#us two r the only ones in my family with curly hair so its a struggle bc i barely know what im doing but im happy he comes to me for help

[acidsaladd]

coaching my lil brother thru trying something new with his hair as if i know what im doing

[arte-mik]

This summer, I participated in a test of courage. I played a game of Hyakumonogatari kaidankai with a group of people on the internet. I was entry 60 and 63.

60) My "Brother's" Prank

This story happened when I was in college. I was coming home one night at nearly 11PM. I was across the street from my house when I heard the sound of footsteps following me. I would have been mortified at the thought of a stalker, but I was put at ease by the sound of snickering. This was no stalker. This was a prankster.

I was relieved of any fear when I reached our gate and saw the shadow behind me was that of a tall man with a clump of curly hair at the top of its head. This was the very description of my younger brother, M—. M—probably saw me while he was buying from the store across our house and decided to sneak up on me.

I thought that since we was going to prank me, I should prank him, too. I would lock him outside, at least for a few seconds.

I took my time with the lock, all the while I could hear him snicker, and feel every breath hitting the stray hairs at the top of my head, and see his shadow bouncing with glee, too.

When I finally turned the key, I quickly slid in and locked the gate behind me. For about 30 seconds, I thought he was too shocked to move, so I went over and looked, and M— was nowhere to be seen.

I decided to set my bag down in the house before I went looking for M—, but I was surprised to see him in the dining room when I came in. I tried to rationalize it at first. He probably came in through the garage, I thought, but the more I thought about it, the less sense any of it made.

First, if he came through the garage, I would have heard him. Second, we rarely lock the gate when we're just going to the store across the street. Besides, the store was already closed by the time I got there. Lastly, if the footsteps were so clear when I was being followed, why didn't I hear anyone scrambling to hide when before I came back to check on M—?

I don't have proof that that was ghost, but I'm definitely sure that that was not my brother.

___________________________________________

63) On A Bridge

When my grandma was a young girl in the 40's, she lived in a very provincial town with farmlands and forests as far as the eye can see. Most everyone lived in huts with no indoor plumbing so when it was time to do their business, they would do it on a rope bridge over a river.

One night, my grandma went to the rope bridge near her house with her younger sister, R—, to "lay some cables".

R— was one of the "gifted" ones in our family full of multiple mediums, while my grandma was not. Grandma said that R— would always just tell her when they have an "extra" among them, and that was the only way grandma would know.

That night, the two of them sat leisurely on the bridge as they watched a particularly beautiful moon (as grandma put it) and unloaded on the river below, when R— stood up calmly, tiptoed around grandma, bid her good night, and walked home. Finding nothing suspicious about what R— did, grandma decided to stay on the bridge a little longer before going home, too.

The next morning, she asked R— why she went home early and left her all alone when the two of them were having a very pleasant time.

"There was a kid sitting beside you and smiling at us the entire time," R— said. "I didn't want to tell you because you were a faster runner than me, and you'll make it home longer before I could."

I'll play again next summer.

[soulwillower]

boyfriend stuff • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)      

requested: PLEASE FAKE DATING TO LOVERS WITH RICHIE PLEASE A WHOLE FIC PLEASE MORE

warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of sex, a bit of drinking, family members, richie has a little sis!! and i believe that is it but as always its unedited

[losers + reader are in college]

sorry i haven’t been posting much but i have this fic for u guys, hope u like it!

6k words yowza

♡

"you said what?!" you hiss, your stomach swirling, jaw dropped as the wind whips your hair around. richie's grinning, but it's not his usual up-to-something grin. much more of an i'm-sorry-i-ran-my-mouth-again  kind of smile, but it's still richie's, so it's impossible to stay annoyed.  

"well shit, doll. you know how i am! and it was my grandma, i couldn't let her down. she is crazy." he says with a shrug, his hand pushing back his wild curls as you glare up at him in his stupid striped shirt and awful, annoying, angelic face.

you scoff, crossing your arms as your eyes flick to behind richie, taking in the law library and some kids playing hackey-sack on the quad. birds chirp in the distance. "c'mon, toots. you can play my girlfriend for a few days, right?" he asks gently, making you look back to him, gazing into his hopeful expression.

you're silent as a warm breeze flutters around you and you weigh your options - honestly, what could go wrong by going to your friend's grandma's house and pretending to be his girlfriend for a bit?

"how far is the drive?" you ask sharply.

"yes, baby! i knew i could count on you." he yelps, scooping you in his arms and making you yelp, rolling your eyes. "i didn't actually commit to fake-dating you yet, richie. unless you pay me."

"100 bucks, kid." he says, holding your shoulders. you gape at him, "what? do you seriously need to convince your grandma and the rest of your family that you're dating someone that much?" you ask, eyes wide and a smile curling onto your lips.

this boy was ridiculous.

he launches into a story about how his grandma is super weird - nice, but oddly suspicious; like (as he puts it) red-scare mccarthy type suspicious, which doesn't do much to help his case with you.

he then lists on his fingers the reasons he needed a girlfriend and continued to insist, "y/n/n, look at me. nobody's going to believe that i'm single. i'm way too gorgeous." you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

"-plus, you're the only friend i have that is hot enough and tolerant enough to pass as my girl for a whole weekend. i would ask stan the man, but i already mentioned that it was specifically a lady-lover of mine, and i can't put stan through a weekend of bra stuffing on top of faking' it with me."

you scoff at his absurdity, following him as he walks towards his dorm and weighing your options. "we have to stay with your batshit grandma, tozier? and you're really gonna do all that boyfriend stuff?"

he just laughs, tilting his head up so the sun glints on his forehead and you have to tear your eyes away before you get too attached to the sight of him.

"oh, of course i am toots. i can't wait to treat you like you deserve, babe. plus, it's a small house. we'll be sharing a room, though." he mutters, slinging a heavy arm around you and giving you icy butterflies that thrash in your ribcage. you groan, "come on, richie. i'm only doing this out of the goodness of my heart." you mutter, shaking your head as he sweeps the door to his building open and wiggles his brows. "and i have to share a bed with you?"

"you can curse my momma for bein' so liberal."  he says with a shake of his head, "you'll love her, though. she's excited to meet my girlfriend."

you fake a gag.

x

somehow, a week later, you're pulling yourself out of richie's beat up cherokee and sighing at the heat outside, watching as richie unfolds his body to his full height and sweeps an arm towards the quaint house across the street.  you walk to his side of the car and shake your head, trying not to think of the pressure of acting like a good girlfriend for the next two and a half days.

the drive back to richie's hometown was just as you'd expected a road trip with richie would be - cherry cola, loud music, a/c on blast as the summer warmth whips around his car on the outside, and a briefly awkward lay out of rules for the two of you to follow.

"well what about, like, rules?" you ask, feet balanced on the dashboard. he looks over to you, smirking as he hums along to the radio as it plays quietly. "well, like, what about them?" he asks, smacking his mouth and fake twirling his hair like a valley girl. you hide a giggle behind a glare.

"i'm serious, rich." but your smile gives way to your playful manner as you toss a chip at him. it hits his shoulder and he smirks - you're distracted, then, by how the faint morning glow hits his eyelashes, how his side-profile is sharp and angular but somehow also soft and subdued.

his hair is scruffy and placed perfectly as if he'd just rolled out of bed - though you know it took him a few minutes to make it look that way. he's wearing his stupid black corduroy pants and a long sleeve shirt that looks so soft you might melt and his lips are quirked into a wry smile.

richie's eyes are bright and teasing as ever, even on this early morning, and his teeth toy with his pink lips as he grins. you smile to yourself as you stare, because richie tozier is an artwork.

"y/n/n?" he asks softly, shooting you a soft look that really makes your fingertips tingle as you reach for your coffee. had he been speaking to you? you clear your throat, "richie, eyes on the road."

he chuckles but obeys, turning to look forwards, and you feel your heartbeat relax slightly. "okay. what about touching?" you reiterate as he keeps glancing at you, making you flush and your stomach thrash in tickle.

"you know i'm all for it." he wiggles his eyebrows and you scoff, shaking your head and pressing your lips together to keep down a smile. he's too much."-for real, though. what are you comfortable with? i can do any of that boyfriend stuff." he says, mimicking your words from the week before when you'd agreed to come, and you turn red again for nearly no reason.

you shrug. "well, touching is fine...but don't you think.... er- i mean, maybe kissing is just... a little weird? i don’t know." you ask, your stomach fluttering. you're not totally sure why, or you just don't want to address it, but you think that kissing richie might make things... different for you.

you ignore the feeling as richie nods. "yeah, i mean it’s not like my parents are gonna try and make us lock lips in front of them anyways." he mutters, making you roll your eyes, smiling out the window as the countryside flashes by in splashes of green and yellow.

"right, kid. you ready?" richie's voice calls you to look at him with a smile. "guess so." you shrug, your breath mixing with the warm afternoon air. the front door of the house creaks open from across the yard and richie turns to you, smiling devilishly and holding your bag in his hand.

"quick, they're coming. kiss me." he says with a lopsided grin. your stomach dips and you huff, "ew, no!"

he looks at you with a grin as you continue, "-you just had funyuns! that's so gross." you say, shoving his face as he tries to lean closer to you, making kissy faces. you can't help yourself from giggling as he smiles, "do it! c'mon, toots. plant one on me." "no, rich!" you squeal with another laugh, shoving him as he beams down at you. slowly, he pulls you into his chest and you lay your head, wrapping your arms around him. the proximity of your bodies takes your breath away as you breathe in the faint scent of mint, strawberry and cigarettes. it makes you relax almost completely and you're unsure when these feelings with richie started, but you're suddenly hyperaware of them and you think you might be in some real trouble.

"let's do this, y/n/n."

x

you'd expected meeting richie's family to be the most stressful part of your day, but it went so smoothly you were almost concerned.

his mom was taller than you but still shorter than him, and when he lifted her up in greeting it made your heart swell. next was his grandma, who was quite short and had curly gray hair. she hugged you and kissed your cheek and you immediately felt welcome as you met them.

then not shortly after, a fiery bullet with a black dress and light - up sneakers came barreling full speed at richie, making you blink as he yelled, "munch!" and lifted the girl up.

you met his little sister, who he insisted you call "munch," through a shy wave and a grin as she had her arms looped and face buried in his neck.

and then you smiled and pretended not to feel anything as you watched him tickle her and kiss her forehead.

throughout the day, it is physically painful for you to watch richie with his family. really, it is.

you know richie tozier. the boy who falls asleep at the library and drools on his textbook, the boy who ties people's shoelaces together at parties when he's just entered that drunken stage of "pranky richie." he's the dumbass who fell out the window of bill's dorm and into the bushes, the kid who was a huge nerd yet incessantly boasted about his 'very high' body count (which, by the way, you did not believe). he was the loud person at every party, the kind who drew people in out of admiration, fascination or loathing, he was the boy who got the highest gpa and also the highest amount of parking violations and speeding tickets.

but here, at home...

god, richie was incredible. he had a whole other side to him that fit in perfectly, like a missing piece to a puzzle that you didn't even know was incomplete. he spent as much time with his sister, munch, as he could - singing to her, brushing and braiding her hair, teasing her relentlessly, and making snacks for the three of you.

he even wore a tiara and a tutu when munch insisted you have a tea party - and he steeped real tea (which tasted like shit because he did not know how to steep tea), even getting out his grandma's fancy cups.

the way he treated munch was honestly the nail in the coffin for you, because the one thing you expected richie to be bad at was interacting with young kids. like, he swears like a sailor, is always bouncing around, rarely goes a day without a cigarette, and just all around seems like he'd prefer the company of an average-aged joe. but he is full of surprises, as you've learned.

x

it took almost six hours of driving to get to his grandma's house, none of which richie allowed you to drive, despite your insistence. so after a quick catnap, you'd spent the entire day exploring the house, playing games, and getting to know munch and the rest of his family. and so now, before bed, richie was upstairs showering while you were sitting downstairs at the kitchen table with his grandma and his sister.

you were left to your own wits with his family, which wasn't too bad, but you're nervous you're going to slip up.

"you are just such a lovely young woman, aren't you?" his grandma asks, sipping on her bailey's. you laugh, shrugging your shoulders. "you're too kind, really. you guys are just easy to be around." you say with a smile.

"now i just wonder, what made you settle with richie?" she asks, lifting a brow. you choke on the last gulp of your own bailey's, the warmth going straight to your stomach and the alcohol right to the head. you decide to go the joke route.

"i have no idea, i mean. have you seen those awful shirts?" you say with a snort. his grandma laughs sweetly, sipping again and seemingly forgetting the problem so you pull at your collar, willing for richie to come rescue you.

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"-hey, you can't judge my life choices, y/n/n, because you are one of them." he says with a grin, drawing you into the crook of his shoulder. "the best one, might i add."

you flush but just roll your eyes, knowing that it's just for show, but secretly yearning for that to be true.

he groans."can you at least pretend you think i'm charming?" richie whines,  "that costs extra." you say, then suddenly your eyes snap to richie's as you realize what you've said.

"costs?" his grandma asks, looking confused. you clear your throat, "o-oh, i..."

"she owes me gas money." "he owes me money for food."

you stare at each other - fuck. that's kind of awkward. richie's grandma hums in suspicion and your mouth feels dry.

richie suddenly guffaws loudly, shaking your shoulders as he nods. "well aren't we the cutest, y/n/n? okay, let's get you off to bed now." he rushes, shitty excuse doing nothing to fix the situation as he tugs your arm so you rise from the stool, then places your empty mug in the sink. he kisses his grandma on the cheek and hurries you upstairs, towards the guest bedroom where you're both staying.

x

the next day was when you really realized that richie tozier never stopped fidgeting. he was an anxious person inherently, so you understood this mixed with his adhd led him to tapping fingers, humming and bouncing his legs.

earlier, he'd had his arm secured around your waist (a foreign yet welcoming sensation) as you'd eaten dinner with his family. he was shaking his leg so aggressively that the table was vibrating and you loved it - you loved the uncomfortable but understanding looks on everyone's faces. you loved that they loved richie just as you did, you loved that they accepted him and teased him and hugged him and joked with him and listened to him like you did.

"what're you thinking' about?" he'd asked into your ear, loud enough that the others had definitely heard. his grin was nearly audible and you smile, looking into his warm eyes, "just you." you'd said simply, with a shrug. and as the words left your mouth, you realized you weren't even putting on a show, or ‘faking it' for his family.

you just really, really liked richie.

shit.

so now, it was well after richie's sister had gone to sleep and the rest of the family was up drinking, listening to music and telling stories. you really were enjoying all the embarrassing stories that fell from maggie's lips, her brain and body being well into a bottle of chardonnay and being more and more humiliating as the clock ticked on.

"-and he was- what was he, dear, seven?" she asks, hand falling onto wentworth's thigh. richie groans, "mom, stop. this isn't even funny."

you nudge him, "speak for yourself."

richie scowls then, leaning back against the awful floral pattern of the couch and pulling you into his side. you smile as you nuzzle into his chest, listening to his wild heartbeat as maggie laughs, "oh, rich. we're just teasing you because we love you."

you nod and giggle as he sticks his tongue out at her. his grandma speaks up, "how did you two kids meet?"

she sounds almost angry, and you're not sure why, so you laugh a little into your sleeve as richie leans up a bit as if preparing for a bullshit speech.

"well y/n was friends with bill first, you know. bill, mike, and her had a class together, and i always heard about y/n this, oh y/n that." richie starts. you smile as you watch him talk, recognizing that it really is the way you met. you'd figured he would just make something up.

"-but anyways, this one time, she came into the dorm because she thought bill would be there. it was just me, though. i was working on some homework or something, and she-she just looked amazing. seriously, i sounded like bill when i introduced myself because i stuttered so much." maggie shakes her head at that, but richie plows through, "and god, ma, she's so smart, she was so sweet i swear i almost got cavities just from talkin' to her for ten minutes. i have never been more star struck in my life, dad. i swear." he says, shaking his head. "later, after y/n left, bill told me he did it intentionally. the little wingman he is, tried to get us to hang out because he knew i'd fall head over heels in love. who couldn't?" he ends, smiling gently at you and brushing his hand on your cheek.

oh.

you feel yourself flush and then you smile at the carpet, your hand rising to grab richie's and lace them together.  you didn't know how damn thick tozier could lay it on - boy did he know how to woo a girl. even if it's all fake.

"meant to be, huh?" wentworth says, and you look from him to richie's grandma, then to richie. "guess so." you say quietly, leaning up to quickly peck richie's cheek and then telling yourself it's just for show in front of his family. it isn't.

it was only 15 minutes later that richie decided it was time to retire to the bed, insisting you come with him - but you know it’s because he’s getting very embarrassed. it was cute to see him flustered for a change. 

"goodnight!" you call, waving to maggie and went as they raise their glasses at the two of you, maggie with a knowing glint in her eye.

you both walk in content silence until you get into your bedroom. 

the music still plays downstairs, a melody of piano and guitar and maybe a quartet wafting up through the vents and creating an eerily romantic ambiance. slowly and wordlessly, richie puts his hands on your waist and hums nonsense as he sways the two of you.

without thinking, you melt into his touch and smile.

you wind your arms around his neck as you move with him, his meaningless humming setting your heart into overdrive - or, perhaps, it's because of the proximity to the boy in front of you.

"rich, nobody's here to see us." it's whispered, because you really don't want to pull away or to have him realize that this isn't what friends do, because you like it. a lot. 

"i know." he says it so softly, you barely hear it. but it's there, the words are out in the open, and you like the way they fall over the air in the room like they're meant to be there. the soft light of the single lamp, the ugly floral wallpaper, the smell of richie.

"isn't it nice, though?" he adds, almost like an afterthought. you grin down at the carpet below you, your eyes taking in his striped socks, his feet absolutely dwarfing yours as you move back and forth gently.

"yeah, it really is." you whisper back, lifting your head up to watch his owl-eyes as they stare back at you, his chewed lips parted as small puffs of breath fall out, his nose splattered with freckles that you can make out from the proximity. he smells like chocolate and that damn mint smell again

"richie..." you start, your eyes trained on his lips as you slowly feel yourself leaning closer to him. he looks frozen, his eyes now changing from wide to almost hooded as he stares down at you. 

you wonder if he's afraid to move, because he's stopped swaying you and now his thumbs are rubbing circles into your side, slipping under your top and yeah, that's definitely new but it's amazing and you wonder if it's such a bad thing for you to want all this stuff with richie.

and to want more.

"yeah babe?" he asks and your brain marvels at how natural and unceremoniously the pet word falls from his lips, as if that really was your name.

but then - be it fear, shame, or anxiety - you mumble out the words, shaking your head. "did bill really try to set us up? l-like, was that all true?" you say with an awkward smile. you just clear your throat, eyes not focusing on richie as if you're looking for something, anything to occupy your mind because you can physically feel the tension and it's suffocating you.

"yeah." he says simply after a couple moments, arms still wrapped around you. you're now too nervous to look at him because he'll see how pleased you are, how happy it makes you that people want you and richie to be together. "all of it was real." he says and his voice sounds so honest, so genuine and so raw that you smile bashfully, looking at him shyly.

"oh, cool." you mutter quietly, fingers playing with the fabric on his chest. he chuckles and his chest shakes with the noise as he pulls you even closer to him. his fingers rise softly to cup your chin and he tilts your head so you're looking in to each other's eyes.

richie is staring at you with a sincerity that you swear you've never seen before; his gaze on yours makes you hear a soft guitar melody, makes you feel weightless and completely full at the same time, makes you taste adventure and strawberries. 

his lips are parting and if he were to speak to you right now, you're completely confident that you would not comprehend a single one of his words because you're too caught up in him. he's making you see pale pinks and blues and lilac and you swear you want to stay the subject of his gaze forever and ever, just you and him and the world outside this room. 

"cool, hm? cool is all i get, baby?" he asks softly, and the only reason you hear it at all is because you feel his breath on your lips and even though you said 'no kissing,' that was a lie - you think you might want to feel his lips on yours forever. your eyes fall shut as you grip his shirt collar, smelling his stupid strawberry 3-in-1 wash as you lean in closer.

and his lips brush yours so faintly that you swear it's like a kiss from a fairy; there and gone so quickly you aren't sure if it ever happened in the first place-

"-jesus, munch!" richie suddenly yelps, scaring you and himself as he jumps slightly, leaning away from you.

you look down, eyes opening to see richie's sleepy sister staring up at you two with wide eyes, her hand clutching richie's leg. "why are you up, kid?" he asks softly, kneeling to her height, hands leaving you. your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you try to catch your breathing, your fingers brushing your lips as you watch richie. did that just happen?

munch whispers into richie's ear, looking to the floor afterwards and you smile, loving how different the siblings are in personality and how sweetly richie treats her. 

richie looks to you with a bashful grin of his own, his cheeks glowing pink and making your heart flutter because at least he felt slightly the same way you felt right now.

"munch wants you to read her a story." he says, shrugging lightly, "you don't have to if you don't want to." he adds, his hand rubbing her head as she hugs his leg. you smile, "n-no, i'd love to."

richie rubs munch's cheek, "lead the way, kiddo." richie loops his arm around your waist softly as you follow her to her room, and you are pretty damn sure it's not just for show.

it took about ten minutes for her to fall back asleep, nestled in a mound of stuffed animals, blankets, and an old shirt of richie's that he'd left behind when he went to school. 

your own eyes droop as you lean your head onto richie's shoulder from where the two of you rest against the wall, stretched on the edge of her bed, and the last thing you remember is smiling at munch's sleeping figure before it's all blank.

you wake up again with a start as you hear a thudding noise - your eyes are bleary and dry, your back and neck kinked in the worst way and you groan a bit as you stir and lift your head. you look around and richie is standing in front of you, arm outstretched. wordlessly, you grab his hand and pull yourself to your wobbly legs as you look at his sister's sleeping body.

you're so exhausted and thrown off that you just follow richie wordlessly into your room and pull off your jeans, putting on shorts before flopping onto the bed next to richie in the dark. 

"g'night." he mumbles sleepily as he wraps a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you closer so he can reach over you to put his glasses on the nightstand. he falls back onto the pillow with a tired huff and you're already half asleep but you can't help your heart from picking up speed as a pair of lips press softly to your hairline.

you fall asleep this time feeling warm and comfortable, the feeling of his lips burning on your forehead sweetly. 

x

when you wake the next day richie’s already gone, the space next to you cold and empty.

 after getting ready, you pad down to the main floor to find everyone outside, munch and richie splashing around in the pool in the backyard. you're excited to see they've set up a lunch outside in the shade under the tree and you decide to go put on your swimsuit just as richie walks in.

"mornin' sugar." he grins, walking over to the kitchen sink. you snort, looking at the clock on the oven: 11:18.

"hey, sorry i slept so late." you mumble, your stomach filling with butterflies as he smiles genuinely at you. your eyes trail over his bare chest, dripping with water droplets as he breathes slowly. your mind flashes back to last night, and you shake your head, jabbing your thumb behind you. "um, i should go put on my suit." you feel awkward. 

he hums, pushing off the counter, "i'll walk with you."

you frown as he does, nervous about being alone with him again. you're being a fucking dumbass, sure, but he makes you nervous in the most delicious way and you can't help but picture his lips fully on yours. it's a terrifying thought, honestly.

"my grandma is being weird today, i think she's onto it because she said we were just really good frien-" richie mutters as you walk the hall and you cut him off, frustrated with his paranoia for no reason.

