closer and closer to you, waiting until you feel sure enough. And then, finally, your mouth sinks onto him.

He nearly whimpers. Nearly. There’s a heat pooling in his gut and ebbs through every muscle and nerve, the coil of his desire springing tighter with each inch that slips down your throat. You take him so well, Jeongguk can’t help but watch in awe, the wideness in your eyes making him harder than he’s ever been in his life. Even with your inexperience, the way you swallow his cock is obscene. It’s an imagery Jeongguk engraves in his memory, purposefully stored because he knows he’ll think about it whenever his desires override his logical thoughts again. You lap him up like you want this, a soft moan echoing from your throat and along his length as you move deeper, mouth plaint to his dick. He forces himself to sit still, give you the time to adjust, lick and taste to your leisure, forcing the impending wave of heat back down into his gut. He holds it there even when you move away, the sound of your wet mouth popping off his dick permeating the air.

And of course, you lick your lips afterwards, a swift swipe of your pink tongue against them, your eyes trained on his.

“Like that?” you ask.

Jeongguk’s going to die. He is. And you’ll be the reason why listed on his death certificate.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, chest tight with want. “Like that.”

You lean back in without question, mouth taking his length like you were made for it and your hand works against the parts of him you can’t reach just yet. His mind wanders as his eyes take in this sight of you, on your knees and mouth open wide just for him. Someday he’d like to see if you could truly take his length, all of it. Down your throat. Hard and fast like his hips wanted to go. But this is more than perfect. How you concentrate on blowing him like you want to see him spill himself down your throat. It’s almost adorable, the earnestness in your gaze every time your eyes flicker upwards as your mouth moves along his cock. He likes this more than he’s willing to admit, the slowness in your pace, how your tongue is shy sometimes when it laves against his tip. It’s a change from what he usually gets - and a welcome one too. A tiny part of him feels like it would be fitting to hold your hand. You’re so pretty too, especially when your lips are on him. He’d like to take care of you, see what your face looked like when his tongue was deep inside of you, know what your taste like as you moan out his name. He doesn’t even register the words as they leave his mouth, head lost in the images colouring his thoughts.

“Taking me so well, baby,” he can’t help the grunt, the pet name natural to him, “So pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

And you hum like you like it - like you like pleasing him, sinking further down until his tip bumps against the back of your throat. The zip down his spine nearly sends him spiralling.

“Baby,” he feels it then, when your eyes shift to meet his, the snap in his gut. “F-fuck, I’m gonna cum. You need to stop right now if you don’t want to down your throat.”

But you don’t, moving faster like the twitch of his dick in your mouth spurs him on, your lips firm as they wrap around him. He doesn’t hold in his moves this time, hips gently moving up to meet your mouth, the tremor running through his bulky thighs nothing but a warning before it hits him hard. A wave of heat, melting through his muscles as his eyes flutter shut, your tongue lapping him right up, no protest as he unravels down your throat. It’s over in an instant but Jeongguk feels like mush, head floating and his bones soft with how hard his back hits the mattress. You pull off his length a second later, letting him feel you swallow all of him first.

“Holy shit.” His mouth is still disconnected from his brain.

There’s a beat of silence, so awkward that Jeongguk shuffles himself back onto his elbows even though his bones feel like giving way. And then your laugh tinkles through the air, a soft gentle thing that makes his heart seize in his chest.

“That… wasn’t so bad,” you say, staring at him with an ease that spikes an urge to press his lips against yours in his heart.

“Oh,” he replies, like an idiot. “You liked it?”

“Well, it didn’t suck… pun intended. Your moans are really loud.”

Jeongguk blushes - he blushes - even after the stupid joke you made.

“Um, yeah. I do, I guess. Sorry, I kind of forgot to show you what to do. But you’re a bit of a natural, to be honest.” He abhors the diffidence in his voice.

“I guessed that,” you retort, the smile on your face hypnotic, “From your really loud moaning.”

“Can you - fuck how do you ruin any intimate moment when it happens?”

“Guess I’m a natural at that too,” you say it with a laugh, and Jeongguk can’t help the smile that tugs against his lips.

