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timetoletmyimaginationfly · 2 days

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Promises I Intend To Keep 3

Nanami Kento x Reader

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Song: End of Beginning by Djo

Nanami’s eyes never left the screen of his computer. He listened to the familiar footsteps inside his office. He didn’t have to look up to know it was his high school friend, Haibara Yu.

“Anything?” Nanami asked. Haibara shook his head with a frown. His frown deepened when Nanami slammed his fist on his desk hard. “It’s been 9 years!”

“We’ll find her,” he said swiftly. Nanami just nodded, eyes remaining on the chord bracelet you gave him years ago. “Are you sure she’s still in Japan though?”

“Yes,” Nanami said as the two walked to the parking garage. “She was sent up north, hours away from where we lived. My mother paid an absurd amount of money for their house.” Haibara nodded.

“Her father passed away five years ago,” he mentioned.

“He was involved in a car accident. His fault though since he was drinking. God, it was all I’ve seen him do.”

“You met the man?” Haibara asked curiously. Nanami nodded.

“He was always nice around me,” he answered. Haibara nodded and flipped through the files in hand.

“You never saw her in Todai.” Nanami shook his head. “I’ll do more investigating. Unless you need me to do something else? I think we’re caught up on schedule with meetings and what not.”

“Find her. Please.” Nanami’s voice softened at the end with vulnerability.

“I won’t disappoint. I’ll call Gojo-san and Geto-san.

“Tell Geto-san to help out when he’s done interviewing the new recruits. Have him send me the files immediately once he’s done.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, Yu.”

“No problem, Kento.”

Nanami watched Haibara leave the office first. He stared at the chord bracelet on his left wrist. He remembered you putting it on him. A night where his mother was out of town and you slept over while she was away. He checked his phone. Old photos from before that he never got rid of. Photos of you and him before you left. The smile on your face that gave him constant motivation to find you. The smile he has been longing to see for the past 9 years.

“I’ll find you, sweetheart. I promise.”

He sticks to his normal routes around Tokyo. He refuses to explore more and find a whole bunch of new restaurants and stores. He needed you around. He wanted to get lost with you like he planned to years ago. He parked at another parking garage to quickly grocery shop before he went back home.

He can’t help but to always remember the times when his mother was out on business trips and the two of you would grocery shop together. You were always determine to cook him dinner. And he was always eager to help you.

“Wait! I promise! This will taste good!” you exclaimed as you tried to add Cajun seasoning to the Alfredo sauce. Nanami laughed, gently and slowly letting you go. “Okay, a little bit at a time won’t hurt.” You gave him a small spoonful to try and Nanami nodded with approval.

“Fine, put more.”

“Told you so, Kento!”

“You’re here. I know you’re here,” he kept muttering to himself. He looked back at his phone, finding you in places that he ever thought he would see you.

He was used to the stares. It was like high school except this time it was around the world. Everyone knew who he was. A young and successful CEO of 7:3 Security at the age of 27 that he built from the ground up. A man with ambition. His goal to make it to the top so he could find you.

“Nanami-san, can we have an autograph?” Nanami gave the group of females a small smile and nodded. He signed their small note pads before giving them a bow before walking away.

He grabbed a cart, starting off in the produce section of the store. He made mental checks of everything that he needed for home. Onions. Garlic. Pepper. Potatoes. You name it. But his mind went blank. The familiar chime that he loves to hear years ago.

“That’s such great news! I think you’ll get the job, Shoko.” His ears perked. He was sure of that voice. He looked around, but the grocery store was crowded. “I mean, as long as I’m allowed to just sit around and hang out I’ll stop by every now and then. Ieiri Shoko, quit being nervous. You’ll get the job.”

He shook his head. He had to be hearing things. It was almost too easy. His eyes wandered until they landed on a woman on the phone. His eyes remained on her. He really looked at her. The features he studied everyday, there was no doubt that it was you. He abandoned his shopping cart, striding his way towards you. But he suddenly stopped when a a male of average height and dark hair approached you. He raised an eyebrow. He knew him. And you knew him. You smiled and spoke happily to him. He felt a quick and tight squeeze in his heart. But nonetheless, he approached you two.

“Higuruma-san,” Nanami called. Higuruma looked up, his aloof expression mirroring Nanami’s as he nodded in response.

“Nanami-san,” Higuruma responded. You turned to look up at Nanami. You didn’t know how to explain it. Your heart was suddenly racing while an intense feeling coursed through your body. Your mouth felt dry, your body also numb.

And Nanami saw you. He paid attention to your reaction. The dumbfounded and puzzled expression you held. He never expected it unless his appearance changed throughout the years. But he knew he didn’t change much, just like you. Softly, he called your name. And your eyes widened. You bowed deeply.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nanami-san,” you said softly with your soft smile. His heart stopped.

Meet?

“You two know each other?” Higuruma asked. Nanami nodded but you shook your head. It only made Nanami frown.

“You’re…familiar,” you admitted slowly. You knew you did. You had a good feeling that you do know. Nanami nodded and cleared his throat. His eyes scanned you again. The golden, infinity necklace remained around your neck and the diamond ring he gave remained on your left finger. He felt a bit relieved.

“We went to the same high school,” Nanami answered. You giggled.

“We did?” Nanami nodded.

“But you moved.” You felt a hard tug on your chest and Nanami caught the split second of your pained expression. It was as if he could feel your pain. It urged him to hold you, but he knew that he couldn’t at the moment. He watched you give him a small yet soft smile.

“I heard you hired Hiromi-kun as your defense attorney,” you said brightly.

Hiromi-kun…

“Good choice, Nanami-san. He’s one of the best.” Nanami gave you a tight smile and nodded.

“Yes,” Nanami said and looked at Higuruma. He hated the affectionate look Higuruma was giving you. He respected the man, but, at this moment, he couldn’t respect him. “Top of Japan.” Higuruma nodded.

“Thank you, Nanami-san.” A phone suddenly rang. Higuruma suddenly took a step to the side and answered his call. “I’ll be right back, sweetie.” You nodded before turning back to Nanami.

Sweetie…

“You two are…?”

“Ah, h-he just calls me that,” you said nervously as you fiddled with your ring. “When I moved, he became my only friend in high school. When I came to Tokyo, he hired me on the spot as a secretary at his office.” He felt relieved. But it bugged him to not know your feelings for him. He could easily see it through Higuruma.

“Just friends?” he blurted out. He mentally winced at himself.

“Just friends,” you said reassuringly with a smile. You had a far away look, leaving Nanami mesmerized. “He reminds me of someone important. You know what? You two remind me of each other. It’s almost like a coincidence.” You giggled. Nanami softly smiled. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned around to see Higuruma.

“My client wants to meet right now,” he said. “You’ll be alright?” You nodded.

“I’m okay. Thank you, Hiromi-kun,” you replied. Higuruma gave you a soft smile before looking at Nanami expressionlessly.

“I’ll see you around,” Higuruma said. Nanami nodded.

“You as well,” he replied. The two of you watched him walk out of the store. You turned back to Nanami. His eyes were soft and warm, making you feel warm as well. You felt your heart race that you almost felt dizzy.

“Maybe I’ll see you again one day,” you said. You were about to walk away when he didn’t respond, but Nanami immediately reached out to you and held your arm. You inaudibly gasped. The warmth of his hand felt so familiar, warm, and safe. It made your thoughts go haywire.

How will it feel to be wrapped in his arms?

“T-The necklace and ring. They look beautiful on you.” Your cheeks turned pink. The compliment coming from him. It didn’t seem like it was said to be polite because he is the CEO.

“Thank you, Nanami-san,” you said with a soft smile. “I don’t remember who gave them to me. But, I know deep down that it’s the most important things I have. Is that strange?” Nanami felt his heart skip a beat that he smiled.

“Not at all,” he said softly. He loves the blush on your cheeks, knowing that he was the only one able give you that effect. Back then and right now. Not Hiromi Higuruma. Just Nanami Kento.

And you enjoy his presence. All you want to do is to spend more time with him.

“Want to grocery shop together?” you asked curiously. So yes, you decided to keep him around. Nanami chuckled.

“I would love to. Follow me. My cart is over there. What do you need to get?”

“Ingredients for Cajun chicken and broccoli Alfredo.” His heart skipped a beat.

“That’s my favorite.”

“Mine too! It’s one of the best meals I can cook, Nanami-san!” It bothered Nanami to no end. It felt too easy. Finding you was too easy. But as it was, he found you a challenge. Not knowing who he is just became that extra obstacle he needed to take care of.

“So…you don’t remember me?” he asked. You shook your head. “I guess since there’s a bunch of us at the high school.” You nodded.

“Ever since I got into a car accident, things have been different,” you said as you picked up items for dinner.

“Car accident?” Nanami questioned, worry evident in his voice. Again, you felt a skip of your heartbeat.

“Five years ago,” you answered. “It killed my father. It was a pretty bad accident and the doctors and nurses were surprised that I survived. I couldn’t remember anything at first, but memories were slowly coming back. But I know they’re not all back. I can feel it.”

“I’m sorry that happened.”

“And it sucks because I don’t even remember where I actually grew up. I don’t know where my mom is or where I got the jewelry. And this note. I have the most encouraging note and it makes me love the person who wrote it.” You don’t know why you were telling Nanami this. It felt so easy to tell him. “I’m sorry, I’m ranting so much about it.”

“N-No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he said. You gave him a shy laugh. “What made you come to Tokyo?”

“I just knew that I needed to go to Tokyo. I paid off the loans that my father owed and refused to pay, quit my job at the cafe, signed up to Todai, and got a job with Hiromi-kun before I left. I have a purpose here. I just know it.”

“If you need help, I’m willing to help.” You blushed again.

“I-I appreciate it, Nanami-san. But I should be okay.” He nodded in response. His mind was still swirling with the fact that you were right here next to him. It felt both like a dream yet a nightmare. You didn’t know him. You forgot about him.

“At least let me drive you back to your place,” he said.

“I live close by, Nanami-san.” It frustrated him, feeling useless as usual. “But, I would love one! I am pretty tired. Thank you so much.”

The car ride was quiet but you liked the silence. It felt comforting. You gave him the quick directions to your apartment building. You felt hesitant once he parked at the front. He felt compelling. It was like your body had a mind of its own that you couldn’t leave his side. Your heart was racing.

“Is everything okay?” he asked worriedly. You nodded.

“It’s just…I—Come over for dinner? Since you drove me home, it’s the least I can do. If you have the time, of course. Maybe a rain check on it? You’re a busy man and all,” you blabbered. You blushed and felt very flustered from your sudden request. You shyly stared at your lap as you rotated the ring on your finger.

“We’ll do a raincheck,” he replied softly. “I want to try that Alfredo dish you’re planning to make.” You looked at him with wide eyes. A smile appeared on your face and you nodded.

“Yeah! I can do that! I-I’ll see you soon, Nanami-san!”

You grabbed your bags from the back. With one last wave, you entered the building. He waited until he couldn’t see your figure. You were safe. You were okay. And for that, he can rest easy for now. Immediately, he pulled his phone out. He dialed Haibara’s number.

“I need hospital information from her five years ago,” Nanami ordered.

“Yes boss. Geto-san sent you the files of the best candidates, as well.”

“Perfect. By the way, you guys don’t have to search for her.”

“Oh? Why not?” Haibara heard a soft chuckle from his end.

“I found her.”

“Kento! That’s great news!”

“It is but…she doesn’t remember me,” Nanami confessed. “She was involved in the car accident with her father. She admitted to memory loss.” He heard a sigh from his friend.

“Alright boss. I’ll get on it after dinner if that’s alright.”

“Of course. There’s no rush.” Nanami went through the files. A certain name popped up that caught his attention. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nanami immediately dialed the number. At the same time, he watched a woman with long brunette hair, straight navy blue slacks, a blue turtle neck, and low heeled shoes stop at the front entrance.

“Nanami Kento of 7:3 Security. May I speak to Ieiri Shoko?” He mentally chuckled to see the shock on the woman’s face.

“This is her,” she said a little too quickly and excitedly.

“I would like to offer you a job at the company. You will be receiving full benefits by the time you start working. Vacation and sick time is fixed and resets every year—-“

“I would love to accept the offer, Nanami-san!” Nanami mentally chuckled.

“Perfect. You can call or text me back from this number. I will send you onboarding paperwork through email and you can email everything back to along with questions that pop up to mind.”

“Y-Yes, sir! Thank you so much! I promise you, I will not disappoint you!” Nanami softly chuckled.

“Alright. Have a goodnight, Ieiri-san.”

Shoko immediately dialed a number on her phone. The sound of your name escaped her lips rather loudly before she entered the building. Nanami smiled. Did he become biased? He didn’t care at this point.

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #nanami kento #nanami jjk #nanami fanfic #nanami fluff #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami

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disneymbti · 2 months

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Can you do the MBTI, Big 3, and Moral Alignment of Ratatouille characters?

Hi there, sweetie! I really hope you like this a lot!

Alfredo Linguini's MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: INFP [The Mediator]

INFPs value time alone or with very small groups and can often feel exhausted after spending time with large groups of people.

They tend to focus on the big picture and don’t get lost on the smaller details. They have strong intuitions and often follow their gut instincts.

Mediators tend to prioritize emotion and make decisions that feel right. They are very diplomatic and can easily understand others emotions.

They are very flexible in their schedules. INFPs like to keep their options open and tend to be more spontaneous.

Big Three: Taurus Sun, Pisces Moon and Cancer Rising

Taurus Sun: The Bull tends to be drawn to a creative, indulgent lifestyle — and we wouldn’t expect anything less from a Venus ruled sign. They're also thought to have a stubborn, loyal and grounded personality.

Pisces Moon: Pisces Moons are hyper-attuned to the needs and emotions of others. They're likely to predict what's on your mind before you even say it.

Cancer Rising: Cancer ascendants tend to wear their hearts on their sleeves and take care of those they love.

Enneagram Type: 6w7 [The Confidant]

Basic Fear: Six wing sevens’ fear losing their support system. This may be expressed through self-deprecating humor, in which they seek affirmation and assurance from other people.