"rich, why does it even matter if she suspects us? it's not like she knows for sure." you try to reason, your hands falling on to his arms to halt his stride.

he’d just mentioned his grandma’s offhand comment about how close of friends you seem to be. maybe it was nothing, or maybe she didn't believe you. why did it even matter?

he shakes his head, eyes wide. "because that's fucking embarrassing for me! i have feelings, you know." he defends.  

you roll your eyes - you knew damn well richie had feelings. this was getting to be so stupid, this whole thing was pointless - because you know that you've just fallen in love with richie for real and made things ten times harder for the two of you.

"of course you do, rich, but we-"

the noise of footfall in the hallway to your left sends you both into a panic for no entirely good reason, so you tug him closer towards you with wide eyes. his hands catch himself on the wall on either side of you, his breath fanning on your face.

why are you so panicky and jumpy? "did they hear us?" richie whispers frantically, head turning to look and see who was coming towards you.

so instead of responding, for some reason your brain insists you act like a fool and draw his lips to yours. your hands cup his jaw as you press your lips to his, the feeling sending your stomach through loops and your brain fuzzy.

holy shit, this was exactly what you told yourself not to do. shit.

just as you pull back slightly, intending only for the kiss to be a chaste peck, richie's hands are on your body and he's pressing you against the wall, deepening the kiss as he tilts your head to deepen it. 

you're caught off guard, eyes wide as you throw your hands around his neck, kissing him fervently. your eyes close and his tongue prods your lip, taking your fucking breath away.

he tastes like sugary lemonade and you think you're melting, spiraling and falling deeper as you open your mouth. you almost moan out at the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, sliding your tongue against him just as a throat clears.  

you both pull back, alarmed even though you knew this was going to happen - but you're more alarmed at what the fuck richie just did than at his grandma staring at you. 

yeah, his grandma catching you kissing was sort of a huge victory in the 'selling the fake relationship' department, but it’s also a huge bummer for your 'pride and self-confidence' department.

“shouldn't you two be outside?” she says, a small smile on her lips. you let out a quick breath, unable to fucking speak after what just happened. you faintly think you can hear richie saying something to her and then she’s shaking her head with a smile and walking towards the backyard. you blink,  your fingers still hovering over your tingling lips. then, you snap out of it and turn to richie.  as you shove him up the stairs, you yelp, "if you ever kiss me like that again-"

"oh, shut up, you liked it!" he fights back as he turns toward the room you're sharing and lifts a brow, "you opened your mouth for tongue-" he starts but you screech, rushing through the doorframe and shutting the door a little to loudly, "i did not!" you hiss, shoving his shoulders and hiding your smile.  

he stares at you, a grin on his face and eyes teasing. "-then why'd you lick mine when i stuck it in your mouth?" he’s shrugging. you want to punch him in embarrassment because holy shit, is this not a big deal to him?

your eyes widen and you scrunch your face, "god, you're disgusting, just-" you sigh, shaking your head.

your heart is thumping wildly in your chest and you have to physically hold your hands down by your sides so you don't reach up and tug at the stray curl on richie's forehead.

"doll, all i'm sayin' is that was a good practice kiss." he shrugs again.

right. it was for practice.

he speaks up again and you swear he’s giving you a headache. "hey, i mean...since we're here, should we practice sleeping together too?" you turn bright at his words. "richard!" he giggles as you slap his shoulders and he mutters, "-yeah, no, i was kidding, sugar. damn, baby." he mutters, shaking his head with a grin so bright you can't help but share it. “i mean, technically we already did, last night and the night before. but that’s not the kind of sleepin’ i was talking about-“

you cut him off with a stern look and an elbow to the gut and he has the audacity to fucking giggle. 

your stomach tosses and flips itself sick inside of you at the sound and you sigh, giving him a look as he grins. you hope he doesn't notice the absolute heart-eyes you have for him at every given moment.

"cross my heart, sugar. totally kidding." he says, eyes closing as his fingers lazily trace an 'x' over his chest. "i'll wait out here for ya, toots." he says as he walks out of the room, leaving you to change into your suit quickly.

when you open the door back up for him, he whistles. "damn, y/n/n, you look fuckin' sexy."

you stare at him with a blank expression. "richie i'm wearing the same clothes as earlier." you deadpan, gesturing to yourself, having put your clothes back on top of your suit. he grins cheekily as he walks down the stairs, flashing you a wink, "i know that."

he rocks back on his heels. 

"so what can i do to show my love for you since i can't kiss you?" he asks, smirking. you roll your eyes, "shut up, richie. we're by ourselves right now, you don't have to do anything." you insist, pulling your hair back from your face. he sighs, groaning as if in pain. "but what if i just want to?"

you freeze, looking to him with wide eyes as your stomach drops. "do you really just want to?" you ask, mostly joking as your heart beat picks up. he takes a few steps towards you, shirt now on as his curls drip slightly. you watch a drop roll down his jaw and you swallow.

"yeah, i really do." he says simply, shrugging. "i’ve realized that i really do want to do all the boyfriend stuff for you."

you let out a shaky laugh, a smile falling onto your face as you raise your eyebrows. "for show?" you ask, and he shakes his head with a small laugh. "no." he says and you stare at him, unmoving. 

"so you’re gonna make me say it, huh?" he says with a smile that gives you full-blown butterflies as he pulls you to him. you smile back at him, heart melting into mush at the thought of richie being your real boyfriend.

"i think you should, just to be safe." you say with a grin. he smiles brightly, hand coming up to your cheek. his thumb rubs over your face.

"i love you, y/n." he says softly, looking into your eyes. "i want to be your boyfriend, and i want you to be my girl and i want to do stupid shit with you and have tea parties with munch, and for you to listen to my parent's embarrass me, and to spend all my time with you. i want all the boyfriend stuff, y/n."

you shake your head, "we already do that, rich. i've been yours this whole time." his cheeks turn pink and you love the way he looks so you add, "i love you too, richie. i really do. please be my boyfriend."

he kisses you, then.

it's soft, his lips like rose petals and his kiss like honey and it's quite different from your other kiss - both incredible, but this one with much more intention and love. it melts you completely as richie pulls you closer to him, his lips parting from yours slowly, a smile falling onto his face.

"what do you say then, want to go for a swim?" he asks softly, sending you a smile that is blushy and beautiful. you smile, pecking his lips. "sure, rich."

"c'mon, girlfriend." he says happily, tugging you down the stairs and making you grin stupidly, knowing this time for sure that it's not just for show.

//tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @toziershmozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11  @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman​ @diorbubs @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @baby-yoda-a \\

[followmybones]

Hi my name is rex, i’m queer and use they/them pronouns and i’m 15. And i would prefer someone not over the age of 18 plz. I do not have a gender preference when it comes to match ups. And i would like a Haikyuu and Obey me(ik when it comes to obey me they r demons so the 18 thing doesn’t matter) match up

have like a caramel colored skin-tone and im 5’3 (short king). Rn i have a purple-pink short mullet and i have pretty curly hair(the ethnic popped off hehe), im pretty chubby but i have an hourglass shape, im pretty busty(im a fuckin k cup bro😭) and thicc thighs(thicc thighs save lives, sorry i’ll stop). I dress pretty alternative but i cant just choose one subculture tho, i wear a lot of heavy eye makeup. I could say i dress kinda “showy” but thats kinda what only fits me, but also who gives a fuck.

Honestly I don’t really have a type. Tbh most of my relationships have ended pretty badly cause they ether only wanted something sexual from me or I was “too clingy” when i just wanted basic ass affection. But the most I want is someone who is physically affectionate (like kisses, cuddles, and hugs for days) also im ok with pda to an extent like i will hug and like cuddle you but im not gonna make out with your infront of others thats weird af.

My ideal date is probably a movie date, indoor picnic (i fucking hate bugs), or a take out/fast food and stargazing date.

Im a libra sun, scropio moon, and gemini rising. This means that im a pretty social person and always wanna hang out with friends and just have fun, but moon in scropio makes my emotions rlly haywire and kinda boosts any sorta negative emotion, which is hard when you have chronic anxiety and major depressive disorder. Which also means i take medication for it, which i forget a lot. And because of these things i have anxiety tics, where it ranges to making noices and twitching a bit to full on hitting myself and saying random shit. But I really like making people laugh, it makes me feel helpful, but im also good at being to mother figure for people. I also like playfully bantering with people, like i love you but will full on roast you and get into fake fist-fights. I am a bit of a violent person at times but I have a punching bag and boxing gloves which help a lot. But I only get that angry when someone uses an insecurity of mine against me or is talking bad about someone i love, cause it you do that im beating your ass. I do have a bit of body insecurities mainly about my hip-dips and stomach. But because im curvy i get hit on by adults a lot and its creepy as fuck.

My hobbies include art (painting, drawing), sleeping (because i stay up mad late😭✌🏽), reading comics, Marvel and D.C superheroes, and super villains, cartoons, and anime/manga.

My favorite music genre’s are rock, alternative, emo, rap, and a little bit if indie music.

Personality: funny, sarcastic, creative, kind, inappropriate and the right times. Like im not gonna pull out a dick joke in front of your family

My description for what i look like is pretty bad so here:

I match you with…

Tetsurō Kuroo!

Kuroo would probably be more “clingy” than you, and I feel like you two would be good together, or at the very least, your dynamic would be cute. Kuroo would find it very easy to banter with you, and I feel like you could get along alright with Kenma, which is very important to Kuroo. I also feel like you guys would generally get along, considering your personalities.

Kuroo would totally dance around it for a little, but eventually, he would be the one to confess. It wouldn’t be too out there or anything. He’d definitely buy you some flowers and ask you out while offering the flowers to you. It'd be something simple, but he'd also try to keep it cute.

For a date, Kuroo would probably set up a fort in his living room and then collect food (probably take out and your favorite movie snacks) in a picnic basket so the two of you could “camp out” in the fort and watch cartoons and movies all night. He’d get super extra about it too; he’s getting an air mattress for the two of you to lay on, the fluffiest blankets he owns, and putting up fairy lights.

Your relationship would include a lot of Kuroo hyping you up, he’d be so starstruck with your style, and he’d adore you so much. Your relationship would be so silly and really sweet. I see a lot of teasing and inside jokes happening between you two.

Despite not having depression or much anxiety himself, he’d definitely help with your depression and anxiety in any way he could. He’s definitely familiar with anxiety, because of Kenma, so he definitely has some tricks up his sleeve to hopefully help you cope.

And finally, a runner-up matchup: Leviathan.

[lonelyreputation]

The Optimist (Baker AU)

A/N: Hi! Hi! Baker!Shawn is here and as soft as ever! My mind is a bit scattered at the moment, but I can promise you it’s throughly edited!! Anyway…How is everyone doing?! I hope you had an enjoyable weekend!! 

Annnnd thank you for 100 followers! I've only returned to writing a couple of months ago, so thank you!!! You all are too kind and sweet :’) I have a lot of things written in my docs that just need some editing––so stay tuuunneed  

THANKS A MILLION for all of your support! Your kind words are music to my ears and really encourage me to write more!! Reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated!! 😌💞🌻 

REQUEST/PROMPT: Night wind carrying the scent of freshly baked bread 

Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: none :) 

Word Count: 3.6K

You leaned your back against the brick wall, resting your head against the cold brick as you looked up at the stars twinkling in the sky.  Seven minutes, I’ll give you seven minutes, your manager had said to you after you begged to have a little bit of a break after you had just finished serving a rude table.

In through your nose––don’t cry–––Out through your mouth.

You hated waiting tables.  You hated having to plaster on a fake smile at every table.  And you hated having to walk with an extra pep in your step when you were on your feet for four hours.  Most people you waited on were generally pleasant, but there would always be a table or two during a shift that would be act absolutely monstrous.

You pinched your eyes shut––don’t cry––as a soft breeze made its way down the little alley way you had escaped to.  You were sure that at least four minutes of your little break had passed and you dreaded having to walk back in with a sickeningly sweet smile on your face.

“Are you alright?”

You opened your eyes and turned your head to the right.  Standing inside the doorway of the building behind yours was a tall boy with curly brown hair.  He was wearing all white, but the apron tied around his front was stained with various shades of tan, and like the swipe of flour he had on his cheek, his apron was also dotted with spurts of flour.  He smelled of burnt sugar.

“Yeah, I’m––“ you sniffled as you brought the sleeve of your forearm to wipe under your nose, “I’m fine!  Don’t worry.” You had put on your well-trained fake smile in front of the boy.

He wrung out the white towel he held between his hands, he didn’t look convinced, “I tried walking back in, but then I thought you were gonna cry so I came back out.”

An awkward silence filled the air around you as you continued to study him.  He looked unsure of himself.  He seemed as if he wanted to help, but had no idea as to how to help you.  

“You work at The Optimist?” You recalled the name of the bakery that was located behind the restaurant you worked at.

He nodded his head with a genuine smile, “Yeah––I’m Shawn, by the way,” he took a few steps forward, crossing over from the bakery’s domain of the alley way onto the restaurant’s side and stuck out his hand for you to shake.

Scrunching up your eyebrows you hesitantly reached your hand out to connect with his.  He looked to be around your age, early twenty’s, and you didn’t know the last time you had shaken hands with someone your age when introduced.

Shawn dropped your hand, “And you work at The Sunflower?” 

You grimaced and Shawn took notice; his smile dropping into one of a sympathy.  You were about to introduce yourself, but one of your fellow waitresses skidded out the back door with wild eyes.  

“Y/n,” she sounded like she was relieved to have found you, but her tone was urgent and her eyes held terror, “You were supposed to be back two minutes ago, Diane is going insane looking for you.”

At the warning your friend gave you, your eyes doubled in size as you quickly tightened your pony tail––that no doubt had tiny strands flying about that didn’t make it into the hair tie––and bid the baker a quick farewell, “It was nice talking to you, Shawn.”

“Nice meeting you, Y/n.”

You didn’t get to see him as you quickly rounded the corner and rushed back inside before your manager, Diane, laid into you for taking a longer than necessary break.  

•••

Two days later, you found yourself back in the alley way.  And this time instead of begging for a break, you were allowed a whole hour to yourself since you were working a double shift.  You spent the first thirty minutes eating a dinner you brought for yourself, the next fifteen minutes sitting and staring at a wall, and then something in the back of your mind kept nagging you to head to the alley way.

The alley way smelled sweeter than the last time you were here.  The back door to The Optimist bakery was propped open and you were able to smell the aroma coming from inside.  You took a deep breath, hypnotized by the scent of yeast, and let it out only to take another deep breath in.

The smell was stronger than before, hot baked bread must’ve come right out of the oven, you thought.  It reminded you of your grandmother’s house where she was constantly baking loaves sourdough; warmth, comfort, and full of love. 

You caught a whiff of rosemary and closed your eyes in satisfaction.  Whatever bread they were baking in there was full of herbs that flowed out into the street.  If Heaven was on Earth, it would be in this alley way; just you savoring your time alone as the smell of bread breezed out into the night.

“Y/n?”

You opened your eyes to see Shawn standing in the doorway, wearing a concerned face much like the one he wore two days prior when you first met.

“Shawn, hey,” You greeted him with a genuine smile.

He returned his smile as his eyes lit up; he noticed your mood was considerably better than when you first met, “How are you?”

“Really good,” he tilted his head and squinted his eyes at you silently asking you if that was a real honest answer.  You let out a sigh and rubbed your hands over your eyes, “Kinda tired, I’m working a double today but I’m on a break now.”

“You seem better than a few nights ago,” he picked his next words carefully, “Are you feeling better?”

“I don’t want to bore you–––“

Shawn shook his head with a soft smile.  He sat down on the curb and patted the spot next to him for you, “Tell me all about it.”

You crossed over from the restaurant side to the bakery and sat close to your new friend.  You were only sitting about an inch away and you were able to catch a sniff of the sweet smell of the bakery from his apron, “Just some people being rude, it happens a lot so I’m used to it, but like when they start to question my capabilities? And talk about me when I’m serving their food as if I’m not there?” You sniffled as the memory of the dad of the family made a passing comment to his kids how if you don’t have any aspirations in life, you’ll end up like her replayed over and over.

“Hey,” Shawn curled an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close to his side, “Some people are jerks, it sucks, but you’re a better person than they are,” his hands started to rub up and down your arm in a comforting manner, “Because it would never even cross your mind to disrespect someone right in front of you, and that says a lot about your character.”

You took a chance and leaned your head on his shoulder, “I think everyone should have to wait tables at some point in their life,” you sniffled out a laugh.

“That,” Shawn agreed with you, “or work in retail.”

You let out another laugh in agreement and the two of you stayed snuggled up next to each other.  Shawn continued to rub a comforting hand along your arm, pulling you closer into his side, and it was almost as if your head fit into his shoulder like a puzzle piece.  Shawn knocked your knees together which caused you to let out a giggle and a small smile.

“What time are you done?” He questioned.

You scrunched up your eyebrows and bit the inside of your cheek, thinking about his question, “Around eleven or eleven thirty? Depending what time the last table leaves and we have everything stocked up for the morning shift,” you lifted your head off his shoulder, already missing the close contact with him, looking into his eyes, “Why?”

He wore mischievous smirk, “Do you want a loaf of bread?”

“What?”

Shawn leaned his head back as he laughed at your confused face; eyebrows tightly pulled together with your eyes slightly widened.  He squeezed your shoulder tight, “I uh––I get a free loaf every shift, and I––Do you want it?”

“You don’t want it?” You questioned him, not knowing why any twenty-something year old would pass up the opportunity of free food, “You don’t have like a family to feed or anything?”

He shook his head, a long curl falling covered in flour fell out of place and dropped in front of his forehead, “I’m twenty-one, so I don’t have a family––or anyone––to share a loaf of bread with.”

He tacked on that he didn’t have anyone in a rushed tone, almost scared that if he didn’t get that part in, you would assume that there was someone else he would rather share his bread with.

“What bread did you just make?” If he was offering up his shift loaf of bread, you desperately wanted it to be the sweet herbal bread you had the pleasure of smelling all through out the night.

Shawn nodded his head with a smile, “Focaccia,” he said it as if he was reminiscing his favorite memory, “I’ll have a loaf of that out at eleven thirty.”

Before you could say anything else, your phone alarm rang, notifying you that you had to get back to work.  You let out a soft groan and rested your head back on Shawn’s shoulder, eyes closed, “I don’t wanna go baaack.”

“C’mon working girl,” he squeezed your shoulder one last time before pushing off the curb and reaching a hand out to you, “The sooner you’re back at work the sooner you can get your bread.”

You reached out and took his hand; it felt different than when you first connected hands in a handshake when you first met.  His fingers curled around your hand with care, his calloused hands from kneading dough were surprisingly comforting, and they were warm.

“I expect to be given nothing less than the absolute best loaf.” You held onto his hand for a bit longer before dropping it and walking over to your side of the alley.

Shawn let out a hearty laugh, “They’re all the best loaf,” he shot you a wink, “because I bake them all.”

You felt a blush creeping up on your cheeks, but decided not to face Shawn; you didn’t want him to know the affect he had on you at only your second conversation.  You shouted a see you later tonight over your shoulder and walked back into work with not so much of a fake smile, an actual pep in your step, and a little bit of flour on your uniform shirt.

When your shift was over, you raced back down to the alley way, quickly saying your goodbyes to the kitchen staff, busboys, and fellow waiters.  You were out the back door in no time and were met with the sight of Shawn holding, what you assumed to be the focaccia bread, wrapped in brown paper tied together with twine.

He handed the loaf of bread to you as the two of you made small conversation, him offering to walk you to your car.  Wanting to spend as much time with him, you accepted his offer, as he asked you questions about your day.  Unfortunately the walk to your car wasn’t very far, so the conversation was cut short, but Shawn promised to have another loaf of bread for you tomorrow night.

Once you were in your car and saw Shawn walking in the direction from where you had just come from––I swear my car is parked around yours, let me walk you, it’s no big deal––you rolled your eyes at his blatant lie and placed the bread in your passenger seat.  But what you hadn’t noticed before was a little message written on the brown paper with black sharpie.

Let’s get this bread! Haha, but really, I made this loaf extra special just for you :)

•••

Every other night you had worked for the next few weeks ended in the alley way with Shawn delivering you a loaf of bread and walking you to your car at night.  You had come back to your apartment with loaves of rye, ciabatta, baguettes, and even a Portuguese sweet bread.  With every loaf of bread you brought home, your roommate raised an eyebrow, her interest peaking with your new fascination for carbohydrates.

It was your day off, and while you normally spent it lounging about or going for a walk, you decided to pay a visit to Shawn at The Optimist.  While you normally would avoid the area where you work on your days off, you found yourself excited to be there for once. 

You parked your car in front of the bakery and flipped down the mirror to make sure you had nothing in your teeth before walking in.  Once you were out of your car and locked the doors, you threw your keys into your canvas tote bag and walked toward the navy blue front doors.

With each step, your heart rate began to increase.  You told yourself to calm down, that it was only Shawn, but for some reason that only made you even more nervous.  Nervous, but excited to see him.

A little bell chimed when you walked in and a voice as sweet as the pastry selection smelled, greeted you, “Welcome to The Optimist!”  She looked to be about seventeen; her uniform had her name stitched in cursive on the left side of her black collared shirt, Amelia, “What can I get started for you?”

“Is uh––Is Shawn here?” It didn’t hit you until you were up at the counter that Shawn might also have the day off.

She seemed skeptical to give you any information about an employee, which was fair, working as a waitress you’ve had people come and ask if a specific person was working.  And it was company policy to not give that information out.

You didn’t know if it helped your case, but you started explaining how you knew him, “I work at the restaurant behind you guys and I’ve struck up a friendship with him and I wanted to see if he was at work–––“

“Oh,” Amelia’s eyes widened as a smile blew up on her face, “You’re the girl he brings bread to.”

You felt your cheeks get hot, “Uh…Yeah, it’s nice that he––“

“He’s so sweet!” Amelia gushed as she rested her elbows on the glass counter top and folded her hands together to rest her chin on top of them, daydreaming off into the distance, “He stays so late to buy you a loaf of bread and give it you.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t really have to––Wait,” You tilted your head, “He stays late?”

Amelia nodded her head, “Way late.  Like sometimes I wonder if he just doesn’t want to go back to where he lives––But his roommate has come in every now and then and he seems really nice so––“

“What time do you guys close?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Eight or nine?  Our store front closes at eight but then we have to clean and that usually takes us until around nine––“

“Is he here?”

“Shawn?” Amelia asked as if he hadn’t been your topic of discussion.  You nodded your head slowly, “Yeah, he’s just in the back.  I’ll go grab him!”  

Amelia skipped away and called out Shawn’s name in a sing-song voice, “You have a visitor!” 

You were only waiting at the counter for a few minutes before Shawn and Amelia came out from a back room.  You instantly smiled when you saw flour dusting on the tips of Shawn’s curls.

“Y/n, hi––Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

You picked at a loose piece of skin by your thumb, second guessing yourself if this was actually a good idea, “Yeah, it’s my day off and uh––I didn’t really have anything to do.”

Shawn let out a chuckle, “No, no…I’m glad you’re here,” his smile was infectious. He brought his hands around his back to untie his apron, “I’m gonna take like a ten minute break, is that alright, Amelia?”

He ducked his head to lift the strap of the apron above his head and hung it on a hook by the door the two of them had just come from.  Amelia started to ramble again, nervous that Shawn was going to go off far, but he quickly reassured the teenager that he was only going to be sitting at one of the little tables in the bakery.

