#and everyone's named after herbs and flowers 'n' stuff right? so i started looking up those plants and meanings

[gible-love-nibles]

I can't believe the thing that gave me the basis to start solidifying a Layton S/I was. Fucking H.igh G.uardian S.pice 💀

#🐉🎮.txt #for context: i was watching a critique of it because. If You Know About This Show You Know #and everyone's named after herbs and flowers 'n' stuff right? so i started looking up those plants and meanings #and snapdragons just. fit perfectly for what i wanted for my s/i #so maybe not *directly* responsible but. yeah. still funny #thank you h.igh g.uardian s.pice for reminding me plants exist

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Little Brother Knows Everything

I lied. Here's a bonus chapter.

Warnings: Mention of Death ; Unrequited[?] Love ; Mention of bombs ; Jealousy

Words: 3.1k

Tommy may have been an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He noticed the little things more often than he didn’t. But there were four things he knew about you better than anyone else.

Tommy knew that you liked tea.

Siblings, and people in general, seem to have this habitual kind of indicator of their mood. Some people bounced their leg when they were nervous, others liked to twiddle their thumbs or pop joints; It’s different for everyone.

But he could always tell how [y/n] felt by the tea they were drinking.

When they were nervous, they made tea brewed from lavender buds collected from a flower field they often visited with Technoblade or Phil. They brought Tommy once. He had run around the whole area with infinite energy before the blond climbed the tree. He had climbed higher and higher until he could feel the warmth of the setting sun shine on his face. The branch broke, but when he plummeted, he wasn’t scared. They were at the bottom, waiting to catch him. They were always waiting to inevitably catch him no matter if it was from his own stupid decisions or from someone else’s. They got nervous a lot, but when he was by their side, he could never be.

When [y/n] was stressed, they made tea out of the peppermint leaves in their garden. The scent filled their house while it brewed and the act of harvesting the herb was “soothing”. Tommy wasn’t sure how weeding was supposed to be relaxing, but he happily did it when their newest sibling figure asked him to. He remembered pulling out a whole mint plant the first time he had worked beside them, unknowing that that was the plant he was supposed to be protecting. They had laughed, gently scolding him, before setting it aside. Even if they were stressed out, they never took it out on him.

When he was sad or upset, they made chamomile tea with honey. Chamomile is a calming flower, he remembered them saying once. And the honey helped you remember that golden days were ahead. They made it for him every morning after he would wake up in the bed he seemed to sleep in more than his own. Sometimes the honey came from Technoblade, sometimes they had retrieved it themselves from wild hives, but they always seemed to get the best stuff. Even when he cried or started to -what was the word they had used? Disassociate? That sounded correct-, he could expect the mug to be pushed into his hands, a sugary but not cloying aroma wafting off it. He always felt much better when he left. He could never remember seeing them drink the tea, despite having such an abundance of it. Did they even get sad? He had never witnessed it.

When they were happy, they made black tea of various kinds and drank sweet iced tea that reminded him of what diabetes would taste like if it were liquid. They drank this with him almost daily. It was always a new blend they wanted to try and perfect or one they wanted him to taste. He loved smelling this tea the most. When its fragrance filled the air, somehow, everything felt right in the world. He couldn’t recall a single time when he didn’t see them on the porch, drinking the amber liquid out of a glass when they knew he’d be coming over for dinner.

It was the days when you didn’t drink tea at all, he was afraid.

Tommy knew that no matter what someone did to them, [y/n] wasn’t afraid to make enemies or insert themselves between their friends and any sort of danger to protect them.

Dream was surprised to see [y/n] at the meeting between the Greater Dream SMP and L’Manburg. It was only supposed to be him and George convening with Tubbo and Tommy. They held no real power in the country. They didn’t belong in this meeting, just like they didn’t belong in this timeline.

He watched the way they, during George and Tubbo’s discussion, rested a hand on Tommy’s arm when his hands clenched hard enough to turn his knuckles white. He saw how they would murmur quietly to him and the child would relax ever so slightly. He noticed the nods they gave the blond when he looked to the adult for confirmation after he made a questionable statement. He observed your true role here.

“Nice to see you replace Wilbur so quickly, Tommy. That’s good. He was a horrible role model for you.” His lips curled behind his mask at the shocked expression on everyone else’s face aside from the vice president before him. His eyes were sharp, angry. “Maybe without his influence, you’ll actually be a competent leader for something.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Considering L’Manburg was supposed to be totally destroyed and returned back to the Greater Dream SMP, I’m glad you found someone a bit less self-destructive to help keep you under control. We all know Wilbur did a horrible job at it.” Watching the child soldier stand quickly gave him a certain satisfaction.

“Fuck you, bitch! I don’t need to be told what to do.” Dream watched [y/n] give Tommy a warning look and the way he ignored it.

“And yet you followed someone who lost his own presidential race and blew up his own country before seeking out validation from someone else.”

“I don’t-”

“Tommy.” He watched the blond flinch at the edge to your voice and look down at you.

“He’s saying I-”

“I’m aware. He’s just trying to rile you up. It’s what he does. Ignore him.” The glare they sent him made a sharp jolt go down his spine, but he couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled from his covered mouth.

“Listen to your sibling, Tomathy. At least this one is sane. And if they kill themself, they’ll come back.” Tommy opened his mouth once more to say something before it snapped closed and he released a breath through his nose.

“I don’t need this.” The slam of the door echoed through the now quiet room.

Dream’s attention was immediately back on [y/n]. He watched them square their shoulders and lower their head to look him dead-on. Their glare met him with a hidden fury threatening to break forth and raise the hell that seemed to be just as deeply rooted in them as it was the company they kept. Their lips were pursed in a way that made his own grin grow larger. "Wilbur may not have been the best man. He may have hurt me and put the rest of L’Manburg in this situation. But that is our business alone, and you have no right to say anything bad about him or about Tommy, for that matter."

There was a pregnant pause and he heard George start laughing awkwardly to dispel the tension before being hushed hurriedly by Tubbo.

“And what is it you’ll do to me if I do?” Dream kept his voice level.

“You know why I’m here and who’s behind me. You can use your imagination..” They stood, chair scraping against the floor loudly. “I’m going to check on Tommy.” “But we’re not done!” They stopped at the door, hand resting on the handle.

“I’m sure you can handle the rest by yourself, Tubbo. You know what to do.” They looked at him over their shoulder, before glancing over George and then settling on the man in green. “Don’t you ever speak his name ever again. Or we just might have to build that prison you mentioned. Am I understood?” Sullen nods came from the monarch and the president as they stormed out.

“Well, that was something.”

Tommy had been sitting in the hallway, curled in on himself the same way he had been after the Pit incident.

“Toms?”

“Why is he even here?”

You sat next to him, back resting against the wall.

“Because he cares about George. Kinda like why I was in there for you.” You felt the taller lean against you and relax when you wrapped your arm around him. “I’ll always be here for you, Kiddo.”

You felt him nod and you pressed a kiss to his hair.

“You know I’m not trying to replace Wilbur, right?”

“Of course not. We were like brothers.” His lips quirked a little when he heard your laugh.

“If he were here, I’m sure he’d tell you not to say that or he’d cry.”

“Good. Fucking bitch.”

He didn’t know what he’d do if you never came back.

Tommy knew that the only other person who loved you as much as he did was Technoblade.

Techno had never felt jealous of Tommy before. Or really anyone. He was pretty secure in his position as your best friend, and the vast amounts of platonic affection you showered him with kept him content. Even during the Pogtopia rebellion, watching the looks and touches Wilbur gave you or seeing the child sneak into your bed for another night in a row didn’t make him jealous. So why did he suddenly have the very real impulse to shove the blond off the side off a cliff just to retake some of your attention?

The hybrid watched you talk with your hands as you recounted the night before and your surprise at finding Tommy already there when you came home from Phil’s. He was happy he had been right. You and Philza were similar in many ways and got along well. You would constantly joke with Techno that you were trying to get yourself adopted by the older blond and he would just respond with an amused “don’t tempt him, he might.”. You would always laugh in response.

That was always the best sound.

He listened to your words as he topped off the teacup in front of you with more of the red-tinted liquid. The warm scent of earl grey and roses wafted off of the cup tinged with the subtle tang of the orange peel he had added on a whim. You were right in your suggestion. Citrus always makes deeper teas better.

“If it’s really that bad, the offer to move in still stands. I have more than enough room and you can escape that raccoon.” He snickered at the pout that rested on your lips.

“I never said that I didn’t like it! And don’t call Tommy a raccoon.” He sipped his own tea.

“It’s true. Gets into trash, beady little eyes, a nuisance. He even breaks into your house.”

“He has a key, Tech. It’s different.” You had rolled your eyes at him, but the smile on your face spoke of your fondness for them both. He felt the small well of jealousy in his chest flare. Did Tommy know how privileged he was? He hoped the child knew.

“I’m just sayin’. Whenever you want to leave that place, my door will always be open for you.” He watched your smile soften and the firm squeeze when you reached across the table for his forearm.

“I appreciate it, but Tommy needs me still. Maybe one day, okay?” He grunted at you and you giggled. “Who knows, maybe Phil will come with! He could build his own little cabin and everything.”

“I’ve already extended the offer to him as well. He said he’ll think about it.” You shook your head.

“He’s probably trying to figure out how close to the meadow he’d be in comparison.”

“Man loves the flowers, what can he say?”

“Sure, it’s definitely the flowers.” You sipped your tea with a knowing grin.

“What else would it be?” He watched the glint in your eyes, seeing exactly what Tommy had always said about you. They had seemed a lot deeper lately, more knowledgeable. The child had always claimed that you spoke like you knew more than you let on and he saw it in your smile sometimes, but the look you were giving him right at that moment confirmed it.

“Maybe it’s all the memories.”

He couldn't imagine you not returning the feelings they both held for you, despite the vast difference.

Tommy knew that you wouldn’t hide anything from him unless it was absolutely imperative.

He found you sitting in the living room, curled into an old recliner that you would never tell him where it came from. You felt Tommy haphazardly throw his arms around your shoulders from behind, releasing a small sigh of contentment as he pressed his face further into your neck.

"Hey, Kiddo, what’re you up to?" His grip on you slackened, and you could almost feel his face draw up to a small pout. He absolutely hated that nickname but couldn’t deny the small warmth that flared in his stomach whenever you called him it.

"[Y/n], how many times have I asked you to stop calling me that?" He removed himself from you when you shrugged your shoulders.

"Sorry, Toms, the nickname stays. You're too much of a brat for it to leave." He groaned, eyebrows drawing together. You knew he wasn’t entirely mad at the name. He wouldn’t have whined the way he did if he truly wanted you to stop. You and Tommy seemed to share a wavelength. It wasn’t the same one you shared with Techno, but it was just as perfect. You wished you could tell him why it was.

The realization set a rock that started in your throat and slowly started to sink to your stomach. It spread through you, causing a wet hot sensation to form behind your eyes. You’d never be able to tell your little brother your deepest secret. What if he hated you? What if he told everyone else and they cast you out? What if he felt he couldn’t trust you anymore?

Carefully pulling yourself out of your own thoughts, you looked up at the child. “I’m sorry, what was it you wanted?”

"Can I talk to you?" Your eyes flicked to the book you were reading before back to him. You knew what he wanted. A bookmark was wedged between pages and the room was silent before you stood. "Sure, kiddo. Is it going to be a long chat?" You set off to the kitchen, soon pouring some water into an old kettle that Phil had given you the day that you had awoken. You had been “gone” for over a full day. Aside from Phil, no one else knew what had happened and where you went.

An opaque jar was pulled from the cupboard, carefully opened, and he watched as purple buds, green leaves, and yellow-white flowers were deposited gently onto the mesh cloth that you would tie into a sachet. He had never seen them combine those teas. He didn’t even realize you had such a large jar of it stored.

“What happened at Phil’s?” You hesitated before steadying your hand and pouring the steaming water into a teapot before setting the sachet in. It floated for a moment before you used the string to dunk the bag a few times to soak it before it sank midway.

You only pulled one mug down.

You gestured for him to sit at the table and he took it. You could see the way his anxiety rose even higher when you didn’t sit across from him.

“What day? I’ve been at Phil’s a lot lately.”

“Oh fuck off. You know what day I’m talking about.” You shrugged, trying to keep your expression even.

“I really don’t, Tommy. You’re going to have to narrow it down for me.” Your fight or flight instincts were dialed to high when he gave you a knowing look.

“You don’t have to lie to me, [y/n]. I’m not a child.”

“Yes, you are, and I’m not lying.” You flinched when he slammed his hands on the table, chair screeching as it was slid back with too much force before it fell backwards.

“Then why have you changed?” You froze. “You used to love spending time with me before-”

You wanted to reach out, to comfort him, when you saw his lips quiver, but he turned his head away from you. He couldn’t look you in the eye.

“Before you were gone for almost two days and came back wrong. You don’t talk like how you used to either. It’s like you know things, but like, more than you used to. And come to find out from Ranboob, you had gone to Philza’s house. What did he tell you?”

You just shook your head, wanting to tell him you remembered him. You remembered every timeline he was in. Every moment he had fought for what he believed in and won. Every time he had died. Every timeline he could have died.

“Did I do something? Is it because of Ghostbur? Do you-” He looked back up at you, looking exactly like the sixteen year old he was supposed to be. “Do you hate me?”

“Of course not, Tommy. Why in the world would you ever think that?”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Siblings don’t keep secrets.”

“They do when they’re trying to protect the ones they love, Tommy.” You watched his face grow red in frustration.

“You’re not always gonna be there for me, [y/n]!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Why won’t you just tell me?” His voice broke, and so did your heart.

“Because you’re still just a kid, Tommy. And I think sometimes you forget that. And everyone else too. And I can’t tell anyone what happened.”

“But why? I stopped being a child when we won our first war. I should be able to hear about this!”

“Because the things I saw, the things I heard, no one else should have to bear this weight.” You swallowed back your tears. This was no time to cry. “You can be mad at me all you want, Tommy. But I’m still the same [y/n] who tucks you into bed and links pinkies with you on the Prime Path and who will always be there for you.”

The hurt look he gave you would haunt you for the rest of your lifetimes.

“Then why won’t you let me be there for you?” You could only shake your head.

“Because that’s not how it works, Kiddo.” Tommy’s eyes hardened and he sucked in a quivering breath.

“Fine.” He started walking back towards the door.

“Toms, where are you going?” He didn’t answer you.

His tea was bitter and cold by now, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but feel the same.

Tommy knew all those things about you. So why did it feel like maybe he didn’t know you at all?

#RemembranceAU #dsmp au #dream smp au #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #technoblade x reader #tommyinnit x reader #platonic!tommyinnit x reader #philza x mumza #mcyt x reader #unrequited feelings #tw: death #tw: bombs #tw: arguing #tw: jealousy #angst

[buckyreaderrecs]

Gloxinia

Summary: You’re a witch that helps The Avengers a couple of times. Bucky Barnes finds some sort of happiness and healing in you, and the flowers you surround yourself with. He’s a boy in lalalove. 

 Words: 5,808 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, James 'Rhodey' Rhodes, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), witch!Reader, enhanced!Reader, she/her pronouns for Reader, other characters mentioned but not in scenes, recovering!Bucky, witchy vibes, evil werewolf clones, sassy Sam Wilson, LOTS of flower symbolism, Avengers compound, fluff Warnings: reference to having nightmares but nothing serious My masterlist.

Note: This was written for @the--sad--hatter and her Flowers For My Followers writing challenge. Kara, I love you, and I hope you love this. Also shout out to @vibraniumwitch for being my witchy inspiration always. Also, sorry for probably wrong geography stuff; I'm Australian and don't know shit about New York/Upstate New York loooool.

 Gloxinia

For any of The Avengers to be sceptical of witchcraft seemed, to be perfectly frank, really fucking stupid. Each of their lives had been wrapped up in magic and mystery, so to have them hold back smirks and send mocking glances across the table at each other was not exactly what you had expected.

To be fair, it wasn't all The Avengers making fun. At the head of the table, Steve Rogers watched with curiosity, although he was sure his expression read as neutral. Sam Wilson took the seat closest to you, asking the same question phrased multiple ways.

"So, a witch witch?" "Is it more Sabrina or Charmed?" "Really just making a potion, huh? Like a real life witch…"

He broke the tension, which would have been otherwise unbearable.

Tony Stark, Clint Wilson, and James 'Rhodey' Rhodes had been reduced to acting like teenagers at the mere suggestion of brewing a potion. You'd been hoping for a different audience. Specifically, Wanda Maximoff. She would have believed you. Alas, you had not been gifted your choice in company.

"Alright, Broom-hilda, show us what 'cha got," Tony said, growing impatient.

"Do we really have to drink that?" Clint added, peering into the bowl you'd been mixing things in. "Won't turn our skin purple? Grow an extra limb?"

Rolling your eyes, you held up a plant. "Magnolia, for perseverance. Or, add the petals to a salad for a bit of extra colour," you explained in your best infomercial voice.

Sam snorted, then began to poke around the rest of the ingredients. "What’re the orange ones for?"

"That's nasturtium. For conquest."

When you'd finished the mix, you let it cook over a small, portable heat pad. Modern witch, and all that. Hot off the stove, you poured the liquid into a collection of small, glass bottles.

"Let it cool, cork them, then drink it when you need it," you announced, matter-of-factly.