Basic Desire: Their basic desire is to feel safe and supported. They show this by being loving and supportive to others. They honor their commitments and are very loyal to their friends.

Like other sixes, Confidants defend themselves by projecting their feelings, which may lead them to misunderstanding themselves and their relationships.

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good [The Benevolent]

These characters seek to do good, but are flexible in how they achieve it, valuing both order and freedom.

Remy's MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: ISFP [The Adventurer]

ISFP types need plenty of personal space. Though they enjoy building connections with people, they need alone time to think and recharge.

They are very observant, especially focusing on the details more than the overall view. They live in the present and tend to base decisions on what they can see right now.

Adventurers also prioritize emotion when making decisions. They prefer to follow what feels right.

They don’t like schedules, but instead prefer to keep their options open. They are adaptable, spontaneous, and like to challenge the need for strict rules.

Big Three: Virgo Sun, Capricorn Moon and Taurus Rising

Virgo Sun: Governed by communication planet Mercury, Virgos are the thinkers of the zodiac. Virgos process information with diligence and use facts to solve problems.

Capricorn Moon: The Capricorn Moon is reflective and contemplative, working to build a better foundation with those they care about.

Taurus Rising: Those with Taurus risings exude grace and sophistication, and handle business with a sweet disposition.

Enneagram Type: 4w3 [The Enthusiast]

Basic Fear: Four wing threes’ deepest fear is that they have no significance in the world. They tend to express this by frequently distinguishing themselves from the rest of the world.

Basic Desire: They desire uniqueness and personal identity. They long to be authentically different, which may lead them to intense bouts of creativity and self-expression.

Enthusiasts may defend themselves by unconsciously adapting characteristics of others to seem more authentic.

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good [The Rebel]

These characters value freedom and kindness, often challenging laws and order to achieve just outcomes.

Colette Tatou's MBTI Type, Big Three, Enneagram Type and Moral Alignment

MBTI Type: ESTJ [The Executive]

ESTJ types are very high energy. They’d rather spend their time with other people than alone.

They tend to pay more attention to the details of a situation. They make decisions based on what they see right now.

Executives base their decisions on what makes sense, rather than what feels right. They listen to their head, not their heart.

They are responsible and like to plan ahead. They hold themselves accountable by making lists and following set processes and rules.

Big Three: Capricorn Sun, Aries Moon and Virgo Rising

Capricorn Sun: Capricorn is ruled by authoritative Saturn, which is why they tend to work hard toward advancing themselves in earthly matters.

Aries Moon: Lunar Aries are known to be emotionally responsive and impulsive at times, as they lead with fiery passions over than logic or reason.

Virgo Rising: Virgo ascendants are the fact-finders and checkers of the zodiac. They are fair-minded and slow to anger.

Enneagram Type: 1w2 [The Activist]

Basic Fear: People who are type one with a two wing generally have a basic fear of being immoral and making impure choices. They avoid this by making a conscious effort to make ethical choices.

Basic Desire: They also have a natural desire to be upstanding and humane. They try to fight for the rights of those less fortunate and love being hands-on in making a difference by volunteering in their community.

Activists tend to respond to negativity by redirecting their emotions in order to gain a sense of control. In type ones with two wings, this may lead to sudden outbursts or breaking points, as they work through their emotions more externally.

Moral Alignment: Lawful Good [The Crusader]

These are characters who believe in truth, honor and order. They always strive to do the right thing, even at a great personal cost.

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outsideratheart · 2 years

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10 Mistletoe with olga carmona

A/N: Day eleven of the Christmas advent calendar. Sorry it’s late.

You may be a professional football player but first and foremost you were a fan. Whilst you couldn't watch the El Classico due to playing for Barcelona, you could watch the El Derbi. It's how you found yourself in the Spanish capital, in the stands watching two of your rivals and supporting your girlfriend, only the rest of the world didn't know about the latter.

Thankfully, the drop in temperature allowed your visit to Estadio Alfredo Di Stefano to remain under the radar. The first half comes and goes and you are yet to be spotted. It allows your plans to surprise Olga after the game that much easier.

When Athenea scores in the 85th minute, winning the game, she runs towards the bench to celebrate with the entire team. It is then when she sees you. The confusion on her face in obvious but it only lasts a few seconds as she is needed back in her position.

Not knowing your intentions, the goal scorer makes her way over to you at full time.

"What are you doing here? Come down onto the pitch" She shouts a security guard over so that they can give you access.

Deep down you know it isn’t m a good idea. A Barcelona player seen on the pitch after a El Derbi, the optics wouldn’t be good and it would only cause you problems.

"It's better if I don't I -"

"I hope there is a Olga shirt under that jacket?" your girlfriend jokes knowing full well that you would rather die than be seen in a Madrid shirt.

"Not a chance. I'm a culer born and bred, you know that"

"I know" Olga tells you.

It was a conversation you have had before. She had lost count the amount of times she tried and failed to get you in white and gold.

"Meet me by the changing rooms" She tells you.

This wasn't the first time you had come to Madrid to watch her play, nor was it the first time you’d be meeting her near the changing rooms but it would be the first time anybody would know about it.

"First you come to our game, now you are coming to our changing room. What, are dating one of my team mates?" Athenea asks.

You choke on air at the question having felt like you have been caught.

"A Barcelona player and Real Madrid player dating. It would be like football's Romeo and Juliet" Olga shoves her team mate towards the tunnel as a way to end the questioning.

"I'll meet you down there" Olga shouts as she leaves the field.

Spotting a familiar security guard, you ask her to let through the restricted access door.

"Have a lovely Christmas Y/N" the guard shouts to you whilst you make your way down the hallway.

"You too" you shout back.

When you get to the home team’s locker room you wait outside for Olga. You cannot help but look through social media to see if any fans spotted you at the game, luckily they didn't.

You look up just in time to see Olga walk out.

"Hello you" you pull her into your arms.

The hug lasts a little longer than it normal would in this setting but you hadn’t seen her in a few weeks and although you hated to admit it, distance does make the heart grow fonder.

"People could see us" Olga whispers into your shoulder.

"We are just hugging. Now if I were to do this" you cup her cheeks, quickly stealing a kiss "this could cause questions"

"Well then it's a good job we are just hugging" Olga pulls away.

As luck would have it several Madrid players choose this moment to leave their locker rooms.

You say hi to some of your national team mates who play for Atletico, congratulating them on a good game despite the scoreline.

"You're still here?" Athenea asks you.

"Of course she is, Olga is still here" Esther says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

Olga and yourself are joined by a few others as you leave the stadium.

As you walk, your hand finds its way to the small of Olga's back. With each step you hand gets lower and lower.

"Y/N" Olga subtly warns you.

You loved moments like this. The adrenaline that ran though your body at the thought of someone seeing you. There were several close calls at national camp but you never got caught. It almost became a game between the two of you. How far can you go without one of your team mates catching you.

"Tell me to stop and I will" you taunt your girlfriend.

Much to your surprise she stops in her tracks making you walk straight in the back of her. When she turns to face you, you very close.

Olga is about to say something but she is cut of by her team mates giggling and mumbling amongst themselves.

"Look up" Misa tells you.

When you do you you see a bunch of mistletoe hanging from the doorframe.

"Kiss" Athenea says rather giddily.

This could be the ultimate act. You could kiss your girlfriend with everyone watching. You knew what you wanted to do but you didn't know if Olga was thinking the same thing but then you see Olga cautiously nodding her head.

You lean down, your lips touch her in a still kiss. You are hungry for more but you know now isn't the time nor the place. Olga hands sit comfortably on your waist and she uses them to pull you close only you pull away slightly.

"What are you doing?"

"Having fun" it is now Olga who closes the gap and initiates the second kiss. This one is much more passionate than the first.

When you pull apart all eyes are on you and in a very rare occasion, you are at a loss for words.

“What was that?” Athenea asks knowing that kiss wasn’t one between friends now matter how Spanish you are.

“There is mistletoe” Olga nonchalantly says.

Questions get thrown at you from every direction and it feels line you are getting interrogated.

This isn’t how you planned on spending your night and clearly Olga is thinking the same thing because she grabs your hands and pulls you out of the door.

“Merry Christmas everyone” you sing as you all but run out of the stadium.

#Christmas ficlet #woso x reader #Olga Carmona x reader #Real Madrid femenino x reader #espwnt x reader

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baizhuswifey · 4 months

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Baizhu sugar daddy fanfic

A little description

So lately you've been on whatever the genshin version of tender is and you meet the man of your dreams he's tall, he's handsome, he's gorgeous, he's polite, he's rich, he's kind,and he's a DOCTOR.say less am I right he's the most awesome amazing man you have ever seen. You guys schedule a day all that nice stuff,he ends up getting you both a reservation to this really really nice restaurant it's nice and stuff but it's for them RICH RICH PEOPLE.you don't even know if you got the right type clothes for it.spending half your pay check just for a new outfit and some jewelry.anyways into the fanfic

*you get a call from your date saying he's outside your house to pick you up for your date you expect to see a random old Toyota and him dressed casually......you were wrong you step out the house and he said "sorry this is the most normal looking I have" BRO PULLED UP WITH A WHOLE LAMBORGHINI LIKE ITS NORMAL "uhm...*gulp* that's totally I guess" you manage to get out of your mouth before you break down in tears begging him to marry you...."you look gorgeous tonight may I say that outfit you have certainly fits you" he says grabbing your wrist kissing your hand "also may I say whatever perfume you are wearing smells very nice, I pick the write person to go on a date with, am I right???" He says to you jokingly "thank you you're very nice" you say back snickering a little knowing it came right out of the 50 percent off basket from bath and body works or maybe stolen from your schools lost and found bucket???"anyways I booked us a nice reservation at this really nice hotel now it isn't five star but it is very nice please forgive me" he loudly whispers "it's okay I would've been fine if you took me to a chick fila and I would have loved it" you thought as you quietly and awkwardly giggled......"hehe...it's okay I guess" you say

"no really I wanted to take you to the best of the best restaurant but all I could find that wasn't fully booked"

Time skip

"here's the restaurant where you can order anything you would like cheesecake wine steak,whatever you please" he says,gently holding your hand. "Please help yourself..." You brighten up slightly "but I would prefer we get desert together somewhere else perhaps" immediately you get to ordering "I want a medium well steak with a side of broccoli cheese and rice casserole extra cheese then I want a blah blah blah blah blah" and you went on and on and on

Your food finally gets here and you start shoving your mouth full "damn dear you can put it down" he whispers as he quietly eats his chicken Alfredo while watching you eat ,mesmerized at how fast and how much you can eat..."it's like you don't feed yourself at home"........munch munch much "oh yea I'm broke and I eat like 99 cent ramen for breakfast lunch and dinner" you say chowing down on what you could say was the best meal of your life "slow down the foods not going anywhere"he says grabbing a napkin and wiping your chin and lips "pretty people like you shouldn't eat so..... roughly.."you gently look up at him admiring his pretty amber eyes

I'll write. Chapter when I'm not such a busy bee

(so so sorry guys it took me like a week as said I'm a busy bee with bad grades)

Also taking fanfic ideas of baizhu and I will try to write on time this time😭😭

#baizhu

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arctosv · 10 months

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Hauntober Prompt 15: Moonlight

Amaizing

“Dude, I’m pretty sure we’re lost, we can just take a shortcut and leave Trev.” Alfredo sighed as he followed his friend around a corner. Dried up stalks crunching under their shoes as they continued forward.

“Listen, I know what I’m doing Alfredo, I’m not going to let a corn maze beat me.” Trevor declared, trying to pump up his companion into finishing their journey. “Plus we paid fifteen dollars to enter this maze and get a t-shirt at the end and I’m not-I mean we’re not leaving here empty handed.”

Alfredo just groaned in response and threw up his hands in defeat, “Fine, but you’re buying me dessert from Gourdough’s if you can’t find the exit.”

“Deal!” Trevor agreed, sticking out his hand for the two to shake on it. Once done the pair marched forward along the winding paths, Trevor leading the way and choosing which turns to take. Fallen corn stalks crunched under their shoes as they walked while the moon above helped illuminate their route. Sounds of laughter and music grew louder as the two neared the unseen exit.

“I’ll be damned, you didn’t lead us in circles for a few hours like I thought you would.” Alfredo chuckled, clapping his friend on the back as they saw the two torches marking the exit farther off.

“Oh ye of little faith, I told you we would find the exit…” Trevor started as they rounded the corner and the path ended with a wall of stalks in the way. “Well, that’s not ideal.”

“Alright, instead of backtracking for thirty minutes, why don’t we just slip through these stalks to the path just on the other side. I can barely see it with the moonlight, but I know it’s right there.” Alfredo suggested, just wanting to eat some food at this point.

Trevor stopped for a moment and pondered their options. They could just take a shortcut and get their shirts and then some food or they could just backtrack and spend another hour lost in a corn maze, one definitely sounded more appealing than the other. “Yup, let’s just cut through the corn and leave. I’m tired, cold, and hungry.” He gave in, ready to finish the maze.

Alfredo raised a finger to his mouth motioning for his friend to be quiet as they huddled close, “More than likely they’ll have someone at the exit waiting for people to leave so they can get their shirt, so we need to be silent or else we might forfeit our chance for free stuff. We’ve spent too much time to be walking away from here empty handed.” He explained as Trevor nodded in agreement thoughtfully.

The two silently ventured into the corn carefully and treaded lightly over the fallen stalks, letting the moonlight guide their way through to the other side. Emerging uncaught they both cheered and raced down the path, rushing out of the exit towards the stationed attendant, stopping to catch their breath as the worker chuckled at the pair.

“Y’all know you were the last pair inside, right? Wasn’t sure when you’d turn up or if we would have to send in a rescue team.” He explained as he handed over the shirts.

“We were going to take as long as we needed to get these shirts.” Trevor explained as he shoved his new shirt inside his bag.

“You know you didn’t have to finish the maze to get it right? It came with your ticket…” The worker trailed off.