Amelia seemed calmer and Shawn grabbed two paper cups, filled them with black drip coffee, and rounded the counter to you.  He handed you one of the cups of coffee as you followed him to one of the small circle tables in a little alcove that granted you some privacy.

It was the first time you and Shawn were hanging out not in the alley way and while it was nice to see him not in the middle of the night, it felt a bit out of place.  But you enjoyed the way the sun shinned through the windows and hit his face on all the right angles.  You even noticed a little scar on his cheek.

“Amelia likes to…Talk,” Shawn started off, “But she’s really sweet, real nice girl.”

You nodded your head and let out a laugh.  Her liking to talk was the understatement of the century, “She seems nice,” you took a sip of coffee, “But she also let me in on some details.”

“Did she?” Shawn smirked as he leaned back on his chair, setting his cup of coffee down on the white table.  When he crossed his arms over his chest, you looked down briefly to see how large his biceps really were; it seemed as if his white shirt was constricting his flexed muscles.  He seemed almost too muscular to be a baker.

You rolled your eyes at his nonchalance, “Yeah, like how you stay late?” Shawn’s smirk dropped, “And how you pay for the loaf of bread?” You waited to see if he would interject and say how she was lying, but he stayed quiet, “Why?”

Shawn shrugged as he avoided your gaze and looked out the window, “Dunno.”  You brought your foot up to his shin and gave it a small tap, edging him to say something else, “You seemed so…sad that first night and I wish I did something more so when I saw you the second time, the only thing I could offer you was a loaf of bread.”

Your heart melted at him expressing his want to cheer you up.  But little did he know, he offered you more than a loaf of bread that night.  He offered you an ear to listen to, then the next time he offered his shoulder, and now he offered you a friendship.  The loaf of bread was nice, but the non-physical possessions Shawn offered meant more to you than fancy bread.

“But staying nearly three hours or more after your shift has ended?” You picked at the top lip of your coffee cup, the white paper spiraling a little, “You could’ve been asleep, Lord knows how exhausted you must feel after working.”

You were waiting for another answer from him and you weren’t going to talk until he offered something––other than a loaf of bread––up.  He finally shrugged and reconnected his eyes with yours, “I like seeing you.”

It felt as if the sweet smells of the bakery infiltrated your body.  You felt warm, like hot bread that was just pulled straight out from the oven.  You felt comfort, like how the smell of sourdough bread reminded you of your childhood.  And you felt something else; not quite love, but more of an adoration for the baker sitting across from you.

“You could’ve just said that,” You said as Shawn twirled his foot around yours under the table.  A sheepish smile made its way onto your face, “I like seeing you too.”

Shawn’s smile shined brighter than the sun through the window, “That’s…Cool.”

You bit your bottom lip, trying your hardest to conceal the laugh that wanted to escape, but you also wanted to hide your growing smile.  All you seemed to do was smile around him.

“How about…” Shawn started speaking but his words trailed off as he looked at you.  His smile brightened when he saw your rosy cheeks, “How about I make dinner for you? I’m no chef, but I can cook a mean pasta.”

You let out a fake gasp of surprise,  “You mean you’re not a cook?!”

Shawn tsked himself, “Just a baker, sweetheart.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach; sweetheart.  You wouldn’t mind if he called you that a million more times.

“But this time,” you gave him a pointed look, “I’m buying the bread.”

[ameth18blog]

Unexpected Encounters. Chapter 10: The Search (Part 3)

Washimi and Gori were in the east of the city, they had just left Gori's apartment. The two friends reflected calm in their faces and ways of walking as when they were at work. They passed everywhere with their eyes fixed ahead.

"How long do you think it will take us to find them?" Gori asked.

"I ignore it. This city is very big, so they could be anywhere. We could take hours on this," Washimi replied.

"Well, if that's the case, then I think we should start there" said the gorilla pointing to the park, which was the same one they had visited the day before.

"And why there?" asked the eagle.

"If that was where Koka and Hana found the emeralds, perhaps we could find some clue of the others who came to this dimension because of them" said Gori.

Well, not a bad idea. Then let's go" said Washimi.

Both friends came to the park. It was not as crowded as the day before, and more considering what had happened the day before. It was noticeable that for that reason there were not many children, but there were few. Although it was noted that they were being cautious for some situation that seems suspicious that put them in danger.

"Washimi I have thought something" said the gorilla.

Her friend watched her without saying anything.

"Maybe those beings if they want to use my App when they find out about it."

"Don't tell me you've been thinking about that since yesterday."

"Of course, after years ago the app said that Haida and Retsuko were soul mates and it was 100 percent correct. And since it has come to unite other couples, I thought it could be extended to beings from other universes".

"Perhaps you think that the beings who are lost in this universe are at this time more interested in finding a partner than in going home."

"Of course there is, there is always time to find love and be happy with that other person."

"You never change".

Washimi lowered her head when she suddenly noticed that her communicator and Gori's were blinking.

"Gori, our communicators" said the eagle as she and the gorilla looked at her arms.

"That means they are close. I'm going to show you my application".

"Concentrate."

She could see those who were in the park were a lot of parents with their children, but she could see that some of them had unusual coat colors. They thought it must be them, so they calmly approached. There were a total of 5 families and each of them had children.

The first was a family of two male spouses who had two sons:

One was an orange bear and afro hair with dark orange sideburns. He wore a yellow disco shirt and pants and cream and orange platform shoes.

The other was also a bear, but he was cream-colored, wearing a red hat, a red robe, red pants, and red slippers.

One of the children was a cream-colored bear like the second adult bear. He wore a small yellow and red cap with a propeller on top, a long-sleeved yellow shirt, red pants, red and yellow shoes.

The other child was also a cream colored bear like the second adult bear and the other little one, although unlike the other bear this was a baby, it also had orange hair like the first adult bear, only this baby had curly hair and it was not an afro. He wore a long-sleeved red button-down shirt, yellow pants, and red and yellow shoes.

The second family if it was of two male and female spouses who had a son:

One was a green bear. He wore a green beret with a colored logo of varying shades of orange. He wore a button-down shirt and green military pants, black shoes, and a gray identification tag. On his shirt were orange stripes on his shoulders denoting his rank as a sergeant.

The other was a red porcupine, his quills were a darker red color which were full of flake-like dander. He wore a pink shirt and skirt and light blue shoes.

The boy was a red bear, which had a green abdomen. He wore a green beret with a colored logo of different shades of orange like his father's. He wore a white shirt, black pants and shoes, and a blue jacket.

The third was another family of two male spouses who had a daughter and a son:

The first was a green chameleon with three dark green lines between its eyes, above and below them. He wore a green beret with a colored logo of varying shades of orange. He wore a green military button-down shirt and cream pants, black shoes, and a gray identification tag.

The second was a cream-colored mouse with black ears, they had a stereotypical French-style mustache and black eyebrows. He wore a green beret with a colored logo of varying shades of orange. He wore a green military button-down shirt and cream pants, black shoes, and a gray identification tag. His ears were wrapped in white bandages.

The girl was a dark purple cat, she wore an orange long-sleeved shirt, a green skirt, pink socks and black shoes.

The boy was a green mouse with three cream-colored lines between his eyes and black ears, although unlike the girl, the boy was a baby. He wore a long-sleeved green shirt, blue pants, and black shoes.

The fourth family was another of two male and female spouses who had a daughter:

The first was a sky-blue boar, which had black hooves instead of hands and feet. He wore a dark blue sailor suit with white, including a white hat with a pink stripe, and black shoes.

The other was a purple sheep, with some white woolly hair on its head. She wore a white wool sweater, pants, and white shoes. She wore a purple bow on her head.

The girl was a hybrid, her fur was purple, she inherited her mother's nose, shaggy hair, hands and feet, while she inherited her father's ears, tail, and fangs. . She wore a dark blue dress, with a white ribbon at the waist, and black shoes.

The girl carried in one of her arms a green pickle that had arms, legs, eyes, a mouth and a stereotypical French-style mustache. She also wore a black top hat with a blue stripe. At first glance the pickle looked like a toy.

The fifth and final was another family of two male spouses who had a son

The first was a sea-water-colored sea otter, which had three whiskers on either side of its head. This otter was missing his right hand, instead he used a hook. Both legs were missing and instead had wooden legs. He was missing his right eye and instead had an eye patch. He was wearing a red and white striped shirt, which was ripped at the sleeves and bottom. She is wearing black pants and a black pirate hat with the design of a skull with white crossbones.

The second was a purple deer, whose antlers were pink. He wore white mime makeup, his cheeks were pink, over his eyes he had dark purple makeup. He wore a purple and white striped long-sleeved shirt, black pants, and purple shoes.

The boy was a hybrid, his coat was aquamarine, his cheeks were pink, he had a deer tail, but it was aquamarine on top and purple on the bottom. He had small horns that were beginning to grow on the top of his head and three whiskers on either side of his head. He wore a torn red and purple shirt on the arms and bottom, black pants, purple shoes and a black pirate hat, but without the skull and bones design. This child was a baby.

Something that all these families had in common was that most had rabbit teeth that protruded from their mouths, with the exception of the chameleon, the wild boar, and the hybrid between wild boar and sheep. They all had heart-shaped pink noses, except the chameleon and the boar. The irises in everyone's eyes were shaped like a pacman, except for the chameleon, the two mice, and the cat.

Just when they were about to reach the families, four of the children began to run in various directions while playing, while the three babies stayed playing with their respective parents watching the other children.

"Remember, you have to speak calmly with them, maybe they are still not used to being in this place" said Washimi.

"I understand" Gori said with all seriousness.

They both approached the adults. When they noticed their presence they were watching.

"Good morning" said the eagle.

"Good morning" all the adults replied.

"You come from another dimension and have been trapped in this universe for 3 months, right?" the gorilla said suddenly.

"Gori, I told you that we had to talk things calmly" said Washimi.

"Umm, excuse me. You know what that white light was that brought us here" asked the green bear.

"Yes, those who sent us to look for them explained it to us" replied the eagle.

"Well, before you explain it to us, wait a moment," said the aquamarine sea otter and then called the children who were playing.

When they heard them, they approached.

"Something happens?" asked the little cream-colored bear.

"These ladies are going to explain how we got here" replied the cream-colored mouse.

Really?" said the 4 children sitting on the laps of their respective parents.

Gori and Washimi told everything they knew to the 5 families in front of them.

"So we have to wait for the missing emeralds to be found?" asked the green chameleon.

"Yes, at the moment those who sent us to look for them have 3 in their possession" replied the eagle.

"Well, now that you know everything, you could tell us their names," said the gorilla.

"I'm Disco Bear and this is my Pop husband" said the orange bear with orange afro hair.

"Pleasure. And they are our two sons: Cub and Rory" said the cream bear, pointing first to the little cream bear with a hat on his head and then to the cream baby bear with orange hair.

"I'm Flippy and this is my wife Flaky" said the green bear.

"And this is our son Fluffy" said the red porcupine pointing to the bear with red color and green abdomen.

"I'm Sneaky and this is my husband Mouse Ka-Boom" said the green chameleon.

"This is our adopted daughter Denisse and our son Bomb" said the cream colored mouse pointing first to the dark purple cat and then to the baby green mouse.

"I'm Truffles and this is my wife Lammy" said the sky blue boar.

"This is our daughter Bella and this is Mr. Pickles" said the purple sheep pointing to the purple hybrid and the pickle.

"I'm Russell and this is my mate Mime. And this is our son Robby" said the aquamarine sea otter pointing to the purple deer and the aquamarine hybrid.

The purple deer didn't speak as it was a mime, but still he greeted them with a hand gesture.

After Washimi and Gori introduced themselves. They didn't find it strange to meet same-sex couples and with children, since they already knew several such families.

Then they asked how they got to that universe.

"Well, most of us had gone to pick up the children from school after classes finished, everything was normal. We are all neighbors, so we would go home together," said Lammy.

"Along the way they met Mime and me who were walking Robby and were on our way home. Everything was normal like any other day" said Russell.

"But when we were in front of our house, that strange light appeared that enveloped us all in less than 10 seconds" said Flaky.

"When we woke up, although we were separated, fortunately the children were not left alone, since Flaky and Lammy were with them when they got here," said Pop.

"It took us about two days to meet again, and since we got here we have stayed in a hotel with the money we have gotten by finding certain jobs that we can do," said Sneaky.

"Well, at least we know they haven't had a difficult time here," Washimi said.

At that moment Gori's communicator began to ring therefore he answered.

"Hi. Oh, it's your Retsuko. Yes, we have already found them. And you? How good! They left? Oh I see. Well, if we can meet there. Goodbye" said Gori after finishing the call.

"What was Retsuko saying?" asked the eagle.

"She said that she, Fenneko and Judy already found a group. She also said that they contacted Haida, Ookami and Nick and also found another group. I told them that we too" said the gorilla.

"That is a relief."

"But she told me that Sonic and his friends left, and Jack went with them. It seems they found the location of the master emerald and went looking for it before Eggman finds it."

"I hope they can find it in time."

"I hope so too. He told me that in the meantime we can go to my apartment to meet with the others".

They both turned to the 5 families.

"And what do you say?" Washimi asked.

"Do you want to come with us?" Gori asked.

They all looked at each other and agreed with a nod. The group left the park with Washimi and Gori in front, while behind them were the 5 families carrying their respective children in their arms.

"It's a shame" Gori said.

"What thing?" Washimi asked.

"That all of them are happily united, and they don't need my app and that the children are too young to use it."

"I think you need a new hobby."

After that they continued walking back towards Gori's apartment.

[mieldia]

Risotto Fluff Alphabet

So this is super log, so most of its under the cut. Its pretty self explanatory, but I am now enamored with this man

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive  the other?)

Risotto probably finds your hair the most attractive thing about you. Whether it is long or short he thinks it is beautiful/handsome and loves how it feels on his hands after a long day. Kinky, curly or straight he loves it

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Growing up, Ris probably really wanted a kid, but with capo business, it’s very hard to find the time to have one now, if he wasn’t a Passione member you bet he would be having kids with you. Adopted or not he would love them the same.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Risotto is a big man, you bet he’s the big spoon. Since you are most likely smaller than him he will try to be careful with you. One of his favorite things to do when you two are culling is to kiss the top of your head and whisper things. He’s just a huge softie around you.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Passione takes up a load of his time, so dates are rarely during the day. Most dates with you two are spent in expensive restaurants to make up for the lack of dates he takes you on.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

I feel like Ris would call you Zuccherino (From my research it means little sweet) Which makes sense because he’s huge but its also adorable.

 F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

It took a while, someone had to tell him they noticed him staring at you longer than usual or actually talking to you. After that, he had asked you on a date (He totally hesitated) and it went on from there.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

He’s bigger and much stronger than you. So he tries to be gentle with you, sometimes he loses control (Hrm spicy times) but he always tries to take good care of you.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Only in private, He’s really not a big fan of PDA so anything like that is reserved for when you are alone.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

His first impression of you was, simply put, nothing much. He just thought you were a normal person and didn’t expect to fall for you in that way.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

If he ever sees you talking to Melone, he gets a bit jealous. What comes after that strictly stays in the bedroom.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

You initiate the kisses most times, Ris actually gets a bit shy when he does it so you take the lead.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Honestly, you do. I feel like Ris would have a hard time finding the right time but after you say it for the first time, he will say it every night before you two sleep.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

His favorite memory of you is when you took a trip to the seaside. It was a bit windy that day but it’s one of his favorites. He would replay it if he could.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?) 

He will try. He is definitely not something on par with a sugar daddy, but every time you go on the rare date he will pick out something he thinks you would like.

O = Obsess (What about their s/o makes them obsessed?)

When you talk to him in a lovey-dovey way or call him cute. He never expected someone to feel that way about him so it makes his heart flutter every time you say something like that.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

I know its probably super overused. But he likes to call you Caro/Cara (Dear in English) is his personal go-to for you !!

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

I feel like Ris would be a total sucker for older music. He’d love to dance with you (In private) while it plays.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

He likes to stay in and cuddle you. That’s if he doesn’t have Passione business to attend to

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

He likes to think of times when you make him smile, happy memories of you get him out of whatever slump he could be in

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

He usually sees you a lot at night, so he likes to talk to you about his day or the stupid antics La Squadra got into that day.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Home-cooked meals, while he loves to take you out to restaurants he loves your cooking, (Even if it’s not the best) it fills him with a certain kind of nostalgia,

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

He’s an introvert so he doesn’t show you off much, but he will be proud of whatever you are good at. Whether it be writing or something else he loves it all and will show it off when he has the chance.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

hAVE I SAID HE LIKES TO DANCE WITH YOU? Sorry caps but if you get into it he will get on his knee and pop the question. Whether you say yes is up to you but he will be overjoyed if you say yes.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

He loves to think of you to Love Will Keep Us Together by Captain and Tennille, It might seem out of character but he doesn’t just listen to heavy metal. If he feels sappy he will turn on this song.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Yes, all the time. But he is a bit scared about it. He is really awkward about the timing too.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Risotto coins me as a cat person, so he would probably own at least one cat with you, that’s if you want to have a cat too

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door VII(Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Six Here

A/N: So, I kinda split this chapter into 2 parts bc it was so long. I’ll post the second one as soon as I post this one. I was also kinda upset bc I posted something this morning and there’s like… 2 notes on it (Thank you, fellow bloggers <3), so I’m trying to keep my mind off that.

But yes, you guys have been waiting for another chapter since February, so I’ve come to save the day (and your Quarantines)

Summary: John asks Roger for a favour.

(Read Roger as canonical, or Hardy!Roger, whatever brightens your day) 

WARNINGS: Mentions of oral sex, implications of sex, swearing probably, and maybe some errors bc I don’t wanna edit this

I’m putting the fic at a T, bc nothing really happens, but I advise to read at your own risk if you’re under 18

(Also, been waiting FOREVER to use this gif)

Roger hadn't fully crossed the threshold of the door to the control room at the studio when both Brian and John, both there way before him and Freddie, turned to him and called him over. 

 "Roger, do you know any sitters? Veronica and I are planning on going up and visiting her parents this weekend and we can't take Bobby with us."

 The look on John's face was clearly upsetting. He loved his son with all his heart, especially since Bobby was his first kid. It also probably didn't help that he was only a month or so old. 

 Roger wondered if there was ever going to be a day where he'd feel sad having to look for a nanny for a kid of his own. 

 "Just ask Brian to watch him. Surely Bobby would find entertainment in ripping all that hair from his scalp." 

 "Ha-ha. Very funny, Roger," Brian called back to him, arms and legs crossed as he spun around in his chair to face Roger head on. 

 "Chrissie and I are sharing our one year and I wanted to take her out this weekend." Roger shrugged. "Try Fred, then. He and Mary won't have a problem sitting for you, surely." 

 "Already asked, my Love," Freddie responded for John as he walked into the room, tossing a (fabulous, may I add) jean jacket down on the sofa pushed up against the back wall. 

 "Mary's visiting her father then, and I couldn't possibly care for a child on my own." 

 "You have like... fifteen cats, and you can't take care of a baby for a night or two?"

Fred just shrugged at Roger's question before taking a seat next to John. "Roger, do you think maybe you and Y/n could take him?" 

 Roger's face twisted in confusion. 

"Wait wait wait... us? Why us?!" 

 "Roger," John sounded desperate. "We will pay you guys! You can stay at our house! Everything you'll need will be there!"

 "John, I don't know..." 

 "Roger," Brian interrupted. The three other heads in the room turned to the curly-haired guitarist as he rose to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. 

"You can use this chance to prove yourself to Y/n." 

 "Prove myself? What are you talking about?!" 

 "Don't tell us you've forgotten about that whole family issue you've been having," Freddie tisked playfully. 

 "This is your chance to show her you're father material," Brian explained, slapping Roger on the back. 

 "Look, I get you all love Y/n, and you think it's funny if I make a fool out of myself," 

 "It is pretty entertaining," John defended with a smile on his face, to which Roger glared back. 

 "But," Roger continued as Brian's hand fell back to his side. "The situation is between me and her. Not you guys." 

 "... But have you even spoken to her about it?" John asked quietly, to which Roger sighed. "It's just... It's complicated," Roger combed his hair back with his fingers. 

 "We're just trying to help, Rog. We all know you're dying to marry this girl." 

 "Shut up, Fred," Roger mumbled through his teeth. 

 "I'm just saying, marrying her would be a real problem-fixer with the whole... condo situation." 

 "They're not even dating," John reminded. 

 "Pssh. Yeah. And I'm not a Hysterical Queen," Freddie finished, kicking his legs up on the console, being mindful not to hit any buttons with the soles of his shoes. 

 "Besides, I can't think of one person I know who fucks their best friend and doesn't end up dating them in the end."

 It was Freddie, John, and Brian who pushed Roger to even begin that arrangement with you. 

 He'd set the both of you up, all along! 

 Roger opened his mouth to give Freddie a piece of his mind, and Brian's hand was already gripping onto the drummer's shoulder to hold him back from literally throwing himself at the other, entertained, quarter of the band. 

 "Hey guys," all four of them turned quickly to the source of the sound, and it turned out to be you, peeking out from behind the doorway, and revealing five paper cups of tea. "Woke up and figured I'd be nice today." 

 "Aw, could you hear your ears ringing, my Love? We were just talking about you," Freddie drawled happily. Roger glared at him as he spoke while Brian and John watched the situation unfold.

 "Me? What for?" You began pulling each paper cup from its place in the tray, and handing them out to each band member one-by-one as John cleared his throat to explain. 

 "Well, you see, Veronica wants to visit her parents this weekend, and we can't bring the baby with us. On top of that, we can't find a sitter." 

 "Well, why didn't you ask Roger? We'd be happy to take care of Bobby!" 

 "Is that so?" Freddie sarcastically asked, taking a sip of his tea before setting it down and dramatically throwing his hands behind his head. He leaned back into a relaxed state, giving Roger an amused look. 

 "Well we tried asking your Honey over here, and he said you two wouldn't be okay with it." Fred, Roger thought, is really asking for it. 

 "First of all, very funny," you smiled as you began counting on your fingers, clearly unaware of the depressing look on Roger's face when you dismissed Freddie's label for the drummer. 

 "Secondly, I love Bobby, why wouldn't we be okay with sitting for him?" 

 You glanced back at Roger before facing John again. "And thirdly, even if Roger doesn't wanna come, I will." 

John's eyes widened as a smile broke out onto his face. "So is that a yes? You'll do it?" 

 "Of course, Deaky!" 

 "Perfect! You can stay at our house and everything so we don't have to send the crib or anything with you! You're a lifesaver, Y/n!"

 "Anything for you and 'Ronica, Johnny." 

 "Well," Freddie clapped his hands once before kicking his legs off the console table and onto the floor. "Are we all good to practice now?" 

 "We should be," John confirmed as he downed some of his tea before standing up from his chair and stretching. 

 You turned back to Roger, taking a sip of your tea."I gotta go to work, Roggie. I'll see you tonight, 'round dinner, yeah?" 

 "Sure," he nodded as the room around the both of you bustled with the other three members of Queen preparing to enter the recording room. You nodded, and you turned to leave the room. 

 Roger watched you disappear behind the door, and Freddie called him to help record. 

 Despite this, Roger set his cup of tea down on the coffee table next to him, and actually took off out the door after you. 