When Natasha Romanoff had exhausted all of her routes of gathering information, returning with only your name, everyone was close to admitting defeat. The battle was lost, surely, if a witch's potion was the only hope… But Steve wasn't in the business of giving up. He sent Sam to bring you to the compound.

Steve explained that they had located a source of power. Ancient, unstable, highly sought-after power. And even with all their superhuman strength and superhuman speed and superhuman everything, they couldn't get to it. Maybe, though, with what was best described as a performance-enhancing-witchy-substance, they had a fighting chance.

The room looked over the bottles.

"How do we know if it'll work?" Sam asked, picking one up and inspecting it.

"We don't," Tony answered. It was less an attack than a statement of unfortunate fact.

"You'll just have to trust me."

Sam nodded, and watched as you pulled a sprig of yarrow and put it into his bottle.

"Yarrow, for healing," you told him.

"Yeah, ah… Can I grab some of that too?" Rhodey asked. "Falc ain't the only brother without super healing."

 …

"No," 

"But-"

"No. I'm not gonna be a magical drug dealer to-" but Sam cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

"Y/N, Y/N, you got it all wrong! I don't want that nasty nasturtium stuff. Nah, I'm thinking… truth serum?"

"Truth serum," you repeated deadpan.

"Yeah, nightshade," he says nodded and wriggling his eyebrows. He was doing his best 'good kid does extra credit' impression.

"You googling 'truth plant' isn't impressive," you said. That elicited a snort from Sam's companion.

Standing next to him, silent and appearing impatient, Bucky Barnes crossed his arms over his chest. But the snort had dragged him into the conversation.

"And what do you want?" you asked him.

"What?"

"Love spell. Vampire tracker. Or just an easy bottle of truth serum too?"

Bucky blinked at you, then slowly shook his head. "I've had enough serums to last me a lifetime… I'm just here 'cause Steve said you'd kick his ass before you gave him any…magic or whatever," he answered, motioning to Sam.

"So Rogers got all the trio's brains, huh?"

Sam and Bucky frowned in unison.

"Look, we normally just use Nat for this kind of thing. But our guy ain't talking, and we need the information," Sam tried again. "She's out of town, and Wanda's taking a break from getting in people's heads."

Being called in to brew superhero steroids as a once off was one thing… Having the Falcon and the Winter Soldier show up on your doorstep at 11:00 pm was another. However, the men looked desperate.

Sighing, you looked at them. "Fine. Come in. I might be able to help." 

You lead the men through your living room, overlooked by a small kitchen. Their faces told you a lot. "You were expecting a magic cave? Portal to a hut in the middle of a forest?"

"Yeah, kinda," Sam replied, casually shrugging.

"Do you live in a nest?" you asked him.

Bucky chuckled.

"Alright, I get it. The witch thing isn't always literal."

But that's when you pulled a dark purple velvet curtain back, revealing a room you referred to as your office.

"Woah," Bucky whispered to himself.

"Now, see, this is what I'm talking 'bout!" Sam exclaimed, looking around the room in awe.

The small, windowless room was framed by floor to ceiling bookshelves on three of the walls. Stuck between books were trinkets and oddities. Against the fourth wall was a table covered in dried herbs, potted plants, and other things neither Sam nor Bucky could identify.

"Sit," you instructed, pointing to the round table in the centre of the room. There were scorch marks and deep gashed in the wood grain. Bucky traced them with his right hand.

As they pulled out chairs and sat, Sam pointed, "Is that a microwave?"

"For heating potions… and hot pockets," you explained. "So, how much can you tell me?"

"Officially - nothing. Unofficially - your magic juice helped save the world a month ago, so, whatever you need to know," Sam answered.

"Okay. And, none of those C.I.A. psychotropic L.S.D. drugs are real? No secret truth serums invented by Bruce Banner?" you asked, more out of interest than need-to-know.

"If they do, they ain't telling us," Sam said. 

He explained that they had a man in custody. The man knew a date and a location, but he wasn’t cracking in interrogation and time was running out.

"Sounds very spy T.V. dramatic," you mused.

"But it's real life," Bucky said.

"Yeah," you replied, looking at him and his serious expression. "Okay, so what's meant to happen? On the date or whatever?"

"You'll sleep better not knowing that," from Bucky, his expression remaining the same.

You trusted him to gauge what you should and should not know. Nodding, you turned around and began to look for the things you needed. The men watched, leaning over the table when you put things on it.

"I don't do magic on other people. It's a line we don't cross. So, no truth serum. What I can do is try to pull the information you need from somewhere else. Bring it here," you told him.

When you joined them at the table you smiled at their matching faces; furrowed brows and darkened eyes.

"You're sure he knows what you need to know?" you asked. They nodded. "Do you have anything of his?" Sam frowned, shook his head.

Bucky thought for a second, then pulled a knife out of somewhere. "Haven't cleaned this yet. Might still have some of his blood on it,"

"Disturbing, but okay," you said, taking the knife and putting it in the wooden bowl in front of you.

The room went silent as you picked white chrysanthemum petals off a fresh stem and dropped them into the bowl. Begonias followed, then basil. Truth. Knowledge. Success.

"One of you has to be the vessel,"

"The vessel?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. The information needs to go to someone. It can't be me,"

"I'll do it," Bucky offered.

For a second you hesitated, wondering how white magic would work through someone with so much darkness in their past. But that was just it - it was the past.

"You need to wear this," you said, handing him a crown made of blackthorn plant. "It's like, a filter. Brings in good luck, and lets the universe know you're working for good."

Bucky looked at the thing in his hands, slowly putting it on his head.

"Suits you, man," Sam said, smirking. Bucky just shot him a look.

They fell silent again, watching you carefully place a few more things in the bowl before filling it with a liquid poured from a glass jar that looked like it once held pasta sauce. Everything sat swimming but still until you placed a hand either side of the bowl, then it started to simmer. It bubbled and popped and seemed to quickly reduce down, evaporating faster than it scientifically should have. Soon, all that was left was about shot glass worth of black, thick syrupy liquid.

"Where's my knife?" Bucky asked.

"Gone," you replied as you poured the potion into a cup. You handed it to Bucky and he looked at you apprehensively. "Drink it and focus on what you want to know… Think about the guy. And, think about what happens if you don't find out what he knows. Think about it so hard that it hurts."

Bucky nodded slowly but shot the liquid quickly. At first, he just sat there, almost like he was stunned.

"How long-" Sam went to ask, but you shushed him.

Suddenly, Bucky pushed back from the table, standing up and sending his chair flying. Sam followed, holding his arms out like he expected Bucky to fall.

"It's okay," you told Sam. "He's okay."

Bucky's eyes were shut tight, and he held his head, fingers curling around his blackthorn crown. He began to breathe heavily, mouth open.

"Is he gonna spew?!" Sam shrieked in a high-pitched voice.

Taking the empty wooden bowl with you, you stood and moved to Bucky. He went still and mimicked your exact movements of slowly lowering yourself to the ground and kneeling. Sam didn't understand how Bucky knew what to do; you'd not uttered a command.

You placed the bowl between you and Bucky. He leaned over it, and began to cough and pull something from his mouth. It was impossibly long, coming from somewhere deep inside him. He pulled and pulled, letting it slop into the bowl. When it was all out, he spat, then seemingly woke up, falling on his butt and backing away from the bowl.

"What the fuck," he said between heavy breaths.

Sam and Bucky watched you look through the muck and gunk in the bowl, no hesitation to your movement.

"What is that?" Sam asked, truly disgusted. 

You looked over to Bucky, who was looking at the thing intently. He scrambled back over and took it from you. "I know…" he started, looking up at Sam. "I know… everything.”

 …

 You had dropped cutlery three times, but when it was almost midnight and no company had come, you were getting restless. In your office, sat at the table, you shuffled a deck and laid out cards.

The Hanged Man. The Hermit. The Hierophant, reversed. The Lovers.

Then, 11.11 and a soft knock on the door.

Bucky Barnes looked sleep deprived but somehow hopeful.

"I thought I might see you tonight," you told him, opening the door and letting him through. "Were you right? About the date and place?"

"Yes," he said, coming to stand in your living room.

"Good. What do Earth's Mightiest Heroes need now then?"

Bucky looked around. "Do you have any pets?" he asked.

"No. Do you?"

"A cat. Alpine... Thought you'd have one… black cat or something." He wasn't teasing, like Sam had.

"Black cat? Thought you guys were the ones with a black cat?"

Bucky grinned. "Funny. You're funny,"

"Thanks… You're not here for them then,"

"No," he said, walking over to the window where plants were everywhere. "Do you use all of these? For your magic?"

"Most of them, yeah. Like, these ones…" You moved to stand next to him. "They give strength,"

"Snapdragons," Bucky identified.

"Yep. And… Vervain are protective in nature, especially from enchantment." You picked a sprig of the purple plant, threaded it through Bucky's hair, behind his ear.

"What about nightmares? What helps with those?" he asked earnestly.

The room was illuminated by candlelight. A soft orangy glow lit up half his fast, casting the other half into shadow. You turned to him and cupped his face in your hands.

"A tired soldier… Sing him to sleep… A tired soldier… The devil's to keep," you sung gently, running your thumbs along his cheeks. "Sit. I'll brew you tea,"

"Tea?" Bucky asked, a little hesitant to be out of your hands.

"Magic tea," you clarified, rolling your eyes.

Elderflower for compassion and sweet-brier petals for healing. A little poppy and chamomile, and other secrets kept in your family for generations. A dash of Indian jasmine to finish. It glimmered as you swirled it in the teacup.

Bucky was on the couch, sitting up too straight.

"Take your boots off. Lay down," you instructed. He went to protest, probably say you didn't need to put that much effort in. "Please," you said, stopping the protest. "Let me do this."

Bucky followed your commands and took the teacup when offered. He skulled it like a frat boy in a bar trying to impress his mates.

"Now close your eyes. Sleep," you said, taking the empty cup from him.

Kneeling next to the couch, you softly ran your fingers through Bucky's hair and waited until he fell asleep before you moved to your own bed.

He was gone when you woke up.

 …

 "What? No broomstick?" called the unmistakable voice of Sam Wilson.

Standing at the open boot of your car, you looked up and watched him approach, Bucky trailing behind, hands shoved in his pockets.

"You stalking me now?" you asked, clocking the bunch of flowers in Sam's hands.

"Nope. Just waiting for you. Weren't home and we wanted to drop off a thank you, for the helping last week," he said, holding out the bouquet to you.

"So, the information was good?" you asked, pretending Bucky hadn't already confirmed it to you. His late night visit to you a few nights before was obviously not something he'd shared with his friends.

"It was good. You do good work,"

"Thanks," you said dubiously, but taking the flowers.

"We picked those out especially. This one is a gerball-"

"Gerbera," Bucky correct.

"Means 'you are the sunshine of my life' and this one is an orchid, for beauty," Sam rattled off.

"What about this one?" you asked, pointing to the yellow agrimony.

"Buck picked that one. What's it mean?" Sam asked, looking over to Bucky. Bucky was leaning against your car casually. He shrugged, pretended to not know agrimony was the gratitude plant.

"They're beautiful. You didn't have to," you told them, putting the flowers in one of the boxes in the boot of your car.

"You need a hand?" Sam asked, not waiting for a response. He swooped in and collected one of the heavy boxes. Bucky followed, picking up the other.

"Ah… sure…"

You let them carry your things inside, put them on the kitchen bench.

"More witch stuff? Eye of newt? That kind of thing?" Sam asked.

"If microwave popcorn and frozen lasagna is witchy, then ya got me," you laughed. "You're gonna be disappointed if you keep thinking like that, Sam,"

"You say that but I've seen behind the curtain. You're definitely witchy enough,"

"Yeah, yeah… So what do you want? You didn't just come to give me flowers," you asked, launching yourself backwards and up to sit on the bench.

You glanced over at Bucky, who was back over at the window and the plants. Sam clocked you looking, but filed that away.

"We've got an offer for you,"

"When you say 'we,' who exactly do you mean?"

"Us! The Avengers! Superheros!" Sam said, chest puffed out.

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. "Nope,"

"You haven't even heard-"

"No. I'm happy doing what I do," you told him.

"I told you," Bucky chimed in, stopping at a gloxinia, something about its prettiness resonating with him. "What's this one mean?"

"Love at first sight," you said, biting your lip to hide a smile.

"Whatever you do doesn't come with the perks we have," Sam persisted.

"Also doesn't come with anonymity I kinda like,"

"Alright. I tried. Can't promise we won't be back for more help though. Like I said, you do good work... So, this lasagna. Fresh?"

…

 "Well, if it isn't Broom-hilda," Tony said, arms open.

"I hope you're not expecting a hug," you replied, holding your own arms around yourself. Bucky snorted from next to you.

"Brumhilda?! A name derived from Brunnhilde, no doubt. I have a friend named-"

"Yeah, now's not the time for Asgardian tales," Tony interrupted a seemingly very excited Thor.

"Her name's Y/N," Bucky said to Thor.

Thor looked back and forth between Tony and you. "He thinks it's funny," you explained.

"It is. And I am," Tony argued.

You sighed, sat down in one of the conference room's chairs and began to slowly spin on it. "So, what am I doing here?"

When Sam and Bucky knocked on your door before the sun had a chance to rise and shine that morning, you knew it was going to be hard to say no to them. They both looked upset, and Sam was even free from his usual quips. As soon as you saw their faces, you began to nod. "Let me get dressed. I'll come," you whispered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Bucky pulled up a seat next to you, the rest of the room taking the cue and finding their spots around the large table. You recognised everyone, having met most of them. Clint and Rhodey nodded politely in your direction.

"Y/N," Steve greeted, sitting next to Bucky. "Good to see you. Heard these punks have been harassing ya?"

"Nothing she can't handle," Sam cut in, sitting on your other side.

"Truly sorry for them," Steve said, grinning.

You shrugged, looking at Bucky. "They're alright."

Tony cleared his throat. "Whole team isn't here yet, but they're coming… We're going to need all the help we can get."

 ...

 "There's too many of them!” 

"At least they're not evil flying robots!"

"Hey! I said I was sorry!"

"Cap, we've got to try somethin' else. Bullets ain't doin' shit."

"Wanda? Can you-"

"On it."

"Do you need me to go big? 'Cause I'll go big."

"Yes! Mr. Stark, can he go big?!"

From your hidden vantage point higher up the mountain, you watched the battle play out in front of you. Through the earpiece you listened to The Avengers et. al. try to work out what to do. It was true - they were severely outnumbered. The situation was going from bad to worse.

"Jesus!" you yelped as someone almost body-slammed themselves next to you.

"Sorry. Checkin' you're still here,"

"Where else would I be?"

Bucky shrugged, reloaded.

"What are they, Buck? I know a lot about a lot, but I've never seen anything like them."

You took another look through the M22 field binoculars you'd been issued. The monsters didn't look entirely… natural. Maybe, like many creatures of the world, they were made in a lab. They were men pulled apart, stitched back together with pieces of dog and wolf. Their claws ripped through protective gear and flesh like it was nothing, and they could communicate by wordless sound. It was almost howling, but more guttural and less fluid.

"They all look the same," you said.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, noticed that too. Exactly the same,"

"Exactly? Up close? Even the human parts?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at you. "Yep. Clones. What're you thinkin'?"

"Clones..? Um, I don't know… I just… If I can figure out what they are then I can figure out how to help."

Sam dropped down on the other side of you, his wings damaged. He ripped the pack off his back and began to try to repair them. "If I knew we were gonna be out here fightin' fucking werewolves I would've packed the silverware instead of the vibranium."

"Werewolves?" you asked, pulling a small silk pouch from your bag. "Here. Use this to stick them back together,"

"Stick it back together? Y/N. Can't just glue an EXO back together-"

"It's not glue, Sam. It's bumblebee orchid, oak leaf, protea, and a bunch of other things you don't wanna know about," you explained.

"You really questioning her magic? Use her glue,” Bucky ordered. 

Sam huffed but complied. And abracadabra, your witchy sticky goop held his wings together stronger than they were before.

Bucky and Sam stood up, reloaded and ready to rejoin the fight.

"Wait!" you called, suddenly having a thought. "What if they really are werewolves?"

"What?" Sam said.

"Weirder things have happened, right? Werewolves are real. So maybe…" Your voice trailed off as you tipped the entire contents of your bag onto the forest floor.

"Y/N, we don't have time-"

"Gimme a second. I know I have it here,"

"Have what?" Bucky asked, kneeling down and studying the contents of your bag too.

"Aconitum extract… in a bottle… Here!"

"Aconitum?" Sam asked confused and growing impatient.

"Monkshood. Um, wolfsbane. Bucky, are we too far up for you to get one?"

Bucky took your M22s and assessed. "No. Nah, I can get one,"

"Gimme a bullet."

Sam and Bucky watched you dip the bullet in aconitum while uttering any and every luck enchantment you could think of. Bucky loaded his M249 SAW, steadied himself and fired.

The monster went down.

All three of you held your breath and waited. Through the M22s you watched Steve approach the body, check it.

"It's… dead…" came through the comms.

 …

 It had been two weeks since the army of hybrid werewolf clones, so two weeks since you'd last seen Bucky. It had taken days to kill them all. You had to be flown out to find more aconitum extract. From the lab at the compound you were able to work with Bruce Banner to find better ways of delivering the wolfsbane to the clones. Once you had it, it was all over for those motherfuckers.