AO3 Link

#hauntober #ragehappy #rooster teeth #achievement hunter #trevor collins #alfredo diaz #fanfic

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lucy-shining-star · 10 months

Text

Wasn't there a storm? It's not good idea to hide under tree under storm. ...Although I guess it might have passed? But can they be sure about that already?

Oh Sharon guessed

Oh there still is storm. Yeah tree isn't good idea

Oh Sharon doesn't believe Maggie could lost key interesting

Where did Simon get those flowers from are they also from that boquet ...Also that floor must be cold why Ambar didn't put some slippers or socks

...No Luna storm didn't start exactly when you kissed. Matteo literally found ring cause of lighting. Somehow.

...Nina what you said earlier really didn't sound like 'It was fate'

...That sounds more embrassing than people seeing kissing

Didn't Alfredo hear she was talking with Rey?

Oh she admitted it. Good.

...Was that? Free cotton candy?

I don't think boys consider this serious problem

You know they also could just...meet outside for Roller? Also there are more people here than your group you are not gonna tell that to everyone?

That's funny cause when starting this episode I thought 'It's kinda weird Ricardo is in intro'

...That does kinda sound like you are saying she made a mistake Ramiro

I love that song more when Yam is sining with Ramiro than when she sang solo. ...Also I watched this several times in original on youtube and got guessed to spoken Spanish right after so got surprised by Ramiro talking in Polish

Oh he meant more literally than what I thought he meant

Oh are we gonna see that vloger

Was Maggie aware they are following her

Omg didn't except Sharon in lutteo scene that was jumpscare

#soy luna

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throatcoat · 2 months

Text

//my mother//

i used to feel a lot of pride when people told me i was like my mother. i thought she was so beautiful, like the old movie starlets in noir romantics that filled my adolescence. she would sing, “you are my sunshine” & make us her half-assed version of fettuccine alfredo (that i crave to this day, ragu/rotisserie/1 $noodles). she would mow the lawn & plant the most beautiful gardens where she would spend her afternoons. she would take us to the library. share a pint of ice cream & let us pick out a movie each saturday. she never said no to renting the same sonic video game over & over. she took did my makeup & took pictures just because. she would play with my hair while we sat on the couch during thunderstorms. my mom was strong, the strongest person i knew who had gone through so much, yet she still got through it. it never took her light. she was spunky, wore sundresses even in the winter, & cried over movies about dogs dying. she would tell me the story of how she met my father, how she fell in love with the cowboy. she was the outlaw, the bucking, kicking mare finally caroled and calmed down.

now, i just feel shame over the idea.

because, although i once loved the concept of looking like someone once so angelic, now all i see is something laying low in the darkest corner of the bedroom. eyes all red & glowing.

when i am told i am like my mother, i feel a rage boil over.

because now my mother is monster, and the idea of being anything like that means i am also a monster.

here is something that i still struggle with accepting:

the person i once loved & knew is dead & gone & replaced with something that sort of resembles the shell.

she cocooned & emerged a megalopyge opercularis.

the idea is the sensation of a chemical burn on my left arm, corrosion of my skin like the same aisles the pigs reside in.

looking like my mother, the way she smiles & sings, when i slide her old dresses on my mangled skin,

it has led to nothing but reprecussions for a therianthrope i did not choose to resemble the remnants of.

i lost everything.

do you not understand?

the things she took? the things she did? the things i can only speak about in a place where no one will ever piece together who it is on the other end of the telephone?

when i am told i am like my mother, all i hear is the phone call i received on halloween night, my 16th year alive on this earth. the one where she giggled like a little girl. when she said she did something bad & needed to know where i was. when i could hear him laughing beside her.

all i hear is the toilet lid cracking, what it sounds like to put porcelain against her skin as i try to push the door in.

all i hear is the late night phone calls & the moaning down the halls when i found them in my bedroom.

how scared i was when i could not find her with the threats of gunshots ringing down the hall. i looked & looked & called & called & she was too busy in the back of a car i still hate driving. she had no idea that her child could be dead from an angry boy with a gun. that her other was stuck in a hallway full of other little kids.

the laughter on the football field & she was sitting by my father. the boy was above them, looking down.

what the highway sounds like at 7 a.m. as i walked the 2 miles to my classroom.

how no one said a word when i handed in my textbooks & asked for my final transcripts.

how the teachers talked about me in the halls.

how the students laughed at me.

the note in my locker.

how he said he fucked me, too, i was a little slut, too.

the bruises on her body.

going to the gym is a trigger.

when she leaves, i think it will be the night i get the call that she was accidentally successful in whatever stunt she decided to pull out of misguided anger. the idea of picking up pieces of her body. pressing my dads shirt against her wrists. gluing his neck shut. the smell of alcoholics vomit never leaves the nose.

i lost my father for an entire spring, summer, fall, & a winter. multi-years & having to move across the state, it might as well have been a new country.

when i am told i am like my mother, all i hear is her denial.

all i hear is her excuses.

the way her hands felt against my face & how she can not even remember doing it in the first place.

picking up my clothing from the ground as she threw it.

the police radio transcripts where she used the same scripts on me that she did with my father.

my mother became cold.

empty.

mean.

hating.

spitting.

biting.

i am not like my mother.

i choose warmth.

i choose to make others feel safety.

when i see a teenager, i see a child, i see a baby that needs protecting.

i believe people.

i listen.

i refused to become my situation. i fight it continuously.

i am the only one who acknowledges the situation,

i wish others did, too,

because now i no longer ever feel real.

there is a story i am too afraid to tell the world, & i do not understand why i still want to protect her.

but please.

do not tell me that i am like my mother.

you have never met the monster that hides in the hallways.

i may be the scape goat.

but i am not my fucking mother.

#coat the throat

0 notes

saturniiinae · 5 months

Text

//my mother//

i used to feel a lot of pride when people told me i was like my mother. i thought she was so beautiful, like the old movie starlets in noir romantics that filled my adolescence. she would sing, "you are my sunshine" & make us her half-assed version of fettuccine alfredo (that i crave to this day, ragu/rotisserie/1 $noodles). she would mow the lawn & plant the most beautiful gardens where she would spend her afternoons. she would take us to the library. share a pint of ice cream & let us pick out a movie each saturday. she never said no to renting the same sonic video game over & over. she took did my makeup & took pictures just because. she would play with my hair while we sat on the couch during thunderstorms. my mom was strong, the strongest person i knew who had gone through so much, yet she still got through it. it never took her light. she was spunky, wore sundresses even in the winter, & cried over movies about dogs dying. she would tell me the story of how she met my father, how she fell in love with the cowboy. she was the outlaw, the bucking, kicking mare finally caroled and calmed down.

now, i just feel shame over the idea.

because, although i once loved the concept of looking like someone once so angelic, now all i see is something laying low in the darkest corner of the bedroom. eyes all red & glowing.

when i am told i am like my mother, i feel a rage boil over.

because now my mother is monster, and the idea of being anything like that means i am also a monster.

here is something that i still struggle with accepting:

the person i once loved & knew is dead & gone & replaced with something that sort of resembles the shell.

she cocooned & emerged a megalopyge opercularis.

the idea is the sensation of a chemical burn on my left arm, corrosion of my skin like the same aisles the pigs reside in.

looking like my mother, the way she smiles & sings, when i slide her old dresses on my mangled skin,

it has led to nothing but reprecussions for a therianthrope i did not choose to resemble the remnants of.

i lost everything.

do you not understand?

the things she took? the things she did? the things i can only speak about in a place where no one will ever piece together who it is on the other end of the telephone?

all i hear is the toilet lid cracking, what it sounds like to put porcelain against her skin as i try to push the door in.

all i hear is the late night phone calls & the moaning down the halls when i found them in my bedroom.

the laughter on the football field & she was sitting by my father. the boy was above them, looking down.

what the highway sounds like at 7 a.m. as i walked the 2 miles to my classroom.

how no one said a word when i handed in my textbooks & asked for my final transcripts.

how the teachers talked about me in the halls.

how the students laughed at me.

the note in my locker.

how he said he fucked me, too, i was a little slut, too.

the bruises on her body.

going to the gym is a trigger.

i lost my father for an entire spring, summer, fall, & a winter. multi-years & having to move across the state, it might as well have been a new country.

when i am told i am like my mother, all i hear is her denial.

all i hear is her excuses.

the way her hands felt against my face & how she can not even remember doing it in the first place.

picking up my clothing from the ground as she threw it.

the police radio transcripts where she used the same scripts on me that she did with my father.

my mother became cold.

empty.

mean.

hating.

spitting.

biting.

i am not like my mother.

i choose warmth.

i choose to make others feel safety.

when i see a teenager, i see a child, i see a baby that needs protecting.

i believe people.

i listen.

i refused to become my situation. i fight it continuously.

i am the only one who acknowledges the situation,

i wish others did, too,

because now i no longer ever feel real.

there is a story i am too afraid to tell the world, & i do not understand why i still want to protect her.

but please.

do not tell me that i am like my mother.

you have never met the monster that hides in the hallways.

i may be the scape goat.

but i am not my fucking mother.

#dreamjournal.txt

0 notes

andihavelovedyoubeautifully · 2 years

Text

“i have everything i need.”

At about 2pm today, I was fixated on the fact that I was having a really rough November.

I was struggling at work because my boss, who I respect and admire, has been excluding me from conversations that I desperately wanted to be in, and promoted two people who have been pointedly ignoring my input and making it clear that my opinion doesn’t matter. I felt like I was getting shoved to the side and wasn’t actually part of the team anymore. I went from loving my job one second to despising it the next.

I was struggling with my relationship, lying awake at night wondering if we even had the potential to get married and have kids together, wondering why it bothered me that my partner gained weight when I know that love should be unconditional, wondering if we were ever going to be set financially or if it was always going to be a struggle to keep up with the bills.

I was struggling with my body image, barely one week into my personal training program as if 15 pounds would melt off my body in 7 days.

I was missing my mom and wishing she was there to give me advice and hold me as I cried.

On September 2nd, the woman I have always looked up to as a second mom got into a life-altering car accident. The friend sitting next to her died instantly, and she barely made it out alive. It had been two months and I was finally going out to her cabin to visit her. I couldn’t wait. Finally, something good.

I walked into her home and it was warm and everything smelled amazing. She cooked me chicken alfredo and the most delicious berry crisp I have ever eaten. She wrote “Happy Autumn Aubrey” in beautiful cursive on her chalkboard just outside the front door. I had never felt as warm and as safe as I did in her home tonight.

She told me about the accident, about the traumatic buried memory of seeing her friend next to her and knowing she hadn’t made it. About the pain of broken ribs and vertebrae, how her aorta had torn, how her colon and intestines had to be reassembled, the discomfort of the ventilator, and waking up to her daughter’s hand on her forehead saying “Mom, dad’s okay. Dad’s okay.”

My “problems” suddenly became so insignificant, sitting across from this beautiful, courageous, warrior of a woman. This woman who had gone out of her way to support and champion me. This woman who I loved so deeply, and had almost lost.

I watched her cry as she recounted the accident and the memory of her friend. She looked at me, and she said: “I want you to know something. Here’s what I have realized throughout this journey: I have everything I need. Remember that.”

I have a roof over my head, a job that pays me well, a dog that tap-dances every time I walk through the door, and a partner who loves me more than I have ever been loved before. I have a family that loves me and friends I can call. And I still have her.

Somehow, at 2:00 today, that didn’t feel like enough. I didn’t want to leave the warmth of that tiny little cabin because it was the first time I felt free and unburdened. The first time I didn’t even think about checking my phone for over 4 hours. The first time I stopped comparing my life to what I thought it should be, and started appreciating it for what it was.

When I got home, my boyfriend was fast asleep in bed. I crawled into his arms and he held me and kissed me, still half-asleep. I told him I loved him and he whispered it back.

I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, or how I’m going to feel. But I know one thing for certain.

I have everything I need.

#personal

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northbndtrain · 6 years

Photo

Only we and a few staff members know what happened with the babies. Not a word will leave this hotel. Our good name won't be tarnished.

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smallestapplin · 2 years

Note

Thoughts on Grimsley with a reader who, upon challenging him (elite four or not up to you), offers him a bet that the loser makes the winner a nice dinner someday? It's mostly joking, only a teeny tiny bit serious lol. I was watching a live stream the other day where the stakes of losing was that, and I thought it was very cute!

Also wanted to tack on that I love your writing and characterizations a whole lot!! Please have a wonderful day! Also if you have no insp for filling this request then that's totally chill! Thank you for your time ( ˊᵕˋ )/♡

I love you and will do anything for you, you sweet babby.

I made this platonic! If that’s okay.

Grimsley isn’t sure what to make of this. He’s known you for a while, since he was in the elite four back in Unova.

You two use to battle quite a bit, yet here you stood, ready to battle like old times.

“Wanna make a bet?”

His cyan eyes light up at the mentions of turning this into a game.

“Oh? What are the stakes?”

You smile, it might be a while before you see him again, with him going off to Alola soon.

“Loser makes the winner a nice dinner someday.”

You can see his eyes roll from across the field. He should’ve known, you were always the softer type.

“Well I’m not one to back down a challenge. Let’s go!”

The battle was long but stayed right on time. He couldn’t miss his flight. Pokémon fainting left and right and when the smoke settles, you had won.

“It seems time is short. I may have lost but you and your Pokémon shiny brilliantly.”

Your smile makes one appear on his own face.

“Alright fine, I’ll make you something someday, frozen pizza sound good?”

The former elite four member laughs at your playful shove. But soon silence took over as you two stared at the plane he’d be leaving on.

He feels your hand grip his bicep, he knows you don’t want him leaving but he needs to do this.

“I don’t expect you to message me everyday but…can you at least do it enough so I know you’re not dead?”

Your voice waivers a bit and your grip tenses a little.

“Of course, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

With a hug and a heartfelt goodbye, he was gone.

He’d give you updates on his flight and his temporary residence. The text messages would happen at minimum once a week. Grimsley got busy with the battle tower and gambling.

Which you didn’t mind, you were just happy to hear from him at all.