 He assumed you'd be taking the lift, and knowing there were some issues with its mechanics, he knew for sure he could beat the lift to the bottom floor just before you could leave if he took the stairs. 

 Sure enough, when the doors to the lift opened on the ground floor, Roger was waiting for you on the other side. 

 It startled you, and before you could chastise him for scaring you, he stepped into the lift.

 "Quick talk before you leave," he mumbled hurriedly as he shut the lift's doors. 

"What?" You frowned in confusion. 

 "Look," he sighed. He tried to ignore how quiet it was in the lift, but it was hard to do that when he was the only one talking. 

 "That whole thing... with John and his son... I panicked." 

 God, he could hear himself thinking. 

 "I don't know anything about kids, let alone babies. I didn't wanna take responsibility for something I don't know how to care for." 

 "And I do," you responded, offering a warm smile to Roger before taking another drink of your tea. 

 "Love, you've nothing to worry about. I cared for my cousin in high school when he was just a baby. I've no issue in showing you the ropes."

 "I thought you were iffy with kids, like I am." 

 "I'm just “iffy” with the idea of becoming a mother, and having children of my own," you corrected, nudging him in the arm when your comment didn't gauge a reaction from him. 

 You just figured the neighbours and their expectations of the both of you were on his mind.

 "Hey, it's not like any of our neighbours are gonna see us with Bobby. We'll be at John's the whole time, right? Out of sight, out of mind."

 "Yeah, I guess." Roger shrugged. 

 "Don't think this will change anything. We're doing this for a friend, not to appease the old people surrounding our condo." 

 Roger didn't say anything, his eyes cast to the floor. Of course this was bothering him, and although you thought it was for all the wrong reasons, he never admitted to you why he was actually uneasy about the whole thing. 

 "Roger," you sighed, rubbing circles on his back with your free hand. "We'll be okay." 

 You held out your pinky from your paper cup as a promise. "... Trust?" 

 Roger looked at your innocent eyes and hopeful smile, and that boy caved in so fast he hadn't realized he solidified the promise until after speaking. "Trust, Y/n," he breathed gently. 

 You unlinked your pinky from Roger's, and you caught him frown. 

 "Better not be moody when you get off work," you warned playfully to him, opening the lift's door. 

 "And why is that?" Roger lightly challenged back, trying a smile, and offering it to you when it felt right. 

 You turned on your heel as you walked out, eyelids lowering as you lazily grinned at Roger. 

 "Because dinner and a blowjob will be waiting for you at home this evening," you said matter-of-factly. 

 You almost laughed at the starstruck look in the blond's eyes, mouth hanging open, and face burning a deep red. 

 You tapped the lift's button to send Roger back to the floor he needed. As the lift's doors began to close, Roger watched you turn and make your way to the building's entrance. 

 "See you tonight, Drummer Boy," you called over your shoulder to him. The lift's doors finally shut completely, and Roger stood in absolute dumbfoundment until the lift opened again. 

 He really couldn't believe how lucky he was to be able to have you. 

 As a friend, and, of course, as a stress-reliever. 

He made sure to keep a smile on his face the rest of the day. 

 When any of the guys questioned him, he'd just respond with a shrug, the tips of his ears flushing the same colour as his shirt. 

 And when Roger got home that night, dinner was most definitely ready for him... 

 Though with the look you were giving him as soon as the two of you sat at the table, you both made a silent agreement to head upstairs and just skip to dessert.

______________________________

A/A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long to post. The next one will be up within the next 2 hours. Thank you all for being so patient. I love Y’all.

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[little-writings]

Jumin Week: Day 6 {Future}

Old and grey, you and Jumin spend the day together and wonder what could possibly come next in your lives.

Word Count: 2,556

Hello! I’m sorry I haven’t posted for every day, this week (Not Jumin week but just this general week) has been maybe the most stressful of my life? Probably not, but I’ve barely had any good days these past couple months so maybe it’s just wearing down on me. But regardless, I truly hope you enjoy this prompt and you yourself have a terrific day! Thank you, dearies <3

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Jumin woke in the morning with a yawn, the old familiar aches creeping in like the aged engravings of wood. 

The spot in the bed beside him was sunken but empty, the bedsheets spilling over onto his side with the familiar, albeit faded smell of your perfume. It brought a smile to his face, his crow’s feet growing worse every day because of you and your innate talent of brightening his days. 

He rose from the bed and his bones rattled in that curious way his father once warned him of. 

But funnily enough, Jumin hadn’t felt the years go by.

He remembered all the birthdays, the celebrations, and even the downs alongside the ups. 

Yet like a flowing breeze, it never weighed down upon him -- the loss of his youth never frightened Jumin. If anything a part of him had always looked forward to it. 

After all, it meant Jumin grew old with you. 

You both watched your hair fade to grey and wrinkles settle along your face in the nights full of quiet laughter where you’d draw along the outlines like one would with their palms. 

Jumin found you outside on the balcony you’d transformed into a garden years ago. The sky overhead was almost cloudy but patches of sunlight still broke through, a stream of such light spilling onto you in a splash of warmth. 

Jumin knelt down next to you, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head. 

“Good morning love.” He hummed, his voice low and crackling, far less smooth than it once was but far softer and kinder in turn. 

You smiled and leaned into him, wisps of your grey hair winding ever so delicately with his fingers as he wrapped an arm around you, easing you close. Even now, years, decades, since you met, you remained tethered at the hip. 

“Good morning!” You beamed, your cheeks rosy and bright. “Did you get the tea I left you in the kitchen? I just made it. It’s your favorite, lavender!” 

“No, I must have missed it,” Jumin remarked. “I’d be more than happy to go get it if you’d join me.” 

“And what of the flowers?” 

“Surely they can withstand an hour on their own. I can have someone come up and care for them if you’d like.” 

You paused and an amused tinge washed over your smile. “I suppose they could...” Your shoulders dropped with a sigh. “I don’t even know why I started this garden somedays.” 

Jumin chuckled and rose to his feet, helping you up in return -- neither of you nearly as nimble as you once were. 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I quite like your garden.” He glanced back at their blooming petals, a myriad of shapes, sizes, and colors. “I especially like your forget-me-nots.” 

“I would never not plant them!” As you both stepped inside you took a seat by the dining table and fiddled with your ring, the engravings weathered still just as true as the day you put it on your finger. “They were our wedding flowers.” 

“Exactly.” He took the still steaming cup of tea in his hands, his palms warming at the very touch. He took a sip and it warmed his entire body in an instant. “Do you want anything, dear?” 

“Oh no, I had honey and lemon earlier!” You sat back. “I watched the sunrise.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me? You know I would’ve loved to join you.” 

“You looked so peaceful!” You laughed and any symphony paled in comparison. “You used to so rarely get a full night’s rest -- I think you really needed retirement -- time for yourself... everyone needs it.” 

“I didn’t have anything to retire for, once.” He stood beside you, setting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it tenderly. 

“You and Elizabeth 3rd could’ve gone on a wonderful vacation together.” You chimed. “I think she would’ve liked that.” 

That sweet, darling cat with fur as white as snow and eyes like a crystalline sky had passed away years ago but lingered ever so present as though she never entirely left. Jumin still kept her collar hidden away in his coat pocket -- like she may appear missing the little chime of her bell. 

She was family, as much as anyone else, but at least she left in her sleep, peacefully cuddled between the two of you, purring so loud and so sweet. That was all you could’ve asked for. However, you weren’t afraid to admit that tears still brimmed at the edge of your eyes thinking of it. 

“It was a shame she never liked the leash.” Jumin simpered. “But without you, I don’t think our family would’ve ever been entirely complete.” 

“Well don’t you worry,” You patted his hand and tipped your head up to give a grin as youthful as the day you met. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Jumin softened -- but weakened all the same. 

How much longer could you truly keep that promise? 

When you were younger that statement was so easy to say -- there was no sort of inevitability weighing down on your hearts. You married, you had a family, and you were utterly and absolutely blissful. None of that had changed. 

But each and every day, Jumin woke up a tad bit more afraid that you wouldn’t be there beside him -- you’d be no more -- and all over again Jumin would be alone. 

The world became dark and cramped at the very idea -- it was a world that he didn’t belong in -- a world foreign to-

“Jumin,” You squeezed his palm, snapping him back to reality. “I’m still here. I’m okay, and so are you.” 

Jumin remembered to let out the breath caught in his throat and a weight lifted from his body he hadn’t even recognized -- like cinderblocks tethered to his ankles being unbound. He was here and now. 

“R-Right... of course -- I’m sorry,” He folded his lips sheepishly, trying to undo the knot in his brow. “What would you like to do today?” 

You stood up and wrapped a gentle hand around his cheek, your husband melting into the touch as if it were easier than blinking. 

“I think a walk would be good.” 

You always said that when Jumin needed to clear his mind. 

The streets had become quieter as the years passed by. Perhaps all the honking horns and antsy tires dulled in his ears, but it no longer popped and crackled along the streets like it once did. 

Jumin didn’t mind it -- if anything, it gave him more of a chance to notice other things. The people, their conversations, the sky, the shops, and you. 

You chattered about all sorts of things and Jumin adored every minute of it. The second he chimed in you’d watch with wide eyes larger than dinner plates and Jumin couldn’t even finish without a smile stretching from ear to ear. 

“You should’ve been a comedian you know,” You said as they dawdled, the clouds now having parted to reveal a sunny and warm afternoon. “I would’ve gone to every show.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“I love your jokes. I loved it when you’d call me just to tell me one you’d think of in a meeting.” You bit back a snort. “There was one -- it was my favorite -- about cats... shopping...?” 

Jumin was a tad bit embarassed that the joke came to him almost immediately. “Why don’t cats like shopping online...?”

 “They prefer... prefer a... a cat-alouge!” Like a firework, you lit up. Jumin’s heart swelled at the sound of your laughter, overwhelming anything else around you in a sea of warmth and wonder. Nothing else mattered. “Ah -- that’s it!” 

Jumin tipped his head to the side, smirking. “I don’t think my father would’ve approved of the career choice.” 

“He would’ve come with me to every show,” You mused. “I’d drag him if I had to!” 

“I sure you would’ve. I could always come out of retirement if you’d like.” 

“I only want you to do what you want.” You ruffled his hair, curly strands falling over his face. “But I would help you write your routines.” 

“Mmhm,” You shared a fond kiss and the faintest taste of tea still hung on your lips, sweet and warming. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll stay right here.”

“I think that works just fine.” 

With your arrival home came a rush of refreshing, cold air. The day was spent settled on the sofa with a book settled between the two of you. Jumin found himself enthralled with stories since he’d gained the time to actually read them outside the late hours of the night. Though, since you joined him, the two of you typically spent until those late hours of the night talking about the stories. 

It was nice to finally have someone to talk to. 

You brought that thought to his head often. 

Yet as the evening trickled in with its colors of orange, yellow, and red, you rose from your spot beside him and stretched your weary limbs. 

“I need to go check on the flowers. Will you be alright?” 

Jumin chuckled. “Yes, of course, love.” 

He watched you leave and listened to the sound of the door opening and closing with a faint tug of his heart. He knew it was silly, but he already missed you. 

Goodness, how ridiculous he felt. How much worse would this be when you couldn’t come back? Not because you wouldn’t but because you couldn’t.

What would Jumin do when there was no longer you to wake up to?

Who would he look for in the mornings? Who would he spill all his thoughts and questions to? Whose smile and laughter could possibly even begin to light up his days like yours?

Who could Jumin ever possibly love in the unfathomably unmeasurable way he loved you? 

Who could he spend his days with... if not with you? 

What would even be the point of those days anymore? Without you, the world felt cold and unnerving -- like those craggy old spaces in Jumin’s mind full of tangles and twists that sent chills up his spine and lumps in his throat. He’d already lost so much -- the one thing he couldn’t stand -- couldn’t make it through -- was losing you. 

Jumin’s vision blurred and a tear dropped fell to the page of the story still clasped in his hands. 

He blinked slowly, suddenly a single instinct blazing through him as he scrambled for his phone, calling you.

Jumin could remember the restless nights he called you when you’d first joined the RFA. The way he spilled open his heart like the cracking walls of a dam, and how you listened -- ever so patient, and ever so kind. 

He just wanted to hear your voice -- that was all. Just for a moment and he’d be fine. Wouldn’t he?

You answered. 

“Jumin? Honey, why are you calling me? I’m just on the balcony, silly!” 

“Love...” Jumin sat down, his leg thumping against the floor, restless. His voice threatened to break and grew softer by the second. “Could you promise me something?” 

“What is it?” 

“When... when one of us has to pass -- let it be me.” Jumin pinched the bridge of his nose with a shaky sigh. “I-I’m not ready to be without you. I don’t think I could do it.” 

You didn’t speak, and Jumin thought he might shatter. 

“Come outside.” You murmured. “Could you?” 

“Ah... of course.” 

The evening air was cool with the faintest tinge of stars creeping over the grand roofs of the skyscrapers. Perhaps were it any other situation Jumin would’ve stargazed with you until you were dozing off with yawns and heavy lids, but now all inside of him was a deep, black pit of fears breaking through in full force. 

You gestured to him to a pair of seats overlooking the balcony, ornate and aged -- just like the two of you. He sat down across from you, your hand settling on his knee before he could begin tapping. 

“Jumin, what’s going on...?”

“Are you telling me you haven’t thought of it?” He furrowed his brow. “Not even once?” 

“Of course I have. We’re not young anymore -- and no one can avoid death,” You answered gently. “But I don’t think it does us any good to be afraid of passing on.” 

You spoke gingerly, leaning close. “We don’t know what happens after all this. Who’s to say we won’t start all over again? Just a different life and a different place? Or maybe there’s an afterlife. Maybe there’s nothing at all.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Whatever it is -- wherever we end up -- we’ll find each other again.” 

“Darling, you know I don’t believe in fate-” 

“And who said it was going to be because of fate?” You scoffed, smirking. “I will do whatever I can to find you no matter where we are!” 

Jumin raised his head, eyes widening in surprise. 

You puffed out your cheeks indignantly, stubborn as always, but your words still wavering with overwhelming emotion. “I swore to you when we married that I would be with you forevermore. That doesn’t stop because of something as silly as dying!”

You took in a sharp breath, and a few tears broken from your eyes, pouring down your cheeks, Jumin immediately reaching out to wipe them away. 

“As long as you love me, I will stay -- I’ll find a way to you,” You took his hand as it lingered on your cheek and held it close, clinging. “I’m just as scared but-” 

“As long as there’s a chance, we’ll do everything we can to find each other again,” Jumin shifted to lean over you, pressing a kiss into your hair. 

“And I’ll never stop loving you, so I suppose we’re stuck together.” He tipped his forehead against your own, your eyes puffy and gleaming with affection.

“I don’t want anyone else.” 

Jumin embraced you and his arms wound around you like vines vying for sunlight -- so fervent and so desperate like it were all he ever wanted. Neither of you were ever quite sure when you’d let go -- and neither of you cared. 

You weren’t young and youthful as you once were -- your skin was wrought with wrinkles and your hair was greyer than dust but your love hadn’t changed, not a bit. That adoration was still just as enduring and unending as ever -- and it would be, whether in this life or the next it would prevail. 

You just had to find each other. 

And neither you or Jumin would ever stop searching. 

[asoftervirge]

Of “Love” & Murder - (5/13)

CHAPTER TITLE: The Tragedy of Roman Scarlet

RATING: M PAIRINGS: P. Sanders/V. Sanders (main/one-sided); R. Sanders/V. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/L. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/D. Sanders (former); Remy/E. Picani (side); T. Sanders/OMC (mentioned)

CHAPTER WARNINGS/KINKS: mentions of Remus, mentions of Lovecraft & his Racism, Alcohol, Singing, Musical References, Flirting, Kissing, Touching, Implied/Referenced Smut, mentions of Murder CHAPTER SUMMARY:  Roman tells Virgil his backstory on how he met Virgil.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: And here we’re introduced to Roman! :D Again, from here on, the content warnings are heavier than the previous chapters, so please take care of yourself if you decide to keep going! Have fun reading everyone! xx Virge

INSPIRATION: This post by @phantomofthesanderssides

AO3 || Buy Me A Ko-Fi!

Patton blinked in astonishment while the figure continued to smile gently at him.

Was— Was he dreaming, or was this actually happening?

A soft giggle breaks him out of his shocked state. It was a very melodic sound, and despite the surprise that was currently surging through his body, it somehow put him at ease.

“What’s the matter, darling?” the voice called to him, almost amused by Patton’s shock. “You happen to look quite pale. Paler than the man who lives here, and he happens to wear quite a lot of foundation.”

Backing away slightly, Patton tugged at his sweater nervously. “You…Who are you?”

The person— ghost? vision? hallucination?— gave him a sparkling smile. It almost made him blush. “You don’t remember who I am?” he asked. Patton was confused by this. “Perhaps you should get a closer look. Come, come. There’s no need to be shy! My face is a familiar sight for many of my adoring fans, especially if they who went to Storytime.”

If they went to the bar? Patton became a little more confused, but he did as Roman asked and stepped closer, albeit shyly. With his smile still bright, Roman moved his head about to give the confectioner a glimpse of his profile. As he did so, baby blue eyes widened in sudden realization.

The sharp angles and high cheekbones. The ruby red lips. The hourglass figure. The curly auburn hair and reddish-brown eyes. There was no mistaking who this was anymore.

“Wait,” he breathes out. “You…You’re Roman Scarlet.”

“So you’ve remembered.” Roman smiled wider. “I am, indeed.”

Patton looked at him in awe. This was the famed Scarlet Rose who Remy and Thomas gushed about so much. The one whose photographs hung on many of the lounge’s walls.

Though he looked very different from both the painting here, and the photograph that he saw at Storytime. Instead of a beautiful, glittering red dress, it was a three-piece suit. A suit that consisted of a cream blazer with a yellow shirt underneath, along with white dress pants and black boots. Red and gold patterned designs decorated his attire in various places. And a red-colored ascot was wrapped around his neck.

Nonetheless, he was still very handsome as he was beautiful.

“I-I…” the confectioner didn’t know where to begin. “How— How are you here? How am I able to see you like this?”

A sad smile now came to Roman’s face. “I’m here to warn you,” was all he said.

“Warn me?” Patton echoed confusedly. “About what?”

Roman didn’t say anything. He kept his head down, gazing at his clutched hands that sat upon his lap. The confectioner noted how his nails were colored the same as his lips. His eyes held a bevy of emotions in them: bittersweetness and a little bit of mournfulness.

“Ms. Scarlet?”

“It’s Mr., actually. Oh, don’t look guilty, dearie, it happens.” Roman reassured as he saw Patton look bad for accidentally misgendering him. “I’m just,” he shook his head. “It’s not the most pleasant thing to look back upon.”

“You don’t have to—”

“No,” the former thespian said firmly, suddenly, causing Patton to look surprised. He corrected himself, using a much more calmer tone, “No. I need to warn you of the Cruel De Vil that lives in this house.”

Patton let out a noise and nodded. “Take your time, Mr. Scarlet.”

“Call me Roman, please,” Roman tells him with a faint tug of his lips. “And…I suppose I should start at the very beginning. It’s a very good place to start.”

Patton nods again, waiting patiently as the former thespian takes a deep breath.

“As I was growing up, I always wanted had a passion for singing and dancing,” he begins. “All types of music would play from either the record player or Mama’s radio.” A faint smile traced his ruby lips. “My parents always encouraged us to follow our dreams in the same way my grandparents did them when they first came to America so many years ago; and I’ve stuck by that ever since. I remember putting on little performances for my family after dinner or whenever we had guests come over; I remember how joyous I felt whenever I received applauds or cheers from my audience. That only fueled me to aspire acting unlike my brother, Remigio, or Remus as he likes to be called, who pursued literature…albeit of the more…horrific genre. Think Edgar Allan Poe or, even worse, H.P. Lovecraft.”

Patton shivered, an ugly feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. Roman agreed with his sentiments.

“Don’t ask me why my brother would want to affiliate himself with a notorious racist,” he scoffed with a small eye roll. “Once he read The Call of Cthulhu, by the head of Nessie, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. All of his works had some form of cosmic entity, or encryptic language, or some reference to a cult that always gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

The confectioner grew a little bit sick.

“Now where were we?” Roman mumbled to himself as he lost his train of thought. “Ah, yes! My life story, not my brothers’. When I was in high school, I started joining drama clubs, classes, and performing at my local theater. My first ever performance was Teen Angel in Grease; it was a small role, but I immersed myself in it. So much so, that I started grabbing people’s attention from the get-go. I then stared in My Fair Lady, Annie Get Your Gun, and a couple small name plays.”

“However, my biggest chance came through when I got the parts for two big productions: Captain Von Trapp in The Sound of Music, and Romeo in Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet.” Patton could see Roman’s eyes light up as he talked. “It was these roles that could show people that I was serious about acting, that I wanted to be more than a celebrity in my community. And boy did I wow them! I made them laugh, I made them cry, I stunned them with my acting. Nobody could have that more so than me, and I did it.”

“That was when I was scouted by a talent agent in the audience. He told me with my voice and my talents, I would become star on the Great White Way.” Roman shook his head, almost like he still couldn’t believe it. “And I took the leap of faith, and thus, Ramon Alexandre de la Rosa became Roman Scarlet.”

“Why change your name?”

Roman shrugged. “I had to appeal to the Americans somehow. No one would remember someone with a Spanish name like mine. Besides, a lot of us celebrities changed our names in order to reach fame.”

Patton nods. It made sense. “So how did you end up performing at Storytime?”

“About a year or so after it opened. I wanted to go back to my roots of performing for small audiences. I was performing in Hamlet when I met Alejandro Reyes and Thomas Sanders. We had dinner that night and the rest, as they say, is history. I started performing there on the weekends when I didn’t have a show.”

“And that was how you met Virgil?” Patton dared to ask.

Roman grew silent. Then chuckled emptily. “Yes,” he said finally. “That, was how I met Virgil. Or rather, how Virgil met me.”

…

One of the first things Virgil saw upon entering Storytime were a bunch of excited people clambered near the stage and its runway, faces aglow by the spotlights as they yearned to see their Prince. As he moved towards the bar, he took a closer look at the steady stream of people; it was a remarkably varied group— a mix of skin colors, genders, ages, along with sexual and romantic orientations mixed together. The air was thick with excitement as they continued to fill the lounge like sheep or cattle.

He casually slid onto one of the barstools, back against the bar and elbows resting on the counter; he reclined languidly, crossing one leg over the other.

Virgil looked around and also noticed some performers in scantily-clad outfits, sequin sparkling as they swayed their hips, going up to the bar to order some liquid courage. The fingers of the musicians drummed against their instruments, creating a low, thumping bass noise as they tested them and got them ready for the show.

“Hello, there,” a kind voice spoke from behind him. “Can I interest you in a cocktail?”

Casually, almost nonchalantly, Virgil tilted his head back so he was staring at the bartender from upside down. They were looking down (up?) at him with kind eyes and a pleasant smile, in his hand was a cocktail shaker.

Virgil thought a moment then nodded. “One espresso martini, please.”

The bartender nodded as he prepared his drink. He mixed vodka, simple syrup, coffee liqueur, and freshly brewed espresso together in the shaker with ice. He strained it into a chilled cocktail glass, garnished it with espresso beans before sliding the glass to Virgil.

He took a long sip of his drink, the taste of vodka and coffee hitting his palette pleasantly. He looked at the bartender and nodded, signaling that he did a good job. The bartender smiled wider and then moved on to making cocktails for the other patrons that walked to the bar.