When everyone else arrived back at the compound, they were exhausted, covered in the thick ash generated by the massive fires it took to burn all the bodies. Bucky was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open, but he mustered the energy to offer to drive you back home to New York City himself. You just sent him off to shower and bed, taking Tony's offer of a ride with one of his minions.

It had been two weeks, then a dream, a vivid and hazy dream. A white cat brought you orange blossoms, carrying a branch in his mouth. "Do you want me to plant this?" you asked the cat, and you knew he would say yes if it could speak. He watched you tend to the blossom, then he disappeared through an open window. You could feel the cool breeze against your skin, felt your hair move.

When you woke, it didn't surprise you to find Bucky sitting next to your bed, back to it and legs stretched out in front of him. The window was open, letting in an unseasonably warm morning zephyr.

"I just had a dream about you," you whispered, ruffling his hair.

Bucky looked up at you. He seemed sad. "Good dream or bad dream?"

"Good. Always good."

He nodded, trying for a small smile. "The fern… It meant I could come in, right?"

"Glad you got the message," you answered. Out on the sills of all your windows, you left ferns. They meant a lot of things - fascination, magic, enchantment, sincerity, and shelter - and you'd told Bucky they were his plant, back when he and Sam came to offer you a job with The Avengers. At the entry points to your home, they were an open invitation for him, a coded welcome mat.

"Didn't want to wake you," Bucky said.

"I'm awake now. What do you need?"

He thought for a moment. He needed a lot of things, many of which you could definitely provide. "Tea? Thought maybe you could mix some for me to take home. Maybe give to the others,"

"I can do one better than that. I can make everyone their own blend. It will be fun. Come on. I'll teach you how," you said, pulling the blankets away and getting out of bed.

Bucky stood, looking a little alarmed. "You don't have to-"

"I know, Buck. But I want to. Come on."

It took all day, but eventually you had packaged up individual tea blends for everyone. Bucky got a stash of his special sleepy tea, and he already looked more rested with it in his possession. You walked him to the door sometime just before 5:00 pm.

"Thank you," he said, quiet and reflective.

"Easy. You're always welcome here. Sam - not so much. But you - always," you told him, leaning against the frame of your front door.

"Might take you up on that,"

"Please do," you said nodding.

Bucky smiled, went to leave, but turned back like he was going to say something. You stood straight, patient. His brain was ticking, thinking something over. Deciding. Then, he moved. Quickly, he stepped back and pressed a fast but soft kiss to your lips. He was gone, literally nowhere to be seen, before you had time to say or do anything.

 …

 The Hudson River sparkled under the sunset. Bucky watched the colours reflect the scene, like one of Steve's paintings. He was lost in a daydream when Sam nudged him.

"Where you at, man?" he asked.

Bucky looked over at Sam and Steve, who were both eyeing him off suspiciously. They'd carried a couple of couches to the roof. Stolen Clint's beer and set up shop for the night. Pizza was on its way.

"What?" Bucky asked.

"You were thinking about her again, huh?" Steve guessed.

Bucky looked back at the river, ignored his friends. They laughed, returned to their conversation.

Later, when Sam had retired to his room, not able to superhuman heat himself, Steve moved over to lounge next to Bucky. He rested his head on Bucky's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"You really like her, don't you?"

"I think I love her," Bucky replied.

Steve laughed at the speed of the response. "I think you might too. All those girls before, and you never really loved any of them... Guess you stuck around to meet her,"

"Seems that way,"

"You gonna do anything about it?" Steve asked.

"Yeah… It's gotta be good though," Bucky said, only then realising the depth of his feelings.

"Wouldn't wait too long, pal."

 ….

 Bucky took you up on your invitation, coming and going from your place frequently. Sometimes, you'd find fresh croissants left on your kitchen bench. Sometimes, you'd find him asleep on your couch. 

How much he needed from you varied, but how much he was willing to give seemed infinite. You had to proactively stop him from becoming some sort of amazing housekeeper slash meal provider.

After about a month, he settled enough to be able to just exist around you. He'd help you pick the right leaves for the teas you made people. He'd disappear into your bedroom when you had clients over, reading their cards while Bucky listened in like it was a television series. It was easy being around him, and you were ready to be patient for a lot longer, but fuck were you itching for more.

The kissing was sweet, but very often brief. Bucky caught your lips in the moments between your magic and his profound awe. You did what you could to encourage him, but knew the ball was well and truly in his court. So, when he ushered you outside one sunny morning, you didn't really have much expectation.

"I thought you'd never ask," you said, face lighting up when you saw Bucky's bike out the front of your place. New York City was buzzing around you, but as soon as you watched him get on and hand you a helmet, you'd never craved the open road more.

All the other times you'd been to The Avengers compound, you'd traveled by air. It was quick. The ride took longer but it was so much better. Having your arms wrapped around Bucky, the feeling of the bike rumbling under you, it was something new, which was all sorts of remarkable. Being magic sapped a lot of the wonder from the world, ironically. Bucky was bringing it back.

At the compound, Bucky took your hand and lead you around the side, not going in. "I've, ah, got something for you," he said.

"You sound nervous,"

"Yeah. If you could just cast up a little spell to get rid of that, it would be great," he said deadpan.

You laughed while looking around for clues to Bucky's surprise for you.

Rounding a corner, it came into view. A garden. A proper garden, complete with white picket fencing surrounding it. It was like something out of Practical Magic, and all your childhood dreams.

"What is this?"

"It's for you. A place you can grow whatever you need. Or want," Bucky said.

In a state of genuine shock, you let go of Bucky's hand and covered your mouth with yours. You had never seen anything more spectacular.

At the single entrance to the garden was an arch. Ivy and honeysuckle covered it completely, like they'd had a lot of time to grow. You pulled a flower from the arch, reaching up to find a full bloom. "Honeysuckle petals are edible," you said, reaching out to Bucky. He let you feed him the flower. "Sweet, like the perfume. They symbolism devotion, or being 'united in love.' Kinda like the ivy on it. Ivy symbolises attraction."

Bucky smiled wide, his eyes sparkling as he watched you walk further in. "We tried to make sections, you know, for the different plants. Like, this part here has sandy soil for the desert plants," he explained.

"We?"

"Got a lot of help from the others,"

"I'll have to thank them," you said.

There were veggie patches and small fruit trees. Almost half the garden was designated to all the types of plants Bucky had seen you use in potions and teas. Dog rose, blackthorn, rosemary, euphorbia, snowdrop flowers, bells of Ireland, and welcoming wisteria. The raised beds were overflowing with plants, just about ready to bloom in an explosion of colour.

"This… This is incredible,"

"Figured your apartment doesn't really have the space. And you're welcome here anytime,"

"I’ll wanna be here all the time." The garden was what your magical ancestors could have only dreamed of. "I don’t even know what to look at first,"

"Well, maybe that," Bucky said, pointing to a birdbath, where butterflies were hovering over the water. The best part though, was a small sign sticking out the ground next to it that read For Sam.

You laughed. "Oh my god,"

"He was so grumpy about it,"

"Shouldn't have named himself after a bird then," you reasoned.

Bucky nodded, grinning. "And we put that bench opposite so you could sit and watch them."

Your eyes were beginning to tear up, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of love and effort surrounding you. "Buck… I just can't…"

"Oh! And, one more thing. This was Wanda's idea. Come on."

Bucky took your hand and lead you through the garden to the back to where a weeping mulberry tree stood in the corner. He pushed through the soft branches, revealing the manicured underside. A green, little cave under the canopy held secret another wooden bench. Bucky sat down, otherwise he'd have to bend. It was the perfect height for you though, but you sat next to him anyway.

From under the mulberry tree you could see the rest of the garden. All the plants swayed in the warm breeze, and the flowers popped bright and happy.

"How long have you been working on this? Some of those are grown well in,"

"You don't need to know any of that. Takes away the magic, don't it?"

"You mean, a magician doesn't reveal his secrets and all that?" you asked.

Bucky shrugged and nodded, leaning back into the bench a little more and putting an arm around you. Snuggling into his side, you breathed out and just soaked it all in. Your mind was caught between racing with ideas of all the things you could do with the garden and plants, and totally turning to blissful mush.

"I know ya never wanted to work with us, but I'm glad Nat found you. Glad I met you," Bucky said, his voice back to being a little bit shaky, nervous. "You've made my life better, you know? Not just with the, the nightmares, but just… everything. You make everything better…"

You knew he wasn't finished, so you stayed quiet while he gathered his thoughts. In the meantime, you threaded your fingers through his, rubbed your thumb along the back of his hand.

"I used to be so good at this," he said, huffing a little.

It made you giggle. "Used to be good at what?" you asked knowingly, sitting up and looking at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Y/N! I'm tryna' tell you I'm sweet on you and you're gonna give me shit,"

"Yeah, I am. I'm also gonna give you shit about the phrase 'sweet on you' too," you replied, laughing.

Bucky smiled, watching you laugh, just happy you were happy. When you stopped, he sat up and used both hands to fold the hair behind your ears. Holding your face in his hands, he tried to not grin like an idiot. He couldn’t hide the smirk.

"I love you. I'm in love with you," he said, voice finally dead certain.

"Yeah, the garden was a bit of a giveaway," you replied, quickly adding, "And that's good. 'Cause I'm in love with you too. Very completely."

Bucky made the kind of expression you'd pull at a basket of mewing kittens, or a puppy tumbling across fresh cut lawn. It was very, very kissable. So, you did want any self-respecting witch would do. You kissed Bucky Barnes like your life depended on it in the secret mulberry tree cave he had made just for you.

 ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

My taglist (open): @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter​ @fairislesheets​ @vibraniumdaisies​ @cristie24​ 

#mine #Gloxinia #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky/Reader #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes/You #Bucky reader insert #Bucky Barnes imagine #Marvel #Marvel fanfiction

[saucy-sapphic]

The Garden Guest

Cordelia Goode x Reader

Summary: It’s a lazy Sunday at Miss Robichaux’s Academy. You and your girlfriend Cordelia decide to do some yard work when an unexpected guest arrives. 

A/n: @make--your--life--spectacular I tried make it as fluffy as I could but I’m also a sucker for a jealous Delia. This ended up being a lot longer than I had expected, but I had fun imagining what a slow Sunday would be like. Writing fics is new to me, so any constructive criticism is welcome. I hope y’all enjoy and if you have any prompts please send them my way!

Word Count: 1455

Warnings: None

It was a gorgeous Sunday morning; the bright New Orleans sun was paired with the slightest of breezes. Everyone in the coven had plans to go out into town or neighboring cities. That is, everyone except you and Cordelia. You and your girlfriend Cordelia savored days like this, days where the two of you got to stay in bed, limbs entangled and breathing in sync. Sweet nothings were murmured while soft kisses landed in exposed skin. The sun streamed into the room and surrounded Cordelia like a halo.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” you whisper as your fingers lazily play with her golden hair.

The giggle that Cordelia lets out is more harmonious than any songbird could sing. “Baby, you’ve said that at least twenty times in the last hour. Keep it up and I might just keep you in bed all day” she teases.

“Whatever the Supreme wants, the Supreme gets” you playfully say before placing a kiss on her lips.

The moment is interrupted by a growling stomach, causing Cordelia to let out a throaty laugh. “Well it looks like the Supreme wants some food. How about we go downstairs and make some breakfast?”

You hum your approval and place another kiss on her lips before rolling out of bed. Heading towards the kitchen, you start the coffee and begin gathering the ingredients to make some omelets. After using the bathroom, Cordelia makes her way to the kitchen to help you. The sight in front of her causes her to pause, she leans against the door frame taking a second to admire you, a smile slowly growing on her face. Cordelia lets her eyes roam across your body, the oversized t-shirt you were wearing covering up the shorts underneath and your hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She walks towards you and hugs you from behind. After placing a few kisses on your neck, she looks over your shoulder.

“God, that smells delicious” she groans out. You let out a giggle, both of you smiling at how slow and domestic the morning has been. The two of you stay like this for a few minutes before Cordelia begins setting the table. She makes her tea and grabs your coffee right as you are plating the food.

After the two of you finish breakfast, Cordelia grabs the plates and begins to wash the dishes. You walk over to her and sit onto the countertop, cup of coffee in hand. Cordelia asks, “what do you want to do today, sweetheart?”

You look through the window and out at the lawn. After taking a sip you reply, “I might go out and cut the grass, it looks like it’s getting a bit long.”

“Perfect, that’ll give me a chance to trim some of the lavender and wisteria. Oh, and I bought some petunias the other day that I have been meaning to plant” Cordelia says while wiping her hands dry.

The two of you head back upstairs to get ready for the day. You call over to Cordelia, who was still getting dressed, that you were ready to head outside. “Delia, do you want me to wait for you?” you ask gently.

“No, its fine sweetheart, you go ahead. I need to grab some stuff from the greenhouse too”, she replies from the closet.

As you begin mow the lawn, you notice someone approaching the gates of the school. She smiles and waves to you as you start to walk over.

“Hi there! My name’s Alice, I live just a few houses away and I couldn’t help but notice you working in your lawn” she says smiling brightly at you.

“My name is Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you” you reach out you hand for her to shake.

Shaking your hand, she bats her eye lashes and asks, “so what’s a beautiful woman like you living in this massive house all by yourself?”

Giggling at her overt flirtation you explain, “it’s actually a school and we house all of our girls here. Trust me there are a lot more people living here, they just happen to be running around probably wreaking havoc around New Orleans”. Both of you begin to laugh at your comment and you see Alice eyeing the garden. “Do you want a tour? It’s spring so most of our flowers are in bloom.”

She offers you a wide smile replying, “I would love that!”

You lead her through the garden pointing out all the flowers and herbs that were growing. The two of you have an easy conversation, laughing at simple jokes. From the greenhouse Cordelia’s ears perk up when she hears the laughter. She goes to the door to see who you are talking to and finds herself feeling slightly annoyed at how comfortable the woman was next to you. She watches the two of you for a minute, rolling her eyes whenever Alice would attempt to flirt with you.

“Wow, these are such gorgeous flowers! I can’t believe you know so much about gardening, I might have to invite you over to teach me a thing or two!” Alice chirps. Cordelia lets out an irritated groan after hearing the woman’s syrupy-sweet voice.

You pick up the garden sheers and go to cut a few of the flowers while saying, “here, let me cut you a bouquet to bring home”.

You hand Alice the bouquet and she takes a step closer to receive them. Placing a hand on your arm she coos, “you’re too sweet! You really didn’t have to do that, sweetheart”.

After seeing this, Cordelia has had enough. She steps out of the greenhouse and plasters a fake smile on her face. As Cordelia walks towards the two of you she notices Alice eyeing her. Cordelia comes up behind you and wraps her hands around your waist. “Hi honey, who’s this?” Cordelia asks in a voice too sweet for your liking, you knew something was bothering her.

“There you are Delia! This is Alice, she lives just down the street. Alice, this is Cordelia she’s – “, but before you can finish your introductions Cordelia cuts you off.

“Y/N’s girlfriend as well as the owner and headmistress of the school”. Cordelia smiles too sweetly, extending a hand towards Alice while keeping the other securely around your waist. You turn your head to Cordelia, curious to know why she was acting so strangely. As you looked into her eyes, that was when it hit you and a smirk began to play at your lips.

Alice’s smile falters slightly as she goes to shake Cordelia’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. You run a lovely school”, Alice mutters.

“Thank you, Alice”, Cordelia replies before turning to look at you. “Baby, I was about to go inside and have a drink, and I was wondering if you wanted to join me.”

“That sounds great! Al – “

But before you could even think to invite Alice, Cordelia quickly comments “it really was a pleasure to meet you Alice. Maybe we’ll see you around.”

“L-likewise, uh-h, thank you again for the bouquet, Y/N”, Alice stutters.

You offer her a kind smile and say, “of course and stop by whenever you want another”. Feeling Cordelia give you a slight tug, you wave good-bye to Alice and head into the kitchen.

Cordelia goes to grab two glasses and pretends to rummage around the refrigerator looking for the pitcher of iced tea. You lean against the counter and a smile begins to form on your lips. “You forgot ‘Supreme’”, you comment nonchalantly.

She pulls out the pitcher and goes to pour some tea into the glasses. “What are you talking about?”, Cordelia asks confused.

“You know when you were telling Alice who you were… You left out that you were the Supreme, the most powerful witch on this planet” you say smiling at her. You see a blush begin to color her cheeks. “You also forgot to tell her that you are the most beautiful woman to roam this earth”, you add as you walk towards her. Once you reach her, you place your hands on her hips, holding her close to you. You place a kiss on her lips, “you know I’m yours Delia, you never have anything to be jealous about”.

“I know” she replies before going to kiss you again. “I just wanted to make sure that she knew it too”, Cordelia punctuates every word with a kiss, ending by sucking a bruise on your neck causing you moan.

“Mmmm… Delia, I think everyone is going to know it now”, you hum.

“Good. Because whatever the Supreme wants, she gets. And I want you, forever and always”, Cordelia states beaming at you.