You hadn’t heard from him in two weeks and you were getting concerned. He maybe a jerk but he has standards, he never drop you without a warning, at least you think.

“Hey what food do you like again?- stop screaming it’s just me. Anyways, I was thinking spaghetti or Alfredo cause that’s all I got.”

Your scream was short lived when you realize it’s just Grimsley who marched through your door, dropping his bags to the ground and heading right for your kitchen.

“I’m not going to lie to you, I don’t know how to cook, so this is going to be an experience for both of us unless I order us take out.”

Grimsley walks around your kitchen, opening cabinet doors and looking to see what you have, moving as if you aren’t wrapped around his waist with your face buried in his back.

“I missed you, and you didn’t even tell me you’d be baaaack.”

“I wanted to make it a surprise, now either help me or we are ordering take out.”

He can feel slight wetness on his back, he knew you were just overwhelmed and happy to see him again.

In fact he thought it was cute, not like he’d ever tell you though.

#pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #pokémon #anon #pokemon fluff #pokemon fanfic #pokemon grimsley x reader #platonically #pokemon grimsley

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kirschteinsj · 4 years

Text

Pinky Promises

Nanami x fem! reader

Warnings: nothing too much! maybe language but overall just a bunch of fluff and lovey dovey stuff

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Domestic Nanami and reader, just thinking about how much they love each other. sappy and cute stuff.

A/N: Hi! ^_^ Second time posting, I’ve had this one shot saved for a bit now! finally posting it lolz. I've noticed a lot of people have written domestic Nanami pics or drawn art, very glad society as a whole has this perception of him. it truly heals the soul I think. anyway, I hope u like this and sorry if there’s any grammar errors I wasnt able to catch U_U im thinking of doing a hc post next.... unsure hm, we’ll see ^_^!!

“I’m hooooome.” He says loudly as he steps through the apartment door, setting his briefcase down and taking off his beige coat. Putting down the grand kitchen knife she was using to chop up spinach, she rushed to the door with a smile and engulfed the tall blonde into a tight hug, saying hello. She took a deep breath, inhaling the soft scent of his cologne, the smell of something sour and musty soon taking over. Her face scrunched up and she let out a giggle.

“Oh god, Nanami, you stink, what did you go against today?”

“Nothing too bad. Just a grade 3,” He sighed “A smelly grade 3.” He sounded disappointed, probably because he knew he stunk too. Though the smell was horrendous, she still remained in his arms and he still held on just as tight.

“Are you tired? I was thinking of making dinner with you tonight but if you’re too tired I can-”

“No no. I’m fine. Just let me wash up and I’ll help out.”

“You sure?” She asked looking up towards him, questioning once more to reassure. He looked down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m sure, dear.”

While he showers upstairs, she gets back to readying the ingredients so they could begin cooking their masterpiece as soon as possible. Tonight she had chosen chicken alfredo with a tossed salad; One could say it was her favourite, but saying that would imply that she would eat it when cooked and served by whomever. But to her, she would only eat it when it was him who had made it for her.

Y/n adored him. He adored her. To her, he was her light. She could simply not imagine life without him, not after he had come in and changed her in such a way. She never in a million years would have thought to be so in love with someone. To have known someone who cared enough to hear all about her day or listen to all her tangents, whether they made sense or not. Who listened to her talk forever about anything just so he could see the faint glow of passion in her eyes. Someone who remembered the small details in regards to the things she loved and the things she despised; Like how she hated the feeling of peanut butter on her fingers and how she absolutely admired the scent of fresh pages in a new book. Sometimes, she felt undeserving of him.

He admired her like no other. Never did he believe he’d be capable of opening up to anyone in such a way, at least not until she walked into his life. He could write a million lists, all full of everything he loved about her. The way she smiled cheekily at him after a witty remark, how she'd give every hug as if it was the last, the way she was oh so patient with him. It took him time to become vulnerable in the slightest, he just didn’t know how to do so without burdening her. She knew his job was hard, he’d told her. But rather than running away like he expected, she stayed with him right by his side. She refused to leave him over that. If anything, it made her want to stay more since she felt the need to be there for him. It felt like a punch to the gut but a good one. “So, is this love?” He had asked himself then. Nanami had someone who brought out the much more joyful side to him. At the end of the day, he knew he’d walk through the front door only to see her, arms wide open and with a big smile offering a cozy hug. She was his home. Sometimes, he felt undeserving of her.

Putting the final piece of broccoli into the container, she tidies any clutter and went back to their shared bedroom. Sinking into the bed and falling on it with a plush thump, she lets out a deep sigh mixed with some sort of a groan. She herself was exhausted from work too to say the least. She didn’t deal with curses or anything like that, but she did teach a class of 9 year olds which one could consider just as frustrating. Yawning, she checks her phone to read the time: 6:15 PM. Nanami hadn’t been in the shower for too long, a small nap wouldn’t hurt. Quickly, she settled for a little 30 minute nap. That way, she could get up soon enough to help him out in the kitchen and not abandon him to do everything on his own. She turns her phone off and slowly, her eyes shut.

…

Y/n slowly opens her eyes and notices a grey throw blanket placed on her, something that she doesn’t recall going to bed with earlier. “Must’ve been Nanami.” Grabbing her phone, she turns the screen on, wincing at the incredible blue light piercing into her skull. “Fuck.” she mumbles. Once her eyes adjust, she glances back at the screen for the time: 7:30.

“FUCK,” she says, voice croaking “I overslept.” With the speed of light, she leaves bed and runs down the hall to the bathroom to freshen up. She soon makes her way over to the kitchen silently, slightly ashamed and guilty. Y/n mumbles a whine with a frown, “He’s probably done making things now. I could have helped.”

The kitchen is filled with the delicate scents of sauces, cheese and herbs. She watches him from the door frame, admiring her boyfriend. He stood in front of the stove mixing at the sauce for the alfredo, which scent alone made her mouth water. Nanami seems to be in his own world, as he stands humming to himself softly, stirring the pot of sauce and adding in the broccoli and spinach, not seeming to notice y/n. With a final stir, he carefully sets the lid and turns to rinse his hands. Her gaze sits upon his figure, how his grey oversized shirt slightly clings to his shoulders and loosens as it goes down his body. Looking down, she noticed the bright red christmas pyjamas he had on, the ones with adorable little reindeers all over them. Grinning, she remembers how she had bought those for him. She purchased a matching set for the two of them and insisted on wearing them all day on Christmas last year. Nanami had responded to the idea with a stern “No” which left y/n in shambles. She didn’t expect him to agree, but hey, a girl can dream. However, on Christmas day, lo and behold, she had woken up to find Nanami sitting on the couch, watching the news with his reindeer PJs on. Immediately, she had attacked him with hugs and kisses and all Nanami did was sit there and accept them, secretly loving it the whole time.

A deep voice throws her out of her thoughts. “You know, it’s rude to stare, right?”

Y/n chuckles quietly and makes her way over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, snuggling into his back.

“I like to stare at you, you’re cute,” she breathes in his scent once again, “ah, you smell so much better now. Like the nami I know.”

“I am not cute. I am a grown man.”

“C’mon, you can’t possibly be saying that right now. Not while you’re wearing these pants.” She coos, gently patting his butt. He goes silent, refusing to rebuttal knowing that he’s lost. He leans against the counter, his front facing her. Though he didn’t say anything, y/n sees this as an open invite to his arms. The rope of his arms finds her waist this time, her arms in an embrace around his neck.

“Whatever, tell me, how was your day, hm?” He posed, changing the subject.

“Same old, yenno. The kids and I had a discussion today about drugs and safety. It was cute, hearing them rat out their neighbours for smoking cigs and talk about how yucky they thought alcohol is. It was… sweet. How was work for you, hon?”

“Shit.” He retorts, closing his eyes, “Work is shit.”

“Oh come ON, I’m sure it’s not always that bad, right? Say, how’s your friend doing, you know, the one who kinda looks like one of my makeup brushes! Isn’t he good company?”

“Yeah, if good company means having to deal with a nuisance to society on a daily basis then by all means, yes, Gojo is wonderful company.” He joked, loosening his grip on her and making his way over to the stove to check on his sauce. She follows, opening the first drawer and pulling out a silver spoon, “You’re so mean sometimes. I think he’s a great guy to be around! I met him once, such a flirt.”

He teases calmly, “If you love him so much, why don’t you get with him?”

Taking her spoon, she lowers it into the pot and brings it back up to her face, blowing on it carefully before she puts it to her lips to taste. “Hmm, I would. But I don’t think he’s as big as you. I’ll have to pass.” She smirked, putting the spoon into her mouth as he watched and sighed in disappointment.

He glares,“God, you’re something else.”

“I’m just kidding, babe.” Bringing her spoon down for another taste. He swats at her hand and she retreats it with a whine. “Don’t do that. You’ve tried it already, and will again when we get to eat.” He scolded tenderly, “Plus, you shouldn’t be given these privileges anyway. It’s not like you helped out or anything.” He smiled, teasing her.

“Nanamiiii, I’m sorry,” she whines, half laughing, “I promise, I was going to help! I just got a little bit sleepy and sort of lost track of time…” He turned over to her and lifted her face with a finger under her chin. Laughing, he delicately caresses her cheek, tapping it admirably with a curled finger. The blonde chuckles and looks her in the eyes, “I’m just joking with you, love. I know you’ve been tired lately, I can tell. Why haven’t you been resting?”

Her smile falls and she sighs. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist and brought him into her, hiding her face into his chest. It was true, she was exhausted but she didn’t deem it to be anything so serious. Work was just heavy this past week from having to grade her students’ work in time for report cards. All she wanted was the best for her kids and was finding ways to get the kids out of their comfort zones enough to do well in class. That reminded her, Nanami also mentioned having a student of his own.

She takes her face out of his chest and glances upwards. “It’s just this week of work, I promise I’ll be back to normal soon. I’ve just been busy with lesson plans and activities, yenno. Anyway, speaking of students, how’s the one you’ve been assigned to?” She posed in a soft tone. Half smiling, he turned around to add the strained pasta to the sauce, scattering it into the pot.

“He’s special. Quite lively. And cheerful. He reminds me of you sometimes,” his voice strains as he stretches to grab the bowl of cooked chicken to finally add into the pot, finishing the meal, “He’s got potential.” Y/n beamed with happiness. Nanami really seemed to like this kid and if he thought you had potential, then it sure as hell meant you had it.

She lets out a squeal, “EEEEEEK!!! That sounds amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Nanami suppressed a laugh and rolled his eyes, “It’s not that-”

“This calls for a drink, don’t you think?” She babbled with excitement, “We should have some wine! Right?”

Grabbing her wrist as she skipped her way over to the bottle, he reminded her, “You have school tomorrow. You always end up having more than needed and struggle to wake up in the morning.” Y/n frowned at his words, to which he noticed and tried to fix, “Tomorrow’s Friday, you can drink plenty tomorrow, hm? I’ll drink with you.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re right. But you have to promise.”

“I promise you ca-”

“No! You have to pinky-promise.” She demanded, pouting as he stuck out her pinky finger.

His heart skips a beat. Was she always this cute? Her angelic eyes stare into his tired ones. Bottom lip poking out, awaiting Nanami’s pinky to interlock with her own. He knew she took pinky-promises very seriously despite her grown age. It was among one of the many petty details that he cherished. Something about this pinky-promise was enough for her to ensure trust onto someone, it made him laugh. Her naivety is what made her so kind hearted, what allowed her to see the best in people. He felt that this naivety is why they’re together to begin with. He didn’t ever think she’d give him a chance. He reminisced of their first few encounters. The way she did her hair back then, the way she dressed, her shy smile and how she’d look at the floor whenever she’d blush. Maybe it was her timid nature that made him fall head over heels for her. Or maybe it was her generosity. Perhaps her beauty. He was unable to simply confine the reasoning for his infatuation with just a few traits. She grew overtime, more comfortable and less shy, she was more confident around him but he knew he could still make her blush so badly that she’d have to hide her face from him. He enjoyed their banter, her company. He felt it was luck. Or maybe it was fate. Who knows. He didn’t want to think so much about it. He wanted to live in the moment, adore her in this present time. In that instance, he felt the strong urge to kiss her. And so he did.

The kiss was short and sweet, yet full of an unfathomable amount of love. It took her aback, she didn’t quite see it coming. She too stood in the present moment, then and there, cherishing the man she loved.

His lips leave hers and he extends the smallest finger on his hand, declaring, “I pinky-promise.” And a ginormous grin washes over her face. In a whisper, she squeals and scoops her arms around his torso, resting her head onto his chest. They stay like this for a while, not too long really, but to them it felt like an eternity being in each other’s affectionate embrace. He goes to speak and she feels the vibrating boom of his voice make his way up from his chest.

“I love you.”

She sighs, “I love you too.”

Turning her head, y/n smoothly gets on her tip toes and clasps her arms around his neck, giving it a tender kiss and attempting to make a trail leading up to his sharp jaw. Catching onto her tactics he laughs, putting his big hand against her face and pushing her back.

“Seriously?” He chuckles, “You couldn’t wait till after dinner? Come on, take out the plates.”

“Wait for what? I was just kissing you! You’re so dramatic, Nami.” She lies, playing innocent. She knew damn well what she was trying to do. She wasn’t going to admit to it though. Taking out the plates and utensils, she readied the table.

…

After dinner and meaningless conversation, the two lovers tidied and headed towards their room. “Do yo wana wah a mohee tomowwow nie?” Y/n proposed from the bathroom as she brushed her teeth. He perks his head up, confused, “Do I want to what?” She spat into the sink and rinsed her mouth, repeating her question.

“I said, do you wanna watch a movie tomorrow night? Like at home? There’s this documentary I saw on Netflix, it looks really good! It’s crime related.”

“That sounds fine with me. Though, that’s only possible if you don’t end up drinking too much. I always have to get you to sleep early when you drink.” He states nonchalantly, nose poked into a thick book. She rolls her eyes and smiles, “I promise I won’t drink all that much.” Shifting his book to the opposing hand, Nanami silently takes his pinky finger and holds it out to y/n. She snickers and reciprocates.