Sipping again, Virgil blanked out any of the noises surrounding him until he caught wind of two very familiar looking people near the far-right corner of the bar. One having dark brown hair with lavender dye, the other having burnt orange hair; the both of them were chatting about something, but what, he didn’t know.

Remy’s golden brown eyes met his for a split second. He whispered to Toby before pointing to Virgil. This caused him to force a smile and nod cordially, receiving a wink and a blow of a kiss back. If he were honest, he was glad they didn’t motion him to join their conversation, otherwise, he would’ve just hissed and made sarcastic jabs at them.

Then the lights flared dramatically; all who were still standing quickly made their way to any open seats available as a man appeared on stage.

“And now, ladies, gentlemen, and all of our beloved guests here at Storytime, please welcome the star of the hour— Ms. Roman Scarlet!”

The audience broke out into the loudest of applauses as the starlet’s name was announced, though they quickly quieted down as the lights dimmed and a singular spotlight shone against the thick velvet curtains.

“You had plenty money 1922,” the voice crooned as a long, smooth leg appeared onto the stage from the small parting left open. Then the curtains slowly drew back as the instruments picked up to her voice. “You let other women make a fool of you…”

Virgil sat up a little, looking slightly fascinated.

Red-painted lips twisted up into a sultry smile as they strutted over to the piano, leaning against it in a suggestive manner. “Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?”

She then sauntered across the stage to the cheers and hollers and whistles. Her red sequin dress had a long slit that left little room for imagination. “Get out of here and get me some money too?” Roman stops to raise their long leg up, running the skin of her foot along the jawline of a lucky patron. You could almost swear they were nuzzling it.

“So, this is the illustrious Scarlet Rose that charms people to their knees, hmm?” Virgil notes as he takes another sip of his martini glass. He says this as if he doesn’t know who Roman Scarlet is, but everyone in the city knows who they are.

“Yep.” A voice rung from beside him. He looked to see Toby and Remy eyeing him with teasing looks that really made Virgil want to hiss and growl at them. Toby smirked and took a swig of his whiskey.

“And ain’t we lucky people to watch this bombshell every weekend, sugar?” Remy lowers their sunglasses and winked at him before taking Toby by the arm and leading him to a more secluded part of the lounge.

When they left, Virgil turned back to the stage. The dress clung to her body like a second skin, showing off her toned and slim figure; muscles shifted visibly as she prowled, blowing kisses and winking at the captives surrounding her.

“You’re sitting there wondering what it’s all about. You ain’t got no money, they will put you out,” Roman’s fingers carded through her hair, tousling it in a flirtatious manner. “Why don’t you do right, like some other men do? Get out of there and get me some money too?”

Roman then strides down the runway, one hand sliding down her belly and resting on her hip. “If you had prepared 20 years ago, you wouldn’t be a-wanderin’ out from door to door,” She reached down and ran her free hand down the side of a lucky patron’s face. They kept their eyes trained on her as their mouth hung agape. “Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?” she crooned as she slid her fingers away from their chin.

They nearly fainted.

She then hops onto one of the tables, heels clicking against the wood. Some of the patrons volunteered their hands for Roman to take as she steps off the table. “Get out of here and get me some money too?”

Virgil watches as she moved away from the stage and runway, the thickest part of the crowd and over to the bar. “I fell for your jivin’ and I took you in,” The bartender slid Roman a dry martini with a couple of olives. “Now all you got to offer me’s a drink of gin,” He watches with an impressed look as she slams the martini down the back of her throat, then popping both olives in her mouth.

The bartender takes the glass and Roman smiled sweetly at them, leaning in to kiss their cheek. “Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?” She looked over to her left and wiggled her fingers at Toby and Remy when she saw them. “Get out of here and get me some money too.”

Finally, her passionate eyes finally met the stormy eyes of Virgil Nyx.

A cheshire grin appeared on her face as trailed her hand across Virgil’s back, fingertips gently scratching at the back of his neck making him grown more and more intrigued. Then she was moving in front of him, both hands moving from Virgil’s back to his shoulders. She slid her hands underneath of his trench coat, touch blazing even through his thick turtleneck.

“Why don’t you do right,” she purred, now wrapped her arms around his neck as the audience whooped in delight. As she straddled him by a leg, Virgil felt the flames of her presence burning brighter. “Like some other men—”

Roman squeaked as Virgil instantly pulled her onto his lap, now sitting on him completely. She was warm and solid there as they were pressed chest-to-chest, stomach-to-stomach. The raptured audience’s breath hitched along with Roman as they all saw this sudden and dramatic interruption of the song, but none of them minded; in fact, they were equally drawn to the mysterious man boldly challenging their starlet.

Her heart hammered frantically against her chest as she felt skinny, calloused fingers tickle her back, seeing the smirk in his eyes as she squirmed on top of him. Whether she was squirming closer or further away from him, Virgil didn’t know, but he enjoyed watching such a composed performer crumble from his touch.

Virgil leaned closer until their noses nearly touched, breath brushing each other’s lips. Despite Roman knowing they were in a room with a mass crowd of people, all clinging onto to her every note, but in that moment, with the spotlight shining on both their faces, they were the only two people in the building.

“— D-Do~…” Roman finished the last note with a small stutter as she slid off Virgil’s lap, quickly trying to bring the sensual look on her fact to no avail.

The drums, followed by the bass, and finally the piano sounded the encore of the song as the Scarlet Rose strutted (more like scampered) back to the stage. The spotlight faded entirely, and the curtains swung closed, Roman’s last not echoing through the showroom.

There was an crescendo in applause as it died, not really wanting to break the enchantment, but wanting to scream their love at their diva. A few claps, followed by more, then it became a roar or feral howl that couldn’t be tamed by the band’s random playing during intermission.

As the spell broke over the audience, many of them went over to the bar to refill their drinks while others went and chattered to other patrons; and there were those that grabbed others to drag them to rooms outside of the lounge (probably to either smoke, make out, or have a quickie.)

It was during this time that Virgil turned in his seat and casually ordered another espresso martini. The bartender (who he learned was named Thomas) smiled and complimented at how he made Roman flustered like that; apparently it was a rare thing to do. Virgil hummed and sipped his martini, silently shooing Thomas away, who complied and filled even more drinks for patrons.

Perhaps five or more minutes later, the piano started up in a jazzy, ragtime tune. The crowed swarmed back to the stage, runway, and any empty seats as Roman sauntered back onto the stage with a less flustered face.

She got into position in front of the microphone, long fingers wrapping around it suggestively. Virgil turned back to the stage as Roman started singing another tune: “All that Jazz” from Chicago. Even he, who wasn’t all that much of a purveyor of the glitz and glamor of The Great White Way, could see the appeal— though this might’ve had more to do with the actual performer than the performances themselves.

Roman held the audience in the palm of her hand for another four more songs after that. She toyed with them playfully as she danced and swayed her hips in that very provocative dress and her high, alluring voice raising goosebumps on fevered skin.

Eventually, the final song, “Nowadays/Hot Honey Rag,” also from Chicago, came to a crashing halt and Roman stood on the stage, damp with sweat and grinning triumphantly. A model shotgun was in her hands and a red top hat was on her head.

“Thank you, ladies, lords and non-binary royalty!” She blew a kiss, gathering bouquets and individual roses in her arms. “Thank you for another wonderful night! I’ll see you again next weekend!”

The curtains fell to thunderous applause, yet Virgil cancelled it out. He stood up along with the audience as they gathered their belongings; then discreetly walked backstage as they now prowled the lounge. Dark grey eyes narrowed and scanned the halls at the other performers, backstage crew, costume designers, and makeup artists scuttling about. Finally he caught sight of a glittering gold star with the cursive ’Roman Scarlet’ underneath.

Making sure no one was looking, he opened the door with a single twist. Walking inside, he closed it with the faintest of clicks. His eyes grew intrigued and wicked as he glanced over the dressed-down starlet.

Roman’s sequin dress and boa were hanging on a mannequin in the far right corner of the room, which was decorated in red wallpaper with golden details. The furniture— a couch, fainting chair, and vanity seat— matched the seating in the lounge, also red velvet cushioning. Four lamps darned the walls to give it extra lighting even with the lights from the vanity table. Speaking of the vanity, makeup ranging from palettes, lipsticks, and polishes were scattered about its surface along with playbills and pearl jewelry. A giant bouquet of red and pink roses lay on the floor by the actor’s feet, next to her red heels.

The star herself was sitting in front of the mirror, wiping any remnants of sweaty makeup off her face and reapplying it. Her curly auburn hair glowed in the lighting, and her skin looked a little shining from being on stage. Covering her body (or barely) was a long, red chiffon robe with a silk ribbon tied loosely around her waist, attached to the sleeves and bottom were red feathers that looked identical to the white ones on her boa.

In the silence between them, Roman was quietly humming a tune: “What’s New, Buenos Aires” from Evita.

Virgil smirks faintly as he shuffled across the room. And as the final bars of the song were hummed, he finally addressed her, “Roman Scarlet. I’ve heard so much about you before I came here.”

A squeak, followed by the dropping of something. (A palette? A compact mirror? Virgil didn’t know and frankly didn’t care.) Roman turned around to see the amused man standing behind her. “Y-You?!” she cried out in surprise. “H-How did you get in here?!”

“Door’s unlocked,” Virgil motioned to it. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is, I’m finally pleased to make the acquaintance of someone of your caliber.”

Roman blinked, a flattered blush dusting her cheeks. “I-I thank you, truly,” she tells him. “But I’m not that special, for I am only an actor. Nothing to shout about, only a person enjoying their passion.”

“But you’re more than that,” Virgil insists, sitting on the arm of the couch. “When you act, you take us away from the squalor of the real world.”

The surprised expression on Roman’s face quickly disappeared, eyes lighting up in an excited manner. “A man who also knows Andrew Lloyd Webber?! Are you trying to tempt my theatrical heart?”

“Depends,” Virgil shrugged, raising a cocky eyebrow. He moved closer to the actor, pulling out a dark red rose tied with a black ribbon out of his trench coat. “Is it working?”

Roman takes the rose, breath hitching as their fingertips brush each other. She observes the richly colored petals before smelling it. She’s been given all sorts of roses throughout the years, but never one like this. “I believe it might be.”

Virgil smirked. “Good.” He rested his right ankle over his knee. “I must say, you have quite the voice, Ms. Scarlet. Or is it Mr. now?”

“It’s Ms. Scarlet currently. And thank you again for your praises.” Roman says, her newly painted lips twist into a smirk of her own. Her eyes grow half-lidded, allowing Virgil to see her sparkling red eyeshadow. “So,” she coquettishly crossed her legs. “What brought you to Storytime, Mr…?”

“Nyx. Virgil Nyx.”

Roman hummed. The name sounded very enticing in her mind. “You seem to be of the dark and gloomy type who doesn’t enjoy the nightclub scene. Again, what brings you here to flirt with a someone like me, hmm?”

“Well, I just so happen to remember some old friends who come here regularly, Remy Moerani and Toby Hallows.” That wasn’t completely true, as Virgil had only met them once or twice while still working at the bookstore. He would barely call them acquaintances, let alone friends. “But I personally came to see the beautiful rose performing at this establishment.”

A bright blush came to Roman’s face. “O-Oh come now!” she squeaked, averting her eyes from Virgil. “Y-You’re just being charming!”

“I mean it.” Virgil moves so he was directly kneeling in front of the vanity seat. His fingers carded themselves in her curly auburn hair, causing her breath to hitch again. His hand moved to where it was now caressing Roman’s cheek.

His thumb lightly ran across her bottom lip, the smooth and glossy lipstick coating his calloused skin. They parted obligingly. Dark grey eyes met reddish-brown ones; ones were sharpened in concentration, while the others were widened in anticipation.

Then, in a blink of an eye, Virgil kissed her.

Roman melted into the kiss the second their lips met. Her long, delicate fingers entangled themselves around Virgil’s neck and in his hair. In turn, he could feel the other man’s trailing magically down her body, causing her to squirm and writhe deliciously in his arms.

It was like an explosion— unrestrained and all-consuming.

As quickly as it started the kiss broke, and when Roman was about to whine and complain, she felt lips marking her skin. Fang-like teeth grazing against her sharp jawline, rapidly-beating pulse point, all the way down her hourglass figure.

Biting her reddened (and newly smeared) lips, she looks down at Virgil with hazy eyes as he touches her in a way she’s never been touched before. His faded hair tickled her skin as his kisses got lower and lower; she whines at him tracing the hem of her red, lacy panties before resuming all the way down her thighs, legs, and to her feet. Her fingers gripping and loosening against the arms of her chair.

“Wh— What are you doing…?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Virgil looked up at her with seductive eyes as he kissed all the way back up her leg and thigh, nipping occasionally. Roman gasped sharply, wanting to throw her head back and let herself be immersed in this tantalizing pleasure, but she kept her gaze on him. “I’m tempting your theatrical heart,” he continued, smirking. “Or better yet,” He kissed the hem of her panties before tugging them in his teeth. “Your body.”

Roman whimpered and felt herself growing weaker. “V-Virgil~” She really wanted him, but she was worried since, well, they were in her dressing room and not her apartment in the upper part of town. “W-We’ll get caught—!”

“Well, if someone decides to listen in…just tell them we’re playing patty-cake.” He tells her sitting up, unbuttoning and unzipping on his uncontrollably-tight leather pants.

Roman gulped and nodded, sighing happily as she was pulled into another searing kiss. Lips messily attacking each other, and hands roaming and groping each other. The balls of her heels were pressing hard into the small of his back.

She could feel herself slowly growing weak, weak for Virgil Nyx, weak for what he was doing to her, weak for the fire growing ablaze in her belly. She was pressed closer and closer until Roman couldn’t think of anything but heat, skin, pressure, pleasure, Virgil.

Virgil, Virgil, Virgil.

Her hands flew to his turtleneck and trench coat, yanking and tearing them off his body. As she did this, Roman could feel him undoing the ribbon around her waist then swiftly taking off her panties.

The first moan ripped from her throat after a few agonizing minutes of kissing, touching, and prepping each other. Her nails begin clawing and scratching Virgil’s back as he rocked his hips in and out of her, panting and groaning lowly against her ear.

Any members of the show or crew that were backstage blushed and gossiped amongst themselves as they heard pleasured cries, deep grunts, and lewd praises/comments.

(When Roman came out of the dressing room and made her way to the lounge— fully dressed and with a bright blush on her cheeks— reactions to her varied. Most giggled while some dared not look at her in the eyes, others coughed awkwardly and some even wolf-whistled. Her friends were no different. Toby snorted into his whiskey glass, Remy cackled and slid her a screaming orgasm, Alejandro sighed and made his way to the stage, while Thomas shook his head and tended to other patrons.)

…

Patton blushed furiously as Roman giggled. He didn’t expect the ghost to give him such…details about his love life with Virgil, even if he glossed over some things (which he was grateful for). Then again, he suppose it came with the territory of being some so sensational like Roman, and mystifying like Virgil.

“Oh, I apologize, darling.” Roman said with an apologetic look. “I don’t mean to make you redder than Dorothy’s shoes, but it’s something I can’t help. Virgil was…well, quite the tempestuous lover,” A thrill went up his spine, a blush appearing on his own cheeks. “Just one little touch in the right place and he made me weak in my knees~” A blissful sigh.

“S-So uhm…” The confectioner said a little suddenly, growing redder. He didn’t know how to continue in the conversation in the first place! “H-How did you remain so close with Virgil?” he asked lamely. “D-Did he keep coming to Storytime or—?”

Roman snapped out of his lovestruck trance and moved over to the dresser. Patton didn’t know why, but he felt a sudden chill come through the room. He returned with a beautiful white picture frame with golden embossing on it, the stand out of it was the photograph of Roman and Virgil.

Baby blue eyes stared closely as he inspected the details. Auburn hair tickled a pale cheek as they curled into each other’s sides, arms linked with one another.

Virgil looking surprisingly handsome. His hair was actually kept out of his eyes and more violet than what it is now. A distant smile was on his face that was half-turned towards the camera. His attire was also fancier than his usual trench coat and turtleneck; he was wearing a wine colored button up, black suit pants, a lilac vest, and purple tie. He was also wearing dark eyeshadow and purple lipstick.

Roman also looked very beautiful, lovely even. He was wearing a white, lacy mermaid gown that fit snugly on his body. The detailing on it was also lined with gold, from the bodice, to the sleeves, and all the way to the skirt. His signature red makeup painted on his face. A thin, lacy veil was adorned on his hair attached to a sparkling little tiara. In his hands was a giant bouquet of red roses.

They were standing in front of Storytime, surrounding them were Thomas, Alejandro, Remy, and Toby. All of them had varying expressions on their faces, but they all had one thing in common: happiness.

Written on the bottom right corner of the photo, in bright red ink were the following words, a red heart encircled around them:

‘Virgil + Roman February 14th, 1975’

“He became my husband.” Roman says, confirming everything Thomas told him. “We were married on Valentine’s Day.” He looked at the photograph, his face softening as he recalled that day. “It was magical. The most happiest day of my life. Everything seemed so wonderful back then. Like nothing horrible was going to happen.” His expression then turned sad, almost bittersweet. “How foolish and naive I was.”

Patton look at him. “What do you mean?” he asked in confusion. “What happened?”

Silence.

Then something Patton wasn’t expecting at all.

“He murdered me.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Athena/Ash AU: Whiskey and Nightmares

Continuing the crack AU @whump-tr0pes and I are collabing on with her Honor Bound characters and my Daniel Michaelson characters... Isaac wakes up from a nightmare and heads downstairs for a drink... only to find Danny Michaelson is already up, for the same reason.

CW: Referenced past trauma and violence, some dehumanizing language (brief), and, uh... drunken makeouts and PG-13/Light R if you squint spice!

First Second Third

Isaac came out of sleep fighting for air through a what felt like a pinhole to breathe through, a panicked gasp lodged somewhere midway down his throat.

He was in an unfamiliar bed, too nice of a bed, too richly luxurious - the pillows were soft and there were so many. There were warm fuzzy blankets draped over him and the room smelled faintly like vanilla and tobacco. It was a space designed for absolute relaxation, and a faint breeze blew through from the open (but barred) window, rustling the long, semi-sheer drapes that ran to the floor.

Where the fuck was he?

For a second, as he moved to push himself up to sitting, Isaac was absolutely sure the door to the bedroom was locked, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

He felt off-balance, coming out of a nightmare where something… what had happened? He had a sense of deep-seated terror, a soft voice whispering you’re never leaving this room again in his ear. That was all he could remember.

It was already fading, the way that nightmares slip away and leave the aftermath and the fear without the context to explain it.

His heart was pounding in his chest like it’d try to break its way through, and he took a deep breath, blinking rapidly, trying to calm himself down.

Next to him, there was a soft movement in the bed, and Isaac jerked so hard to the side he rolled right off in a tangle of sheets wrapped around his ankles, hitting the ground with a muffled thump as he landed on a soft, plush rug that was nearly as thick as the bed itself.

He stared up, heart pounding, blinking as he realized the ceiling above his head was painted with a jungle scene. He was staring at a tiger, its jaws open wide over the back of some kind of lizard that clearly didn’t know it was there.

“Am I the lizard…?” Isaac asked, hearing his own voice hoarse and wavering.

He was being held here. The door was locked, he knew the door was locked. The Michaelsons were going to keep them here, Gray’s instincts had been wrong. They had been taken captive all over again but it was all of them this time, there was nothing he could do to save anyone.

Worse than that, he was locked in and there was someone else in the bed. He didn’t know how it had happened but he was locked in a bedroom with someone else, someone-

“Isaac…?” Sam’s voice slurred, bleary with sleep, and his head jerked over to stare as Sam shifted around to look back down at him from up on the bed. Their curly hair was an absolute mess, smashed flat on one side and nearly haloing their head on the other, and they rubbed at one eye, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “You okay?”

“Uh…” Isaac took a deep, shaky breath, raking one hand back through his hair, looking around. “Y-Yeah, Sam, I’m fine. Just fell out of bed, I guess. I’ll just, uh…”

He had to see if the door was locked. He had to. There was still worry beating in the back of his mind, that they’d all been locked in like guests in some weird horror movie. It wasn’t an impossible thought, either.

The Michaelsons could just keep them here. Gray had taken a huge risk, agreeing to this to get through the territory safely, and what if this family couldn’t be trusted? What if their hatred for the Stormbecks wasn’t stronger than their greed? They could trade them back to Gavin’s family or… or worse, somehow, and he wasn’t sure what could be worse than what he’d already survived or what might be in store for the if they were dragged back, but…

What if the Michaelsons took one look at you and just knew that you’re so fucking entertaining to break?

“I’ll just go splash some water on my face,” Isaac said a little gruffly, getting to his feet, feeling an ache along his back. Phantom pains he was starting to get used to feeling, hints of fire along the places where the whip had come down. “Go back to sleep, Sam, I’m okay.”

Sam squinted at him. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

They looked like they wanted to argue, but exhaustion won out and they flopped back onto the bed. Sam wrapped themself up tightly in all the blankets until one side of the bed was absolutely devoid of even a single corner of the sheets.

"I'm going to want some of those back when I come back, you know," Isaac said, fighting a smile.

"Wish you th' best of luck takin’ ‘em," Sam muttered from deep within the little Sam burrito they had made.

Isaac sighed, good-naturedly, and padded barefoot to the door. He hesitated with his hand out, swallowing, just an inch from trying to open it. As long as he didn't, he wouldn't know for sure if it was locked or not, if he'd had a nightmare or a premonition.

It’s not going to open. You and Sam are locked in this room, with bars on the windows and a door you can’t get out of, and they’ll come and tell you that you’re never leaving alive.

He curved his fingers around the gilded handle and firmly pushed it down.

It’s not going to open, Isaac.

It opened easily, swinging in on silent hinges to show him the hallway. For a half-second he jumped at the sight of a man staring right at him… before he realized it was his own reflection. There was a large mirror with a gold frame hung on the wall opposite the door. He hadn't really noticed it earlier, but he was very aware of it now.

Isaac closed the door behind him as quietly as he could, and stood for just a second, listening. Someone was snoring loud enough to hear - he was pretty sure that was Gray - and he was also pretty sure he heard low voices coming from Ryan Michaelson's room, low soft male laughter followed up by a voice he knew.

Two voices he knew.

Well, that didn’t take long.

“I need a drink,” Isaac murmured, dragging a hand down his face. He could see the starry sky through the window next to the stairwell, moonlight shining in well enough to nearly light the dark hallway. He rolled his eyes upward, slowly looking at the ceiling above him, wondering if Gavin was asleep yet, or still whining to the wall about how small his queen-sized bed was.

How was it Ryan and Daniel Michaelson had been so polite and nice and Gavin Stormbeck was such a piece of whiny, sniveling shit?

Maybe Ryan and Danny’s parents don’t teach their children to cut people up for fun. Or to be better at pretending they don't, anyway.

He was thinking too much.

Isaac set his jaw, carefully blanked his mind, and made his way down the winding staircase, listening to the sounds of the house settling around him. This house was older than any place he’d seen still standing, evidence of the time before the syndicates - if you ignored the more newly-added bars on the windows and the fact that he was fairly certain the front door was bulletproof.

There was greenery everywhere, now that he thought about it. Plants on shelves and in corners, ivy growing up the outside of the house, a heavily wooded area out back that they had been warned to not go in without Nate or Ryan giving them explicit permission.