#cordelia goode x reader #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode #sarah paulson #ahs fanfic #ahs coven #ahs apocalypse #this was honestly so fun to write #like could you imagine cordelia just gardening on sunday afternoon #and then teaching her girlfriend everything she knows about botony

[exodusmc]

Fairy tale

Genre: Fantasy au, slight soulmate au, fluff, angst(if you squint from a mile away)

Words: 3595

Paring: King Junmyeon/neighbour Junmyeon x  reader

Warning!: -

a/n: I really like his new drama! It’s so cute! :)

Gif is not mine

A huff escaped through your lips, hands carrying a heavy box. The elevator had be broken since forever according to the old lady on the first floor, which meant you had to move your stuff using the stairs. 

“Shit..”a book fell out from the box, opening to a page with an illustration of  what looked to be a man, eyes golden and hair of bronze.

Picking up the book, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You had never seen it before, it wasn't yours, but you were alone in the hallway, on one else could have thrown it at you. Studying the image closer, you saw some symbols you didn't understand in the bottom of the page. The man smiled and you couldn't help but to think he looked like a prince from a fairy tale, wondering more about his story. It didn't matter that you were standing in the middle of a hallway, you decided to read anyways. You were met with words you understood as you turned to the next page, words that promised another land.

“The sun shone bright in the sky, the last stars leaving for the time. Butterflies sailed the wind, twirled around. He stood to watch the world he knew, as another pair of eyes gazed from the outside…”

The text suddenly started to glow in a yellow tone, igniting the whole page until more words appeared, uncovered for your eyes to read.

“...But two worlds collided, hearts soared, and a new world opened for the spectator.”

Your sight blurred, the book burning in your hands as you felt every bone break in your trembling body. There was black and nothing else, until white sparked and colored the whole world, not your own, but a different world so bright, you had to squint. 

Your breath was taken away, eyes staring at the wide open land of greens and blues. You were standing under the same sky as the man had been, gazing at the same butterflies. Trees swayed to your right, spaced with enough distance to see through the forest. Your mouth felt dry and your head hurt, everything being too much. How did this happen? What even is this place? It was first when you tried taking a step when you realized that your clothes were different. The blue jeans and shirt you had been wearing was now a light blue dress, simple but with a beauty of spring. You grabbed at the fabric, lifting it as your eyes widened. Were you dead? Was this the after life? So many questions turned in your head, fast and crushing against your skull in a pounding feeling. Your knees hit the soft grass, pupils blown wide at the headache forming, fingers threading through your hair. It was getting so bad, you never heard the soft steppes of another human, before a hand formed in your field of view. Glancing up, your mouth fell open. Ther the man was standing, perfect eyebrows pinched together in worry at you state.

“Young lady..How are you and why are you here, by the moon's home?” his voice was smooth in your ears, hair shining in the sun.”Young lady?”

Your lips pressed together, brain fighting to get an answer out, only to be met with a harsher pounding at your skull. His gloved hands found purchase on your shoulders as your body sagged. 

“How are you, young lady?! Please tell me!”he felt further away, like he wasn't touching you, words sounding like you were under water. The blackness came back, drew stars for your closing eyes, until sleep held you close but not as close as him.”Young lady!”

-

“Call for the healer!”every head was turned in his direction, servants scrambling away, listening to their king.”Fast!”

Junmyeon ran with you in his arms, glancing down every now and then to make sure you were still  breathing. His steps echoed through light teal and green walls, ivy cling through the windows and bring pink flower buds.

“My king, what’s the matter? What’s the rush?”Yixing, his healer, had a worried look on his face, dark orbs staring down into Junmyeon’s embrace.”Who is this lady sleeping in your arms?”

“I do not know, my healer, but her health is declining. We need to save her!”your body was placed in Yixing’s working room, bottles and books coloring the high walls, mixing with warm sunlight. 

“Do not worry, my king, I’ll heal her back to health”there was an uneasiness in Junmyeon’s eyes, orbs following Yixing as he prepared different herbs.”I promise my king, come back when she is merely sleeping..”

The king left, glancing back one last time to see your sleeping face and soft eyelashes. He wondered who you were but was scared that your wouldn't open your eyes once again. His healer was skilled but death was a trickster. A sigh escaped his lips, Yixing’s heavy door finally closing, leaving Junmyeon standing in a quiet hallway. His kingdom was wide and deep but you still held more mystery than it. He was intrigued by you and wanted nothing more than to hear your speak. 

-

Warmth held your body close, made your stir from your sleep. There was still a dull beating at your temple but it was far from the ache you felt before...Before you fainted in his arms. Your eyes flew open, resulting in a blur to your view, but the room cleared, showing stacks of paper and books, potions and what nots. No technology could be seen anywhere and outside the window was thriving natur instead of high grey buildings. You were gaping at it all, slowly feeling like screaming, when the door opened. Another man, taller than the one who held you, gazed right back at you. His face held angles, his eyes were darker than the night, but he seemed warm, the light tanning his skin. 

“Oh, the young lady has woken from her slumber”the way he spoke made your shoulders relax slightly.”How is she?”

“I-I’m fine..”he nodded, smiling wide, and proceed to step into the room. 

“Well that is good young lady. My name is Yixing and I’m the healer under this roof. It’s nice to meet you.”you stared at his dimple, forgetting to answer until his eyes found your again, slightly confused.”Young lady?”

“I’m Y/n..it’s nice to meet you too..”there was unsureness in your words, eyes flickering around, and it made Yixing smile. Your name didn't sound like anything he had heard before and there was something foreign about you, he just couldn't put a finger on what.

“Y/n..well I want to make sure you’re okay…” you knew what he  hinted at, so you nodded in a timid way, blushing. It made him chuckle, moving as if you were a bird, close to flying away.” Fear not young lady I mean no harm.”

Yixing check you, deciding that you seemed fine but that he wanted you to rest and drink one of his brews. You, however, was a little suspicious at the greenish liquid, like you should be, because the healer was a stranger to you, this whole place was strange to you.

“It’s a potion I made for pain and the soul. It’s only herbs grown by the land, nothing dangerous, I promise young lady..”it tasted like matcha and something sweet, something close to raspberries.”See, nothing dangerous.”

“I guess...Thanks Yixing..”he smiled, leaning back to watch you for a moment. The orbs in his eyes were dark, following you, searching through you.

“Lady Y/n..You're not from this land, are you?”once again were you nodding, stress slipping up your spine. You couldn't tell him where you were from, it would make you sound crazy.”Well in our land, the land of the seas and moons, everyone is welcomed!”

Yixing bowed, brown hair staying in place as he stood up. His head was held high and you couldn't help but marvel at his handsomeness. He smiled one last time before he left you alone in the room filled with books, grander than your own little library at home...Home, it felt weird to think about home and your world, like it wasn't real but where you were now was not real, you just didn't know what it was.

-

“My king, let her rest some more now that her health is stable..”Junmyeon’s eyes were wide, his breathing coming out as pants. He had ran to the healer’s room when he got the news of the young lady’s rising but straightened his back.

“If you suggest it to be the best, I’ll listen.” Yixing smiled, walking by the king’s side. Their goal was the garden where many herbs grew, where flowers bloomed. It was a magical place, sprinkled with butterflies.”How is she, my dear friend?”

“The young lady is fine, her body steady..”Yixing turned to look at Junmyeon, standing on grass filled with blue flowers.”But she isn’t from our land..Maybe her birth place is far from us or close but she wasn't born here..”

“I know..”Junmyeon glanced to the side, staring at the window which hid your sleeping body.”The moons told me about someone which I should hold dear to my heart..”

“Oh my king, don't get your heart crushed by the aging moons..”the healer placed a hand on Junmyeon’s shoulder, staring at him with saddening  eyes.”She is a fair one but her life may be on a different path.”

“I know, I know, but why would I feel my heart’s place is in her soft hands?”

-

Your fingers slipped through the soft grass, knees bent as you sat feeling the calm wind. Yixing was to your right, working and scribbling down words, creating a nice sound. You wanted to ask him about the other man but felt embarrassed about it. 

“The young lady is thinking hard..What’s on her mind?”the healer smiled, his question making your cheeks burn. You had been awake for a couple hours now but had been outside for just a short while, watching the brown haired one work. 

“I-I..it’s nothing..”he opened his mouth to answer, eyes warm as the sun over your head, but his words were cut of by a melody. 

Your hair rose at the beauty of the voice singing about souls. He sounded like a rolling river, tones held nicely and perfect. Yixing could see the wonder in your gaze, which was searching for the source of the song. His hand grabbed yours, lead you through the lively garden. 

“Where are you taking me?”you heard him chuckle, turning the corner of a rose wall, just to stop before a towering part of the light castle, where the man was standing. He sang so loud and his words almost had tears slipping from your bottom lashes.

“That’s the lands king, my king, a young lad by the name Junmyeon..”Yixing sat down, urging you to do the same. 

“Junmyeon..”it wasn't a question but the healer still nodded to you, hair bouncing.”..But why is he sing of such sad things?”

“Oh my king has a sorrow song, a melody begging for a hand to his heart and his mouth to kiss lips..A hopeless romantic he is..”Yixing smiled down at you, who couldn't stop staring up at the sining Junmyeon. His voice was clean, flying in the sky on wings of longing.”Maybe a young lady will come and fall in his embrace?”

-

Time went on, the days growing a little more warm. Yixing had been teaching you different things about the land and potion making. He smiled every time your eyes would wided at his statements, but you wondered about the king, where he was or how he was. It seemed like this Junmyeon had disappeared but Yixing knew what was really happening. The healer walked through the arched doorway to the private library of his king, soft daylight falling in through the many windows. 

“Good afternoon my king..”Yixing greated Junmyeon with a smile, eyes following the writing hand.”The young lady has been asking and wondering about your whereabouts..”

A sigh escaped Junmyeon’s lips, pen landing softly on dark wood. He felt his heart jump at the thought of you thinking of him but he was unsure what he should do. The moons had told him about the one he was a part of, about the rightness that was her, but he didn't know what to do, what they wanted him to do. His lands prayed to the moons and the sun, he believed in their words, so he had to ask once more for advice.  

“I’m delighted to hear that but I’m afraid that I can't met her just yet..I need to consult the moons one last time..”Yixing nodded, knowing the reason for his king’s hiding. The moons would be full this night, like they had before the night your soul walked through pages. 

“I see but if I may lay out my opinion, please be careful about lady Y/n away. We don't know how long she stays in our land..”

The healer walked out, leaving Junmyeon to stare out at the scenery which was his kingdom. He had been the ruler for over 20 years but his age had been forgotten and the number was no more than 23, the number when he had been on the throne for ten passing years, and never had something like this happened. The moons had glown yellow, something they never did, and as his eyes stared at them as they formed one sphere. The sun had soon walked over the sky and at the top of the hill had you been, falling into his arms with the moons heart behind your eyes. 

“I’m sorry for my hiding young lady but what can I do when the moons seems to be you?”

   He stared up at the night sky which was blessed with blue hues of the full moons. They shone bright on the hill where he had watched butterflies, where he found you. Junmyeon had questions on his tongue and he would ask them all. 

“Dear moons, you told me once about the young lady and how she would appear under your touch but what am I supposed to do, when my heart speeds with the mere sight of her?”the wind started to sing around him, spoke about how you were from far away but was his just like he was yours. They became louder and louder, until they grabbed at his hair as they told him about his ending sorrow. 

And just like that, in the span of one second, had they stilled. The winds were soft, so soft he could hear the grass being pushed down. Junmyeon glanced over his shoulder, seeing your make your way through the field to where he was standing, the whole time bathing in the moons light. 

“Yixing told me I could find you here…”there was shyness in your voice, there was warmth on your cheeks.”..he said I should come see you.”

Junmyeon smiled, feeling his own body heat up. Of course his healer would do something like that, having wanted his friend to be happy for years. You stared at his eyes, watching them become gold. Soulmates was a thing in stories and fiction, they weren't real, but gazing at him was making you unsure because he felt like he belonged to you and you to him. 

“I see young lady…”you hadn't heard him ever since he caught you but as he spoke now, your realized that you loved his voice and Junmyeon was happy to hear you speak, the tones of your words.”..i must apologies for not welcoming you like I should. I’m sorry my lady.”

“It’s okay..I don't blame you”a star fell over your head, mirrored in your orbs, and it was like the final puzzle piece falling into place in Junmyeon’s world.

“Oh, but I do insist on making it up to you, young lady. Will you follow me to the dazzling tops?”his hand felt smooth as he took it, leading your through knee high grass with the two moons over your heads. 

Your gaze found their way up to the dark sky and unlike your world, did it have two blue moons in its hands. You marveled at them but ultimately forgot when Junmyeon threaded his fingers with yours. The world became a blur and all you could focus on was his bouncing hair.

“Here we are lady Y/n, where the sky meets the ground..”he sounded breathless and you understood because before you laid hills with flowers or something which shimmered like the stars. 

You stood to his right, just staring at everything, the differences from your grey and dead world. Junmyeon, however, was watching your face shine with happiness, making his lips point upwards. You were so beautiful in his eyes and he wondered how he managed to keep away from your soft touch. He suddenly took both your hands and twirled you to the sound of a world from fairy tales, swept you around with his gaze lock on yours. Your heart soared and flew with his across the breaking point of the sky, let you dance on the ground with lightness. 

“If you agree, I would like to know you and your soul. I would like to hold your fingers until the end brings us home…”he stopped with one hand in your and the other on your waist, orbs searching through your.”...Can I ask all that of you my lady?”

“..Yes..”it didn't matter that this was just a dream in your head, that this wasn't real, because it felt right with his hand on you and the promise of time.”I would like that..”

-

“Junmyeon!”your shriek made Yixing run down from the upper garden, eyes wide and a puff leaving him when he finally got to you. But you were giggling on Junmyeon’s lap, his fingers tickling your sides as his lips smiled. You were in no danger, you were happy. 

After the night you danced with Junmyeon hadn't he been able to keep away from you, always holding you with his hands or eyes. It was like you were in your own little fairytale, love and a vibrant world surrounding you, but an end would come. 

The time went fast and soon had you been by Junmyeon’s side for over a year, dressed with flowers and a ring of silver. He would hold your hand under the moons and the sun, he would kiss you every time he could, he made you breathless. Shortly were you walking down an aisle of white, meeting him at the end. He kissed you once again after your promises had left your tongues, dragged you away from the castle and into the forest. Junmyeon took you dancing again but this time as his wife with his heart. In a blink of an eye were you no longer a young twenty year old living in a small apartment but a forty year old running through halls dripping in light, your hand either holding Junmyeon’s or your child’s soft one. You had a family now, blessed with their laughs. Your husband smiled down at your sleeping face, stroking over your cheek when he saw the moons glow yellow, like they had all those years ago, but now was he scared. He felt dread fill his whole being, eyes glossing over. His soul knew, so he kissed your cheek one last time, whispering a heartbreaking I love you and let his tears run free. In the morning would you no longer be in his arms but where you came from. Junmyeon would love you for eternity, just like you would, even when your universe called you back, away from his warm embrace.

-

You fell against the wall, a wall which was greyish yellow, old. There was a buzz from a world you hadn't been in so long but as your gaze became clear and you glanced around, did you realize you were back and not a day over 20, like no time had passed. The book felt heavy as you held it, your story with Junmyeon written on all the pages, the story which weren't real. Tears slipped down your cheeks, a feeling of emptiness filling your broken soul. You were happy there but was ripped away, forced from him and your little child. Low sobbs echoed through the hallway, your fingers shaking. This was not how it was supposed to end, you were supposed to be with him until you died, not thrown back to this dull life. Just when you were sure of a ripped page in your fairy tale was the door of apartment 5 opened by none other than Junmyeon. Your orbs found his, those golden worlds, but his hair was black now. 

“Are you okay?”he didn't speak like your Junmyeon but he sounded the same, his fingers felt the same as he dried your tears.

“Y-yes..T-thank you..”the lie burnt your mouth and made him smile exactly like your king from the pages.

“I don't believe you..”he sat by you and smelled like Junmyeon, he was Junmyeon but not the fairy tale one, no, he was the real life one, your Junmyeon.”..So I’ll stay because two moons shine brighter, right?”

#junmyeon x reader #suho x reader #EXO junmyeon #fantasy au #fairy tale au #soulmate au #suho au #suho fluff #Exol #exo yixing #exo senarios #kpop fanfic #kpop #EXO baekhyun #EXO Jongin #exo chanyeol #exo kyungsoo #exo sehun #exo jongdae #exo minseok #my heart is feeling big

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Married at first sight AU part 4

A/N: I’m so sorry it took me so long to add another chapter! I’m thinking about applying for a writing course in college so i would really appreciate any honest opinion about my writing!

Summary: It’s time for Eddie’s part of the home-stays. Unfortunately, this also means that they’ll have to visit Sonia.

warning: there’s one sex joke in this (it’s Richie) and Sonia is in this so mental manipulation

@impalagurl67​  @juhavs​  @werenotinhawkinsanymore​ (sorry if you guys didn’t want to be tagged anymore) 

About five weeks into the experiment, Eddie is ready to call it quits. Not because Richie and him aren’t working as a couple, they are, really well actually, but because Eddie made a grave miscalculation.

He has long abandoned his own promise to leave the program as soon as possible, instead cherishing every date he and Richie go on that is paid by the production, spending more money on one date than Eddie has done in all his previous get-togethers ever.

It helps that for now they are in their own little world, away from every stress point of the daily life, in a place where they only have to focus on each other. He’s not ready yet to have to go back to work, or to move away from Richie, with him living in New York, and Richie residing in Chicago. Richie made him fall hard, and now he doesn’t think he ever wants to go to a house without him, for that house would not be a home.