“You’ve now pinky-promised. Don’t break it, y/n.”

“I never do.”

The nightstand lamp illuminates the room with a soft yellow glow. Shadows of objects on the nightstand hang on the walls. Laying in bed on her phone, y/n turns over to Nanami, who was still reading his book. “Nami, come lay next to me, I wanna cuddle. Please?” Her voice faint. He looks down at her and puts his book away immediately. He could use a cuddle too. Bringing himself down, he lays on his back, y/n closing the gap between the two. Their legs intertwine, her arm and head resting on his chest while one of his hands rested on her bum, the other dotingly playing with her hair. Neither of them spoke a word for a while. Until y/n broke the silence.

“So, were there no other pairs of pants you had left to wear or-”

“Please, be quiet.”

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impala1967dwinchester · 3 years

Text

Sam Winchester: Thoughts

*Credit to the gif owner*

Pairing: Sam W. x reader

Pov: Sam

Warnings: Fluff, Sam can hear the readers thoughts, Sam falling in love with the reader, Dean is here to help the plot

Summary: Sam gets cursed after the Dean, Y/n, and Sam hunt a witch. The next morning when he wakes up all he can hear is Y/n thoughts, and he’s slowly start to fall in love with her.

A/N: Using @firefly-graphics Sam Winchester divider for this fic. This fic is sorta based on "What women want" with Mel Gibson. A good ol' Romantic Comedy.

Word Count: 2.3k

Main Masterlist Sams Masterlist

Taglist: @sweetdetectivequeen

A witch hunt couldn't possibly go wrong, right? Especially with the Winchester boys.

"Look lady, sit down before I shoot," Dean shouted, causing Y/n to flinch. Just enough of a flinch that I would be having a conversation with Dean later about no yelling so much.

The witch sat down, but what nobody noticed she was casting a spell under her breath. Dean, Y/n, and I had huddled together trying to figure out what we were going to ask this damn witch.

My back facing the witch. Dean looking over my shoulder looking angrily at the lady. Y/n had her game face on. She sometimes followed us around like lost puppies, but damn was she a fucking awesome hunter.

Sometimes better than Dean and I put together.

When I say that she followed us around like lost puppies I mean she never said what she thought. Dean or I would come up with a plan and she never put input in. Just kinda did what she was told. Reminds me of a younger version of Dean and myself.

Working our asses off for John, all for it to be for nothing. A good little soldier and that was all we were to him.

In the end, Dean just ended up letting the witch go since she hadn't any information. We all pilled back into the impala for the drive back to the bunker.

Y/n fell asleep in the back seat curled into a ball and looking rather peaceful. "Y'know I was thinking lover boy that maybe she could stay permanently with us," Dean said referring to Y/n in the backseat.

I just rolled my eyes before turning to look out the window. The drive was shortened by the fact that at one point my eyes were open and scanning the passing environment.

And the next minute I was dreaming a nice dream. I had a family a beautiful wife standing on our front patio, and watching our daughter and I play with our puppy.

It was nice, it was peaceful. But when I was looking around my dream, I noticed that every face was blank. Well, there goes the normal dream.

The shaking of my body woke me up. "Yo, wake up. Get your shit and go the bed." Dean said, pushing me closer to the passenger side door.

Stumbling out, I walked groggily to the back of the impala and grabbed my bags. Slinging them over my shoulder, I saw Dean try to pull Y/n from the back.

"Sweetheart, we made it home." Dean whispering. His hands falling underneath her knees, carefully picking her up out of the impala. "Open the door would Ya, instead of just standing and staring," Dean said still whispering.

I ran over to the door opening it. "Dude get some sleep, I'll get Y/n settled in, kay," Dean said passing me. Shrugging my shoulders and yawning as I walked to my room.

Stripping down to my boxers I collapsed into bed, loving the coolness of my sheets. Within minutes of my head hitting the pillow, I was out like a light.

Dreaming wasn't something that always happened for me, not since I first started hunting with Dean. But those weren't dreams those were more like nightmares, of people that I couldn't save.

I fell back into the same dream as before, still no faces. But the woman I assumed was my wife as a familiar voice, our daughter was what seemed like she was tops five or six.

Cute little thing, long brown hair like my own, wearing a cute sundress that was blue with green flowers printed on it. ' Dear, are you guys ready for dinner?' the woman asked me. I tried to not stare at the fact that she had no face, so I just hummed. Picking up our daughter.

'Tank you for playing with me daddy!' my daughter said to me bringing her small hands and arms and hugging me around my neck. Besides having no faces everything else seemed normal, my wife's voice seemed all too familiar and it was honestly getting at me. Before I was able to ask her something I was pulled from my dreams.

Waking up was a bitch. My neck was sore, and so were my shoulders. Deciding that today I wouldn't take that mile run, I opted for staying in bed just a bit longer this morning.

Finally getting up when I smelled coffee being made in the kitchen. Grabbing a pair of sweats that were laying around, I slipped my slippers on and went to go get some coffee.

The first thing I saw when I walked in was Dean dancing along to his horrible 70s and 80s rock. Flipping pancakes and sizzling bacon. 'God, why'd he choose no shirt this morning' "Huh? Did you say something Y/n?" I asked her, looking at her for the first time since last night.

She had her hair up in a messy bun, wearing a flannel of Dean, and a baggy pair of shorts. "No, I didn't say anything, Sam," Y/n said pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, continuing reading her book.

Okay Sam you have to admit that was odd and kinda creepy. Not that I mind being complimented, but still weird. "You gonna get your cup of coffee or just stand there looking like an idiot!" I heard Dean crack.

"No," I answered back grabbing a coffee cup that was next to the machine. 'Jeez Dean way to be an asshole towards Sam.' There it was again Y/n voice.

Turning around rather quickly which only hurt my neck even more. "Did you just say that?" I asked panic starting to overtake my body and instincts. y/n looked over at Dean, causing Dean to look over at me.

"Dude what are you going on about?" He asked me... eyes big I just waved his question off, "Never mind I think I must have hit my head last night." I said just wanting my morning coffee more than anything.

The rest of the morning went by fine. No hearing Y/n voice, but then again, she wasn't around for the rest of the morning. "I'm heading out to the shops; I need a new pair of jeans. If either one of you wanna head out with me that's fine too. If not that's okay too guys." Y/n said mostly talking and looking at me.

'Please come out with me Sammy' I heard. Ignore it, rolling my eyes before speaking again. "No, it's okay. Dean?" I spoke. "Nah, I'm fine dear. But thanks." Dean said using his signature wink.

As Y/n walked away I heard her voice again, 'Jesus Dean, stop with the nicknames, and the winking. Obviously, it's not working.' That was the last I heard the sentence.

Dean wants to be with Y/n. I don't, I can't see that going very well, Dean sees Y/n more as a sister than anything else. What does that mean it's not working?

Hours later Y/n came into the bunker carrying a few bags. "I thought you only needed a pair of jeans, Y/n?" Dean snarked. "I did, but you guys were running out of some things, so I grabbed some other shit." Y/n countered.

Well, I can't deny that Dean and Y/n do have a certain chemistry, one that she and I just don't have. "what did you get?" I asked moving the conversation along. "I umm... I got you guys some t-shirts, some more socks, and just something fun for both of you." She said shyly.

"That's great, thank you. Did you have an okay time?" I asked, 'No, Sam I didn't that's why I wanted you to go with me. So many gross old men hit on me.' I heard Y/n's face was only scrunched up for a few seconds.

"Yeah, I had a perfectly fine time. Really did enjoy the alone time." Y/n said winking at us. Dean just rolled his eyes and jumped up to go through the bags, but Y/n swatted his hands away.

Digging into the bag she pulled out pie for Dean and he took off with it like he was a squirrel. Y/n looked back over to me and then started to look through the other bags. "Here Sam. I didn't know if you already had this book, but I thought why not." She said, shrugging her shoulder in a cute sort of way.

"Here for a gift return, a Winchester hug, yeah?" I said laughing a little bit. "I don't see why not, I heard that they're hard to come by," Y/n said back rounding the table in an effort to get on a very one-sided hug.

I hadn't realized until recently how much shorter Y/n was compared to me. I could fully rest my chin on her head. 'God I could use this more often' I squeezed her in my arms. 'God, he smells so great' I heard again, she nuzzled her face into my chest. 'He gives much better hugs than Dean.' I heard.

Y/n was the one to let go of the hug, not me. I was starting to realize that it was in fact Y/n I was hearing just not the words coming out of her mouth, it was her thoughts.

That night I convinced Dean that I could make dinner. For the time I was at college and dating Jessica I had learned some good enough cooking skills. "Fine whatever you do just don't ruin my pans and pots!" Dean screamed from his bedroom as I walked away.

That night I cooked a shrimp alfredo, and chicken alfredo with noodles. Something simple but it was mostly all the food that we had left in the bunker kitchen.

"Dinners ready you two!" I hollered from the library, Dean running from the garage, and on the other side of me was Y/n walking down the hallway. 'Look at him, damn chiefs' apron' I looked down and saw that the apron said "kiss the cook" Damn Dean.

'I'd definitely kiss that cook.' I heard as she walked past me. I just followed her with my gaze, mouth slightly open. Hoping that it wouldn't fall straight to the floor.

"Well dig in. It won't kill you, Dean." Y/n said. Dean just put his hands up in defense it's not like he had said anything but we all know he was thinking it instead.

Dinner went by quickly, few words from any of us, and not many thoughts passing through Y/n's mind. Besides 'Damn, he's got skills, 'So much better than Dean would ever do' I snorted when I heard that thought. Dean looked over at me, "What's so funny Samuel?" He spoke.

I rolled my eyes, "It's Sam, Samuel sounds like an old fashion name" I said. "Nothing is wrong Dean." I finished. 'If nobody thought you guys were brothers, they should spend at least a few hours with you.' I heard.

"Can we not fight at the dinner table, please Dean," I asked. I was trying to lean into what Y/n was saying, or more thinking. By the end of dinner Dean had eaten another serving and was now on his second piece of apple pie and a glass of hard crown apple whiskey the Y/n had bought earlier that day.

"Good night you two love birds. Tweet tweet. I'm heading to bed." Dean said kissing Y/n's temple, and patting my shoulder he walked out of the library.

"I'm sorry about him, Y/n. He doesn't have a sensor." I said apologizing for my older brother. Y/n got up waving him off and grabbed the leftover dishware.

I followed behind her grabbing what she couldn't. "He's fine. He should know better, but he's okay Sammy." Y/n said. Not many people called me Sammy besides Dean and Y/n, but it always seemed sweeter coming out of her mouth.

Y/n started to wash dishes. "Can I ask you a question Y/n?" She hummed, so I continued on. "Why do you never say anything while we are on a hunt. You don't always have to follow out stupid ideas...." I said noticing that Y/n had now turned around and was facing me.

"Look I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that I'd like to know what you're thinking for a while. especially when we are on a hunt. Your opinions matter to me. I hope you know that." I said, crossing my arms across my chest.

'Shut up would Ya'. You don't know how much that means to me.' "I know that you can hear what I'm thinking." Well, that went south very quickly and my stupid facial expression doesn't help the situation. "How long have you known?" I asked.... We stood in silence beside the water in the sink running. "Since before dinner when I was thinking about kissing the amazing chef that made dinner. Because I would still kiss the chef." Y/n said. setting the plate down on the kitchen island.

'Do you want me to kiss you, Samuel?' She said in her thought. I hummed. Shaking my head, licking my lips in anticipation. 'Words Sammy Dear.' She thought. "Just come over here. If this is what happens when I can hear your thoughts, I may be okay with being cursed by a witch ever so often." I said before our lips crashed together.

Our kiss was short-lived when Y/n left mine. "What are you talking about the witch from last night's hunt?" I shook my head. "We need to go get that witch, kill her, get her to remove the curse. Whatever, because as much as it's cute somethings a girl wants to keep to herself." Y/n said, coming back up to my lips and pecking them.

"You're gonna be the death of me," I said, before following her over to the sink to help wash dishes. I think I might have fallen in love with you Y/n. I thought.

"Hey... I heard that." Y/n said. I rolled my eyes, "No you didn't." Confusion replaced Y/ns soft features. "Okay, what did I say then, Y/n?" I asked. "I think I might have fallen in love with you Y/n" Y/n answered.

"Damn it. We really gotta find that witch, Samuel." Y/n said.

Completed on: 04/11/2021

165 notes · View notes

candy-and-writing · 4 years

Text

What A Triple Lutz Can Do

part iii

Dark! Bucky x Ice Skater! Reader x Dark! Steve

Summary: Steve and Bucky have found each other again, after everything they’ve been through. When Steve meets you at the Winter Olympics, he decides you’re the perfect little doll for their plan.

General Warnings: non con/dub con, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, male masturbation, pet names—kitten, princess, ie; oral sex (female and male), fingering, (forced?) poly relationship (m/m/f), somnophilia, light bondage, more to be added as the story goes on

Chapter Warnings: non consensual touching and kissing, non consensual drugging, mean! Steeb, soft bois, stucky fluff

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Part Two // Part Four

Masterlist

It took you fifteen minutes to gather the courage to take a shower. Another ten to undress. You hated how exposed you felt, how at any moment Captain Rogers or Sergeant Barnes could walk in and see you naked.

The shampoo smelled heavenly, and as you dried your hair you marveled at how soft it was, how the scent lingered in your hair.

You clutched the towel to your body as you rummaged through the dresser drawers, searching for the least provocative set of underwear. You settled on a pair of lacy briefs that showed more of your ass than you initially thought and a matching bra.

You sorted through the wardrobe five different times, trying to find something to wear. Should you wear a dress? Did they want you to dress up? God, why were you complying with them?

You decided on a white sleeveless dress with a pink floral pattern and a flattering neckline. You paired it with a light pink cardigan, pulling the sleeves down past your wrists.