“... in case it gets shoot-y,” Isaac said to himself as he stepped onto the first floor, lips twisting with wry humour, stretching his arms up over his head.

"Is-... Is s-someone there?"

The voice was slightly wavering, a little worried. Isaac turned, still mid-stretch, to see Danny Michaelson, a nearly looming presence in the open doorway to the kitchen, peering out at him.  

"It's just me," Isaac said, opening his palms wide where they were held above his head, in a don't shoot gesture. "Uh. Isaac. I don't know why I thought you'd know who 'me' is in the dark…"

"No, I… I recognized your… hi." Danny hesitated, eyes dropping, and Isaac realized his shirt had ridden up to show a wide band of his stomach, criss-crossed with scarring from Gavin’s knife. He quickly dropped his arms, shirt falling back down to cover them up. "What, um… are you doing up?"

"Could, ah, ask you the same."

"Oh. Um." Danny ducked his head, smiling with an odd, shame-faced expression. His scars were nearly invisible in the blueish white moonlight coming through the windows, warm light from the kitchen making him nearly a silhouette. "Had a nightmare, thought drinking would, um, would help. You?"

"Yeah… same reason, same thought."

Danny blinked at him, then he laughed - it was a low, soft laugh, and Isaac had the distinct feeling that if he so much as acknowledged it, Danny would not laugh again. “Well, sit on the couch, then. I’ll get you… I’ll get you a glass.”

Isaac nodded and watched him duck back into the kitchen before he moved quietly over to the ‘formal family room’ or whatever Ryan had called it, looking around at the multiple couches that took up the seemingly cavernous space before he settled on a large sectional nearly wide enough to be a bed in and of itself, sitting down only to nearly sink into the cushions, letting out a soft breath.

Seeing Danny made his nightmare, and his certainty when he’d first woken up that they were locked in and never getting out, seem ridiculous, nearly insanely absurd. Gray had said Danny lived through something similar to Vera’s experience with Gavin’s father, that his captivity had lasted years. He had a feeling the shy, nervous redhead would never have been here if anything like that had been planned.

Granted, he could see Ryan Michaelson being just fine with it if it meant Sam would stick around… Isaac caught himself smiling again, closing his eyes and rubbing at his temples with his fingers.

Danny came back out with a bottle in one hand and two whiskey glasses braced between his arm and his ribs.

“Why not hold them with your hand?” Isaac asked, blinking, as Danny came around the side of the couch and settled close - but not too close - to him.

“I don’t have the best grip with my, um, my hands any longer,” Danny said with a shrug, not quite looking at him. He set the glasses down on the coffee table before pouring them each a good three fingers of brown liquor with practiced expertise.

“You’re good at that,” Isaac said softly. “I always have to keep evening out the pour for what feels like minutes to get everyone the same amount.”

Danny looked up at him, considering, and then said softly, “I had to be good at it, for them.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Isaac felt his face burn, embarrassed that he’d manage to so thoroughly tapdance right into uncomfortable territory, but Danny just smiled at him and pushed his glass closer, quickly pulling his hand back before Isaac could reach out.

“No problem. You wouldn’t know.” Danny picked his own glass up, taking a long drink, and Isaac followed suit.

It was whiskey, hints of vanilla - what was it with the Michaelsons and vanilla? - and it went down so smoothly he could nearly drink it like water. He was drinking it like water, he realized only after a good third of it was already gone, and he’d barely even taken a breath in between drinks.

“You did it, too,” Danny said, his voice low enough that Isaac nearly missed it over the welcome warmth beginning to spread through his shoulders, relaxing muscles that felt like they never stopped being tense. When Isaac blinked at him, he pointed at the scar that ran over Isaac’s left forearm. “You were… held.”

“Um. Yeah.” Isaac found himself gulping even more, and made himself put the glass down on the table, nervously rubbing at the skin between thumb and forefinger with his other hand. “I was. Not for, uh, not for nearly as long as you, not by a longshot.”

“Pain is relative,” Danny said quickly, in the practiced cadence of someone who had tried to memorize the phrase. “It doesn’t, um, matter how long. What matters is that it happened. I, um, I thought so when I, I saw you…” His voice trailed off and he took another drink, and Isaac realized Danny was drinking pretty fast, too.

“Shit. So you can tell just from looking at me,” Isaac muttered, and Danny laughed again, surprising enough in the moment to make Isaac look back up at him. The warm blue eyes were sparkling with real humor, in a way he hadn’t seen before.

But then, Danny was drinking before Isaac ever came downstairs.

“No. I mean, um, yes. I can. And Nate can. When you’ve, um, been there… you can see it in each other, I think.” He gave Isaac a slightly nervous smile, and picked up the glass to hand it to him again. Isaac took it with a soft thanks and took another drink, wondering if Danny was trying to get him drunk, or if he was just trying to be nice.

Get you drunk and you wake up and then you really are locked in, and it was all part of some sadistic fucking game, just like Gavin-

“I know because I, um, I have them, too,” Danny said, and tapped with one finger the scars on the back of the hand that held his own glass. “Scars. This was, um, knives. Your stomach was knives?”

“How do you-”

“When you were stretching,” Danny said, shyly. “Not that I was looking. I just… saw them.”

“Oh.” Isaac felt his face redden again, and he shrugged, trying to look casual and uncaring about it, his eyes drifting over to the windows that ran along the front of the house. Barred, in a subtle way he hadn’t picked up on at first. This was a sweet, lovely little country house - and it was also a fortress. Even as he looked, he saw the shadow of one of the Michaelsons’ armed men move past, walking the grounds, armed to the teeth. “Yeah. That was knives.”

When he was Gavin’s favorite fucking entertainment. And now he had to cart him around and save his life, because he was supposed to be better than Gavin, even if he knew, deep down, that he wasn’t.

The two fell into not-quite-awkward silence, punctuated only by the sound of the bottle when Danny picked it back up and refilled both their glasses once they were empty. Isaac was watching more closely this time, and he could see a flicker of emptiness in Danny’s face when he did it, as though he were sliding somewhere back into himself, just for a fraction of a second, as he did something he had done in captivity.

It reminded Isaac uneasily of Vera - and made him wonder if it would remind any of the rest of the team of him.

“What was your nightmare?” Danny asked, looking up at him. It was weird, to sit next to such a tall man hunched over to make himself so small, and see him look up at you, with big eyes.

“What?” Isaac was feeling the whiskey, now - he could feel the flush of it in his face, warm under his skin, relaxed back into the couch now instead of sitting up straight and tense.

“Why you woke up. You said you had, um, nightmares, and wanted to drink. What was your nightmare?” Danny grinned at him, a flash of the kind of smile he’d given his brother and the other one - Nate - earlier. Less shy, now that he also had plenty of whiskey in him.

He was… kind of cute, Isaac thought, and carefully looked away before that thought got any further away from him or - in the most horrifying possibility - found its way out of his mouth. “Um. I just… I don’t really remember. I know I was dreaming that we were locked in, that you had, uh, decided to-”

“Keep you?” Danny tilted his head, a little hair falling over one eye. Isaac was just drunk enough to lean forward and push it back out of the way - but not drunk enough to miss the way Danny went very, very still, almost instantly, at the touch.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” Isaac said, jerking his hand back like maybe he’d burned him. “Shit. Gray said you don’t like touch, that was part of our, uh, shit. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s not as bad when I’m drunk? It’s okay. You’re okay. You’ve, um, you’ve been there, too…” Danny trailed off. “That makes it easier. When someone has, um, has… been there, too.”

“Not like that,” Isaac said quickly. “I mean. Shit. I’m too drunk not to fuck this whole conversation up, Daniel.”

“Danny. My… not a lot of, um, people call me Daniel. I like Danny better. That’s okay, I’m drunk enough that this whole… conversation… is going pretty well from, um, my perspective.” Danny grinned at him again, and he found himself smiling back. “So you thought we were, um, going to keep you here?”

“Yeah. I mean. It’s just a bad dream, but we’ve been running from… so many fucking people. I think my brain just… doesn’t want to admit there’s anyone out there who doesn't have an ulterior motive.”

“Oh, we do.” Isaac felt a vague sense of alarm before Danny only shook his head and laughed again, sitting more upright. “Sorry. I just mean, we’re not doing this because we’re good people, my mother just wants to piss off the Stormbecks. They stole some, um, some stuff from her a long time ago, and she figures, why not? But we wouldn’t, uh, hold you.” Danny glanced away, over at the window outside. Looking at the driveway lined with trees gently swaying in the nighttime breeze. “We don’t… do that.”

“Well… good. I’m glad my nightmare was as ridiculous as it sounded. What was yours?”

“My nightmare?” Danny looked back at him, hesitating, and then just shrugged. “Same as always. That coming home was, um, a dream. They’re not dead, and I’m still… there. What happens in the dream is, um, different, but… that’s always what it’s about. This time I was being whipped again. They liked whipping me.”

Isaac took another drink, nodding as he let the flavor rest on his tongue, then swallowed. “I’ve been whipped, too. Does your back still hurt when you wake up?”

“Every fucking day,” Danny said dryly, and the both of them laughed together. “I mean every day. My hands, too, but my back’s the, um, the worst.” He shrugged, finishing his second drink and setting the glass a little too firmly down on the table, both of them wincing at the loud thunk. “Whoops. I’m glad you guys asked us for help.”

“You… are?” Isaac blinked, not entirely sure he hadn’t just drunk enough to start hearing things. “Why?”

Danny smiled but looked away at the same second, and Isaac knew that expression, and felt vaguely alarmed and sort of enthralled by it all at once. “It’s just… nice to meet other people who, um, who know. I mean. Other than Nate. But we talked about it, and he’s okay with it, he said…”

“You talked to Nate? About what?” Isaac’s voice was lower than he meant it to be, a little shaky. His face had never stopped being red, and it had to be the whiskey.

Danny looked at him, briefly, and then away. “You.”

“You talked to him… about… me?” Isaac’s voice caught, and he drank the rest of his whiskey way too fast, coughing as it went down the wrong way, leaning forward wondering how ridiculous it was to make it through everything he’d survived and then choke to death on goddamn whiskey. “Shit. Sorry, I just-”

He coughed again, harder this time, bent nearly in half with the effort.

“Are you, um, okay?” Danny patted him on the back, firmly, and with his eyes closed - still coughing - Isaac wondered if Danny had done that for anyone but Nate since he’d come back here from whatever it was he’d lived through. “Hey, I can, let me go get some water-”

“N-No, I’m fine.” Isaac cleared his throat, putting one hand up, taking a few deep breaths. “I’m fine, thanks, I’m okay. I’m-” He coughed once more, and finally sat back, only to find Danny leaning in closer than he had been before.

Either he was really drunk, or it just didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. He looked up to meet Danny’s eyes, only a few inches away from his. “I’m okay,” He said, again, more softly. Nearly a whisper.

“I think you’re safe,” Danny said, quietly, without pulling back. “So I want to try something. Are you safe?”

“I don’t-... I don’t know what that means.”

Danny shook his head, and that bit of hair fell over his eyes again. “I mean, I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”

“Hurt you… One of us has about three dozen armed guards outside, Danny, and it’s not me.” He reached up and pushed the bit of hair back out of the way again, tucking it behind Danny’s ear. Danny went still - but this time, Isaac got that he wasn’t going still because he wanted it to stop. “Did you seriously talk to your boyfriend about-”

“Yes.” 

Danny cut him off with lips pressed to his, a kiss that surprised him with intensity, that he was answering with the same warmth before he even understood what had happened.

Danny’s rough, scarred hands were on either side of his face. His hands went up over Danny’s, not to pull them back, just laying over the pattern of scars, feeling the rough bumps under his palms. 

He could taste the whiskey they’d both been drinking, when he opened his mouth, when Danny pressed the kiss deeper. 

“Are you sure this isn’t going to, to fuck something up-”

“Me, maybe,” Danny whispered. “Or you. But not us, not me and Nate. Please, you can say no, but-”

“I don��t want to say no,” Isaac said, and groaned when Danny kissed the side of his neck, sliding his hands up into his hair, tangling his fingers around it. “I just-... haven’t, in a long time-”

“That’s okay, we don’t have to do-... I don’t think I, um, I can, anyway, we can just do this.”

“Oh, okay, just-... this is good, I think, this is good, to start.”

They were whispering, heads together, and Isaac wasn’t sure exactly how it happened but somehow a few minutes later he ended up on his back on the couch with Danny laying on top of him, their hands up under each other’s shirts, the other man’s tongue in his mouth, feeling his body light up in ways it hadn’t done in way too long.

The world was a sort of delightful drunken spin centered around the simple solid weight of Daniel Michaelson’s hips on his, the warmth of his ribs under Isaac’s hands, the odd rough coolness of Danny’s fingers sliding up his back as he arched into him, pressing over scars.

His own hands moved up Danny’s back, under the fabric of his heavy knit sleeping shirt, feeling along the scars as they kissed, the house shifting, creaking around them in the middle-of-the-night stillness. “Got whipped right there, too,” Isaac murmured into Danny’s jaw, licking at the scar there, the little dip of evidence of something darker than Isaac was prepared to name.

“We both did,” Danny whispered, voice and breath heavy, moving his hands to feel over the knife-marks on Isaac’s stomach, curving over his hips through the fabric of his pants. He rocked their hips together, to Isaac’s low moan. Then Danny smiled and pushed himself back and away, sitting slowly up with his weight still on Isaac’s hips. “Want to see?”

“Not, uh, exactly, b-... but your shirt off… yeah.”

“I asked as a, uh, to see if you wanted… to see my shirt off… I’m bad at this. Hold on.” Danny smiled shyly, pulling his shirt off over his head, and Isaac pushed himself up on his elbows to look up at him. Jesus, it had been a while - they’d been so busy running and fighting and living on pure adrenaline, he hadn’t even thought about doing anything like this…

Are you about to sleep with a syndicate son? After what the syndicates have done to your entire fucking life? Seriously?

Danny didn’t feel like a syndicate heir, though. Talking to him felt more like talking to one of them, one of the normal people the syndicates had crushed and brought to heel when they took over. Talking to Ryan felt like talking to a syndicate member, but… not Danny.

Danny shifted back and off of him, moving to turn around while still kneeling on the couch, and in the dim light of the single lamp in the living room and the moonlight coming through the windows, Isaac stared at a back absolutely coated in scars exactly like his own. He moved around and up onto his knees, pulling his own shirt off in silence.

“I, I know they’re bad,” Danny whispered, shoulders hunching forward. “I’m sorry, I can put my shirt back on-”

“Don’t.” He was drunk, and this probably wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done, but Isaac leaned forward and kissed Danny’s shoulder blade, hearing his breath hitch and smiling a little as he grazed his mouth over the scars, rough and silk-smooth at the same time. “I like, I like how you… look, I think.”

Danny laughed, a low soft sound, and turned around on the couch, grabbing at him again, and this time Isaac didn’t hesitate, the two of them kneeling together on the couch, wrapped in each other, and Isaac realized the vanilla-and-tobacco smell was Danny’s cologne.

“Christ, you’re good at kissing,” Isaac said, sucking a spot red on Danny’s neck until he was shivering and moving his hips again, almost helplessly, breathing in little gasps that Isaac wanted to hear more of, all night or potentially for-fucking-ever. 

“Y-you, um, you, too,” Danny murmured, sliding a hand over Isaac’s stomach, over the scars, and then slipping it underneath the waistband of his pants, fingers skimming lower and lower until Isaac dropped his forehead onto Danny’s shoulder and groaned, bucking into his hand.

“Jesus. Fuck. Yes, right there, Danny... ah, I want that-”

“Oh my god,” Isaac heard an all-too-familiar voice say. “What the f-”

THUNK.

“Ow! Jesus Christ that hurt!”

Danny and Isaac both jumped apart, turning to look over the back of the couch to where Gavin was sitting on his ass on the ground, rubbing at one side of his face, next to a doorframe.

“Gavin, what the fuck?” Isaac grabbed at his shirt, moving to pull it rapidly back on over his head, and saw Danny doing the same. He tried to ignore his disappointment - which was easy, since he was rapidly papering it over with anger. “Did you just walk into the fucking doorway?”

“I was surprised! I came down to get a glass of water, I didn’t expect to find you and this asshole fucking playing ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ at 2 in the morning!” Gavin pushed himself to his feet, glaring at Danny with real anger and something else, something even sharper, in his eyes.

“It’s, um, it’s my house,” Danny said, trying for firm, but his voice shook just a little, and Isaac stood, walking around the couch to stand between them without even thinking about it.

“Sure, it’s your house, but he’s-” Gavin cut off.

“If you were about to say what I think you were about to say,” Isaac said, voice low and dangerous, “Then you need to get your ass upstairs right. the fuck. now.”

“How would you know what I was going to say,” Gavin muttered, a pouting whine to his voice that stabbed into Isaac’s brain like a hundred icepicks. “I mean, with him? What, you going to thank him for letting us stay here flat on your back? I kind of get the other one, but this one? All he’s done is cook and clean like a fucking maid and he just follows the other guy around like a-... like a, a fucking…”

“Like a what, Gavin?” Isaac asked, his voice low and soft.

Danny had gone silent, but in the moment, Isaac didn’t notice.

“Like a fucking puppy or something!” Gavin half-shouted. “That’s what I was trying to say! He’s like a puppy!”

There was a strangled sound, and Isaac turned to see a look in Danny’s eyes that he’d seen before… in Vera. Wide, and distant, and terrified.

I am going to fucking murder Gavin Stormbeck one day, and right now I could happily bludgeon him to death with anything in this room.

“Gavin, go upstairs right now,” Isaac said quickly. “Right. Now. Get back in your room and don’t come out until everyone else is up.”

“What? Why?” Gavin blinked, looking at Danny directly for the first time. He swallowed hard, face going pale. “Oh, shit. I fucked him up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you dumbass. You did,” Isaac said, and it took real effort to keep his tone even. All the warmth from the whiskey had drained out of him, leaving him feeling coldly sober and furious - at the look on Daniel Michaelson’s face, at the interruption and the way his body was still lit at every nerve ending, at just fucking everything. “Get upstairs. Now. I’ll handle this, and maybe we don’t get our asses thrown to the fucking bounty hunters chasing us.”

Gavin muttered something that could have been the world’s lamest attempt at an apology and all but fled back up the stairs.

Isaac turned back to look at Daniel Michaelson and took a deep breath. “Okay, what do I do now?”

Danny looked up at him, eyes wide and frightened of something only he could see. “I’m sorry,” He said, voice shaking. “I’ll… I’ll be good, for y-you.”

Isaac felt dread like cold water run down his spine. “Hey, it’s okay,” He said, putting his hands up, palms out, then dropping them when Danny flinched back and put his own hands over his head protectively.

“I’ll be good,” Danny said, closing his eyes, steeling himself as if waiting for a blow. “I’ll, I’ll try h-harder, I’ll be good, I want to be good for y-you, Abraham…”

Isaac ran through everything he could think of to do, and finally he just stood there, feeling helpless. The only thing he could think of… “Shit. Okay. Stay here, uh, Danny. Just stay here, I’ll go get Nate, okay?”

He did not look forward to explaining the last few minutes of his life to Danny Michaelson’s boyfriend.

If they weren’t going to fuck us over before, there’s a distinct possibility they’ll do so now.

He went for the rooms at the back of the first floor, and felt more than a little embarrassed that at least part of him was upset that he probably wasn’t going to get to do any of that with Danny Michaelson again.

[mikenewtonhateblog]

My oc’s aka too long of a gd post

The “BL” Crew (does not stand for boys love I’m just a moron who made that abbreviation before knowing what it stands for). My main crew and main series, a lot is a big WIP right now as I’m slowly redoing the first book and all the lore. Why? I love torture. Book is fantasy type but I won’t specify what.

Lacie, the protagonist. God tier idiot, bisexual bipolar depressed MESS, insomniac, former theater kid, doesn’t know what she wants out of life but currently it is not This(plot of book). Hot headed, impulsive, crude, rude, Mommy IssuesTM, would rather be taking a nap right now, rules are made to be broken, absolutely fucking FERAL, more bags under her eyes than the airport lost and found. 5’5, 130lbs, Aries, age 18, white as shit like literally the whitest human you have ever seen, strawberry blonde hair in a 2011 Hayley Willaims haircut with long bangs, the darkest brown eyes you’ve ever seen that stare directly into your soul. Lanky, no curves, body of a 12 year old boy but works out so she can and will kick your ass and thats a threat. Not human?

Josh. Soft boy, smart, Lacie’s cousin and only friend for like the first 18 years of her life, autistic anxious mess who’s special interest is anchient egyptian history, is in honors classes, despises math, passes out when his girlfriend looks too cute, just needs a hug. Can eat a whole carton of easy mac if left alone, whole wardobe is the same outfit just different colors/hoodies, sensory issues, seriously can someone give this guy a hug. 5’9, 150lbs, Pisces, age 18, mixed (half whatever flavor of white Lacie’s family is [they don’t even know its just some scandanavian shit and irish], and half mexican on his mom’s side), medium olive skin with freckles and moles, dark chocolate brown hair that’s a bit of a 2009 Beiber cut, warm brown eyes, not beefy, a lil thicc and self concious about it but squishy boys are GOOD. Gets bit by a werewolf so now he is one his mood on it is “thats a lot to unpack but let’s just throw the whole suitcase away”.

Zander. There is not one braincell in this man, himbo KING, pansexual dumbass with undiagnosed ADHD, no impulse control, head empty and full at the same time, PTSD, his fashion sense should be an actual crime, gets in fights to feel something, basic requirements for him to be attracted to you: kick his ass. Drinks his respect women juice, sees a folding table and must immediately launch himself on it, chaotic, cannot drive a car and will not, food aggression and eats enough for 3 people but never gains weight which is ILLEGAL, him and Lacie may be a couple.....but in this house we stan slow burn, he talks in caps and every sentence either ends with a question mark or exclaimation point, likes romcoms. 6’2, 190lbs, Sagittarius, age 19, austrailian roots and has the accent but is from [REDACTED FOR STORY REASONS], white, dorito shaped with long legs, blueish black hair that’s long and messy, dark navy eyes that match his hair, bigass neck scar from [REDACTED]. Not human

Peter. Gay dad friend who is TIRED of having to be in charge of a bunch of teenagers, only one with full functioning braincells, lowkey a genius who loves engineering, mixes magical technology with human technology because he likes to play god, is he ever sober? No one knows, will kill for a bottle of single malt, his fashion sense? Tastefully expensive suits perfectly tailored. Likes building his own weapons that no one else knows how to even use, generally non-threatening but can get scary if needed. 6’4, 140lbs string bean man, Scorpio, age 179 but looks early 30s, I know I said Lacie is the whitest human but he’s even paler like a literal sheet of paper with scandanavian roots/ancestors were vikings or some shit, blonde hair styled like 2013 Brendon Urie lmfao, light crystal blue eyes. He’s a vampire and was born one.