As per consensus, Richie and him agreed on staying right until the week before the homestay at Eddie’s to avoid having to go and live with Sonia. The thing is, neither of them really kept track of what week they were on, for days in the same place blended together rather easily, or what the next would bring, not while they were having so much fun.

There’s no one else to blame but his own stupidity for that error, since they days before the commitment ceremony, they went to Richie’s homestay. It was only natural that Eddie’s followed. When that was revealed, Eddie and Richie looked at each other in shock, both of them cursing their obliviousness and forgetfulness, but by then, it was too late.

Suggesting that they forfeit anyway, Richie tried to help as best he could, but Eddie refused to do that, claiming it would portray them as a bad couple, and he wasn’t up for that; Richie deserved better than that. Not to mention his career. If they were to call it quits now, an explanation was obligatory, and that might result in reputation damage. For someone who worked in the business Richie did, that was not permissible.

That’s why they find themselves in a plane with destination New York, Eddie gripping Richie’s arm tightly, praying to whoever was up there to help them make it through the week. One might argue that Eddie isn’t forced to go see his mother, it’s only the home-stay, which means go to your own home, and Eddie wouldn’t have gone to her, if she didn’t live with him.

The last time they were on the plane, only days prior to this, their moods had been significantly better, Eddie full of anxious excitement at the prospect of meeting the people he had heard so much about.  

Maggie and Wentworth Tozier lived in a fairly small house, only 30 minutes away from where their son lived, with a medium sized garden filled with all sorts of flowers and herbs. It may not have been as big as Eddie’s house was growing up, nonetheless it exhibited a warmth and serenity, the flowers and spices creating scents that lingered every time they entered the backyard, a welcome aroma that greeted them.

Maggie loved to bake, roping Richie and Eddie into baking one with her and bonding, while Wentworth set the table, and showed them his collection of Richie’s comedy specials, disks all neatly combined in one folder.

Their support in everything their son did was heartwarming, but it also pushed Eddie out of his comfort zone, made him feel out of place. He didn’t have that sort of support system, and he was clueless on how to act around parents who did.

Richie assured him that his parents adored him, and Eddie believed him, mostly since he was completely amoured by them too, and he hoped that they deemed him good enough for their son.

Right after dropping by his parents, the two of them went to Richie’s home. His apartment was the same size as Eddie’s in New York, the only difference being that Eddie’s was much neater, not filled with so much unnecessary stuff and memories. There were a lot of pictures, most of them of Richie and his parents, and the friends he made during stand up, but also a few of a dog he once owned as a kid.

The pictures forced Eddie to think about his own apartment, bare of anything that made the place him. He only had one picture, and that was the photograph that was taken when he was thirteen with his mom coiling him in her grasp, scolding when he didn’t smile bright enough for her liking.

He listened to her, as he always did, the smile more manufactured than her figurines she bought from China, but he remembers how much he longed to be in his room so he had the change to cry in peace, helpless and stuck while she controlled him like a puppet. He swore to himself that day that he’d stick up for himself, and defy her, but his rebellion only lasted a month, before he realized that it did nothing but cause her claws to stick in deeper, and stealing the little freedom he had.

He’s ashamed of himself for living with his mother, and for allowing her to wring her way back into his daily life like he needed her to be there for every decision, but it’s hard to be brave when you have no one else to fall back on. He never had a reason to fight back, but with Richie, he has found one.

His idea was to talk to his mother after the show, keeping his foot down and demanding her to move out, but since the wedding, he ignored every single call his mom made, convincing himself that he needed a little bit of extra time to gain the courage.

Because he dropped of the grid and didn’t contact her in any way, he understood that he needed to call her, at the very least to let her know Richie and him were coming.

However, Richie and him hopped on a plane first thing after a meeting with the experts, leaving him with no time at all to warm his mother about their arrival, and without a proper conversation between the two of them.

He’s certain, that as soon as Richie walks over the threshold, she’ll chew him up, and then spit him out like he’s a filthy piece of dog shit. And god damnit Eddie is sick of her being allowed to do those things without any consequences. Someone should say something about it, and that someone should be him.

The whole trip, he divides his time between prepping Richie for the monster that his mother can be if she opts for it, thankful that the cameras are nowhere in sight, and assessing every possible outcome to prevent a huge blowout from occurring.

He will address her about her behavior, just not on television broad cast, so he’ll try the whole week to appease her, without throwing Richie under the bus. That’s a slippery slope to ride on.

His husband, for five weeks already yet the word still causes him to brighten up, is animatedly practicing for his next movie roll, and cracking jokes, attempting and achieving to mollify some of Eddie’s fears away.

‘Hey Eddie Spaghetti, how much you want to bet that I can indulge this whole sandwich in one bite?’

‘If you even try, I’ll leave you on this plane all by yourself.’

‘Auch, dully noted.’

His mother may be a horrible person, but this time he won’t have to face her alone. That also is reason for concern be as that may, because even despite the fact that Eddie told Richie all about his mother, there’s a whole lot of difference between hearing about it, and seeing it in the flesh.

Though he obsesses and over analyses every possible outcome of his sudden appearance with his mother, he is taking aback by her reaction none the less. Knocking on his front door, after ensuring Richie to take everything that comes out of her mouth with a grain of salt, the sight of her tight-lipped smile emerges.

She’s wearing the same dress she wore on the day of the wedding, the door clenched in her fists, glancing at them with glare she is careful to keep hidden from everyone who is unfamiliar with her. It’s one of her specialties, to mask how much hell she’s about to bestow upon Eddie towards other people.

Eddie immediately knows that she is livid, and by the hand that falls on his lower back, he can tell Richie understands it too.

‘Come in Eddie-bear’, she invites them in, as if the flat isn’t registered in Eddie name instead of hers. Eddie allows himself one more moment of hesitation, before faltering inside.

The minute he steps in, he wants to run back out. The walls metaphorically close in on him, like he is going to buried under the concerns and scrutiny of his mother, hiding him from every real love he could ever hope to get.

It’s torture, and he fights against every instinct in him to stay put. The place has been under his name for six years, and when he first bought it, he associated the place with new beginning and freedom, causing him to happily skip home after school every day. He discovered what kind of person he is here, what his personality entails, and he despises the fact that, just like with everything else, his mother took this away too.

His knees start to get a little weak, and Eddie thinks he might pass out any second, until Richie comes up beside him, his arm thrown over his waist and allowing Eddie to lean his weight on him, all his muscles relaxing after being cramped up in fight or flight mode.

A feather-light kiss is pressed to his forehead, Richie’s body shielding him from the camera and Sonia’s havoc eyes for barely a minute, but enough for Eddie to compose himself.

‘Hi miss K, I’m Richie.’ The greeting is one that is so unlike Richie that Eddie comes close to calling the whole thing off, his heart bleeding with the need to protect and preserve everything good about the man who is goofy and kind-hearted.

‘Richard,’ Sonia allows with a curt nod, inching her body away from Richie when he tries to hug her as a salutation. He doesn’t let it get to him, Richie’s polite smile remains on his face, determined to prove to her that he is above all that pettiness that she’s displaying.

The camera man shuffles closer, presumably zooming in on Richie’s face, gauging his reaction. Her attempt to conceal her distaste is not working effectively, but that is the opposite of a problem for the tv-show.

People eat drama up, and this will be no different, except that Eddie is now the one they’ll be gossiping about behind his back. A shiver rolls over his body, annoyance prickling the back of his neck. It’s easy to forget the cameras are rolling when he’s enjoying Richie’s company, but the reality that others observe them and every move they make is under scrutiny, is infuriating.

‘Oh Eddie-kins, it’s been so long since I’ve heard of you.’

She attempts to embrace him, but he only allows if for a second, detangling them to create more space between them. A mother touch should provoke a feeling of safeness, of care and love, but Sonia’s hugs always made it feel like tiny bugs crawled their way across his body, and no amount of whipping would ever get them off of him, and he avoided them at all costs.

Try as he might, he can’t fight the need to practically fall on his knees and apologies to her, his earlier determination about standing up for himself slipping away like water between his hands. He manages to shrug in lieu of it, but only by the skin of his teeth.

‘You look so skinny,’ she adds, true to form already doing her very best to poison his mind with the ideas of him being unwell. ‘I’ll bring you something to eat too.’

She spurns Richie, failing to ask him if he needs anything, marching to the kitchen.

Eddie grabs Richie’s hand, their finger interlocking while he catches the reassuring smile Richie gives him. ‘Wanna go see my room?’

‘Oh kinky Eds, and the first time I’m visiting too? I didn’t peg you for such a guy.’

With a gentle push of expiration and an accompanied eye-roll, he drags them over to his bedroom, the only space in the apartment that holds any worthwhile to him, or at least the a box hidden under his bed does. He guesses his mother will be busy with her tea , the one that Eddie has such a distaste for he almost dry heaves every time he takes a sip of, for a little while so they have a bit of time to spare.

The bedroom door remains open so the camera crew can pile in after them, their equipment enough to block the door from his mother’s prying eyes.

He crouches down on the floor in order to grab the box, pausing to really think things through, and then takes out just the picture, the lone one that was taking of both him and his father, previous to standing up, and joining Richie on the edge of the bed.

If he wants to relationship with Richie to work, he needs to reveal everything about him, including the parts that have yet to be healed, but he rules out that conversation until they’re alone.

There were more stuff in the box that belonged to his father, but those aren’t as important s the picture.

The photo gets muffled away out of sight of the camera, saved for a time when all the production crew has gone to bed.

His intent was to show Richie around the rest of the apartment, but the tea is prepared faster that he had foreseen, so he backlogs his plans, and they move to the living room.

His mother has, gracefully, packed a third mug, which she fills to the brim with her disgusting beverage, and offers up to them.

While Eddie and Richie choose the seat next to each other, his mother sits opposite to them, the tea sloshing on the table as she swirls it. Inwardly, Eddie cringes, the need to clean it up presenting itself with such a velocity that his hands shake.

‘So Eddie, talk to your mommy. How have you been?’ Eddie is muddled over her behavior. On the one hand, she is much calmer than he expected her to be, but on the other hand, he knows better than to let his guard down around her.

‘It’s been great mom, I’m really happy that I got paired with Richie’, he remarks. He’s being intentionally vague, as to not give her any ammo to verbally attack them with.

From the moment they stepped foot into the flat, she disdains Richie, never once addressing him, and it’s starting to get on Eddie’s nerves. He almost wishes she would scream, so sheltering himself and Richie is an option, whereas now it feels like he’s waiting for the punchline to drop.

‘Oh yes, Richard.’ The malicious sneer has resumed it’s place, her eyes squinted together as she leers at Richie. Richie’s posture shift, his body ridging but his mouth still firmly shut, biting his tong. The fact that Richie refrains from any sort of humor, or talking in general, leaves Eddie unsettled and on edge. He doesn’t like it, and the absence is an experience he’ll avoid as much as possible in the future.

‘What have they been feeding you Eddie-bear? You are so skinny. It’s not good for you you know, staying away from home for so long. Are you homesick? Is that why you’re barely eating?’

Embarrassment tints Eddie’s cheeks bright red, her treatment of him not unlike that five year old, condescending in the worst way.

The penny drops, and Eddie all at once understands what her game plan is. She’s trying to manipulate the situation so that it seems like Richie isn’t a good husband or partner, both for the tv show, and for Eddie.

She must have known that demanding Eddie to come home would have only resulted in him turning his back on her even more, so she ventured to do it in a different way.

‘Eddie is perfectly fine, misses K, his abs and frankly the rest of his body can vouch enough for that.’ Richie laughs, but the joke falls flat and dies out at the hard stare he receives. Tittering awkwardly, he clears his throat.

‘He isn’t homesick either, in fact, he told me that he loved to travel, he’s fine,’ Richie defends him, their legs locking under the table, not in view of the camera’s and his mother.

‘Even so, I’m very essential to my sons life, Richard. If you even consider being part of his, I come with the territory.’

‘Eddie is perfectly cable of being by himself, he doesn’t need anyone. Are you sure that it isn’t you that needs him?’

Sonia jumps up from her seat, her lukewarm drink spilling over the top and dripping of the side. She turns pale, her whole visage drained of any color, so utterly devoid of any other emotion other than enragement.

‘Do you hear that? Do you hear the way he speaks to me?’ She screeches to the lens-man, who blinks sheepishly at her, finding her outburst rather strange., as there was barely any provocation. The man glimpses at Eddie and Richie, who remain quite, and he follows their lead.

‘Eddie, force Richard out of here, he is no longer welcome. I won’t accept someone talking ill about me.’

‘He is mom’, Eddie states, his voice trembling somewhat, although the words don’t lack conviction.

‘Excuse me?’

‘This is my home, and you’re powerless to decide who comes through those doors.’ The camera is glaring right in his face and he is tempted to push it away, which is almost the perfect outlet for the anger he’s experiencing, but he’s better than that.

‘Eddie-bear’, she chuckles uncertain. ‘I’m just trying to look out for you. You’re delicate honey, and people like him,’ she spat at Richie, ‘will derail your mind.’

Scoffing, Eddie rises from his chair as well, establishing eye contact to assert dominance.

‘He won’t. But even if someone would try, they wouldn’t succeed.’ The picture in his pocket calls his attention, and his hand wonders into the pocket to touch it for a second, drawing strength from it.

‘Not anymore.’

Sonia gapes, her mouth opening and closing, unbelieving that her sweet, innocent boy said such a thing to her.

‘We’ll talk more when I get back, me and Richie are staying in a hotel tonight.’

He denies her the chance to reply and ruin the day even more, trudging outside with as much confidence he has. Richie says something to Sonia, out of hearing shot from Eddie, before he too, falls into step beside Eddie.

‘I’m sorry that this home-stay turned out to not be such a ‘home’-stay after all,’ Eddie apologizes, using air quotes on the word home.

‘Hey, Eds it’s fine. I don’t care where am I, as long as it’s with you.’

The blush returns, now for a whole different reason.

#reddie #reddie fluff #My writing #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #eddie kaspbrak imagine #richie tozier imagine #it chapter two imagine #it chapter 2

[thosequeenboys]

Love Is Love Is Love (Ben Hardy x Joe Mazzello) - Chapter 2

A/N:  This story started as one shot for the Hardzzello Week “Missing” prompt - Missed (link below). The story unfolded as a series, which I named after a phrase in Lin-Manuel Miranda’s 2016 Tony acceptance sonnet that paid tribute to the victims of the Orlando, FL, night club shooting. Because of my commitment to gay marriage and LGBT rights I wanted to share a story of family joys and challenges through them.

Chap. 1:  Missed  

Summary, Chapter 2:  Puzzled:   Ben and Joe learn new information about Alex, and Joe receives a surprise that promises to complicate their lives.

Warnings:  Doctor’s visit for a check-up; angst

tagging: @warriorteam1924 @heybuddy-drabbles @oniriquex @igotsuckedintothevoid @watercolouredreams @roger-taylors-car @nightoftheland @lapofthemusicgods

The new year unfolded, and the days became longer demarcated by pink, lavender and gold sunsets. Their lives felt pretty stable and had a certain rhythm. Joe was serving as a consultant on a Netflix show, which required travel to LA a week each month.  With his own next gig requiring intense travel slated for later in the year, Ben cherished watching winter slip into spring on walks with his trusty, observant companion by his side, touching the cracked ground where bulbs sprouted, watching birds build nests and smelling flowers.   On a mid-March afternoon that was remarkably spring-like, Ben and Alex returned from playgroup, though this walk was silent and tense.  As they entered home, Joe was wrapping up a call.  

“Alex, how about watching some PBS?”  Ben said, entering the living room and turning on the TV. “Dad and I need to catch up on boring grown-up stuff.  I’ll bring you a snack in a few minutes.”

“OK”, Alex said, knowing he didn’t have a choice and that the ‘boring grown-up stuff’ probably included him. Before Ben left, he tried to change their dynamic by running his hand through his son’s hair.  “Alex. I love you.” Alex gave his dad a side glance, feeling lingering sadness from their earlier interaction when his dad was mad at him, but relieved to hear his dad’s affectionate words.  

Ben sat at the island counter in the kitchen facing Joe who had moved to the other side of the counter, peeling and cutting vegetables for chicken cacciatore.  

“So that thing happened at playgroup.”  Ben looked up at Joe.  Joe felt his chest tighten.  Again? He knew where this was going; they had been there before.   Ben sighed and continued:  

“The toys were laid out on the floor, and he and the other kids were playing.  It was going really well.  They were talking, and he seemed into it.  I thought, ‘Finally! He’s getting how it should be.” Suddenly he went over to the bookshelf and started looking on the shelves.  He pulled out a puzzle box.  I said he had to put it back; we can’t take things without asking. I told him we weren’t playing with that today.  He clutched it and refused.  He sat down with it, and when I tried to take it, he pulled it away. He actually scowled at me.  I gritted my teeth and told him to give it to me. I had smoke coming out of my ears, but I tried not to make a scene.  Fortunately, Becca, you know Georgie’s mom who was hosting, came over and said Alex could look at the puzzle - it belonged to Georgie’s older brother, Jeremy.  I thanked Becca and asked Alex to thank her too, which he did.”