Looking in the bathroom mirror, you find what you need to style your hair, applying a quick layer of mascara to your lashes. While contemplating whether or not to put on some lip gloss, you grabbed the Chanel perfume bottle, examining it carefully before spritzing a little on your neck. It smelled like jasmine and roses. You liked it.

You shouldn't like it.

You're looking through the extensive makeup collection when you hear the door unlock. You turn your head and watch Bucky close the door behind him, balancing a tray with three plates of food in one hand. He spots you in the bathroom and his jaw drops.

"Wow, doll, you look—you look amazing."

You give him a timid smile and watch as he moves out of sight. You follow him to the threshold of the second room, the one you hadn't yet looked in. A small dining table sat in the middle of the room, with an absolutely gorgeous diamond chandelier hanging above the table. A large bookcase filled with books lined the wall. Skimming the titles, you realized that most of them were books that you had at home—or at the very least the same authors. Some were books you've never heard of before, a few were ones you've always wanted to read. Others were older, classics like the Oz series by L. Frank Baum and the Lord of the Rings series. Books that Steve and Bucky would have read in their childhoods.

"That was Steve's idea," Bucky says, walking up to you after he set the plates down on the table. "Wanted to get you something a little more personal."

You hummed in response, not knowing what else to say. Were you supposed to thank them? For what, for kidnapping you? For buying you expensive luxuries you didn't want?

Bucky hooked his finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"You look absolutely stunning in this dress, doll," he murmured, his voice low. You swallowed before finding your voice.

"It's just a dress. . . ."

His eyes were gorgeous. Tantalizing blue-grey like the sky at the first signs of a storm. You found yourself lost in them, at the little specks of a deeper blue, of green. You didn't realize he was closing in on you until his lips touched yours.

He smirked against your lips as you squeaked in surprise, your shoulders tensing as your hands flew to his chest to push him away. You felt like you were pushing against a brick wall; the solid mass of muscle beneath your palms wouldn't budge. When Bucky seemingly got tired of your resistance, he gathered your wrists in one of his hands and pinned them to your chest.

He moaned against your mouth, coaxing your lips apart as he dipped his tongue in. You stayed frozen in your spot, letting his tongue roam within your mouth. His hand trailed down to your breast, squeezing softly as you whimpered. His lips moved to the corner of your mouth, then to your jawline, kissing and sucking his way down your neck.

"You're wearing the perfume," Bucky commented, murmuring against your skin. "Do you like it? It reminded us of something women would wear back in our day. Something that fits you."

You shut your eyes, biting back a whimper as he nibbled on your neck. He intertwined his fingers with yours, pinning your hands flat against the wall and he suckled at your pulse point. You let out a weak mewl as he licked over the dark mark he created, his knee pushing against the apex between your thighs.

"Bucky asked you a question, sweetheart," Steve said suddenly, standing in the threshold, holding a bottle of wine by the neck and three glasses by their stems. Your eyes go wide at the sight of him and you try to push Bucky away, but he doesn't budge.

"When one of us asks you a question, you answer it." Stave's voice was surprisingly stern, sending a shudder down your spine.

It took you a moment to gather your voice. "Yes. . . it smells very nice." If either of them heard how shaky your voice was, they didn't acknowledge it. Steve hummed, setting the wine down on the table.

"Buck, dinner's ready."

"Mmm, I got dinner right here," he mumbled. Bucky grabbed your hips and pulled you down on his knee, grinding your core against him. You yelped, pushing against his chest in desperation.

"Bucky."

Bucky grumbled in response, fingers digging into the divot of your hips as he licked a stripe up your neck before finally relenting.

Your knees were shaking so much you could barely keep yourself upright, your hands plastered against the wall for support. Mascara streamed down your cheeks as Bucky held his hand out to you.

"C'mon, doll, let's eat."

Steve pulled out a chair for you, Bucky guiding you to sit down. Steve wiped your stained cheeks with a napkin, shushing you as you whimpered.

"Buck and I made your favorite, sweetheart," Steve beamed. "Fettuccine Alfredo with broccoli. We even got a bottle of Cabernet to share."

You nodded, mumbled a small 'thank you', and let Steve set your plate in front of you.

"Eat up, sweetie."

You were allowed one glass of wine during dinner, which was barely filled a third of the way up. You wanted to drink from the entire goddamn bottle—it seemed appropriate, considering the circumstances.

The fettuccine was good, admittedly, which made you sick to your stomach. You weren't very hungry, you had hardly taken four bites of your pasta, and Steve and Bucky had noticed.

"What's the matter, doll?" Bucky asked. "Do you not like it?"

"No!" you rushed. "No, it—dinner's wonderful. . . I'm just not very hungry."

"You haven't eaten all day, sweetheart," Steve chided. "And you didn't have very much to eat yesterday, are you feeling okay?"

You scoffed at that. "Other than the fact that a couple of psychotic superheroes have kidnapped me?" you muttered. "Oh, yeah, I'm great."

"Watch the attitude," Steve warned. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down at your uneaten food.

"Steve." Bucky looked at his friend, giving him the puppy eyes he couldn't ignore. "Give her a break."

Steve sighed. "If you really don't want to eat, fine, we'll go over the rules instead. Buck, you mind cleaning up?"

Bucky downed his wine, sighing as he and Steve stood. You were hesitant to follow, but when Steve held out his hand for you to take, you realized you didn't have much of a choice. He threaded his fingers in yours, guiding you back to the bed.

"Sit," he told you. You took a seat on the edge of the bed, Steve standing in front of you. "Good girl."

You couldn't stop the involuntary shudder that ran down your spine at the pet name. Steve smirked at your reaction.

"We're going to go over the rules, okay? There aren't many." He waited until you nodded to continue. "First off: We won't tolerate disobedience. You'll do as you're told when you're told, and you'll drop the backtalk. Got it?"

You couldn't understand the fear that settled in your gut. You should be angry—furious—at him for trying to control you, but you were just unbelievably scared. They held all the power here. You were helpless.

"Second rule," Steve growled, "you answer when Bucky or I talk to you."

"Okay," you forced out. Steve's expression relaxed a little.

"Good. Until you can show Bucky and me that you're ready to move upstairs with us, you'll stay down here. We bought you some books already, but if you want anything else to keep you entertained, just tell us. We'll get you anything you want, within reason. And you can make as much noise as you want down here—we soundproofed it. Doesn't mean you won't get punished for causing a ruckus, though."

Your lower lip wobbled a little as you responded with, "I understand."

"You will treat us with respect. You'll use your manners, you'll be sweet. You will accept what we give you, and you'll do as you're told when you're told.

"You disobey us, you will be punished. And trust me, Bucky and I can get pretty creative when we want to be. Your attitude at the dinner table was your only warning."

"I understand," you said quietly. "I'm sorry."

The apology slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

"Buck and I will do everything we can to make you happy and comfortable. That's our job, sweetheart, to make you happy." He gently cupped your cheek, his hand so warm you had to stop yourself from leaning into his touch. "You already make us so happy, we just want to return the favor."

You frowned at that, confused. Steve could see the wheels turning in your head, an amused smile on his face.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, princess?"

"Why am I here?" you asked carefully, your shoulders tense as you avoided his gaze. "I just—I don't understand."

Steve sighed, squatting down so he was level with you. "Because, sweetheart, we need you. You are perfect for us, baby, I knew that the moment I first saw you on the ice. The way you danced was so—so beautiful, you know? Like you were walking on water. I saw the way you seemed to relax, like every burden was being lifted off your shoulders. It's the only time you've seemed truly free. You're always so busy, sweetheart; between classes and practice, when do you have time for yourself? You're gonna work yourself to death, baby. We can help you, we can make you happy. I know you don't understand right now, but we are what you need.

"And you'll make us happy. We want you with us, want you in our relationship. We love you, sweetheart, we just want to show you that we love you."

You didn't realize you were crying until Steve brushed his thumb against your cheek to wipe away a tear.

"I know it's a lot, baby, but it's the truth. We're gonna take care of you, princess. You'll be safe here."

Your hands shook as you folded them in your lap, wringing your dress through your fingers. The fearful pout on your face had Steve trying to stop a smile. The crease between your brows was just too cute.

"But—I was happy," you sniffled. "I love skating, I love dancing. . . I was going to graduate in the spring. You're taking my life away, why can't you see that?"

"We know it's tough, doll," Bucky said, leaning against the threshold, his arms crossed against his chest. "We know it'll take some time for you to acclimate to your new life, but if you're patient with us, we'll be patient with you."

"No. You don't understand—" Your fear was quickly dissipating into anger. They weren't listening to you, they weren't going to listen. "I don't want to be here. You say you care about me? That you want to make me happy? Then let me go, please."

Steve sighed, looking back towards Bucky. His gaze turned hard as he looked back at you. "You're staying with us. We'll talk about some things we can get you to keep you from growing bored."

Your face fell at his comment.

"My ma used to cross-stitch," Bucky commented. "I would watch her and my sister go at it for hours. I'm sure it isn't too hard to figure out."

"Or knitting?" Steve piped. "You ever knit, sweetheart?"

You shook your head after a moment, appalled that they were having this conversation so nonchalantly. Rage radiated within you, angry tears threatening to spill past your lashes as you dug your nails into the palms of your hands.

"There anything you like to do, princess?" Steve asked.

You shrugged simply, looking down at your hands. Steve frowned, opening his mouth to speak when Bucky stopped him, resting his hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, doll, think about it for a bit." He gave you a small smile before giving Steve an exasperated look. "Stevie and I'll take the dishes upstairs, why don't you go ahead and get ready for bed?"

You swallowed thickly, nodding.

"Good girl, we'll be back down in a bit."

You watched them leave, the big heavy door locking you in behind them. You felt numb—fuzzy—like you weren't actually there. Or maybe you were just hoping you weren't. That maybe this was all some drunken-induced nightmare. Maybe you had drunk too much and wound up in an alcohol-induced coma.

You stood, stiffly walking toward the dresser. You shuffled through the drawer, looking for something suitable to sleep in. All you could find were silky slip ons and vintage nightgowns with lace on the hems and little bows—you hated it. You hated how they picked your wardrobe like you were a doll, how they were keeping you down here like a. . . a pet. Like you were a puppy they chose to take home from a shelter, keeping you in the basement to acclimate you to the house.

You groaned in frustration, slamming the drawer shut. You pace back and forth between the width of the room, pulling at your hair as you tried to put your thoughts together. Your head was spiraling, completely overwhelmed as you drowned in rage and fear and stress until you felt like you couldn't breathe.

You jumped as you heard the door unlocking, turning your head just in time to see Steve enter the room. You frowned, watching him wearily as he smiled at you, closing the door behind him. "Hey, sweetheart."

"What are you doing here?" It slipped past your lips before you really thought about it, mouth clamping shut as soon as you saw the way Steve's jaw clenched.

"Made you some hot chocolate," he said, holding up a mug. "Sprinkled some cinnamon in it, just how you like."

You felt your stomach drop. You blinked once, twice, swallowing the bitter disgust that was threatening to overflow your senses. "Oh, um. . . thank you."

He moved to set it down on the nightstand, turning back to you. "Why haven't you changed yet?"

"I—uh—I just—" You looked down at your florally dress, eyes flitting back up to meet his. "I couldn't decide what to wear," you lied.

Steve watched your eyes flick to the side, your hands playing with the fabric of the skirt of your dress. He smiled, stepping close to you and hooking his finger under your chin to tilt your head up. "Why don't we go find something, huh? Come on."

He wrapped his hand around yours and guided you to the dresser, opening up a drawer. He started to shuffle through the clothing. "Let's see. . . how 'bout this, sweetheart?"

He pulled out a little black silk slip-on, holding it up by the straps. Your jaw dropped, completely appalled as tears quickly began to well in your eyes in panic. You had just started to stutter out an answer when Steve chuckled.

"I'm just kidding, sweetie, relax."

Your stomach flipped as you watched him smile—a genuine smile that split his lips and showed off his pearly white teeth. You blinked, stunned, taking in the smile lines in the corner of his eyes and the barely-there dimples on his cheeks.

"How 'bout this one?"

He showed off a modest nightgown with strings laced up the neckline, doily lace trimming the hem of the collar and the skirt and pink bows decorating the fabric. You scowled, barely stopping a grimace from spreading across your lips. Steve caught it anyway, huffing out a laugh.

"Not that one either, huh? Okay. . . . What about this one?"

He pulled out a sleeveless silk sleep-dress with lace tracing the neckline and the straps. The color of the silk reminded you of something a newly wed would wear on her wedding night, that off-white ivory that many women dreamed of. Knowing that was probably the simplest nightgown you had, you let out a sigh, your shoulders dropping.

"That one works," you told him.

Steve beamed, his eyes sparkling as he shut the dresser drawer, handing you the nightdress. "Alright then, go ahead and get changed."

You nodded, giving him a small smile back as you went to turn. He caught your arm, his grip firm yet gentle. "Where ya goin'?"

You frowned at him. "The . . . bathroom? To change?"

His grip on your arm tightened for only a second, enough to send a shudder down your spine. You bit the inside of your cheek to try to steel yourself, hoping you didn't look like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"You don't need to go to the bathroom to change, doll. You can do it right here."

"But—"

"Now, sweetheart. I won't ask again."

You nodded, shuffling the sweater off your shoulders. You ducked your head, your hands wringing the sweater tightly. "Could you—um—could turn around, at least? Please?"

Steve sighed and you dropped your gaze. "Fine. But you're gonna have to learn to get used to Buck and me eventually."

You nodded and watched as he turned, thanking him. You were quick to unzip the dress and let it pool at your feet. You struggled to unclasp the bra, grunting in annoyance when it wouldn't come undone.

"You need some help, sweetheart?" Steve taunted. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"No."

You decided to just slide the straps off your arms and shuck the bra down your body until you were able to step out of it, dropping it on the floor and pulling the nightgown over your head. It was shorter than you anticipated, the hem reaching mid-thigh instead of your knees.

"Okay, you can turn around."

Steve took two steps and he was facing you again, smirking down at you.

"You should drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold," he said.

"Oh, uh—right." You sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping your fingers around the mug before you took a small sip. Steve watched you intently, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. "So —um. . . where's Sergeant Barnes?"