Danielle. Tiny, sweet, queen of girls supporting girls, comments on all her friends instagram posts with 20 emojis, LOVES fashion and has a wardrobe that would make anyone jealous, oozes feminine energy, only child and parents are in love still, gets exactly 8 hours of sleep each night and wakes up looking like a disney princess. Just because she is small and cute doesn’t mean you should underestimate her she WILL fuck your shit up. Quiet when angey which is terrifying. Josh is her bf and she loves him so much but also loves teashing the shit out of him. Legally cannot cuss, polite, used her high heels as a weapon once, speaks like 5 languages because studying them is her hobby, gardens, hugs everyone. 5’0, 110, Taurus, age 18, mixed (half french-american, half Korean-american), glowy skin always, PETITE frame aka the friend everyone can pick up when they hug, long past her waist curly brown hair, bright green eyes. She’s not fully human as she has fae blood in her and this gives her the ability to talk to and control plants. Flower crowns for everyone

Becca. Theater kid who would die to sing in Wicked and has the vocal range to do so, cannot wait to graduate and go to her dream college which she got into and a scholarship, closeted lesbian bc her whole giant family is extremely catholic and she feels like not dealing with it, “no boys allowed in bedroom” rule is her favorite joke, chill, middle child of 5 siblings and just wants some peace and quiet for ONCE. Her fashion sense is “I’m dropping subtle hints I’m gay but only to other gays”, has a black belt and took self defense classes. 5’6, 145lbs, Virgo, age 18, Latina (cuban and mexican mix), darker brown skin with light freckles over her nose, athletic build, eyebrows on POINT, bright caramel eyes, short light brown hair cut in a bob, has a tiny nose stud, always wears a blue friendship bracelet her gf made her. Human

Anika. Calling her a bitch/slut is a compliment, bisexual, a bit of a mean girl but she grows out of it give her time!!! Is always Too Much, the horny friend, favorite color is red so thats almost all of her outfits, loves to show off her body as much as she can because she’s hot and knows it and thrives in her own confidence. Her mom is literally like Regina George’s mom from Mean Girls but married a rich man 20 years older than her, Anika doesn’t know her bio dad but thats fine neither does her mom and her step dad is nice and does his best to be a dad. Becca’s gf, always hanging out at her home so Becca can get some quiet because Anika’s an only child and has a pool. 5’9, 135lbs, Gemini, age 18, white, long layered dark reddish brown hair, teal-blue eyes, swimmers body type (I normally do not mention bust size but she would want the internet to know she was blessed with big bahoogles so there you go), can sprint in heels. Half mermaid (boy was that a surprise considering her mom doesn’t know who her father is LOL)

Rex. Nb uses they/them he/him pronouns but honestly will respond to any, goth lite, only attracted to men and ace, can read minds so knows all your secrets, mischevious little shit, great friends with Zander and enjoys his dumbass thoughts and that he’s basically a human version of Jackass, wears too many rings, goth boots for kicking and fashion babey, always has the freshest memes and will not hesitate to roast in the group chat, hangs with the girls most of the time. Chaos god who loves making art, be gay do crime, skateboard and spraypaint. 5’8”, 165lbs, Leo, age 18, Native American, masculine frame, dark brown skin, blue eyes, firetruck red shoulder length hair that’s usually in a ponytail, knock-off gucci sunglasses just for judging their friends. Has magic in their blood so not entirely human and can cast spells and shit (don’t roast me its a wip and I’m doing my research)

Sam. Boho goddess, aromantic, makeup and nails are always instagram worthy, quiet and stoic type but losens up around close friends, Rex is her best friend, has some trauma and doesn’t want to talk about it, emotionally numbed out a bit and wants to purely vibe. Has seen some of the worst parts of humanity and wishes she hadn’t, finds no point in being bitter or resentful though because that won’t change anything, loves cats and once she moves out shes adopting one or three. Has wine aunt energy. 5’4, 200lbs PLUS SIZE QUEEN, Scorpio, age 18, Filipino (her parents are immigrants fun fact!), really olive skin sometimes has a grey/green tinge to it, dark brown almost black shoulder length hair, gold-hazel eyes. Sam’s the victim of a family curse that requires her to consume human hearts to survive, she can transform into a pretty scary looking being and uses this curse to hunt down pedoph*les, r*pists, murderers, and abusers. The less often she feeds the less human she looks, hence the constant grey/green tinge to her skin. 

Andy. Baby of the group, must be protected at all costs, 100% didn’t sign up to be in a friendgroup of 90% monsters but highkey loves it, trans, bi, anxiety MAXED, just wants to draw comics and cosplay spiderman, has to babysit his two younger sisters a lot because his parents are....not great, and as a result now knows all the lines to Tangled and The Little Mermaid. Big nerd energy, has to draw on everything including homework, gets inspiration for comics from his friends, awkward and socially anxious, drinks way too much tea and will accidentally steal your pens. Fears include: crowds, thunder, tall angry men, tiny spaces. Just trying his best. 5’2, 100lbs BEANPOLE BOY, Leo, age 16, white (irish and scottish roots), freckles absolutely EVERYWHERE, orangey red hair thats in desperate need of a haircut, chocolate brown eyes, braces, chronic nail biter. Human and kinda wishes he wasn’t.

That’s it for now if you read all this bless u thank u here is my whole heart. Please no discourse, literally these are fictional people I’ll never publish the books they go to.

[slashnatic]

Hello love, I'd like to request a matchup if you don’t mind! I’m a 5'6" African American female with a curvy, athletic build. I'm panromantic and demisexual, with curly black hair, a deep honey complexion, and stormy grey eyes. I just got my Bachelor of Science in psychology and sociology and am about to transition into law school. People often describe me as charismatic, intelligent, honorable, sarcastic, adventurous, and selfless to a fault. I'm very artistic and musical, a nature enthusiast, animal lover, and a bit of an adrenaline junkie. I also have extensive training in gymnastics, dance, cheerleading, and krav maga (the most dangerous form of martial arts).

Despite being regarded as "logical" and analytical, I practice brujería/witchcraft and have blood ties to Voodoo, hoodoo, and Shamanism. I identify as an eclectic witch & empath, and I'm not afraid to use that to my advantage (but never to harm others). I can also be quite cynical of human nature at times and have a rather morbid sense of humor. Although I am selfless and kind, I may become vicious and calculating whenever my boundaries are crossed or harm comes to my loved ones.

this was submitted by @aut0matic-supers0nic and wow, you sound like such an interesting person :) ...that krav maga-thingy really impressed me, i wanted to learn krav maga too, but i already play two instruments and that takes up most of my time...but this is so amazing! :)

I‘d match you with:

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent has two sides to himself: The one he shows to strangers, which is rather cold and distant and brutal, both in a physical and emotional sense, and the one he shows to the people he loves, which is warm and caring, quiet but somewhat open. This is why he understands you and the person you are. He relates to you in a way, with you being a logical, yet caring and charming person.

Vincent doesn‘t like opening up to people and it takes a lot of time for him to do so, but he still craves someone to confide in. An understanding partner with a certain charisma helps him to not only open up, but also feeling confident while doing so. He needs to be able to entirely trust a partner, both because of traumatic events in his life and his lifestyle on its own. He learns to trust you pretty quickly.

Besides him being a sucker for kindness, he also doesn‘t like people to be too soft. He understands it, but has trouble with people who are one hundred percent soft; he enjoys the company of versatile people. Your charisma and selflessness are what helps him to be more himself, the way you approach things keeps him grounded and your sense of humor is a very much welcomed addition, something unique, something which makes you even more interesting to him than you already are.

Vincent is a calm and patient man too and he doesn‘t really hold grudges. He will never be angry at you for being cynical, but rather try to understand you and take care of you, if he thinks it‘s fitting in that moment.

He loves your adventurous side for the same reasons he loves your sense of humor, but on top of that it‘s practical. You never know what you come across in Ambrose, you never know what happens when the next visitors come. Knowing you enjoy adventures doesn’t make anything better in his eyes, killing isn‘t an adventure, but it still calms him down a little and makes him worry a little less. It helps him in others ways too; he goes outside more. He doesn‘t want to disappoint you and will leave the basement more often, hoping he can spend time with you in a way you will enjoy. Being alone all the time isn‘t healthy and while he can‘t necessarily socialize in Ambrose, leaving the basement is still a good thing. Since you love nature the two of you can go on a simple walk too, which puts him under less pressure. As mentioned before, he doesn‘t want to disappoint you and knowing you will enjoy a day out in the woods too makes him feel secure.

Being an athletic person is helpful when you are a part of the Sinclair family. You never know what kind of person a visitor is and being able to protect yourself is essential and also the only reason you‘re still alive, let‘s be real.

No matter if Vincent is single or in a relationship, he‘s a workaholic. He still works at most times and you need something to spend your time with as well. Your love for different kinds of art is something you bond over and he enjoys your company while he works, knowing you understand how important this is to him. He will ask for your opinion on most of his work and he will try to learn from you too. If you don‘t want to be around waxed-covered corpses all the time, why don‘t you spend time with the dog instead? Vincent loves animals just like you and he‘s protective of his little buddy, but he trusts you completely and likes it when you take care of the pet.

Vincent is a very curious and smart man and he enjoys learning about new things. He isn‘t entirely unfamiliar with witchcraft, he‘s read a little bit about it here and there, but other than that it exists, there are people who actually practice it and they are not burning children in the middle of the woods (haha), he doesn‘t know much. He loves to learn about it and is very eager to help you if he can or maybe practice it himself one day.

Vincent would definitely be my number one match for you, but another possible match would be:

Michael Myers

Michael undoubtedly is an extremely smart person and he doesn‘t even bother to put up with anyone who he believes is stupid. He would (almost, it’s still Michael) respect you for the things you‘ve already accomplished in life. You have reached goals in your life and figured yourself out, which gives him a reason to tolerate you.

Figuring out that you approach things with a logical perspective makes him accept the fact that he tolerates you. Although he is way more extreme than you are, it‘s something that makes him relate to you. He doesn‘t care much, but he cares enough to let this “impress“ him.

He would never admit it, in fact he doesn‘t even know it, but a tiny part of him enjoys your caring side as well. It‘s something he‘s never experienced, or at least something he hasn’t experienced in a while and while he is still cautious he will accept the offered kindness.

Being able to protect yourself is a must in a relationship with Michael. He will be both annoyed and excited about it and he will be more than happy to figure out how long you can stand against him (Spoiler alert: not very long and he will d e s t r o y you, but it will be worth it, trust me).

Michael won‘t let you teach him about it, but he will try to manipulate you -without ever directly asking you- into telling him more about witchcraft. He‘s a curious man and enjoys learning about possibly helpful things.

[catsandstrawberries]

~Real Family: 13

Pairings: BTS x teen female reader, platonic love

Warnings: Language, neglect, past child abuse, toxic relationships, cliche fluff

A/N: Only ONE more chapter left before the series is done!!!

Summary: It’s not blood that makes a family. It’s love

Masterlist 

The boys had easily gone back to their normal selves, praising me for standing up to Aki and his group, and handling it without violence. 

“Did you see the look on his face?” Tae laughed arms wrapped around Sugas shoulders at his comment. 

“(Y/N) you were such a savage.” Jungkook gave me a squeeze from behind wrapping his arms around my waist and a proud smile spread to my face. Never would I have thought Jungkook calling me a savage could be so satisfying. Yet I couldn’t help but wonder why Aki asked those questions. I wondered how much truth was behind it. Why had they adopted me? Why did they want someone’s else’s rejection? I’m not related to them, not their blood, why did they want another problem in their busy lives? 

I was knocked out of my thoughts as Seokjin nudged me, 

“You must be hungry, do you want something to eat?” I nodded at him as he moved towards the kitchen, pushing at Jungkook as he tried to follow him and telling him something about how he wasn’t allowed into his kitchen anymore. 

“Can we have waffles?" Jimin asked excitedly sitting down in a bar stool at the island. 

"It’s almost midnight and you want waffles?" 

"With chocolate chips!” Tae added sitting next to Jimin and ignoring the glare Jin sent him. Jin then turned towards me, 

“Is that ok?” I nodded, giving him a thumbs up. Jin then got to work on cooking the waffles while my eyes downcast to the floor. A gentle hand was placed on my shoulder and I looked up to see Yoongi sending me a concerned look. 

“Are you ok?” I shook my head at his question just as the other boys turned their attention to me. 

“No, I’m not. Why am I here?” The room went quiet at my question, the only noise being the sizzling of the waffles. 

“What do you mean?” Namjoon spoke up, an awkward laugh escaping his throat. 

“I mean…” I hesitated, knowing that I may not like the answer to the question I was about to ask. “Why did you guys adopt me?” Some of the boys shared concerned glances, “you guys have everything. You’re rich and famous and you have each other, why did you feel the need to adopt someone? Let alone a teenage girl?” Another silence filled the room, Hoseok started to speak up, stuttering over his words. 

“We adopted you…because, w-well, its-” Namjoon interrupted the boy gently taking my hands into his.

“(Y/N), we adopted you because something was missing in our lives. That was you. We brought it up to the company managers and they thought it was a good idea. We wanted to adopt you.”

I stared in shock at Namjoon and gave a small hesitant nod. As soon as I had, the tension in the room completely shifted and I watched Hoseok let out an audible sigh of relief. But that wasn’t what concerned me. As everyone went back to joking and dealing with the beeping of the waffle maker, all I could think about was how Namjoon hadn’t looked me in the eye at all while he told me why I was adopted. And if there was one thing I knew from living in an orphanage, 

People don’t make eye contact when they lie 

~

The loud school bell shocked me out of my thoughts as I closed my locker, grabbing my textbooks and walking towards the classroom. Once I had broken through the sea of teens and finally got to class I took a seat at a two-person table. Searching through my backpack for a pen, 

“Hi,” a shy, soft voice spoke from my left. “Can I sit here?” I perked up at the voice, thinking it was Zara’s only to be met with sad eyes, curly blond hair pulled up into a messy bun and dark circles painting her tan skin purple under her eyes. 

“Amber? U-um, sure.” She took a seat in the green chair, putting her bag down then turning towards me. “Amber are you ok? You look….horrible.” I flinched at my harsh tone, hoping it didn’t sound as bad as it did out loud.

“Well, ever since the party all my friends left me. Calling me a drunk whore, and now the video of me in that pool is everywhere. Instagram, Snapchat, even Facebook.” She rubbed at her forehead with her hands. I didn’t know how to react, Amber had been such a, well, a bitch, and now I was watching her fall apart.  

“I’m so sorry Amber.” I paused, thinking over my next few words. Could I trust her? “If it’s any consolation, I lost my friend too. Zara won’t even talk to me anymore.” A silence developed between the two of us before she spoke up, 

“Its because you helped me, isn’t it?” I slowly nodded at Ambers question. While she groaned into her hands, 

“(Y/N) I’m so sorry.” Just as the words escaped her mouth the bell rang signaling the start of class as the teacher started talking. 

I couldn’t help but notice Ambers saddened glance as she snuck looks at me. Our English class had been taken over by our guidance counselors who had been working us up towards a project that I was particularly excited for. They wanted us to shadow a male or female in any business or job title, watch what they do and record the likes and dislikes to what they did. Supposedly it was supposed to help us choose what we wanted to study in college or pursue after high school. The bell rung quicker than expected and I started to pack up my bags until Amber slipped me a piece of paper. “If you ever want to talk or hang out, here’s my number, and I live right down the street from Zara’s house.” She gave me a sympathetic smile that made me question who the person standing in front of me was. This was not the Amber I knew. 

I returned the smile, taking the paper from her hand as she got up and left the classroom. I looked down at the slip of paper, Zara’s warning echoing in my mind, ‘we can’t trust her.’ I guiltily walked towards the exit, crumpling up the slip of paper and tossing it in the recycling as I left the room. 

My thumbs passed over the screen of my phone, rapidly texting the group chat that Namjoon had created with me and the seven boys. 

‘hey, r u still at BigHit?’ Jimin responded almost instantly to my text, 

'Yeah, why?’ I quickly explained over text that I had a project where I had to shadow a job and wanted to shadow them. The boys sent a flurry of heart emojis, uwu, and cutes in response. 

'Of course, I can meet you in the lobby in fifteen.’ Namjoon replied, just as the bell rang signaling the end of school. I rushed out of the building towards my driver who quickly brought me to BigHit. 

I lucked out in this project, most people would be shadowing CEO’s or office working jobs but I got to shadow real Kpop artists. I would be able to witness their songwriting process, dance rehearsals, behind the scenes. The more I thought about it the more anxious I got in my seat. The driver brought me towards the back entrance and after shouting a thank you, I exited the car and typed in a password to the lock key on the door. Once getting inside I walked towards the lobby, passing by several businesswomen and men, all barely giving me a second look since this wasn’t the first time I had been here. I dropped my bag on one of the couches, sitting down and waiting for Namjoon just as two security guards passed by behind me. I didn’t pay any attention to them until I heard their conversation, 

“Did you hear about BTS adopting some kid.” I huffed and slumped in my seat as I overheard the two men talking. I knew it was strange for a kpop group to adopt a kid but when would people finally get over it? “I heard bang PD forced them to do it for publicity” I froze at the security guards words, breath catching in my throat. 

“Bang told me that they got the oldest, win-win deal. Not only can she take care of herself but as soon as she turns eighteen they can kick her out cause she’ll be an adult.“ My mind started going into overdrive and suddenly everything made sense. The reason why I went on television with them, went to big events, did photoshoots, it was all so they could get a better reputation. Was this what Hoseok was trying to tell me the other day, that the whole reason they got me was so they could kick me out? Would they just drop me after high school? Was this all a game, a plot to them? I picked up my bag in a rush, slinging it over my shoulders. Tears forming in the corner of my eyes, I stood up from the couch rushing out of the lobby until a hand gently grabbed my arm. 

"Woah, hey, hey slow down.” I turned to find Namjoon just as more wet droplets started to fall down my face. “What happened, where are you going?” He softly asked which only annoyed me further. 

“Why would you fucking care?” Namjoon flinched at my harsh tone and he opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off. “ Actually why don’t I do you a favor I’ll disappear and we can tell the public that you’ve adopted an orphan, get your fans to feel all sympathetic and I’ll take care of myself so you don’t have to wait till I’m eighteen.” A look of realization fell on his face as a quiet sob escaped my throat. He reached forward to brush away my tears but I slapped his hand away. 

“That way I’m no longer a problem.” My shoulders shook as I bit my lip to stop the sobs attempting to escape, rapid tears dripping down my cheeks. 

“(Y/N) that’s not what happened.” His voice cracked slightly at his words as if he was about to break down at either the sight of me crying or the fact I found out the truth. 

“Really? How come you didn’t get a cute kid then? Wasn’t it because they were too much work. In a few years I’ll be an adult and out of your lives, isn’t that what you wanted?” He took a step towards me as I took a step back, 

“No! Just wait, please.” I ignored his comment and swiftly turned on my heel running through the building towards the back entrance only to slam into a body as I turned a corner. I grunted as I fell to the floor, rubbing at my head as someone offered me a hand up. 

“Woah there, (Y/N)? Are you okay? Have you been crying?” I disregarded Seokjin’s hands and concerned brown eyes as I stood to my feet. 

“Just, stay away from me.” Seokjin recoiled at my words, his face morphing into one of confusion, hurt emoting from him at my words. 

“Wha-,” I ran off, away from him before he could say anything else and ran out the back door phone in hand as I called the nearest taxi, knowing my driver wouldn’t bring me anywhere if any of the boys told him not to. 

Within minutes I was rushing out of the building towards the front parking lot, jumping in the back of a taxi and telling the driver the first address that came to mind. 

~ 

Pulling out a crumpled twenty dollar bill from the bottom of my backpack I handed the bill towards the driver. An annoyed grunt escaping his mouth as I climbed out of the smelly car. I walked up to the steps to her house, finding myself once again in front of her mahogany door. “Zara?” I called out as I pounded on the door, “Hello!” When I got no answer I turned to the driveway to find it empty, maybe she wasn’t home. My stomach started to twist and I angrily slammed my hand against the door. What the hell was I supposed to do? I couldn’t go back to there house, Zara wasn’t home, even if she was she wouldn’t let me in. I had no friends, no family, what was I supposed to do? 

A high pitched bark knocked me out of my thoughts, 

“(Y/N)?” I turned away from the door to find a casually dressed Amber in Skinny Jeans, tube top and a cardigan instead of her normal school uniform. She held a black leash with white dog paws imprinted on the material, connecting to a white-collar around a fluffy, small brown dog. Ambers dog was the fluffiest dog I had ever seen. It reminded me of a giant brown puffball, the only thing that disguised it as a dog was its four legs and the black snout and tongue that stuck out of its mouth. “Hey, are you ok?” I shook my head at the girl, wrapping my arms around my waist, 

“Um, do you, want to hang out?” Amber hesitantly nodded as she motioned to a white house down the street. 

“Yeah, my moms at a business conference so it’s just you and me, you can stay however long you want.” I nodded at the girl, giving her a small smile as she leads me towards her house. My phone beeped as I took my phone out, expecting it to be one of the boys messaging me but instead it was from another unknown number. 

‘See you soon.’

~

    I walked out of Ambers bathroom, clad in a pair of her sweatpants and sweatshirt she offered me so I wouldn’t have to keep wearing my school uniform. I tucked my phone back into my pocket, ignoring the countless calls and text messages from each of the boys. Shutting the device down so I wouldn’t have to listen to the constant buzzing and vibrating. I sat down next to Amber on her bed as she patted her dog. 

    “What’s his name?” I motioned to the brown fluff ball who was turned on his back, wiggling his stomach for attention. 

“Don’t laugh,” Amber spoke then started rubbing the dog’s belly, as he let out little chatters of happiness. “His name is peanut butter.” A chuckle escaped my throat and she sent me a humorous glare throwing one of her pillows at me. “I told you not to laugh.” Her words caused the two of us to burst into obnoxious chatters until we finally calmed down, the only sound in the room was peanut butter’s small yips. “Do you want to talk about it?” I parted my lips, thinking over what exactly I should and shouldn’t tell her. A part of me was still concerned that I was in Amber’s house, the girl who bullied me, and the girl I punched. 

“Well, I’m adopted, and I always thought it was strange that world-famous Kpop band BTS adopted me.” Amber nodded at my words, her attention fully devoted to me. “I mean, what 20-year-old boys would want a teenage girl? Life doesn’t work that way, or at least that’s what I thought. I know it’s stupid, but u-um, l-lately I thought they were different.” I felt my eyes well up despite the amount of crying I had done today. “It’s silly, but I thought they might want me.” More tears started to fall from my face and I brought my hand up, covering my mouth and the sob about to escape. “But, I found out today that I was just another publicity stunt.” This time the sob escaped my mouth and I did nothing to hide it, an awkward hand patted my shoulder in comfort and I raised an eyebrow at the girl across from me. 

“Gee, that sucks.” I laughed through my tears at her words and she gave me a bashful look. “Sorry, I’m not that good at comforting people.” I gave her a thankful smile then started looking around the room. 

“So, where are your parents?” As soon as the words left my mouth I instantly regretted them. “Sorry, that was insensitive.” 

“No, no, it’s fine. My moms a corporate lawyer, so she’s always out of town and a lot of people hate her. My dad works in New York at Apple industries. He sends money on my birthdays and last year he gave me a car for Christmas, so it’s cool.” Damn her parents were loaded. “They aren’t married though, my mom goes through a lot of guys.” I nodded at the girl, 

“I’m sorry, that must be rough.” She shrugged at my comment just as Peanut Butter stood up on his four legs, walking towards Amber and snuggling up next to her. “Thank you, by the way, for helping me.” 