“So, he dumps it out. Ok, so no surprise there.  But then he starts his sorting thing, and he’s holding up the pieces to the box in front of him and I’m kind of trying to block him, listening to the other parents.  And, he starts putting pieces together, making the border, and suddenly, one of the moms sees it and, like, gasps.  “OHMYGOD, Ben, he’s doing THAT puzzle?’  Then everyone starts looking.”

“We’re all always comparing notes:  What are the kids eating and not eating? What classes are they taking? Who’s looking at pre-schools?  It’s supportive, but everyone’s trying to make sure their kid is, you know, ‘on track.’”  

“Yeah,” Joe nodded, switching knives to cut up an apple. “My sister told me all about that.  It can get ugly.  Some parents brag, and parents whose kids are at a different stage try not to freak out. You can feel the anxiety bubbling up. Sometimes it’s just better to talk about politics, honestly.”  

Sighing, Joe plated the apple slices and spooned some peanut butter on the side of the plate.  Ben grabbed the plate and the water bottle. He slid off the stool to deliver it to Alex. Joe started to build the dish, sautéing peppers, carrots, onions and garlic.  After they softened, tomatoes, wine, stock and chicken would join the party.

Returning, Ben continued. “So, I just brushed it off. Talked about his older cousins teaching him, how he tries to copy them, you know, he just fools around and gets lucky.  Then it was time to leave.  He only did a little of the puzzle.  Jesus, it was like 50 pieces.  I said we had to clean it up.  He was all with the ‘no’s’, but finally I glared at him – I swear I almost lost it - but he relented.  I feel so out of control when this happens and not sure what to do.  And, Alex gets laser-focused and detaches. I had to tell him to say good-bye and thank you.  I could tell he was still thinking about that fucking puzzle as we were saying our goodbyes….”

Joe stopped chopping the basil and put his knife down, wiping his hands on a towel. He ran his fingers through his hair.  “He is who he is.  And we shouldn’t be too surprised about his laser-focus -- and his smarts -- knowing his two sets of genes,”  Joe said, with a wink, before continuing, “You handled it well, Babe. Really well.   You shouldn’t feel defensive.  We need to figure out how to deal with this.  Take him for the check-up… better late than never.”

Suddenly Alex came in holding the empty plate and bottle.  ‘Hey, Buddy,” Joe said.  “The chicken is almost done.  Want to finish it up?”  

Alex nodded. He went over to Joe who took the plate and bottle and put the stool in front of the stove, helping him up.  “OK,” Joe said, pointing to a pile of chopped greens on the cutting board.  Here we have some basil and parsley.”  Alex grabbed the greens and sprinkled them into the pot.  Joe handed Alex the wooden spoon and he stirred them in, as he planted a kiss on his son’s neck.

A week later they were in Premiere Pediatrics, and the medical assistant took Alex into a small room. Ben and Joe waited outside. She tested his vision, and they overheard her asking him about colors and numbers but they got into a discussion and didn’t pay attention.  

Suddenly, the assistant tore past them and approached the doctor down the hall, showing him the paper in her hand, as a nurse quickly escorted Alex and his parents to an exam room.  

Joe helped Alex undress and put on the robe.  He whipped out a book, Ocean Creatures, from his backpack. Alex settled into his lap and Joe started the story.  They got halfway through the book and in walked Dr. Herbert “Call Me Herb” Markman, holding a slim file in his left hand.  

Dr. Markman was there from the beginning.  Before the beginning. Ben and Joe had to have a local pediatrician vouch for their sincere interest to be parents and their stability.  And they had to show there was a doctor at the ready as soon as the baby arrived.  When Joe called the practice and asked for an experienced doctor, explaining the situation, the receptionist set up an appointment with Dr. Markman right away, noting he was the most senior member of the practice.  A Google search showed they hit the pediatrician lottery: degrees from Ivy League universities; a professor at the local Medical School; a successful researcher; and a former President of the American Society of Pediatrics.  As a person, he was warm, calm and conversational. As a doctor, he was thorough, smart and sensitive to both his young patients and their over-concerned parents. At their first meeting, Dr. Markman insisted they call him Herb, but Joe and Ben settled on Dr. M. To keep the relationship on an equal playing field, Dr. Markman followed the more formal naming convention.

“MR. JONES-MAZZELLO!” Dr. M. greeted Alex like a long-lost friend.  “So nice to see you!  You’re here for your 2-year check-up, I see. Let’s get you up on the bench. He patted it and helped Alex up.  Then he turned and offered a warm nod and outstretched hand, “Mr. Jones.  Mr. Mazzello.”   He placed Alex’s file on the desk.

Ben chimed in somewhat guiltily, “Actually, we missed the 2-month mark. He’s almost 2 and a half now.”

“No harm, no foul.” Dr. M. responded with a reassuring smile as he applied hand sanitizer.  

Dr. M. addressed his patient.  “Alex, are you having any concerns about your body, anything hurt?  Anything you want to ask?”

“No, thank you. I’m well, thanks.” Alex replied.

The three adults laughed. Ben beamed, proud at his politeness.  

“Good to hear.” Dr. M. commented. Turning to Joe and Ben, Dr. M. asked, “Any concerns? How’s he been?” Any more high fevers?”

“No, no fevers. Thankfully.” Joe said.

“He’s fine, seems good, really.” Ben added.

“Is he good, really or really good?” It was a play on words, a rhetorical question, but Dr. M. was on to something.   “Ok, let’s take a look.”

He examined Alex thoroughly, prodding his organs eliciting a stream of giggles. He checked his heart, ears, eyes, blood pressure, spine and reflexes, making notes on his I-pad as he went along.

“All good!” He said.

Dr. M. opened the file folder on the desk and pulled out the report the medical assistant handed him earlier. He went over to the shelf that held some books and games and pulled out 10 black checkers.  “As I put these down, Alex, can you count them for me?”  Alex counted 1 through 10 as the checkers were placed on the exam bench. Then, Dr. M. picked a few up and asked him the total number remaining on the bench. Then he put some back, asking for a total.  He did this a few more times, moving quickly.  Alex hesitated at times, thinking it through, but didn’t get flustered. Joe and Ben looked on with awe. Was he really adding and subtracting?  Dr. M. collected the checkers and put them aside on the bench.  

“What did you think of that?” He asked Alex.

“Fun!” Alex said.  

“Good to hear we have a satisfied customer.   We always try to provide patients with some fun during visits.” Dr. M. said, typing into his I-pad and winking at Joe and Ben, making it clear that round of ‘fun’ was not offered to most patients at their 2-year visits.

“So, what do you like to do, Alex?”  Dr. M. asked.

Alex thought for a minute and answered, “The library.  We take out lots of books.  I like ocean animals.  And gymnastics. I like to sommersault.  And parachute lift - some of us run into it, and we have to run back before it falls on us!” Alex smiled, sitting up straight, swinging his legs, picturing the activity.  

“Wow, that sounds really thrilling.”  Dr. M. said, giving Alex his full attention.

Alex nodded and then looked at the ceiling thinking about what else filled his days. “Puzzles!  I really like puzzles.”

Ben looked over at Joe encouragingly, wanting him to take the cue, as he twisted the band on his left ring finger with his thumb.  Joe looked up, rubbing his chin.  It was the perfect opening. “Uh, yeah, about puzzles. We should let Dr. M. know what happens sometimes.  Like at playgroup.”

Alex looked down, remembering how angry his dad was with him that day.

Ben continued.  “Remember at Georgie’s, you got the puzzle off the shelf and started doing it when there were lots of other toys out.  You can’t just go into someone’s stuff.”

“I was bored!” Alex said with a raised voice, annoyed that his dad didn’t understand.

Dr. M. nodded.  “It’s hard to feel bored, isn’t it?”

Alex nodded emphatically, and Dr. M. continued, “When you feel bored, Alex, it’s good to tell one of your dads, and together you can discuss what to do. Maybe you can ask for another toy.  But, sometimes, you may have to be bored.  Lord knows, I am more than I’d like!” he laughed, trying to lighten the tension, but came back to the point.  “Do you think you can talk about how you feel before acting?”

Alex nodded, looking at Ben, who gave him a smile.

“Good!” Dr. M. said. “Your dads can remind you.  So, what else happens in the Life of Alexander Jones-Mazzello?”

“I help Papa cook.” Alex smiled at the recent memory.

“Cooking is fun!  How do you help?” Dr. M. asked.

“Add basil and…pars and stir.” Alex said.

“Basil and Parsley,” Joe clarified, “My Italian influence.”

“I’m a big fan of Italian food!”  Dr. M. said.  He smiled, directing his next question to Ben and Joe. “Any other activities your fine young man is involved in?

“He just started music class!” Ben added enthusiastically. “I read about the strong association between math and music, so we thought it would be good…” his voice trailed off as he looked over at the doctor typing into his I-pad.

Call Me Herb looked summarily unimpressed, perhaps the most unimpressed he’d been in his 35-year career as a pediatrician.  Ben and Joe exchanged glances.

“Alex, you are well on your way to becoming a fine 3-year old.  One day, I’d like you to meet my friend, Wendy.  She’ll show you some other fun puzzles and games I think you’ll like.” Dr. M. said as he helped Alex dress.  Then Alex leaned over and grabbed the checkers and started to play with them. 

Dr. M. then spoke softly to Ben and Joe, “I’m going to give you the number of Wendy Chambers. She’s an educational psychologist. She’ll do her assessment and have some ideas.”  He wrote her name and number on his prescription pad. “Do it this year, before the pre-school search heats up. The information she provides will help,” he said in his gentle tone as he handed the slip to Ben, who looked down at it.

“Is…Did…Is what we’re doing not right?” Ben asked hesitantly in a whisper.

“You’re doing great.” Dr. M. reassured.  Sensing Ben’s concern, he walked over to him and Joe and said very softly.  “It just may not be enough. In the long run. He’s precious.  And,” he added, “Gifted. With all joys and challenges that come with it.  I’ll let Wendy know I’ve referred Alex; you’ll be in good hand with her. Let’s stay in touch.”

After a round of handshakes, Dr. M. departed to a chorus of thank you from the boys.  

As they left the doctor’s office, Ben mentioned they needed to pick up some groceries.   “We’ll meet you home, then?” He said to Joe, their eyes lingering expressing they were in this together, whatever ‘this’ turned out to be.  Ben bent down to zip Alex’s jacket, his knee resting on the sidewalk, and planted a kiss on his cheek.  “You were such a good patient with Dr. M.  Ready to go, Buddy?”  Alex smiled and nodded, leaning in to hug Ben, who welcomed the embrace.  As usual, Alex’s hug stopped Ben in his tracks, and he had to force himself to stand up and proceed, grasping Alex’s hand.

“Thanks for shopping.  See you guys at home,” Joe said.  As they peeled off in opposite directions, Joe suddenly felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out.  The area code was vaguely familiar but he didn’t recognize the number, and there was no name associated with it.  

“Hello, Joe Mazzello.” He answered, stopping.  Joe nodded slightly as the name was revealed.  

“Oh. Hi.”  He said, in acknowledgement, suppressing his surprise. The voice relayed information, and Joe juggled his phone, trying to shift gears quickly and process the unexpected information.

“Really?  Seriously? Wow. That’s…terrific. Have to say, wasn’t expecting it.  I mean…” his voice trailed off as more information was relayed.

“When will…?” He registered the response with a nod, his eyes darting side to side.

“Uh, OK! Sounds good….” His voice faded as he tried not to express any concern or hesitation, though logistical wheels were turning in his head, as they always did.  “Ok, uh, let me … can I give you a call tomorrow and we can discuss the details? This is…Great!  Thanks. Thanks for the call.  Take care…Talk tomorrow. Bye.”

Joe clicked off the phone, his eyes opened wide.  A surprised grin emerged while he shook his head.  If life, acting  – and parenthood – taught him anything, it’s you can’t always predict what’s around the corner.  Life doesn’t ask to ‘put time on your calendar’ or ‘is this convenient?’  You have to keep calm and make it work.  As he walked home, Joe started to strategize about how to do that with this surprising news.

#ben hardy #ben hardy fan fiction #ben hardy fanfic #joe mazzello x ben hardy #joe mazzello #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello fan fiction #hardzzello #hardzzello week #lgbt love #Bohemian Rhapsody #6 underground #eugene sledge #queen fanfiction #lgbtlove #gay marriage #gay family #gay fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody fan fic #family drama #terrible twos #hardzello #queen fan fiction #queen fan fic #love is love is love

[winterknight1087]

Flower from the Fae (ch 37)

Chapter Title:  It's Not Wrong if Dee Finds it on the Internet!

Summary: Virgil likes plants, but when he goes to investigate a plant his friend, Remy, tells him about, he doesn’t exactly check out the plant. Little does he know that the handsome man he meets there is a fairy who is about to challenge the world Virgil knows.

Word Count: 2777

Chapter Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, Sympathetic Remus, cursing, disappearance discussion, (let me know if you need anything tagged, PLEASE)

Chapter Pairings: LAMP, Demus, Sleep/Picani

AO3 Link      My Writing

A/N: this is chapter 37, so read the first chapter here! 

Dee shifted the box once again. “I’m not getting in one of those ten-ton metal death traps again, Remy. Remus and I have managed quite well over the past seven years without using a car. You’re just whining to be annoying.”

“I never said you had to get in the car. All I said was that we could have put all the research into this woman you collected in the car so we didn’t have to carry it all.” Remy answered, opening the front door.

“Ladies, lord, and non-binary royalty watch me as I beat this geek and do it joyously!”

The two froze as they watched the Fae prince attempted to rap, getting into his advisor’s face. Once the prince finished his attempt, the advisor adjusted his glasses before launching into his turn without missing a single beat. Dee lost his grip on the box, shocked that this nerdy fairy was capable of destroying his prince so easily.

Do any of my friends have a single brain cell to their name? Dee couldn’t help but wonder as the spectators burst into cheers.

“Do we even want to know how this ended up happening?” Dee finally asked, shutting the door behind him.

“Remus showed Logan and Roman Epic Rap Battles of History. Princey then challenged Specs and got destroyed.” Virgil answered, grinning.

Logan blushed as he adjusted his glasses again. “It is of no matter.”

“What took the two of you so long! You asked us to come over like 5ever ago!” Roman gratefully jumped on the distraction from his shock.

“Had to carry half of Dee’s library over here,” Remy whined, dumping the box they were carrying onto the table.

“Why didn’t you just have us meet you at your place?” Virgil asked.

Dee glanced at Remus, who at least looked sheepish. “A Remus-mess. He found your edible glue recipe and attempted to make it.”

“But, you literally only mix the powder into water. How… Nope. Don’t want to know.”

“Could the two of you not have just driven over?” Logan asked.

“Dee and I don’t drive or ride in cars since the crash that hurt my brain and took DeeDee’s parents,” Remus answered.

“Did you two pick up the dye?” Virgil asked, cutting off Logan from asking more questions.

Remy tossed a bag towards the anxious man. “Purple and toxic green, as requested. Don’t stain our kitchen, again.”

“Alright, Remus, let’s do this!” Virgil said, grinning.

Remus was on his feet grinning. “Finally! I’m going to be a green crayon!”

“Have fun, boys!” Remy laughed as the two went into the kitchen. “Do you want to wait until they’re done to discuss Karen, or start talking?”

“Who’s Karen?” Pat asked Logan.

Logan looked uncomfortable. “Uh… well… I guess we can start… with something I didn’t tell the two of you about…”

Logan explained to the room about what happened with the woman. Once the half that hadn’t heard it originally were done asking what questions they had for him, they moved onto discussing what Remy had uncovered from investigating her dreams, which was very little.

“Other than the fact that the person did tell her what to do to rid herself of the magic, it’s just a catfish scam.” Remy ended.

“I disagree. I found the forum where she was looking for solutions to her blurting-out problem.” Dee said, pulling a paper from the stacks he had.

Roman looked at the other papers. “Are all of these from your investigation into this woman?”

“Yes.”

Emile shifted uncomfortably. “I really don’t like digging into someone’s life like this without their permission. Knowing your skill, we could be in some serious legal trouble if someone found out about any of this.”

Dee considered comforting the uncomfortable therapist by reassuring him that the personal identification he had on her was safely locked in his bag. He managed to keep himself from doing so, realizing that it would not, in fact, comfort the therapist knowing that Dee had managed to get Karen Smith’s social security number, a couple of credit card numbers, and some other serious information. He decided to just keep his mouth shut, which seemed to only tell the therapist what he wasn’t saying.

“DEE!”

“It’s really a good thing I found them! I pulled them off the internet for her. She should be grateful!”

“You’re going to get all of us into so much trouble if someone finds out!”

“Sure, Virgil gets to take a non-service animal into any and every store without you complaining, despite that breaking a ton of rules and laws, but I get the lecture.”

“Galaxy sits in silence in a bag or coat when she does go into a place! She doesn’t get into trouble like this!”

“And this information was just floating around on the internet! I didn’t do anything illegal to get it!”

“Having it is probably enough, Dee!”

Remy rolled their eyes as Dee and Emile started to really get into it. Emile was chill with a lot, but he drew the line when it came to illegal stuff. They glanced into the kitchen where they could see Remus and Virgil making a point to ignore the screaming from the living room as Virgil dyed Remus’s mustache.

“AH SNAKE!” Remy suddenly had their arms full of the Prince of the Fae, shaking and screaming.

“RUDE!”

“Not you!”