“Um,” he tries, fully aware of the front view seat you were getting of his soft dick. He sits up to try and shield it, feeling awfully exposed. “If you’d like… I could return the favour?”

“No, I’m good.” There’s zero hesitation in your voice and you’re up before Jeongguk can think of a decent excuse to keep you in his room. “Maybe another time? I’ll text you. Bye Jeongguk.”

It’s then he regrets not encouraging you to undress earlier, his assumption that this would be the worst blowjob of his life incredibly incorrect. Perhaps if your clothes were scattered around his bedroom he could have found a way to convince you into his sheets while you searched for them. But you’re fully dressed, already bounding out of his door like his dick wasn’t down your throat moments ago. He watches you go with forlornness, mouth dry with words he’s incapable of expressing at this very instance and his heart oddly warm at the sight of your skipping away with a carefreeness he admires. He still hates that you’re leaving, perhaps the only positive of this situation is that you’re using his bedroom door instead of his window.

“Bye,” Jeongguk mumbles into the vacant air. You don’t even catch it, shooting him a quick grin before you’re bounding down the stairs as if this doesn’t even matter to you. A stumble on a stepping stone to something greater. He plucks up his phone, pants still lost somewhere on the floor. Blocking Mingyu for twenty-four hours should be enough of a punishment, right?

mingyu the man [10:21pm]

bro..

you alive?

jaykay [10:26pm]

i focking hate u

u know that right?

mingyu the man [10:31pm]

you dont my g

how was it?

did she jump out the window this time?

jaykay [10:34pm]

worse

mingyu the man [10:37pm]

bro wtf wot she do??

jaykay [10:40pm]

she actually gave me head

mingyu the man [10:45pm]

????

how is that worse dude you’re just as weird as her

jaykay [10:46pm]

ITS WORSE CAUSE I LIKED IT

mingyu the man [10:51pm]

damn....

you like crazy coochie don’t you

jaykay [10:52pm]

WHAT R U EVEN

MAN FUCK

I HATE U

mingyu the man [10:53pm]

lmao u don’t i brought her into your life u lurve me

im best man for the wedding

not jaehyun

u got dat right

jaykay [10:56pm]

i hope you fall into a ditch and die

mingyu the man [10:58pm]

okay big man

you gon see her again tho?

jaykay [10:59pm]

....maybe

idk man im fucked up right now

like???

SHE JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW??

mingyu the man [11:01pm]

and u still invited her over to suck your dick again

crazy coochie got u bad bruh

jaykay [11:06pm]

FUCK U

mingyu the man [11:11pm]

mhmm if thats what u say

i have a class wid her to tomorrow

any messages u want to pass on?

hello?

[mingyu the man is blocked]

hello? jaykayyyyyy

JAYKAY

SEAGULL

damn he got it bad

[naralanis]

little bumps in the road (pt. 19)

Previously, on LBitR...

Like her cell before this, the room Lena now occupied has no windows, only the bright fluorescent lights that emit a soft hum just loud enough for Lena to hear—something that would ordinarily drive her crazy with annoyance, but now just gives her something else to focus on.

There are no clocks, either, at least not that she could see, not even on the many monitors attached to her via an array of wires. Though, to be fair, her visibility is somewhat compromised by the limited range of movement the handcuffs afford her.

No one has come in to check in on her so far, not even a nurse doing their rounds or some hapless DEO agent—because she is very much not in a hospital, as much as it looks like she might be. Lena would guess she’s being held at the DEO, but she doesn’t particularly like guessing. She likes knowing. And what she knows is that she’s been here for what feels like forever and she’s starting to get antsy.

Not that Lena has much idea of how much time has passed; she tried counting the minutes in her head, but couldn’t concentrate long enough on the task to keep it up for more than twenty counts to sixty, which in her book, is long enough.

She half-expected Lex to come in at some point, even if just to gloat, but he hasn’t shown so far, and Lena figures he doesn’t need to. He’s already got his pieces in place—he controls both Lena and the Director of the DEO; he can just sit back, kick up his feet, and relax while he waits for the game to start up again.

For Kara to come flying into his trap.

Fucker, Lena thinks bitterly. She feels a little high—probably whatever pain medication she was given.