"He's finishing the dishes," Steve told you. "Should be down here soon. Why, you miss him already?"

You felt your cheeks heat up, your fingers tapping against the ceramic of the mug as you sputtered out your answer. "N-no, it—it's not—I was just curious, is all."

Steve chuckled. You swallowed nervously, taking a prolonged sip from your mug—mainly as an excuse to avert your eyes from Steve's gaze. You kept silent, focusing on the warmth that flooded your chest every time you took a sip of your hot chocolate. You blinked lazily, your body feeling heavier. Steve sat down next to you, and as you turned your gaze you realized for the first time he had changed. Before, he was wearing trousers and a button-up shirt. Now, though, he's in sweatpants and a plain white shirt.

"Bucky thinks you'd like a record player down here," he said, "something so it isn't so quiet. We could get you some cd's, some records. Does that sound good?"

Not how does that sound? or would you like that? But does that sound good? He wasn't giving you any other option but to comply. To be okay with his decision. You blinked again, finding it harder to open your eyes this time as you nodded, muttering a soft, "yeah."

Steve smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. You jumped, spine going rigid as you felt his lips split into a grin against your skin.

"You're too cute, babydoll."

You swallowed, sucking in a shaky breath, bringing the near-empty mug to your lips. You couldn't tell if it was the trembling in your arms or if your hands were really shaking, but you gripped the ceramic tighter so you wouldn't drop it. You had never been called that before. Babydoll. You always hoped you would have a partner who would call you by that pet name, but the few boys you dated in high school and freshman year of college were. . . shallow. Your second boyfriend hardly ever told you he loved you. But—even still—you never thought the first time someone would call you that would be a situation as fucked up like this one.

The loud click of the lock broke you from your thoughts, the solid steel door opening slowly. Bucky Barnes stepped in, shutting the door behind him, smiling at you as you heard the dreaded lock click again.

"Hey, doll," he greeted. He ran his flesh hand through his cropped hair, smiling down at you as he crossed over to you and Steve.

You honestly couldn't tell if you acknowledged him or not. Your vision was clouding and your eyelids felt heavy like you could fall asleep in a second if the two men would let you.

"She drink her hot chocolate?" you heard Bucky ask.

"Practically chugged it," Steve answered. You frowned, not understanding their words. You looked down at your empty mug precariously, your brow furrowed as you tried to look for something obvious. Like a roach.

You shivered as Bucky took the mug from you, his fingers ghosting over yours and he smiled. You shuddered again, goosebumps rising upon your skin when Steve started combing his hand through your hair.

"What's the matter, baby?" Bucky asked. "You cold?"

It took you a moment to answer, your eyelids closed, as you mumbled out a soft, "yeah."

You felt Bucky's hovering presence leave for only a moment before it returned; you cracked your eye open to see him holding out a cardigan sweater.

"Go on."

You took it with a soft 'thank you,' and pulled the woven wool over your shoulders. It was so soft against your skin, you hugged your arms around your body as the plush fuzz tickled your bare arms, letting out a sigh. Your head started to droop after you closed your eyes and Steve had to nudge your chin up with his finger. You heard him chuckle.

"I think that's our queue to go to bed," he said. Your world was spinning then, as two hands came under the crooks of your shoulders and lifting you. You let out a lazy yelp as Bucky plopped you down on the center of the bed. You bounced on the mattress a few times before you settled, your eyes falling on Steve as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Wha. . .wha're ya doin'?" you slurred, heart racing as you felt the bed dip.

"We're goin' to bed, baby," Bucky said like it was obvious, crawling into the bed beside you. You frowned at him, your mind foggy as you tried to wrap your brain around what was happening.

"I. . . no—I don't want—"

Steve shushed you, climbing into bed on the other side of you. His hand pressed against your chest, the width from his thumb to his pinky finger spanning across your entire front as he pushed you back with little effort. Your back landed on the plush mattress with a soft 'oof'. "You're just tired, sweetheart," he smiled. "Go to sleep."

You couldn't fight it. Their body heat engulfed you like a typhoon engulfing the mainland; it was overwhelming. You were imprisoned between the two supersoldiers and being forced into a slumber so violently it was like you were being smothered with a pillow. You let out a breathy whine as Bucky wrapped an arm around your torso.

"Hush, doll," Bucky cooed. "You're okay. Just close your eyes."

You fought some more, sluggishly flailing your arm and trying to bat away hands until Bucky had pinned you down, hugging your body flush to his. He crooned your name softly against your ear, his hot breath sending a violent shiver down your spine.

"You're alright, baby," he hushed. "Just relax, Stevie and I are right here. Just go to sleep, princess."

You didn't know if it was the drug or the cozy heat that radiated off of the supersoldiers—maybe it was both—but you drifted off soon after, your body feeling like maple syrup was running through your veins. Steve and Bucky watched as you settled down, your shoulders dropping as your breathing evened out.

"Is she asleep?" Bucky asked softly, lifting his head to look at Steve.

"Yeah, she passed out quick, I might've put too much of the sedative in her drink." Steve was on his side, arm under his pillow as he looked down at the girl curled against his chest.

"I told you, she isn't very big—half a dose would've done the job just fine."

"I just want her to be comfortable," Steve pouted, letting out a sigh. "She was so scared earlier. I just wanna show her she doesn't have'ta be afraid."

"It'll just take some time, Stevie," Bucky told him. "Soon enough, she'll see that this is what's best for her, I promise."

"Yeah." Steve paired with your hair, listening to your soft snores as silence filled the room.

Steve agreed with Bucky—it was too quiet down there. Apart from your small breaths, Steve could only hear the quiet buzz of silence. He thought about records he and Bucky could get you; you liked soft music—acoustic and folk/indie. You really liked an artist named Taylor Swift. Steve tried to ask Bucky if he knew who she was, but he didn't, so Steve ended up downloading her entire discography onto his phone—with Sam's help, who refuses to leave him alone about it. Steve actually liked a lot of her songs; he thought they suited you.

"Do you think it's too dark in here?" Bucky's low voice seemed to echo throughout the silent room.

Steve had been thinking the same thing. There was only a little night light plugged into the bathroom, so you had a little bit of guidance, but they'd have to get you another—maybe in the other room, if they got one bright enough. You were used to the city noise, the light seeping through the cracks of your blinds.

"Yeah," Steve whispered back. "We could get her another nightlight?"

Bucky hummed in response. "Maybe something that sits on her nightstand? It'd be a little brighter than a plug-in."

"Yeah, we'll look for something in the morning."

They stayed quiet for a while, both supersoldiers admiring you while you slept soundly between them. Steve ran his fingers through your hair while Bucky's traced shapes over your bare thigh under the blankets.

"This is perfect, Stevie," Bucky smiled, breaking the silence, reaching over you to grab Steve's hand.

Steve lulled in agreement, still watching the way your chest rose softly with your quiet breaths. "We waited so long for this, Buck, to have her here. She's gonna learn to love us, We just need to be patient."

"I just. . . she's right here, Steve. We're holding her and all I wanna do is fuck her until she can't think—but she's so scared. I don't wanna scare her."

"I know," Steve sighed. "But soon we won't have to control ourselves, she'll be begging for us soon enough."

Bucky had to stifle a groan just thinking about it — about how your little voice would sound begging for his cock, begging him to fuck you silly.

You shuffled between the two of them, letting out the smallest grunt as you readjusted. Bucky gripped your hip to still you, his thumb rubbing small circles into the divot of your hip. You stopped squirming, letting out a small huff before you relaxed.

"She's restless," Bucky noted quietly like he was talking to himself.

"Side effect of the sedative," Steve said. "We'll have to play around with the dosage. Maybe try half a dose tomorrow night, see if even that's too much."

Bucky nodded. "She'll need to eat more tomorrow, too. What she ate at dinner wasn't nearly enough."

"She had a big day," Steve countered. "She was hungover, for one. And she was a little shell-shocked, poor baby couldn't wrap her pretty head around all this."

Bucky huffed out a laugh as Steve grinned.

"I love you, Stevie."

"I love you too, Buck."

Your body protested the first time you woke up. Your senses were fuzzy, only half awake as you protested with a high pitched whine, curling in on yourself. You were so warm, so comfortable, it was lulling you back to sleep as you were struggling to wake.

"Shh, babygirl." There was a hand carding through your hair, drifting you back into slumber. "It's alright, go back to sleep."

You were too tired to actually comprehend the voice, or the hands in your hair and on your hip, running up and down your waist. You were too lagged to feel the two bodies crowding you between them, trapping you between their heat.

You drifted off again just as you felt the lingering touch of lips on your cheek.

The second time you awoke, you were much colder. Maybe that's why it was easier to open your eyes. It was pitch black in your room and for a moment you worried it was still the middle of the night—until you felt the bedsheets. It wasn't nighttime, there just weren't any windows in your prison. It could be noon and you wouldn't be able to tell.

You forced yourself into a sitting position, groaning when your head started to throb so violently you thought it was going to explode. You leaned forward to search for the edge of the bed, yelping as your hand never touched the mattress and you went toppling off the edge. You landed on the floor with a dull 'thump', pulling the covers down with you. You weren't able to catch yourself in time before your head smacked onto the floor.

"Fuck. . . ." you whimpered, shakingly bringing a hand up to your forehead. The lights flipped on, and two pairs of hands were on in less than a second.

"What happened, doll? Are you okay?" It was Bucky. His hands rested on your forearms as he pulled you up, cradling you to his chest. Steve's fingers grazed the bump that had started to form along your hairline and you winced, trying to escape the pain that jolted through your head. "C'mon babydoll, use your words."

"She hit her head," Steve said gently.

"M'fell," you grumbled, clutching at your temples.

"Why don't you let Stevie look at it, princess?" Bucky coaxed, hooking his finger under your chin and turning you to face Steve. You let out a high pitched whine in protest as you were forced out of the darkness the crook of Bucky's arm provided, your eyes closed as your head throbbed in the light. Bucky shushed you, his fingers running through your hair gingerly.

"She might have a concussion," Steve mumbled to himself, his thumb just barely grazing the contusion. "Nothing major."

You grumbled out a garbled response and burrowed your face back into the crook of Bucky's arm.

"No, baby, I need you to look at me."

When you refused to move your head, Bucky kissed your hair, whispering to you, "C'mon, precious. All you gotta do is look at Stevie for a little bit, then we'll turn the lights back off. Can you do that for us?"

You were quiet for a moment before you looked back up at Steve, cracking your eyes open. He smiled at you, sneaking a quick look at Bucky before he returned his focus to you. He holds his pointer finger up in front of your face and tells you to follow it with your eyes. He glided his finger to the left first, and your gaze followed until the appendix left your vision. He did the same thing to the right side. Your head was pulsating under your skull and you had to close your eyes, squeezing the bridge off your nose to alleviate some of the pressure.

"She has a small concussion," Steve confirmed. "We'll just have to keep an eye on it. Nothing else we can do about it."

"Get off me," you scowled, shoving yourself out of Bucky's lap. You were shaky as you stood, tripping over yourself before you found your balance.

"We're just making sure you're okay, doll." Bucky grabbed Steve's hand to keep him from shouting at you.

"You're the reason I fell in the first place," you grumbled, scoffing as you rubbed your temples. They were the ones who brought you to this basement, it was their fault you couldn't find the edge of the bed when it was so god damn dark.

"What'd you say, sweetheart?"

"Let it go, Steve," Bucky pleaded. Steve didn't listen.

You didn't have time to even blink before he was on you, hand gripping your jaw tightly and shoving you against the wall.

You winced when the back of your head collided with the wall, his fingers digging into your jawline.

"You wanna try that again, sweetheart?" he scowled.

A whimper escaped your lips, your small fingers wrapping around his large wrist.

"St—stop."

"Last chance, Sweetheart."

"I'm sorry," you squeaked. "I—I didn't mean it. . . I'm sorry."

Steve closed his eyes, inhaling like he was physically restraining himself, and stepped back. He let go of you and you gasped for breath, doubling over and wheezing.

"I'm not gonna tell you again," Steve glowered. "We won't tolerate your attitude. That was your last warning."

You nodded furiously, tears welling in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks.

"Get dressed," Steve ordered, motioning for Bucky to stand up. "We'll be back down with breakfast in a few minutes."

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snowdice · 3 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 67]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

Got many things to do today, though I do have a meeting in a bit over an hours, so there will be a break.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

“Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

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Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

“Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

“Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

Virgil seemed uninterested in this part of the adventure, instead electing to go poking around by himself. Princess Marisol squirmed out of Patton’s arms to go follow him. Patton swore that he only looked away from those two for 5 seconds, but the next thing he knew he heard metal clicking against metal.

“Oh,” Patton said, eyes wide when he saw what Virgil was fiddling with. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t touch…”

The old but fancy looking chest that had been at the end of the remains of the bed creaked open. Virgil sneezed as a cloud of dust puffed out of it. “Huh,” he said studying the contents. “There’s a skull in here.”

“Oh, I don’t like this adventure anymore,” Patton commented.

Logan was on his feet within moments. “Let me see,” he said eagerly.

“What if it’s cursed?” Patton pointed out.

“Then I’ll just break the curse,” Logan waved him off. “Oh, it’s just a horse skull,” Logan said, sounding disappointed. “And also what seemed to be potion ingredients. Though they seem very fresh considering the state of the room.”

“Maybe we should get someone else to…”

Logan already had both arms inside the chest and was pulling things out of it. “This chest must have some sort of stasis effect to it.”

He started pulling things out to look at them before setting them on the floor with no caution. “Well,” he said, “that answers the question of what this room is.”

“It does?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, between the horse skull and the potion ingredients, this is obviously the bedroom of Princess Marianne Elicia. She was the third child of King Simon IV and was quite the fan of horses.”

“…So she kept a horse skull in a stasis chest in her bedroom?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Logan said. “Back when her family was in power, magic was outlawed and had quite the stigma against it, but she ended up learning magic and become quite proficient.”