Logan sighed as he scooped up a small green snake off of the carpet. “I believe Roman means this snake, shifter. Though his reaction was a bit extreme.”

“Sally!”

“Alright, everyone just take a deep breath,” Remy announced as they dumped the prince onto the couch. “We’ve got more important things to discuss, over all this screaming at each other. Dee, take your green noddle from Logan and sit back down. Emile, we all know Dee has quite a bit of illegal information, so we can discuss it’s proper disposal after we discuss this Karen issue. If he thought it was important enough to print out, then we’ll hear him out.”

Logan handed over the small green snake. “I do have to say that this is an impressive amount of work done in the past three days, Dee. Sometime later, I would like to discuss your research methods, if you don’t mind.”

“Later,” Remy stated. “Now, what were you getting ready to show us, Dee?”

“First,” Dee answered before calling out. “Virgil, you still listening in?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Has Karen asked you for any herbs recently?”

“Uh… no, I don’t think so. It’s kind of unusual for someone to come ask me for any herbs directly. Only Sharon asks me directly.”

“Has she asked for some unusual herbs compared to normal?”

“Uh…” there was a pause. “Actually, yeah. If I remember correctly, she had some print out about new aromatherapy she wanted to try. I don’t remember the common herbs she needed but she did need Mugwort, Mullein, and Vervain. Normally, it’s stuff like lavender or basil or whatever. Why?”

Dee looked over the paper in his hand, muttering the three herbs to himself. “I found a forum post were Karen was given essentially a potion to, and I quote, ‘erase all traces of negative energy and mind tricks’. She had posted a couple of days later that it worked. There’s a whole list of herbs she’d need but a lot of them can be bought from the store. Take a guess what three herbs she could not buy from the store?”

“So, we have the answer to how she doesn’t have a trace of Logan’s magic,” Remy commented. “But, I wouldn’t have had to help you lug two-ton boxes of papers over here if there weren’t something else.”

“Well, the box you brought is…”

“Is?”

Dee awkwardly coughed out “…for Logan.”

“What’s in it?” Remy demanded, glancing at the box.

“Explanation of how this worked. I…uh… figured the pest would… like… to know how…”

“Aw, you do care.” Logan shouldn’t have managed to say that with as straight a face as he did, Dee thought.

“Whatever, pest.” He waved at the box he’d brought. “This is my research into who gave Karen the spell, a.k.a. her new boyfriend.”

“Which does not sound good,” Virgil called from the kitchen.

“That’s one way to put it,” Dee stated. “I agree with Remy that this person is definitely catfishing, but I disagree that it’s only for her money or whatever catfishers go for.”

Dee started to layout papers across the floor. “Logan, I asked you for specific files on a couple of fairies. Did you bring them?”

“You asked a fairy for something?” Remy feigned a gasp.

“For the rabbit hole I found myself going down, I’d make a deal myself for this information, so shut up,” Dee stated, accepting a folder from Logan.

He quickly read over the ten different missing beings cases. He pulled the papers out and added them to another stack he started to layout on the floor. Watching the shifter, both Remy and Logan paled, seeing what Dee was laying out.

“Geez, this looks like one of Remus’s murder maps for his novels.”

Dee looked up to see Remus and Virgil looking over the mass of paper. Virgil’s head was purple while Remus had a green head and, great magic help Dee, a green mustache. Dee nodded, solemnly as he took a seat on the couch, looking over the web of papers.

Logan looked at the shifter. “Let me get this straight. You are suggesting that this single account has sought out signs of supernatural from superstitious middle-aged women online and is the reason for their disappearances?”

“I’m not suggesting it, pest. The proof is right in front of you. The files you brought align with some records attached to the account early on. It all makes sense, and this comes from someone who proof-reads murder mystery novels for their feasibility.”

Roman eyed Dee, uncertainly. “I do not trust you, shifter. You are too knowledgeable about this kind of stuff.”

“Good because I do not like you pests.”

“Wait, Lo,” Virgil said, diving for one of the pages. “Avery. She was…”

“Yeah, I noticed that as well, Vee.”

Remy looked between the two of them. “What’s this about?”

Virgil took a slow breath before answering. “You asked why I was off a couple of days ago. Mothman, a.k.a. Robert told Logan and me a rumor about a green and purple-eyed woman who supposedly committed a number of atrocities in the Realm of the Fae. One of the fairies supposedly killed in that mess was this woman: Avery Green.”

“Well, if Dee is correct in his massive amount of research, she was not killed in the mess we’ve been looking into,” Logan said, looking at Virgil. “Three others are also laid out here, meaning four names were not killed in those attacks. That is finally something we can work with.”

“Uh… guys?” Emile said, reminding the beings that he was still here. “Shouldn’t we be worried that this account may be coming here? There is quite a bit of evidence suggesting that we should be worried.”

Dee cleared his throat uncomfortably. “If we all plan to keep Virgil safe, yes, we should.”

“Wait, why only me?” he asked.

“Hunters do not go after sandme-sand beings, so Remy is relatively safe. So long as I do not shift any time soon, there will be little pointing towards me. These posts discuss you and Logan, so whoever is behind these will be coming for the two of you. You are in the most danger as you can roam from the fairy circles whenever you want while Logan can just remain in his own realm.”

“OK, what if I stay in the Realm of the Fae until this mess is over with?”

“You cannot do so just yet,” Logan said, wincing at his own words. “Unfortunately, you still need to develop more of your own magic and we have to strengthen the bond between the four of us before it is feasible for you to stay extended periods within our realm. Essentially, building up a long-term tolerance for our realm, so to say.”

Remy looked at the fairy. “Sending him away does sound like a possible solution, though.”

“Dee as well.” Remus suddenly piped in.

“What.”

“I’m sorry, DeeDee, but I want you to be safe,” Remus said, softly. “If this is all true, even if you don’t shift, you’ll still have touches of magic that a trained hunter will know to look for.”

“He is correct, Dee,” Patton answered, looking uncomfortable with all of this. “While you may not be as much of a target as Virgil or us, if a hunter does come, you will still be in danger.”

“So, the three of you will have to leave,” Emile said, sadly looking at his partner.

“Excuse me, three?” Remy asked, shocked. “Hunters do not play with sand beings, Em. I’ll be fine. Plus, I technically can’t leave my post out here, not for that long. We can discuss this once Vee and Dee are out and safe.”

“Remy…”

“Emile, my leaving will cause trouble. Hunters know sand beings are vital to the sleep cycle of life, so they do not attack us. I will be fine. I can start some paperwork stuff for time-off request or whatever, but that will take time and for now, we need to focus on the actual targets claimed in the posts. Logan, how long until you think Virgil can jump circles properly on his own?”

“We were actually going to have him test that tomorrow,” Logan answered. “Why?”

Remy nodded. “We’ll make sure he can travel through them on his own first. I know a deal-style thing that will allow Dee to jump circles with Virgil, but it will not allow him to travel into your realm proper.”

“But, that’s not possible…” Roman answered, surprised. “Only fae and their witches can use the circles.”

“Correct, for the most part. Witches can use the circles for transport once they enter a deal. Companions, particularly of the animal kind, are capable of traveling with a witch, though. Did you never question how Gala was capable of going on your adventures?”

“Remy, I am not making a deal with those flying rats,” Dee stated.

Remy rolled their eyes. “And you won’t be. You’ll be entering a deal with a witch, who is our best friend.”

“So, after that? What?” Virgil demanded. “Dee and I just start our lives over somewhere else until we get a message from you lot saying that it’s safe to return when its entirely possible that that message will never be possible?”

“Until we can figure out how to keep the two of you safe,” Remy stated. “You’ll still be able to talk with your cuties, Virgil.”

“And I just have to leave my husband, friends, and snakes behind?” Dee demanded.

“Dee, please. I can watch over the snakes.” Remus said, softly, not looking at his husband. “We can still call and video chat and whatever. I know this feels like an attack on your pride, Dee, but please. I would rather make do with a long-distance relationship over having to… having to… Dee, please.”

“Ree, I can’t… I can’t just leave you.”

“Dee, I know that I can’t control my impulsiveness or words or not act upon even the weirdest idea that crosses my mind. But I’ll have Remy and Emile still. They can help keep me safe while you are away. I nearly lost you once, I can’t… not again. And this time, your dad won’t be at my side squashing any thought that you might not make it. Please, Dee.”

Could Dee really argue with him? Remus was nearly in tears with a green mustache drooping as it dyed. Yet, Dee also didn’t know how to function anymore without this chaotic being in his life. They’d been best friends since elementary school and married for the past seven years. How could he just leave?

Dee shut his eyes, trying not to cry as he answered. “You two bastards better keep a good eye on my idiot of a husband. Do you understand? If he’s hurt… a damn hunter will be nothing compared to me.”

“Of course, Dee. He can even take over our spare room.” Emile answered, wanting to ease Dee’s pain at this decision.

“It’s not goodbye just yet. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow, before goodbye.” Remy stated. “Now, will you two idiots go wash out your hair? It’s been like an hour. I’ve already dealt with in-too-long hair once. I’m not playing that game again.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @that-one-nb-kid, @hufflepuffxfox

#Flower from the Fae #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #deceit #remus #tw cursing #tw disappearances #Sage writes

[bluesprng]

「♱」 soulmates ² ♡ jeongin y.

request ↴ part two of soulmates | first part writer ↴ jellie a/n ↴ this was not proof read ( may not make sense, may have a shit ton of mistakes/typos ) and probably seems like a huge cluster fuck; the time skip is hella bad ( I actually thought of doing a tiny filler chapter, just to show the shit they got up to lmao ). Triggers include mention of character death, suicide- and by all means, find my inbox to bitch me out for this s h i t chapter. I’m so sorry. Hopefully chapter 3 will be better! ( 4 chapters in total. ) I haven’t slept in 3 days, cut me some slack.

‘It’s apartment E2 on the fifth floor.. There’s only two doors so it should be pretty easy to get the right one.’

Standing in front of the the door, you eyed the gold plated ‘E2′ that adorned it. He was right, it hadn’t been hard as each floor only had two apartments, but none of that mattered when anxiety was bubbling in your gut.

Raising your hand up to knock, the door flew open to reveal a grinning blonde. ‘Hey there, love! Sorry, we get notified of when people are on our floor and well, you didn’t seem like you were ever going to knock.’

You stared in shock at the unfamiliar face only to blink a few times and mutter out an apology. The latter waved his hand and stepped aside, gesturing you in. ‘You’re here to see Jeongin, yeah? He’s in the computer room,’ he began, leading you along, ‘I’m Felix, by the way. His roommate.’

‘Uh.. Y/n.’

It wasn’t hard to warm up to the male as he seemed so friendly, but you didn’t stay that relaxed for too long. When you spotted Jeongin, you felt your gut begin to twist once again. ‘I’ll leave you two to talk.. Let me know if you need anything.’ Felix showed what looked to be a sympathetic smile before leaving the room.

It was silent for a few seconds before the male was closing something on the screen and turning to you. ‘Sorry, I’m behind on some homework.. I’m Jeongin, you know that but uh, nice to meet you. You can sit down, if you want.’

‘Nice to meet you, too.’ Hesitating, you moved to sit down, fiddling with your fingers. You’d taken notice of the picture on the wall; it was in a gold frame and seemed to be Jeongin and Hyunjin in the park. Despite never meeting him, you let a frown form on your lips.

‘Here,’ he stated softly, holding out what looked to be a photo album, ‘this was his. He was a fan of pictures.. you’ll find some flowers in there, too. Er, they were, they were to his soulmate once they met. I’m.. sorry.’

Staring down at the book, you began to look through the pages quietly. Some were of him alone, groups of friends, food, scenery.. and in between pages were different flowers. Tears began welling along your waterline; ‘Ah, I feel stupid. I’ve never even met him- do I even have the right to cry?’

Jeongin shifted from his chair to join you on the small couch, carefully winding an arm around your shoulders. ‘It’s not stupid. You’ve got every right to cry for him- he was technically made for you, you know..? We all get it. My soulmate didn’t want me. Felix.. ah.. he was an arms length away from saving his soulmate from.. jumping,’ he furrowed his brow, ‘A friend of ours, Chris, his soulmate loved someone else.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ you whispered and closed the book, turning your attention to look at the blonde male. ‘How did.. Hyunjin go..?’ Part of you didn’t want the answer- the thought itself made you want to puke, but you needed to know.

‘He got in a car accident. Chris was driving him to one of those.. soulmate meet type things? Those weird festivals.’

Your heart sank. ‘If I had sought him out earlier, he would still be here. I could have.. I could have saved him!’

Tears began flowing down your cheeks as you started sobbing, curling your arms to hug the book to your chest. Jeongin parted his lips to say something but found himself just hugging you close, rubbing your arm. ‘Don’t think that.. Please. Maybe things would have gone differently, but- but if he was meant to go then..’

He trailed off, clearing his throat and swallowing his own urge to cry. ‘He wasn’t the type of person who’d want you to think like this. I’m sure he’s looking down at us right now, panicking his little heart out because you’re crying.. he wouldn’t want you to be crying, Y/n. It’s okay, really.’

You found comfort in the words and relished in his attempt to make you feel better; it helped, but you couldn’t help feeling at fault. If you’d taken interest much sooner, he’d still be alive. Maybe Jeongin was right though, maybe this was all just supposed to happen.

‘If you want, you can stay tonight..? Stay in his room and go through his stuff. None of us have managed to clean it out yet. Only if you want to. We’re strangers and all, so..’

‘I’d really like that, actually.. It’ll be nice to be around people who were close to him.’

‘Great, I’ll let Lix know. Also, it’s really nice to see you.. I didn’t think you’d show up with the circumstances. I think it may be good for you, but also for us. We don’t often have guests outside of our small circle.’

Before you could respond, another voice joined in and you both looked up to find Felix peeking into the room. ‘Not trying to interrupt, I just wanted to see what you wanted to order for dinner? Chris won’t be home early enough to cook.’

Jeongin seemed to falter at the idea of ordering food and pursed his lips. ‘We can’t keep ordering shitty food, Lix.. we really need to learn to cook.’

‘I can cook, if you’d like?’

Their attention was on you automatically. ‘You don’t have to do that, it would be rude of us to-’

‘They offered, shut up. Do you really want to order out, Jeong?’ The older showed pleading eyes, hoping his roommate would just agree. Without Chris, they didn’t get much home cooked food and Felix was pretty sure he’d rather die than eat more take out.

A chuckle fell from your lips, gently nudging the male beside you. ‘I’ll cook. It’s not a big deal. I like to cook.’

‘..Okay, okay.’

Setting the table, you listened to Felix complain about his hands, earning a few chuckles from not only yourself but Jeongin. It was cute how he got a little whiny over the littlest of things.

‘Is he always like this?’

The youngest gave a small nod. ‘He does his best to keep his spirits high because of what he studies. Felix is studying to be a child advocate lawyer.. He has to read over a lot of sensitive cases, so he has to keep himself up or those things will send him crashing down.’

‘Oh,’ you mumbled and looked over at the mentioned male, frowning a little, ‘It takes a lot to go into that kind of field.’

‘Yeah, it does but, he’s got one of the biggest, sweetest hearts.. he’ll be okay.’ He placed a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder and set the last napkin down, joining the latter in bringing the food to the table.

After getting lost in your thoughts, you found your voice. ‘What do you study, Jeongin..?’

‘Professional writing.’ He hesitated as he set a bowl on the table, fingers tapping against the warm surface; he was debating an explanation. ‘Hyunjin often helped me proof read my writings for school.. He told me I should pursue it because I was so good. So, I decided to.’

Despite knowing his name would cause you to overthink, you smiled at the idea. ‘That’s really sweet.’

‘Mhmm. What about you? Do you go to college?’

‘Not yet. I want to study naturopathy.. or herbalism. I really like the medical use of plants and herbs.’ You were met with a fond smile and a raised eyebrow.

‘Is that so? Huh.. makes sense.’ Jeongin mused, ‘He loved plants. Actually, he helped with the garden on the roof.’

The words peeked your interest but for the second time in the day, you were interrupted; this time from an unfamiliar voice. ‘Who the hell is that?’

Everyone turned to see a third boy with blonde-ish hair and you were pretty close to having a mental breakdown. ‘Okay, do you guys have some.. hair color pact or something?’

The new face didn’t seem amused as he walked through to drop a bag on the counter, eyeing you like some type of plagued being.

‘This is Y/n- you know.. the Y/n,’ Felix chimed in, moving around the counter to snoop through the bag, much to the latter’s annoyance but he didn’t stop him. No one seemed to really want to answer your question, though it wasn’t needed as the younger pulled a box out.

‘Actually, it looks like Minho won’t have blonde hair for much longer!’

It was a box of silver hair dye, much to everyone’s surprise. Well, you were more curious about the male himself, not the fact that he was going to be changing his hair color.

‘I came by to see if one of you would mind helping me out.. I heard Chris wouldn’t be home until late.’ Minho shrugged before looking towards you once more, ‘I’m Minho, if you hadn’t caught on and you can save the introduction, I know who you are.’

Well, isn’t he pleasant you thought with pursed lips until Jeongin nudged your side. ‘That’s the one who I told you about. Chris and Minho are- were soulmates, but Minho is with someone else. They don’t often end up in the same room together,’ he began explaining in a hushed tone, ‘It’s not that they don’t get along, it’s more of.. they get along too well, for obvious reasons, but Chris is a little more sensitive about the whole topic.’