Her stomach growls, sudden and loud, and Lena realizes she has no idea when she had eaten last. But more than telling she’s hungry, the unpleasant sound tells her she’s been sitting here twiddling her thumbs (figuratively speaking, of course) for a few hours at least.

Tired of being laid up and useless, and entirely not in the mood to wait for Alex or whoever else to come in, Lena tries to shuffle down the bed, as much as the handcuffs will allow, to try to get to the bandages stuck to the side of her head.

There’s some incredibly awkward shuffling down the thin mattress and further into the cheap, staticky sheets, and the angle is far from comfortable, but eventually Lena manages to lean down just enough so her fingertips graze the edge of some gauze, right at her temple. She pinches it between her index and middle fingers—the only ones that actually reach—and slowly begins to tear it away from her skin.

It’s at this moment that Lena becomes exceedingly thankful for the invention of morphine—or whatever else it is they have her on, here—because after some poking around, she’s definitely reopened her wound. Her fingers come away bloody, and the whole spot feels raw and hot to the touch, but fortunately, she feels little more than pressure.

She’s very well aware that, as far as good ideas go, this one probably nears the bottom of the list (or perhaps isn’t in it at all), but her options are limited, after all. And to be quite fair, even if she doesn’t succeed, she’s already in this pseudo-hospital room—it’s quite unlikely her captor will let her just. Die.

The angle is mightily uncomfortable, which makes it less than ideal when it comes to actually digging into a head wound, and so far she’s felt nothing that resembles the minuscule implant in her skin, but Lena is nothing if not tenacious, not to mention stubborn as hell. Kind of like Kara.

“If you would like, I could provide you with the schematics to Lex Luthor’s mind-control implant without the need of aggravating your wounds.”

Lena jumps—as much as one can jump when they’re handcuffed to a bed—at the voice; she’d been so concentrated on her slightly insane task she didn’t hear anyone come in. Her bloodied hand snaps away from the wound on her temple in shock and hits the rail with force, enough to send her now-empty ice-chip cup flying to the other side of the room.

“Brainy!”

Lena cannot quantify the sheer relief she feels when she sees the stoic figure at her door, ramrod straight with his arms crossed at his back. His lips are tugging into a little smile, like he’s so clearly happy to see her, and for some reason that makes her want to cry.

She does cry a little, and it’s so pathetic, because her hands are still handcuffed so she can’t even reach out to wipe at them. But it’s the first time in weeks, maybe months, that someone other than Kara actually looks happy to see Lena, and she finds she’s wholly unprepared to deal with it.

“What are you doing here?”

He steps in, squinting at her and tutting under his breath as he sees her bloodied hand, head, and bandages. “Do you need me to tell you how exactly much you’re increasing your risk of infection by interfering with your bandages?”

Lena lets out a wet, choky laugh. “No, thank you. I’ll be good.”

He nods, lips tugging ever-so-slightly wider. It’s the closest to a beaming grin as Brainy can get, and Lena can’t help but laugh. Maybe she’s hallucinating. But she’s so, so very happy to see me.

“Good,” he says, looking a bit awkward just standing by her bed with perfect posture. Lena wouldn’t have it any other way. “I will call someone shortly to redress your wounds. Trying to remove this type of subdermal implant with a piece of glass only had a 9.7% chance of success, in case you were not aware.”

Lena lets out a little snort. “I figured the odds weren’t great,” she quips. Brainy’s now just close enough she can touch his elbow with her casted hand—the other one is erm, bloody. It’s a little awkward—Brainy, like Lena, was never the extremely touchy type—but he accepts it with a little laugh. “Brainy, Alex—she also has an implant; she doesn’t remember—”

“I am aware of the Director’s implant. I was working to disable it, but it seems you managed to trigger the return of some of her memories.” He raises his brow, and Lena can tell he is mightily impressed. “Well done.”

“Who else has them? Who else has Lex gotten to?”

“Only the Director, as far as we know. Lex hasn’t made many of them, but we are working on disabling the entire system.” He frowns. “I need your help,” he admits as if it both pains and delights him to need Lena’s assistance. “I found the schematics of the implant itself, but the system…”

“Works on the basis of a program I designed,” Lena groans.