“If anything I should be thanking you. If you weren’t at that party I don’t know what would have happened.” Amber scrunched up her nose at her next comment, “sorry for puking in his car.” I laughed, wiping at the dried tears on my face, 

“Can you believe you puked in Jungkook, maknae of BTS, car?” 

“You could sell that on Etsy for millions.” Our laughter brought me back down to earth, thoughts of Zara invading my mind. 

“Why does Zara hate you so much?” Amber tensed at my question, her dark green eyes meeting mine. 

“Zara and I were best friends, but I hurt her. I stopped spending time with her and was more interested in Instagram likes, and boys while she focused on school. 

I hated how easily you and Zara became friends when you showed up at the school. You stood up for her, something I could never do, and now I don’t have any friends.” Amber looked down at her hands in shame, messy bun flopping to the side as she moved her head. 

“We can be friends.” Her head shot up, a wide-smile replacing the frown on her lips. 

“Really?” I nodded and she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “About Zara, I’ve never seen her so happy with anyone, until she met you. She’ll come around.” I smiled at the girl as she stood up and flopped backward onto her bed, eyes cast towards her ceiling. 

“Hey Amber,” she hummed in response. “I like the real you better than the fake you.” It was crazy when I had first met her we were enemies when I had entered her house I couldn’t decide whether we were friend or foe. Now I knew for sure, Amber was like me in a lot of ways. Another scared teenager impacted by their parent’s bad choices. Amber was definitely a friend.

Taglist: @xxqueenwxtchxx @ayyeaestheticgirl18 @im-emo-motherfuckers@kamirichibi  @officiallyza @treetops68 @there-could-be-stairs  @acklesgold @bisoo-ausucre @bts-edits-bitch @celestial-m00n @springdayblink @joyful-jimin @vannilacake  @youcantbesiriusremus @i-like-puppy-mg @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore  @officiallyza @odditiesanddeities

[anninhiliation]

The Encounter

A/N: This is my submission for the iconic @cnc-oh-boi​ ‘s AU contest congratulations on the 500 queen and to many more! Sorry this took so long kdksfhskjfhdsk I also feel like I just wrote an episode of Supernatural jkhjhkjh (Zabdiel would be moose and Richard would be squirrel sdfjjshjkfs if this was a whole  ass Supernatural spinoff) 

Also; if you guys don't follow Riley TF you doing fam?

Masterlist               Spirit World Masterlist 

“Richuki mira aca” I heard a voice shout as the conservatory window creaked open and a pair of footsteps thudded onto the ground knocking a ceramic pot to the ground

“It seems we have visitors” Mr. Roswelled croaked as he balanced with his two hands on the brass of his cane and slowly lowered himself down on his red leather armchair

“It's been a long time since someone stopped by” I joked as I shut my book closed and filed it back in the bookshelf

“I got the bees-knees just checked out the noise and there’s a hoty-toty in here” Miriam gossiped strutting into the Library swaying her hips side to side 

“Is it just one person?” I questioned as we heard the conservatory’s door open and more footsteps enter

“Does that answer your question?” she cocked her eyebrow taking a drag out of her cigarette holder as a familiar sound of a chain dragging itself into the library approached

“M- miss L/N, I- I beg your pardon b- but there’s a mess of boys out exploring and y- you should check the kitchen y- you won’t believe it,” Curtis stuttered as he fidgeted with the chain around his neck

“Curtis its been seventy-one years that I’ve been telling you to call me Y/N” I stated matter of factly “what’s in the kitchen anyways?” I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows.

“I r- reckon y- you ch- check for y- yourself miss” Curtis responded as he lowered his head eyes fixed on the rusty old metal links

“Will do Curt” I responded as I walked away

Walking down the hall I noticed it was a total of five guys, counting the one in the kitchen. A tall blonde stood in the conservatory admiring the stars. Another one with dark curly hair, a paperboy hat and a complexion that was close to Roberts walked towards the library. 

“My my well isn’t this a sheik” I heard Miriam gawk 

I found two in the parlor looking through the cabinets as Eugene and Eleanor kept an eye on them. 

“Chris mira” one giggled as he found Earls monocle and top hat

“Earls not going to like this” Eugene shook his head as he got up and walked into the music room

I continued to walk and stood in the doorway of the kitchen with pure shock as my jaw dropped. Seventy-one painstaking years of roaming the halls in between the four large walls I never thought I would see what stood before my eyes. It was him, it was the love of my life, Robert. But he was...different. His once short black hair was longer, shaved at the sides and dyed a crimson red. Tattoos covered his body, ears pierced and he had a nose ring. His clothing was all wrong too but this was Robert standing in the kitchen. I could sense that that was Robert’s soul. He opened the cabinets, then fridge like Robert used to do when he would come home from work making me smile at the old memories. 

"Yo that's wack" he muttered to himself as the rotting stench of the fridge pierced his senses 

I admired him until I noticed something in my peripheral vision making my eyes widen. I spotted Sam in the dumbwaiter, watching Robert attentively. After the incident, Earl was rarely spotted but kept Sam close making the young boy his little puppet. I walked past Robert, locking eyes with Sam as fear pulsated through me.

“Wheres Earl?” I hissed at the boy 

“Master doesn’t like me speaking to you guys” Sam stated as his gaze was locked on Robert

“You can’t tell Earl people are in the house. You understand that right?” I questioned

Sam simply nodded his head no as he tried to turn on the dumbwaiter. I grabbed his hand and forcefully pulled him out dragging him back to the library. 

“My my well isn’t this a night of surprises?” Miriam cheered as her eyes glued to the frightened boy “What’s it been? Ten years? No- must be about fifteen? Who knows.”

“It’s Robert he’s back- Earl, he’s going to try to hurt him we have to keep Earl away from him” I stammered to Miriam and Mr. Rosewelled 

“Dear, I’m afraid it’s a little late for that. The brute spotted one of the visitors-” Constance sighed as she entered the room

“I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!” I screamed shoving Sam towards Mr. Roswelled and ran around the mansion looking for Earl.

“Don’t interrupt me, dear!” Constance hissed as she followed me from close behind “it’s not the young man who looks like Robert it’s a different boy.” 

I stopped dead in my tracks and faced Constance “but Robert came in with these people so we have to protect them too”

“Oh my lord” She gasped hovering her palm over her mouth 

“What?” My eyes widened as I shot my head around the hallway 

“You’ve lost your mind. I thought I would be the first to go or Curtis since we are the oldest. But it’s you, all this Robert talk. I've seen both the real Robert and this redhead you call Robert. They both just look a lot alike...Please tell me you know that.” Constance placed her hands on my shoulders as we heard a loud thud and a man scream “Joel” making both our heads shot up the stairs 

“We have to go, Earls going to kill them” I grabbed Constance’s hand and dragged her towards the commotion up the stairs 

In the upstairs hallway, Earl had his hands around a guy’s throat, holding him up against the wall. The boy with the dark curls’ face was turning red, as he struggled to try to fight back the invisible force. His two friends looked like they were in bad shape, probably from Earl as they could only manage to lay on the ground and scream “Joel”. Anger fueled my body, as I appeared in the physical world and screamed on the top of my lungs at Earl. All eyes were on me as Constance looked at me with pure shock and the living souls screamed in terror at me. Earl looked at me filled with wrath and let the boy go vanishing through the wall, as Norma appeared for her residual haunting. 

“You’ve done it now dear” Constance sighed 

“Don’t mind her, she’s been doing the same thing for years now,” I told the three boys as I watched Normal do her routine of sprinting up the stairs holding her long dress high enough to show her ankles with a frightened expression, muttering incoherent words. She tripped halfway down the hall, turning around while still on the ground screaming as she lifted her arm as if she was trying to protect herself. Norma faded into the thin air letting me focus back on the boys

“Ay Dios mio...you're...dead…” The curly boy spoke as he did the sign of the cross

“And you’re in my house” I retorted

“Ay nena you’re not going to possess us...are you?” The skinny boy with long brown hair asked 

“I have a name you know. It's Y/N and no I don’t possess people...but you guys need to get out of here.” I warned as I inspected their injuries

“Yea...about that…” The dark curly-haired boy nervously spoke

“What?” I questioned 

“The windows and doors are locked” The skinny one with long brown hair admitted

“Great Earl’s playing cat and mouse with these poor boys” Constance interrupted as she nervously paced around us

“Well his games over” I declared 

The three boys looked at me as if I had three heads making me realize Constance had still not shown herself in the physical world. 

“Constance, you want to show yourself?” I glared at her

“Fine” she whined as she crossed over to the physical world

“How many of you are there?” The green-eyed boy questioned

“Doesn't matter” Constance snapped “follow me I know a way out”

“Wait we have two other friends downstairs”  The curly-haired one argued

The five of us rushed downstairs as the boys shouted “Richard” and “Zabdiel” finding Zabdiel in the library deep into a book and Richard in the music room playing with the instruments.  

I couldn't help but stare at Richard memorized by how much he acted and looked like Robert. He must have caught me staring because he shot me a look of confusion. 

“You look like someone I used to know” I explained to him as Constance paced around thinking of a way to get everyone out

I grabbed my shriveled up copy of A Streetcar Named Desire and flipped it to the middle where I hid a picture of Robert, Leroy, and I. Grabbing the photograph I showed Richard, pointing at Robert.

“This was Robert...my husband…this was Leroy our- my baby” I smiled remembering the day we took the picture. 

It was the first day of spring, Leroy was just four months at the time and Robert was just promoted in the factory, life was looking up for my family.  Richard stared at the photograph memorized, not even noticing his friend walk up to him. 

“Ay papa mira son iguales" Richard's friend gasped

“I got it!” Constance interrupted making all eyes land on her “just follow me, the walls have ears you know, but terrible eyesight” 

She walked up to the third floor and into what used to be her bedroom. 

“You know this house was built for me” She explained as she opened the doors to the walk-in closet “and when I died in here I couldn't help but take some secrets with me” 

Constance knelt down by a soggy old cardboard box and moved it to the side. She grabbed the corner of the moldy carpet and pulled it across the small room creating a triangle. Grabbing the edge of one of the wooden planks Constance lifted it up exposing a hidden crawl space. 

“It's a tight squeeze but it will get you out” she smiled

“Sure about that?” Echoed through the dark hole 

“Shit” I uttered as I threw the wooden planks back onto the ground “we need another way”

We ran down the hall, only to stop like a deer in the headlights as Sam stood at the edge of the stairs. Unexpectedly, Eugene appeared from across the hall and charged at Sam with full force. Both of them fell down the stairs, as Eugene grabbed Sam refusing to let him go. Eugene’s big build broke the stairs’ railing sending them both to the first floor. We heard Earl yell at Eugene making us run back into Constance’s room.

“Yo we cant leave you with that guy here” Richard argued

“That’s sweet dear, but I've been dealing with him since I was alive. Once the living is off the property I’m sure he will go back into hiding” Constance smiled as she uncovered the crawl space 

“Eleanor dear” Constance called out into the crawl space 

Slowly the little seven-year-old girl popped her head up from the crawl space. Her light blue eyes looked up at Constance as she rested her arms on the wooden floor. 

“Dear do you mind guiding the living safely out? Y/N and I are going to distract Sam and Earl as you guide them out...the closest way out is by the patio.” Constance winked 

Eleanor nodded her head as she moved away, allowing the boys to crawl in. They all looked at each other and backed away making me furrow my eyebrows. 

“What are you doing? Eugene cant distract them forever you know! It’s now or never! Go!” I hissed pushing them closer to the hole.

“Sorry shawty we can’t leave you guys here with that guy,” Richard remarked

Constance rolled her eyebrows, “Li-” she went to respond as Miriam appeared in the physical realm 

“Its always the macho men” Miriam laughed “Use ladies can take care of the big bad man” she purred as she stood in front of Erick lightly trailing her finger around his chest 

“But if you guys are scared I can guide you in the tight little space” Miriam flirted as she blew smoke into Chris 

Joel was the first move past the guys and step close to the crawl space. 

“I’ll get a priest to bless the house tomorrow if you can please bring me his things so we can get those blessed too,” Joel ordered before stepping into the crawl space.

Zabdiel was the next to step in, “I didn’t even want to come here in the first place dios mio” he muttered before disappearing into the darkness.

Erick looked at Chris who looked over at Richard. 

“We should go, como quieres pelear una fantasma?” Chris sighed as he placed his hand on Richard’s shoulder

“We gotta do something man” Richard groaned

“No offense pero nos podemos ir?” Erick asked as he tried to usher both of his friends into the crawl space 

Stomping came up the stairs and down the hall making all three quickly rush into the crawl space with the help of Miriam shoving them in. Earl busted down the closet door right after we fixed the carpet. 

“Where are they?” He fumed 

“Let me show you” Miriam purred as she slowly approached him “I cant take you to them real fast” 

He pulled out an engagement ring and flashed it in front of her. Her head slightly turned back, facing us with distraught. 

“M-my ring...Earl baby you wouldn’t” Miriam fake laughed trying to cover her fear

“Don’t test me or you’ll burn” He growled 

The two walked away, as I looked over to Constance who shared the same expression of worry as me. 

“We have to help her” I distressed as I went to leave the room

Constance grabbed my hand and stopped me. 

“There’s nothing we can do. If she does the right thing, she will accept her fate, if she makes the wrong choice we might have a new group of people with us” Constance acknowledged 

“Cant we distract Earl?” I pleaded 

“Dear, if we upset him further he’s going to send us to the flames” Constance stated matter of factly 

“Constance you’re not helping!” I snapped

“Dear, this is not your problem! Those boys should have known of the dark history of this property...yet they still choose to enter” Constance defended 

Constance was right but I didn’t want to admit, I was furious storming out of the room and acting on impulse. I marched down the stairs and into Earl’s office grabbing an old box of matches and everything flammable into the fireplace. The fire roared heating the room and illuminating the once dark and gloomy office. 

“What are you doing?” Mr. Roswelled questioned as I threw a stack of books into the fire

“Earl needs a taste of his own medicine he needs to burn” I explained as the fire burned through the pages 

“You’re only going to upset him further...his item is kept close to him” Mr. Roswelled spoke as he watched me throw anything I could get my hands on to throw it in

“Well he can ta-” I went to answer as Earl barged into the room with a crying Miriam 

“I’m sorry” she continuously choked out between the tears 

My eyes widened as Earl pulled out my heart-shaped locket and walked towards the fire. 

“You wouldn’t” I argued

“Watch me” He snapped as he held the chain over the hungry flames 

Glass shattered as a rock went through Earl and smashing a lamp. Earl looked up, confused as another rock came flying through the shattered window, taking more glass down. Earl pulled the chain away from the fire as he walked towards the window distracted by the commotion. I took the opportunity to grab my locket and bolt towards the door. I ran out the front door to be met with the same five people who entered. Erick and Chris were both distracted throwing rocks into the only room with light. 

“Richard!” I shouted as Earl trailed close behind me “you guys have to go” 

“But look who came out shawty” Richard shouted back as I heard Earl scream 

His spirit lit up the night sky, as I looked up towards the office window and saw Mr. Roswelled standing near the broken glass watching. 

“You took your item so I took his” He shouted

I looked back at Richard and jumped into his arms. 

“Thank you” I whispered and kissed his cheek 

“Richuki vamos!” Erick shouted as the four others crawled through a hole in the chainlink fence

“No problem shawty” He smiled before turning away and never looking back

[shy-marker-pliers]

The Adventures of Eric Derekson Chapter 9 | Nightmares

Relationship: Heric

Warnings: physical abuse from a parent, crying, nightmares (obvi)

Taglist:  @ericdereksonprotectionsquad @random-awkward-person @salty-sadness22 @allidrawsstuff @weretiger19 @jackthekit-kat @cute-anxious-kitten @i-am-a-losercorn @skepticeye @muntiller @djpaige13paige @mysepticheartfan1 @bashfulmusician @mayelamker @russellhowell @little-frying-pan @friendlyphantom @mutechild @supreme-meme-machine @caori-azarath @lamiasluck

“You’re useless.”

“you’re worthless.”

“I wish you’d never been born.”

“You should have died instead of your brothers.”

Eric couldn’t see. the world around him was dark, and he couldn’t tell if it was just the room or if he had gone blind. Not that it was his main concern right now.

Derek’s voice was all around him, booming, yelling. he covered his ears, but the voice seemed to find its way into his head, even louder than before. He was screaming and screaming and all Eric wanted was for it to stop-

Suddenly, he was in his room. All was quiet, except for the sound of his breathing. He nearly sobbed in relief, but then...

There Derek was, standing in his room just like he had been weeks ago. All Eric remembered after that was pain. His father was hitting him and screaming and god Eric just wanted it to be over. he wanted it to stop hurting, he wanted to get away, he wanted to die-

Thump.

Eric fell onto his bedroom floor, tangled up in his blankets with the salty taste of tears on his lips. Then he was sobbing, unsure if it was from fear, relief, or a mixture of the two. He carefully freed himself from his blankets and stood up on shaking legs, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself.

After Eric had used a tissue to dry his remaining tears and washed his face with some cool water, he went to the place he always did whenever he had a nightmare.

The Host’s library.

Checking the clock, he saw that it was about 2 AM, which meant that he would be finishing up his radio show right about now. He had told Eric that he was welcome in the library anytime, but he still knocked. Being polite was important after all.

He heard the sound of static, then a click of a machine being switched off.

“Enter.”

He carefully pushed open the large oak doors that gave way to the library. “H-Hey Host. ‘s me.”

Host rounded the corner. His usual getup of a trenchcoat, collared shirt and dress pants was abandoned in favor of a large grey sweater and pajama pants that had little blue stars on them.

“The Host had a feeling Eric would be coming tonight, so he dressed accordingly.”

Eric blushed. The Host never let himself be seen in anything but his normal outfit. To be honest, Eric didn’t think he even had any other clothes until that moment. And yet, here he was.

“O-Oh, you didn’t have to do that...I mean, i-if you wanted to that’s okay! And i’m not saying you look bad, you l-look really good- er, not that you don’t look good normally! You a-always look good, I just- (Shut up Eric, you’re blowing it!) ...you look different, is all. A good different.”

The Host put a hand over his mouth to hide a small laugh.

“The Host understands what Eric means. He thanks him for the compliment.”

“y-you’re welcome...anyways, i’m guessing since you knew I was coming you know w-why i’m here too.”

Host’s expression turned solemn as he nodded and wrapped an arm around Eric’s shoulders.

“Come on, Eric needs to get some rest. it’s only 2 in the morning, after all.”

The Host was warm as always, and Eric found himself snuggling into his side. His tiredness hit him like a tidal wave, and he let out a big yawn, stumbling a bit. Host smiled softly and picked Eric up, carrying him to the big leather couch in the center of the library.

“The Host apologizes for the clutter.”

Eric chuckled. “You always say that. Don’t worry ‘bout it, it makes it more homey.”

Host set Eric down. “Tea?”

“Not tonight, thanks.”

“Sleep it is, then.”

Host laid down on the couch first, stretching out similarly to how a cat would. Then came Eric, curling up on his chest and wrapping his arms around his middle. finally, Host pulled a blanket over the two of them and rested a hand on Eric’s curly black hair, combing his fingers through it absently. The other sighed, leaning into The Host’s touch.

After a few minutes, Eric asked in a small voice, “Host? C-Can you tell me a story? My mama used to do that whenever I couldn’t sleep. i-it helps. Being able to hear someone else’s voice, I mean.”

“The Host doesn’t see why not, It is his job after all. Is there any story in particular Eric would like to hear?”

“I dunno, something nice. A h-happy story.”

“Alright, give The Host a moment to think.”

He was silent for a few seconds before he began to speak.

“Once, there was a giant named Simon. He lived all alone in a huge forest with only the wild animals to keep him company. Though he had clothes, shelter, lakes to swim in and enough food and water to last him forever, he wasn’t content. In fact, he was very lonely. After all, what good is a paradise when there is no one to share it with?

“So one day, Simon decided to go into town. For the first time, he left his forest and ventured out into civilization. But when he got there, the people all ran for their lives. They all thought that he would kill them, or destroy their village. Though Simon was big enough to crush their houses with a few steps, that didn’t mean he wanted to. In fact, all he wanted in life was a friend, someone to help his forest home feel less lonely. He looked all around, but all the villagers had hidden, and he certainly didn’t want to take one of them away if they didn’t want to go. So he went back to his forest.

“Simon cried enough tears to fill a lake that night. He sat on the ground, not wanting to go anywhere or do anything. The wild animals were worried for him, but when they came to try and help him feel better, he just ignored them.

“Later that day, he heard yelling. it was two men, The bigger one chasing the smaller and calling him things like ‘street rat’ and ‘dirty theif.’ he was carrying a loaf of bread and some fruit, and Simon guessed that he had no food at home. So he hid behind a tree, and when the men ran past, he scooped up the small one and scared the bigger one away. He thought that the smaller would run too, after the danger went away, but to his surprise, he stayed and thanked Simon for saving him.

“The man’s name was Charlie, and he had no home and no family to speak of. Simon offered to let him stay in the forest with him, and Charlie agreed. So the two became friends, and spent the rest of their days together in the forest. The end.”

Eric squeezed Host a bit tighter when the story was done. “That story’s about us, r-right?”

“The Host may have...drawn some inspiration from reality, yes.” He said with a small smile.

“I like that story. s’nice.”

“The Host is glad Eric thinks so.”

Eric was about to say something else, but was interrupted by a huge yawn. Host ruffled his hair.

“Eric needs to get some sleep. It’s far too late for him to be up.”

“okay. g’night, Host.”

...—...

Host didn’t have an alarm clock because he found that he woke up at about the same time every day anyway, but Eric needed one if he wanted to wake up anytime before 10. So when The Host woke at the usual time and Eric was still sleeping, hugging him like a giant teddy bear, he had no choice but to wake him up. He gently shook his shoulder.

“Eric needs to wake up, it’s almost time for breakfast.”

Eric grumbled and smushed his face into Hosts stomach. “Nooooo...I don’ wanna get up, y-you’re warm...”

“The early bird catches the worm.”

“I don’t want w-worms, I want sleep and hugs.”

Host sat up, causing Eric to have to do the same.

“Whyyyy?”

“Because Wilford is making french toast, and The Host will die before he misses Wilford’s french toast.”

The Host stood up and disappeared for a few minutes before coming back wearing his usual clothes. Eric was still in his pajamas and his hair was a mess, but he had put on his glasses. Host put his arm around Eric and steered him towards the kitchen.

“I don’t see why I couldn’t have gotten a few more minutes of sleep.”

“French toast waits for no man, dear.” The name slipped out before Host had the chance to stop himself. He froze, but to his relief the only reaction he got from Eric was a smile and a slight blush. The two continued on their way to the kitchen.

Eric wasn’t sure what he would call him and Host. Great friends definitely, maybe even best friends, but neither of them had made a move to make it anything more than that. Though they were much more affectionate towards each other than they were with anyone else, neither of them had said anything about it. If Eric weren’t so anxious he would have, but that obviously wasn’t the case. So friends they stayed.

Eric liked The Host. Of course he did, or else he wouldn’t have spent almost all of his time with him. If he didn’t like Host, he wouldn’t come to him whenever he had nightmares, he wouldn’t talk with him for hours, and he definitely wouldn’t be thinking about how strong he was, or his laugh, or that lopsided smile of his, or his perfect voice, or how damn gorgeous he had looked in that sweater the previous night-

Eric needed to stop before he turned into a living tomato. At the moment, he and Host were friends. Nothing more, nothing less. And that was enough.

For now.