“It’s debated what exactly happened when her father found out about her activities. Some sources say that she was executed silently by her father, but others say she managed to escape with the head of the stables but not before putting a curse on the country of Prijaznia. That is until she or one of her bloodline sits on the throne, every royal line will end in madness and blood by the 5th seated monarch before an heir is born.”

“Isn’t that something you should be worried about?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged. “It’s just a myth,” he said. “Besides I’m 6th in the line, so there really isn’t any concern.”

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“There are a lot of interesting things in here,” Logan said, still focused on the chest. “Not to mention the books. We’ll have to be careful with those though since they don’t appear to be in stasis.”

Logan pulled the horse skull out and set it on the floor making Patton wince.

“Marisol no!” he said as Princess Marisol immediately went to go sniff at it. He swooped her up in his arms. “How long are we staying in this creepy room?” Patton asked.

“Patton, we just got here,” Logan said.

“We just got here and already found a skull!”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Patton groaned into Princess Marisol’s fur even as she tried wiggle away to go back and investigate the skull. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter 35

Logan was surprised when he woke up alone in bed. He’d grown to anticipate waking to a smaller body unrelentingly clinging to his in the past couple of weeks. Confused he sat up and peered around his bedroom. He wouldn’t have seen Virgil with the way he melted into the darkness if it he hadn’t heard the sound of purring coming from near the window. He could just barely make out a dark blob shifting up and down at the cat kneaded at a different blob sitting mostly hidden behind the thick curtain.

“Virgil?” Logan questioned. “What are you doing?”

“It’s snowing,” was the answer.

“That is not an answer,” Logan grumbled at the ceiling. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed. It was a bit chilly in here, he thought. The temperature must have dipped suddenly and intensely enough that the runes keeping the castle at a warm enough temperature hadn’t caught up yet. He pulled one of the blankets off of the top of his bed to wrap around his shoulders as he approached the window. There wasn’t much light outside, the stars and moon covered by clouds, but there were some lanterns lit for the night guard who patrolled the outside. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “It’s really snowing.”

It had been colder but not quite cold enough for snow to stick the day before, so it came as a surprise when he saw snow was piling up quite high to the point where familiar paths outside his window had disappeared.

“I don’t like it,” Virgil informed him.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“It’s cold,” Virgil answered. It was clear in his tone that in Virgil’s opinion ‘cold’ was a horrible insult to the concept of snow. Logan quirked a half smile and his attention was drawn to the fact that it was quite cold right here close to the window.

Frowning, he pulled at the blanket around his shoulder so he could wrap it and his arm around the lump that was Virgil. He brushed the boy’s hand when he did so and found it was like ice.

“You’re freezing!” Logan said. “How long have you been by the window?”

“I dunno,” he replied.

Logan was already tugging at him. “You need to get back in bed,” he said.

Virgil obeyed the pulling at his arms even as he frowned. “I’ve been colder than this before,” he said.

“That actually doesn’t make me feel better,” Logan replied dryly as he shooed him towards the bed.

He took the thicker blanket that usually stayed folded at the end of the bed and pulled it up over Virgil before climbing into bed beside him.

“There,” Logan said, rubbing Virgil’s arms through the fabric of the sweater he wore to bed. He was glad he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt at least. “The runes for heating the castle should catch up within a few hours, but until then this should do. Assuming we don’t sit by the freezing window for an undetermined amount of time.”

“I don’t like the cold,” Virgil told him.

Logan sighed. “Then why did you sit by the window?”

Virgil shrugged and ducked his head a bit. Logan reached out to grab his hands to help him warm more but was surprised when one of the hands was much warmer than the other. He found his fingers were clutching a crescent shaped stone: the protection charm they’d made. Logan knew that he kept it in his pocket most of the time, but he didn’t normally see him holding it like this. It was warm to the touch, of course, indicating the safety of the room around them.

Logan looked over his face. “Are you…” he said. “Scared of the snow?”

“I don’t like the cold,” he said once again.

“You’re scared of the winter,” Logan concluded. He looked at Virgil who was far too small for his age and seemed surprised at every casual act of kindness. It was clear that his basic needs were far from being met before he came here. Logan had to wonder what winter usually meant for him. His experiences were doubtlessly very different from Logan’s own. “That makes sense,” he acknowledged, “but you don’t need to be scared of it here. The castle is always perfectly warm and safe in the winter and Mr. Deknis and Ms. Heart work hard during the other seasons to make sure we have plenty of food. There is nothing to fear here.”

He did not seem convinced.

“You don’t even have to go outside if you don’t want to,” Logan promised. “The castle is plenty big if you’d like to stay inside all winter long. It was made for the winter even without the magic devices that keep it warm. We have fireplaces and well insulated rooms even if those that ends up failing.” Logan pulled open the hand that had the protection charm just to transfer it to his other hand to warm it. “Though, while no one would force you to go outside, the snow isn’t always bad.”

“Yes it is,” Virgil said, his voice sure.

“Not all the time,” Logan insisted. “Some people love the snow.”

“They’re stupid.”

Logan laughed. “It can be fun for a while with the right equipment if you have someplace to get warm again afterwards. Royal duties slow down during the winter and Patton tends to come up with all sorts of games for both the inside and the outside to pass the time. He’s particularly proficient at snowball fights, at least against me.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Play fighting,” Logan answered. “Like pillow fights, but snow.”

“I’ll stick with the pillows,” he replied.

“And then there’s a hill to sled down on the western side of the castle, and people like to build snowmen along the path.”

“What are snowmen?” Virgil asked.

They’re temporary statues made out of packed snow,” Logan explained. “Typically, they’re made of three different sized balls of snow: the largest being the base and the smallest the ‘head’ though there are some variations. After building them one typically decorates them with different articles of clothing and objects found lying around. It’s usually sticks and rocks for the face and then things like extra hats and scarfs for decoration.” He smiled softly. “When my Pa was alive, we used to steal my Dad’s crown and fanciest robes. Sometimes Pa would steal it right off of Dad’s head and we’d run away. We’d find a secluded area of the castle yards and build the biggest snowman we could as quickly as we could before we got caught. He’d usually end up letting us keep the robes, but we’d have to give the crown back since some of the metals in it would rust when wet.”

“That sounds…” Virgil’s nose twitched. “fun if you take away the touching snow part.”

Logan laughed. “It is fun,” he said. “Even with the touching snow part. Though, I admit that some of the ability for it to be entertaining does come from the fact that we could warm up afterwards with ease. You’ll enjoy Patton’s mother’s constant offering of hot chocolate during the season even if you never go outside, I’m sure.”

“Hot chocolate?” Virgil asked intrigued. His dark eyes shone brightly in the little light coming through the window. It was clear he could guess something about the drink just by the name and enjoyed the implications.

Logan smiled fondly. “It is a hot drink,” he explained. “It’s a warm drink made out of milk and chocolate. I can get you some to try in the morning.”

Virgil nodded, eyes still wide with interest.

“For now, we should sleep though,” Logan said. “Are you warm enough? I can get more blankets.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Good,” Logan said, reaching up and adjusting the blanket over them once more, tucking it around Virgil a little bit for good measure. “Goodnight Virgil,” he said.

“Goodnight,” he replied softly. Logan reached under the blankets to grab the hand that was still slightly chilly from the window between his own. Virgil’s eyes slipped closed after a moment as he nuzzle his face into the pillow. At some point they both drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 36

Thomas had already been well aware that winter was on the way, but he and the rest of the castle occupants had been surprised at how intensely and suddenly it had come on. Most things were ready for the winter, but not all of them had been initiated. The fireplaces that took some pressure off the castle heating runes were cleaned out and ready, but they hadn’t been started yet. The stables for different animals on the grounds had been checked over and staff assignments had been made, but most were still in far out fields. Staff that went home for the winter months had been dismissed, but there were a few stragglers that would have to be helped home before things got worse.

He’d gone out to the main stable to talk to the three workers that were the heads of different areas of animal husbandry to make sure a plan to get everything to where it needed to be soon was in place. It took a while to figure out considering that they’d expected a little more time before the first major snowfall. Thomas also asked them to make sure all of the workers’ homes were in good enough condition for the weather. Ranch hands typically had homes on castle grounds but not in the castle themselves since they needed to be close to the animals. Thomas knew at least half a dozen of those who spent most of their times out in the fields were the type to forgot to maintain their homes because they preferred camping amongst the animals in the summer months and then would be in for a bad time when snow began to fall.

There should be enough extra rooms in the castle if they needed a place to stay until repairs could be done.

Those conversations took a good couple of hours, before Thomas was satisfied. Before trudging back to the castle through the still falling snow, he made a point to stop at one specific horse stall in the main stable. The horse turned his head to see Thomas when he stopped in front of his stall and puffed out a rather disaffected snort before sticking his head over the gate so Thomas could pat his nose. “Hello, Mr. Apples,” Thomas said.

The horse seemed to conclude he’d tolerated Thomas’s petting enough and ducked his head to nudge at his torso. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I brought you an apple. Some things never change.” He reached into his pocket to grab the red apple he’d brought the white Arabian. “At least you don’t bite me anymore.” He paused, apple slice in hand and eyed the horse’s nose suspiciously. “Do not bite me,” he said even though he hadn’t felt the animal’s teeth in a decade. It would be just like Mr. Apples to wait until his guard was down.

After a bit of scrutiny, he offered an apple slice. It was snatched out of his hand and there was a loud crunch as it was bit into.

“It’s snowing out,” he told the horse. The horse seemed to roll his eyes at the statement of the obvious. “I’ll remind again that if you run out in a snowstorm, I’m not running after you, so you’d be out of luck.”

Mr. Apples snorted.

“You’re old now. You’d probably not survive long enough for people to find you. Besides, you blend in with that white fur of yours. They’d probably walk right past you a few times.”

He went back to nosing for treats as soon as he finished his first and Thomas sighed, pulling out another apple slice. “What are they not feeding you enough?” The gusto with which the horse snatched the apple slice was a very clear answer. “Well, we both know that’s not true.” Thomas fed the horse a third slice of apple when he was done with his second. “I have to get back to the castle now. Don’t be a devil horse.”

Mr. Apples threw his head a bit, splattering apple smelling foamy spittle all over Thomas’s front.

“Understood. Have a nice afternoon.”

He left Mr. Apples in his stall then, knowing he’d be well cared for no matter how ill-tempered he could be at times. He’d been a king’s horse once, after all, no matter that said king had been dead for more than a decade now.

Winters were hard.

Winters were the times when things always slowed down at the castle, where royal duties were often thin. There were a lot of memories in winter.

The trip back to the castle was not particularly long, but it was also not particularly pleasant. The snow had not been cleared away considering it was still snowing which meant his feet and legs were wet and cold by the time he made it to the nearest castle door.

He wasn’t sure if, when he entered, the castle heating runes had started to work in earnest or if he’d just been so cold that any measure of warmth was appreciated, but he was relieved to be out of the snow either way.

He decided to check up on the progress of the castle staff lighting the fireplaces. With any luck, they’d be lit already, and he could warm up even more. That in mind, he headed towards the main foyer where the largest fireplace in the castle sat to take off the chill brought in by the large front doors.

The main foyer was bustling with activity when he snuck in along the sides, giving the guards stationed around nods as he passed. The main fire in the room was burning brightly, though only one of the two smaller ones near the side exits from the room was lit. The other one was still being set up with safety mechanisms. It was good progress and assuming other areas of the castle were being set up as efficiently, he assumed they’d all be set up by nightfall.

He’d need to go check around to be sure, but for now, he walked up to the main fireplace to warm his hands.

He’d gotten into the habit when he was younger to every so often glance upwards. There had been a certain stable boy who had a propensity for climbing trees. These days, he usually found nothing when he did so, often not even consciously noticing that he’d turned his gaze momentarily skywards. Yet, today, he was startled out of his own idleness by dark brown eyes looking back at him from a small ledge in the shadows high above him.

He froze as he met the young boy’s gaze. Virgil seemed as surprised to be caught as Thomas was to have caught him.

Slowly Thomas raised one hand and waved to the boy. He slunk back into the shadows at the acknowledgment. If Thomas peered hard enough, he could see a shadow stretch up towards the third-floor balcony in the darkness and disappear over the railing.

Interesting boy.

Thomas found himself smiling despite the oddity. They still had not found out much about Virgil. He would speak to Jeffers about many things apparently, but often could not be redirected to invasive topics and he was still a bit skittish around Helen. He hadn’t willingly existed in a room with Thomas. Thomas hoped that changed at some point. There was something about him that made Thomas like him.

Chapter 37

Virgil had not spent a lot of time out of Logan’s room. What little time he had spent outside of it was either with Patton and/or Logan or tucked away in secret corridors he found in the walls where no one would stumble upon him. Yet, here he was willingly in a, well, not public by any means place, but one that was still more exposed than he was used to being in. Somehow, he was managing to not care at all.

It was helped by the fact that both Logan and Patton had been in the room at the start, but they had gone off to go… somewhere. Food sounded like it might have been the reason.

He liked food, and usually he would have been all for going to get some, but between them promising to bring him back some and the fact that he was never going to move ever again, he’d decided to stay.

Princess Marisol seemed to be the only other rational being in the whole castle because she had also not moved since discovering the contents of this room. She was currently laying on his chest purring happily.

The fireplace was a wonderful invention. Now, Virgil had, of course, warmed up by a fire before when it was cold, but this was much different. There was a grate that blocked off the fire a bit keeping it from burning the person in front of it and there was a plush rug right by it, perfect for laying down on. Someone had known what they were doing when designing this room.

He didn’t even care that the king had access to this sitting room as well as Logan.

…

Okay, so he did care a little bit, but he was ignoring that. He was probably busy this time of day anyway, right?

…

He really didn’t want to run into him after being caught watching the castle workers set up the bigger fireplaces. Kings probably didn’t like people sneaking around watching things from the shadows even when they didn’t know that the person sneaking around was literally sent to kill them.

Princess Marisol must have had a sixth sense for his anxieties (or he’d just started breathing faster and disturbed her) because she stirred a bit.

#proofread stories #not writing

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