Brainy nods solemnly, thankfully not saying anything further on the subject. Instead, he pulls a small tablet from his pocket, and taps at it until it flashes blue. He turns the screen for Lena to see, and her eyes have a bit of a hard time focusing on the diagrams slowly spinning in place.

“The implant cannot be removed without triggering an alarm,” Brainy begins, and Lena is glad to finally have someone who can get straight down to business. “As well as several countermeasures Lex put in place. Had you successfully removed it, it would have. Erm. Liquefied your brain. In essence.”

Lena lets out a low whistle through her teeth. “Talk about overkill. So I guess we can’t remove Alex’s either.”

Brainy shakes his head. “No. The only hope is by disabling the entire system, which unfortunately cannot be accessed remotely,” he sighs. “I’ve tried 346 times and haven’t gotten close.”

“Well, if we can’t access remotely, then the only other option would be to—”

“LENA! ARE YOU BLEEDING??!”

Brainy jumps back a full three feet, bumping into the monitors with a loud clatter, hugging the tablet to his chest like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. Lena yelps, startled by a blue-clad figure at the door to her room, mask off but scowl very, very much in place.

“Nia,” Lena breathes, but she doesn’t have the chance to say anything else before the young woman marches to her bed, looking exasperated.

“What the hell were you thinking—girl you made a whole-ass hole in your head, this is not the time to start poking around in there, if this scars I swear to god I am going to kill you before Kara kills me before Lex kills us all are you kidding me right now—”

“Nia,” Lena tries again, and she can’t even be bothered with the way Nia’s fussing over her torn bandages and slowly clotting wound, because she just wants to thank her, she wants to hug her, but most of all, Lena just wants to cry. “Nia—”

“Oh my god, are you crying!?” Nia yelps, her previous fury vanishing within a second as it turns to worry as she eyes Brainy, who looks completely out of his depth at Lena’s sudden sobbing. “Why are you crying??”

Lena wants to raise her arms to hug the young woman, but the stupid handcuffs won’t let her, so she just. Sobs. Like a little baby—it’s a little pathetic, but she can’t help it, because Nia’s here, Nia’s the one who took her to Kara. Their mad run across the country, the resentment that melted into companionship again, the laughs they shared along the way—it was all because of Nia.

Nia seems to understand, on a surface level, because she lets out a sigh, dropping the gauze she’d been unsuccessfully trying to stick back on Lena’s head, and just wraps her arms around her, tight and present.

“Thank you,” Lena sobs wetly against the crook of her neck. “Thank you.”

  << Previous || Next >>

[magnoliabloomfield]

Possession 13

Nikola spent a lot of time in her room until her period was over, the boys were just too loud even when they didn’t mean to be annoying, and she was still a bit too embarrassed to face Gally. Not only had he helped her clean the blood from her sheets while he was shirtless, she’d also made that weird, hormonal declaration to him from her balcony. But she wouldn’t take it back either because it was true, Gally was just about the sweetest person in existence even if he did have a hardened exterior, or didn’t express himself with tremendous amounts of warmth. The things he did were always just right in his own unique way.

The attention most boys gave her felt meaningless since she was the only girl. It was hard to feel special without other options to be chosen from. Did they like her personality? Did anyone like her with their brains or their heart, or just their hormones?

She wanted to think Gally cared for her beyond the superficial, but she feared the day another girl would show up that he might like better than her, or they got out and there were so many to choose from, what if he didn’t really want her but was settling because she was all there was? But that’s how life was. A small world with one girl and one Gally.

She was supposed to work on some mending that day and went to Gally’s work bench for a pair of scissors. He wasn’t anywhere in sight even as she scanned extra hard for him. She did notice Shawn looking her way and quickly averted her gaze. She grabbed the scissors and looked for a scrap of paper to leave a note on. Gally didn’t like his things going missing, so she was going to let him know she had them and where she’d be if he really needed them back. As she searched she noticed something.

Moving some things out of the way she saw drawings, somewhere between a sketch and a doodle, and it was all of her. She was shocked at how good the drawings were, but even more shocked by how beautiful the artist seemed to think she was. She’d caught some glimpses in rusty mirrors and still water, she didn’t really look that good. She couldn’t fool herself, this was Gally’s table, Gally’s stuff, so it had to be Gally’s drawings. Honestly if he saw one of his builders doodling away he wouldn’t stand for it or keep it around.

She bit back a huge smile before she covered it back up and looked around for his to-do list, maybe that would tell her where to find him. But what would she do when she found him? Say ‘hey, I saw your drawings of me,’ …then what? She just wanted to see him, just be around him, even without a reason. When she did find him he was in the dead heads with the other builders looking for any trees that could come down, or branches for fires or tools. He was busy and there was no privacy, she couldn’t play off going to see him as anything but going to see him just because she wanted to.

~~~

At dinner Gally got a huge surprise. Nikola was sitting at his usual table. It felt like his heart did an extra big thump when he saw her there in the evening glow. He saw Newt make a dash for the table as fast as his limp would let him, looking ready to be entertained by Gally who he claimed was ‘totally whipped’, whatever that meant. They were saying hello to each other as Gally sat down across from her.

“Hey,” she greeted him with a smile in front of all the other boys. “Did you get my note about borrowing your scissors today?”

“Yeah, I did,” he nodded, glancing at Newt who was watching them like they were a compelling tennis match. “Thanks for putting them back.”

“I saw your sketches,” she said innocently enough but there was flicker in her eyes that made him freeze.

The sketches. The sketches of her, she saw them, oh crap.

“They’re really good, I think you could make a perfect greenhouse if you had the glass for it,” she went on, but her eyes told him she wasn’t really talking about the greenhouse. Strange too was that she didn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

Gally swallowed despite not having taken a bite of food yet. “Thanks. I like to plan ahead for future possibilities.”

“You never planned for this possibility,” Newt smirked as he pointed at Nikola.

Gally shrugged. “You can’t plan for everything.”

“Very true,” Newt admitted. “I mean, you were quite worried about the effects a girl in the glade might have, but nothing terrible has happened yet and you seem to get along thick as thieves.”

Gally gave Newt a hard stare.

“He does like to keep the chaos organized, doesn’t he?” Nikola conspired with Newt, a well meaning tone in her teasing. “Honestly, what would you do without him?”

“Better question is what you’d do without him,” Newt countered. He had spent enough time with her to realize who she fancied, no matter how stoic and subtle she tried to be.

“Oof,” she got a thoughtful look on her face. “Well, I’d be homeless.”

Newt laughed and even Gally cracked a smile.

“I might be under someones thumb, too,” she went on. “Without Gally advocating for me to get on the council. I wouldn’t have my swing!”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Newt said looking right at Gally with an almost taunting grin.

“But all that sounds pretty terrible,” she waved it off. “It’s not just about the things Gally has done for me, or what I’ve gotten from him. He’s my best friend.”

“Is he now?” Newt asked in surprise that sounded more genuine than teasing. Meanwhile Gally could feel that he had gone absolutely, unsubtly red.

“He is,” Nikola smiled, looking at Gally as she answered Newt’s question, watching him adoringly as he bashfully avoided her gaze with red cheeks and ears as he pushed food around on his plate.

“I have bad news for you, love,” Newt sighed. “Gally’s best friend is me. Isn’t that right, Gally?”

Gally looked at him with one raised brow but didn’t say anything which Newt found very amusing in itself. But then Newt gave a sigh as if the fun was over.

“I know it’s- well actually I can only try to imagine how hard it is for you being the only girl here, and how there are so many normal and fun things you should be able to do… but this place is anything but normal. I get it, I don’t mind the fun and the teasing, but there are some who might. I know it’s not fair, but try to be a bit more careful. I really would hate to see either of you get hurt if someone got the wrong idea.”

Nikola looked thoroughly chastised even though Newt had spoken so soft and kindly.

“Right. You’re right,” she nodded as she looked down at her lap and bit her lips. She looked back up with just a ghost of the smile she was wearing before. “I guess I got away from myself there. I’ll have to work on that.”

Gally felt his heart sinking in his chest. He knew Newt was right but he didn’t want her to become reserved and shy away from him just to try and keep peace with some jealous shanks. She’d done all this just because she had seen his sketches of her, had he made her that happy to begin with?

“I guess I’ll go ahead and turn in then,” She said with a shine to her eyes that he hadn’t seen on her before, but he recognized it still because even boys cried.

She said goodnight and took her plate to the kitchen before heading to her house without looking back. It was all going on behind Gally’s back and he couldn’t look at her without making it obvious, but he watched Newt watching her, his longer hair hiding his gaze from others around him.

“I’ve gotten it all wrong haven’t I?” Newt sighed after Nikola disappeared from his view.

“How’s that?” Gally asked, suddenly not so hungry anymore.

“I think you’re the one who has her wrapped around your finger,” Newt clarified making Gally blush again against his will.

“I don’t,” Gally tried to argue quietly and just earned a disbelieving look.

“You best be very careful,” Newt warned. “No one says anything around you because they know you’re protective of her, and you can beat them to a bloody pulp, but there are some boys who would be very sore if she was taken. I know you can take anyone one-on-one but I don’t know if you could take them all at once, and I’m afraid it could come to that.”

“Who is saying what about Nikola?” Gally demanded.

“Oh god, it’s mutual pining,” Newt sighed to himself tiredly as he rubbed his face. “I’m not going to tell you that because you can’t act like you don’t know and you’d end up in trouble any way. For her sake and yours just tread carefully.”

“I don’t want things to go backwards. She trusts me, she knows I’d do anything to protect her,” Gally spilled without meaning to.

“If you’re willing to do anything than do this, just back off a bit when others are around,” Newt suggested.

When Gally didn’t say anything to that Newt just shrugged and took his dishes back to the kitchen. Gally sat there at his table alone, deep in thought and murky, unhappy feelings. He stayed there so long, Fry came over himself to take his dishes to the wash. He sat there till all the others had gone to bed, knowing his thoughts would keep him awake anyway.

~~~~~

A few days passed where Nikola and Gally did the last thing on earth they wanted to do and kept their distance most of the time. But when they did get a chance to interact they both made an effort to subtly assure the other that it wasn’t personal, that nothing had changed between them.

Nikola was sitting up in her house with various scraps of things arranged on her floor and was figuring out how to recycle them into something useful when Newt called up to her. She went out on her balcony and frowned when she saw his face.

“I need you to come with me,” he said apologetically. “It’s a gathering… of sorts.”

Her heart plummeted. She was shaking as she tried to go down her ladder and it made it difficult. She didn’t say anything as she walked with Newt, her mind racing with so many things at once and her stomach feeling twisted beyond untangling.

When she stepped inside she saw Alby, Gally, and Shawn. She narrowed her eyes slightly at the latter even though she was trying very hard not to give any of her emotions away. Gally didn’t seem happy with him either and Alby just looked completely impatient. Nikola just looked at him, not willing to say a word until she knew what was going on.

Alby reached out and handed her a piece of paper. “Did you write this?”

She looked at him doubtfully as she plucked the paper from his hand and then looked down to read it, immediately seeing it was not her handwriting before she took in what it said. “No, not my handwriting,” she said quickly and passed it back.

“Read it, will you?” Alby said as he pushed it back.

She sighed but complied.

“It’s time for me to wash my sheets, why don’t you come and help me get them real good and dirty first? It was so fun last time.”

She hid her disgust and tried to morph it into confusion instead. She looked at the boys standing around her. “What the shuck does that mean?” she asked Alby like it was Greek to her.

“Shawn says he saw you and Gally washing your sheets very late one night, and Gally wasn’t fully dressed. Said you seemed very… close,” Alby explained, glancing at Shawn who had clearly orchestrated this whole thing.

“And the first conclusion you jumped to was that we were screwing?” She asked Shawn directly, as flat as possible. “No wonder you faked a note, if that’s all you’ve got to support that theory.”

“She didn’t deny it,” Shawn pointed out smugly to Alby.

“Right, because I was up late one night, I was washing my sheets, and Gally was helping me,” She admitted easily. “That all happened because I started my period in the middle of the night and had to clean blood off myself, my clothes, and my sheets before the stains set.” Everyone but Gally looked uncomfortable as soon as she said period. “And before he tells you he saw me write this note to Gally, I did write Gally a different note about taking the spare scissors when I did the mending. I can get the med journal and show you an example of Shawn’s hand writing and my own if you want, but Newt also heard me talk to Gally about the scissors that day as well.”

Newt nodded to that and Alby threw an unhappy glare at Shawn’s now pale and unamused face. “I think we’re good here, you two can go,” He said to her and Gally, his gaze still fixed on Shawn.

Gally had fixed Shawn with a glare of his own and didn’t seem to be going anywhere, even as Nikola headed toward the door.

“Gally,” Newt said with a warning tone.

Gally let his arms uncross themselves slowly, eyes fixed on Shawn for as long as he could before walking away and following Nikola out the door.

She was out there squinting in the sun waiting for him.

“At least that was easy right?” she commented as they fell into step with each other. “I know that means it’ll only be worse the next time though. I’m sorry Gally-“

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” He blurted, some of his anger at Shawn coming out in his tone with her. He stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath to calm down, then looked up to see her anxious face staring up at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he repeated more softly, “And neither do I. He’s an idiot, and I don’t care what else he does, you’re my friend and I’m yours and I won’t allow any amount of childish jealousy to change that.”

His fists were clenched and his heart pounded in his ears. Nikola’s eyes were wide and he saw her swallow before she nodded vigorously.

“Yeah, absolutely,” she agreed. “Same here.”

Neither of them realized what it would take to keep that promise to each other.

Masterlist

@frequentlychangingfandoms @quackquackbi @poulterjonas @crazysheeplyca @pre-google @gladerscake @neilox @thesuitkovian @carp3d1em @cottoncandy-dreamxd @emilyhadenbaker

[comprised-of-magpies]

Some safety & survival tips

This isn’t something that I’d normally post, but with college starting I thought I’d share some tips I’ve gathered over the years for staying safe (edit: I was informed a lot of these are basic knowledge, but I’ll share anyway because you never know)

if a room in your house randomly smells like fish, check the outlets, melted plastic often gives off a fish odor and unchecked could start an electrical fire

don’t swerve for deer and risk you or your car, hit it, with the proof of hitting it insurance can help cover the damage (edit: sorry, I don’t mean to encourage killing an animal, and I know the deer can do some hefty damage, this is just if your options are swerving full speed into a ditch/other car, or hitting the deer, the deer might be a better option. obv if you think you’ll be fine swerving out of the way, do that)

speaking of ^, if you see a deer on the road and it runs off in time, keep going slow and stay on the lookout, there’s more often than not more than just one deer and you never know if it’ll jump into the road

however, swerve for a moose, you’re going to hit the legs and then you have 1500 lbs coming thru your windshield

if you’re in a dark, unfamiliar area, keep the keys handy, for one the key itself can easily be used as a weapon, two if you set off a car alarm it might grab someone’s attention if you’re in danger, or at least deter someone threatening you

try not to be wearing heels if you know you’ll be in the situation above. first of all, everyone knows it’s hard to run in heels, so an opportunist will likely target someone that won’t as easily get away. secondly, it just hurts to run in them. I was out past 10pm walking several blocks to where I parked my car and noticed two guys tailing me, and while my heels were thick and only about 4-5 inches, running a block to my car in sheer terror left my ankles beyond sore the next day, and I can only imagine how catastrophic it would’ve been if my foot got caught in a hole or if my ankle twisted.

if the water retreats quickly and farther than normal, pack it up and run, that’s a sign of an oncoming tsunami

stranded in the cold? don’t stop moving. shaking and shivering is good, that’s the body’s way of trying to stay warm, if you suddenly stop shivering, it means your body has given up and you’re past the point of it being able to warm itself. don’t let someone take their clothes off either in the cold. this sounds weird and obvious, but when you’re exposed to hypothermia-inducing conditions for so long, your nerves get fried, and you start thinking you’re boiling alive and don’t contain rational thought anymore

if you haven’t eaten or drank anything for a period of a couple days, pace yourself when food/water is available. If you consume too much immediately after starving, that’s a massive shock to your system. When concentration camp survivors were freed, they were given too much food for their malnourished bodies to process, and that’s fatal.

if vomit/poop is like black tar or coffee grounds, see a doctor, that’s a sign of internal bleeding (obv periods for girls are different, if menstrual blood is like coffee grounds there’s a good chance it’s just really, really old blood, but it’s still a good idea to check in with a doctor)

a lot of predators (I know at least mountain lions/cougars) are deterred from attacking if they see your face/eyes

if you’re hitting the gas pedal, and the tachometer is moving, and the car is not, you’re hydroplaning. Your first instinct is to hit the brakes. DON’T HIT THE BRAKES. Your best bet is to ride it out, gradually slow down, try and let other cars know what’s going on, pull over and calm down.

car windows are strongest in the middle, aim for the edges or corners

911 should work anywhere (even other countries), SIM card or not, for free, so don’t waste time scrambling for change at a pay phone

if you’re in a pool and the water tastes metallic, get out, there’s an electrical short in the water

a seriously upset stomach is another sign of a heart attack

if you’re getting manhandled into a van, don’t fight fair. fight to get away as soon as possible. elbow or palm to nose, heel to toe, thumbs or elbows to eyes, knee to groin, strike the ears, nails to throat, do whatever you can and make as much noise as possible. don’t get taken to a secondary location

don’t punch the face, punch the throat. no matter how weak you are, a fist to the windpipe is enough to stun anyone

the flesh on the underside of the arm is fragile. try pinching it, it hurts right? even lightly? pinch someone there hard, and PULL. you can tear out muscle fiber and tendons doing that, and it’ll hurt. a lot.

if you think you’re in danger, call someone, or even just pretend to call someone, and then make plans, loudly. even fake plans work, just make them soon. if someone is following you, knowing that you’ll be expected somewhere/your absence will be immediately noticed is sometimes enough to ward off the very unfriendly folk.

it’s worth it to keep pepper spray, I accidentally indirectly caught myself with it when testing to make sure it works, and the smell alone made me tear up. I was coughing and blowing my nose for several hours after, so imagine spraying it in someone’s eyes, the intended use.

it’s worth shining a light in the backseat of your car, especially if you left it unlocked. the previously mentioned unfriendly folk have used the method of laying in the back waiting for you to enter the vehicle, so a couple seconds to check can’t hurt.

keep valuable looking items away from windows, this hopefully lessens the chance a burglar will choose your house

be wary of a big truck or van parked next to your driver side door, that’s also a kidnapping tactic. It’s worth it to get in on the other side—lock the doors immediately—and crawl over

be wary of someone stopping you and asking you for directions, if you’ve seen a dog, etc, as opportunists prey on your inclination to be helpful (obv it’s not bad to want to help people, but don’t be afraid to say “no, sorry” and keep moving, this is how Ted Bundy lured in his victims)

if someone grabs you, drop your body weight. rag doll, go limp. the attacker will likely have to adjust his grip. If they manage to keep ahold of you, don’t try and pry away their hands, try and grab their thumbs and BEND

if you’re aware you’re having a heart attack, force yourself to cough, that’ll keep the heart pumping

You’re better off screaming “FIRE!” than “HELP!”, as people often don’t want to get involved, which is sad and frustrating but true, but a fire involves everyone around you

if you’re struggling to light a (gas) stove, and it’s making the clicking noise but there’s no flame, wait for awhile because now there’s gas in the air that depending on how many times you tried to light the stove, wouldn’t be a good idea to light

when giving cpr: dominant over nondominant, to the center of the chest between the nipples. it helps to hum Staying Alive, as the tempo aligns with the cpr treatment. don’t stop if you hear/feel a rib crack, bones mend, a stopped heart doesn’t

tip from firefighters: search rooms with the back of your hand. if you think a room is on fire, feel the metal door handle with the back of your hand, that way if it’s hot you burn the back and don’t reduce your ability to grip things. this also prevent grabbing ahold of an electrical outlet with a current in it, the electricity invading your body will contract your muscles making you unable to actually let go of the outlet

Keep adding your own please! This is a very short list, and you can never know too much on safety precautions