You nodded slowly as you listened, feeling bad about the situation, but you also weren’t involved, so you didn’t ask further. ‘I see..’

‘So, why are you here?’

Your attention went to the oldest and you shifted in your spot, feeling small under his gaze. It felt like he was trying to tear you apart with his eyes. ‘I came to speak with Jeongin about Hyunjin.’

He tensed at the name but just rolled his eyes and grabbed the box of dye, disappearing down the hall into one of the rooms. Felix offered you an apologetic gaze before following him. The third male just sighed, taking a seat at the table with every intention on eating, not caring who joined or who didn’t. ‘Ignore him. Minho has always had an attitude problem..’

‘He always hates your guests? How fun.’

Settling down at the table, you both began to converse amongst yourselves, easily clicking and finding topics that didn’t include someone crying or getting pissed off.

You found that you’d easily fall in sync with the boys, finding a friend in each.. except maybe Minho.

one year later

‘I’m gonna miss you.’ Felix frowned as his arms wound tightly around you, swaying you both as he sniffled.

You let out a small laugh and squeezed him in your arms before nudging him back. ‘You’re coming back in six months, Lix, I’ll be here when you get back.’

He huffed. ‘What if you aren’t? It’s going to feel so weird not seeing you guys every morning.. What am I supposed to do? What if my roommate hates me?’

A few snorts and chuckles left the small group as you reached to pinch his freckled cheek.

‘Jisung seemed like a really sweet kid when you skyped him, so I wouldn’t worry too much.. besides, who could possibly hate you? Just go and have fun,’ Chris cooed over him, ‘Not too much fun.. make sure you study and do good in your classes!’

‘Don’t forget about us.. and you better call and message us when you can.’ Minho was next, hugging the boy close, ‘We’re going to miss you, loser.’

You tucked yourself into Jeongin’s side as he used one arm to hug his now strawberry haired friend, sighing. ‘Gonna miss you, Lix. Take care of yourself, okay?’

Felix rubbed at his eyes as his friends said goodbye and he couldn’t seem to calm down, but his flight was being called and he needed to go. With one last shouted ‘goodbye, i love you guys!’ the Aussie was off and you were all left to return to the apartment.

It felt weird. Over the past year, you’d gotten closest to Felix, despite your blooming relationship with Jeongin. It would feel empty without the bright boy around. You found yourself pretty close with Chris, often helping out with cooking and cleaning. Minho, however, even after so long, barely spoke to you and looked utterly disgusted when you tried to initiate conversations.

Life was moderately good.. but you wondered just how long that would last.

Returning, you found yourself falling onto the couch with a yawn, having gotten very little sleep before; you blamed Felix with his last minute packing. The youngest joined you, lightly pushing his fingers through your hair. ‘You should get some rest.. I’ll wake you up with dinner is getting started.’

You let out a sound of protest and squirmed to rest your cheek on his thigh. ‘I don’t want to sleep. Hey.. can I ask you something?’

He hummed in acknowledgement, letting you know he was listening.

‘Do you think.. he would be mad at us for this..? For.. dating?’

The question felt stupid; made you feel utterly ridiculous, but you were dating your lost soulmate’s best friend. That sounded pretty shitty in your mind. Jeongin wasn’t very quick to reply, either.

‘I don’t think he would be mad. I think he would have wanted us to move on.. besides, we found a piece of him in each other. I told you I believe in destiny and paths.. Which means, in my head, this is how it was supposed to go for us.’

‘Or he’s up there thinking you’re both assholes for dating each other, knowing he was your best friend and Y/n’s soulmate. It’s kind of gross.’ Minho sneered as he walked through the living room to the kitchen, ignoring the existence of Chris entirely.

The words made you sink further on the couch, hiding your face in your boyfriend’s thigh. He shot Minho’s retreating figure a glare, gently patting your back; ‘I’ll repeat the same words I told you the day we met; ignore him, he has an attitude issue.’

‘Is he right?’

‘Absolutely not. I know for a fact you don’t really believe him... he just has a way of making people feel like utter shit.. but, he’s family.’ A weak chuckle followed his words as he shifted to get more comfortable on the couch, closing his eyes. ‘Just get some rest, okay? Don’t linger on the bad thoughts, babe.’

You relished in the pet name and gave a small nod, nuzzling close to his warmth and closing your eyes. Maybe he was right; maybe this was what the world had planned for you all along.

Sadly, the following months thought otherwise and you found yourself back at square one. Someone gone and someone changing your life.. for better or maybe for worse.

#jellie #stray kids #skz #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #kpop #kpop drabbles #kpop scenarios #jeongin #yang jeongin #i.n #lee know #lee minho #bang chan #felix #lee felix

[hajimesh]

lokasenna pt. 3

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Jötunn!Loki x Healer!Reader

Summary: It’s your first day as a healer in Utgard. What can go wrong?

A/N: i was watching a movie the other day and they spoiled me GOT, you could hear me screeching all the way to mars. also, for this chapter i made up some medical stuff, you’ll see, and yeah i just hope it doesn’t look ridiculous. feedback is very much appreciated, enjoy! *gif not mine*

Previous chapter

- þrír -

Once the meeting was over, you were shown to you chambers. They were in the east wing of the castle, while Loki's were on the west wing. A guard escorted you and once you were in front of your door he left right away. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Looking back at the ice doors you were reluctant to push them, especially after what happened earlier. You decided to try pushing them with your foot and, thankfully, it worked.

You entered the room and the first thing you noticed was the bed: it was made of ice.

Groaning to yourself you dropped your things in a corner and walked to a door that stood on your left. Opening it you realized you had your own bathroom, letting out a sigh of relief you thanked the norns for at least having privacy. A knock on your door caught your attention and you walked back at the bedroom.

A guard stood there, eyeing you with disgust. "Your Majesty wishes to have a word with you, healer."

And without another word he turned on his heels and walked away.

It looked like everyone tended to do that here.

* * * *

After twenty minutes of walking, you finally made it to Prince– well King Loki's chambers. The guards opened the doors and you stepped in. There he stood, on his balcony staring outside. He looked lost in his thoughts with his brows knitted and a frown on his mouth. The noise the door made when the guards closed them got him out of his trance. Finally turning around, he began making his way towards you.

With a small bow you addressed him.

"Did your Majesty request my presence?"

He hummed in knowledge. "When do you plan to start your duties, healer?"

"Right away if that is what your Majesty wants." It felt weird to call him that, but you knew if you didn't he'd make your stay here worse than it already is.

"Very well, you may start tomorrow. I expect a good work from you, after all, you are representing Asgard and its rulers. Understood?"

Nodding your head you answered him. "Yes, your Majesty.”

* * * *

The next day you woke up feeling a bit better. You didn't sleep much due to the nerves but it was enough. You stood up and made your way to your bathroom drawing yourself a bath. Grabbing some of the herbs and oils you brought from Asgard, you threw them into the water and conjured a handful of flowers so you could use the petals as decoration. Once the bath was ready, you got in and allowed yourself to relax.

Deciding to mentally prepare yourself for the day, you tried to put on an optimistic attitude. Today is going to be a good day. You repeated the words over and over again, like a mantra, as if saying them multiple times would make you believe them. Gliding softly the tips of your fingers onto the water you let your magic flow and mingle around the petals. This always had a calming effect on you, you discovered it a few years ago on a particularly bad day at the palace's infirmary.

Soldiers were coming from a battle near the outskirts of the city and they were badly injured. One in particular, had received a poisoned dagger on his thigh and your job was to stop the bleeding and prevent the poison from spreading all over his body. You still couldn't control your powers very well and at the end of the day he passed away, his heart giving up against the poison. You felt so guilty at the time and Frigga saw your distress. She took you away and prepared you a bath and tea herself, humming a lullaby for you the whole time and then taking you to bed. You still hadn't calmed down so she told you to release your magic, to let it flow around you and feel its power. Once you did, she released hers and gently grazed it around yours, warmth and calmness overcoming you. After ten minutes you were peacefully asleep on the All-Mother's arms. Since that day, she went from being your Queen to being your mother. Always watching over you.

With a sigh, you stopped your magic and got up. Not wanting to be late on your first day, you ended the rest of your routine rather quickly and made your way to the infirmary. All the way you tried to think about what to say as an introduction but once you stepped in the infirmary all words were forgotten.

Female Jötnar, that you presume are healers, stared at you expressionless. You tried looking around for a friendly, more approachable face, but fond none. Exhaling in defeat, you decided to introduce yourself.

"Hello… um my name is Y/N, from Asgard."

They just kept staring at you, this time with a raised eyebrow.

"I am expected to work here as a healer? I-It's under King Loki's commands." You continue nervously, unsure if you said the right thing.

Before anyone had time to react, a group of jötnar suddenly broke into the room. Some were injured and others were carrying those who could not walk properly. Screaming and loud words were heard in a different language, one you did not know.

The jötnar healers quickly gathered in a circle and seemed to be in a deep discussion, nodding their heads and looking at you. After a few seconds, one of them approached you.

"Very well, it seems it is time for you to prove yourself worthy to carry the title of healer, Asgardian. Follow me." You only nodded in response and followed her.

She brought you towards one of the severely injured jötnar and pushed you closer to him. He was a well built soldier and it seemed as if he had been dragged across hel and back.

"Male Jötunn attacked by a Marmennill. Stabbed five times, tree times in his upper right abdomen, twice on the chest. Dislocated shoulder and broken legs." She looked at you and smiled. "All yours." Turning on her heels, she left.

You were still staring at her, open mouthed, when a pained groan brought you back to reality. Turning to face the Jötunn, you began to think how to heal him. The stabbing on his chest was what worried you the most, because it was very likely that his heart was compromised. And at the same time, the stabbing on his abdomen surely damaged the liver. This was serious but you had done it before.

Quickly you made your way to the cabinets, looking for the herbs you needed and some clean towels. You returned to the injured soldier and explained him what it was that you were doing.

"Sir your condition is very delicate, I must make sure your heart and organs are well and try to find any internal bleeding. Your shoulder and legs do not need my attention immediately so I will be focusing on the stabbing."

With a light nod the Jötunn allowed you to continue, but before you were able to, one of the healers came to examine your work.

"What is it that you are doing?" She questioned you with an air of superiority.

"I have decided to check his chest and abdominal wounds, I'm highly concerned about his heart and liver conditions. Because of that, I will be-“

But before you could finish, she abruptly interrupted you. "Heart and liver? And why is that?"

Confused, you mull over her words trying to see if you misunderstood her. She raised her eyebrows expectantly and you answer her, still confused.

"Because his wounds are located exactly where this organs are. The liver is on the upper right side of the abdomen and the heart on the chest. Perhaps even the lungs could be compromised."

You looked back at the Jötunn soldier making sure the wounds were where you had just said. But then, a loud laugh broke into the room making chills go down your spine. You turned towards the sound and you were surprised to see the healer, who was with you, in hysterics. You glanced around the room confused, what was wrong with her?

Finally composing herself after a few more seconds, she looks at you and then to the rest of the room.

“Behold, the great Asgardian healer. So grand and oh so wise!" She looked mockingly at you before continuing. "That she does not know basic anatomy of the Jötnar."

A few laughs could be heard around the infirmary. Still confused, you were about to question her when she decided to continue.

"Oh poor little healer. Thinking that her Asgardian body is similar to a Jötunn one." She started walking closer to you and, instinctively, you took a step back. "Livers are on the upper left side of the abdomen." Another step forward form her, another step back from you. "The heart is on the far left side of the chest and it is not so fragile as yours, it would take more than a stab to harm it."

You kept taking steps backwards until you stumbled on a desk. The healer had cornered you and no one seemed to be willing to rescue you from her. Looking back at her red eyes, she growled at you.

"And even if it were to be severely harmed, our hearts are not responsible of our lives. We depend on our brains and that is the biggest difference between you and me, Asgardian."

Her face was now so close to you that you could not escape her eyes. A cold feeling sat on your neck and suddenly you were running out of air. She had a strong hold on your neck and your whines and groans seemed to annoy her more because her grip tightened even more. No one did anything but watch, enjoying the show.

"Filthy Asgardian, thinking yourself above of us. This is how thing are done in Utgard and like it or not, there is no place for you in my infirmary. Now get out before I kill you with my bare hands!”

She released her grip on your neck and you dropped to your knees coughing. You tried to catch your breath as blood rushed to your brain, temporarily deafening you. You felt dazed, the lack of oxygen putting you in a weak state.

"Did you not hear what I said? GET OUT!"

A whimper left your mouth and tears blurred your vision. You couldn't stand up you felt weak and nauseous, your neck and head hurting so badly.

"You filthy healer, I am going to end you! Stupid creature I-"

The doors of the infirmary slammed open and gasps were heard. You couldn't lift your head to look at the new intruder but once you heard the voice, you knew things were about to get much worse.

"What in the nine realms is this!?"

King Loki was here and did not sound happy.

Lokasenna Taglist: @perceptorxbrainstorm @immakween @ellaxiv @pinkmoontribe-blog

Loki Taglist: @slytherins-assemble-tofightsith @memmucci @servamp-addict @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @theworld-is-ahead @crescent-night @godhateskyleigh

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #Loki Angst #multi chapter #lokasenna #jotun loki #loki odinson x reader #loki of jotunheim #utgard #loki x reader #loki x you #healer!reader #jotun!loki #chaptered fic #Loki Fandom #loki fluff #jotnar #loki (marvel) #loki (mcu) #norse mythology #norse gods #frigga #Thor Odinson #thor movies #Fluff and angst #fluff #marvel

[bts5sosempire]

A Witch? (Chap. 2): Conspiracy

A/n: oh God my brain is kind of dead from all the thinking and trying to connect with the story. Ajsisishishdidjjd I guess there is a little story improvement.

And yeye I didn't proofread this, sorry if there are any typos or misunderstanding content please pm me.

Pairing: Witch!Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Words: 1,279

Summary: Confessing your cheating ex to another friend of yours, she manages to convince you to visit a little witch that is popular in the school college campus. But things took a turn.

. . . . .

A few weeks have passed and Nayoung had pressed you to tell you what is going on with you to the point you break down and cried to her. You told Nayoung everything of Junghwa and Jongsu, of how they both had went behind your back.

“Don't be sad (Name) he wasn't worth it anyway.” Calming you down, Nayoung just grinds her teeth together at the thought of your ex-boyfriend and Junghwa together. “And I know something that will cheer you up.” She gently cupped your face and wipe your tears away. “I heard that there is this really good guy in our college who can read your future.”

“Are you really into those things?” You ask with an eye roll. You thought that it was a little childish for Nayoung to be into that witchy stuff, but you just give her a shoulder shrugged. “You know I don't really believe in those right Nayoung?”

“But they said he is legit,” Nayoung tries to convince you, “c'mon just give it a try.”

“Wait? It's a he?”

“Yeah, it's a he and you can't be a bitch about it since there are guys who are apparently into the weird stuff like I am.” Nayoung rolls her eyes at you this time. You give her a weak smile. “So will you go with me? To take your mind off of those unpleasant things.” Brushing her hands from your face, you look away.

“I don't know, sure?” With your answer, Nayoung jumps up from the couch and told you to get ready. “I'm just doing this for your own good (Name).” You wave a hand at her as you turn away to go and go get ready.

.

Jungkook was rather restless in his little club room, you were nearer than he thought. In fact, you go to the very same college as him! How lucky is he? If he can take you and wipe out your memory this time, before the community found out that he had made a amateur mistake, he'll be safe.

There was a knock on Jungkook's clubroom door that knocks him from his thought. “Come in,” he told the person outside before sitting down in front of a classic table with an orb. Jungkook saw a girl who wears the everyday color that mostly consists of black, but she also wore other colors too. He recognizes her as Nayoung, the girl who always ask for advice on witchcraft. It's not like he'll give her the real thing, but still, Jungkook gives her something to work with.

“Hi,” she waves a quick greet to him. Nayoung pushes the door aside and you appeared right behind her and Jungkook thought that his life couldn't get any better for him. He was so focused on you that Nayoung had to bring reality into him again. “Sorry, but could you do me a little favor? It's for a friend here.” Nayoung meekly said to Jungkook with a little hint of blush.

“What can I do for you?”

Nayoung brought out something for Jungkook and it's rosemary and lavender flowers, plus some other herbs that can't be named. “Are you serious?” There was a questioning look on your face as you Nayoung just dump things on the table for Jungkook.

Nayoung shoots you a glare before proceeding to tell Jungkook, “My friend here wants to know her fate, to see if there would be any prospect or future lover for her.” She pulls you by the arm and pushes you in front of her. You reluctantly went upfront. You feel like you change your mind now.

“Shall we start?” Jungkook asks you, who give him a side eye view before sitting in the chair across from him. Jungkook extends his hands for you to take and you slowly did so. “So let's start with your name miss?”

“(Name).”

“Okay, (Name) I am Jungkook,” he peered into your eyes and something unnerved reminded you about an incident a few weeks ago. “So what do you want to know? Is there a reason for it?”

“No particular reason,” you answered back seeing much less interested than before.

“Are you sure? You're not looking at me.”

Pulling your hands away from Jungkook, you stand up with such a quick manner that the chair skid back. You run a hand over your face as you left the room with an unstable mask. Nayoung went after you.

“(Name), what is wrong with you?” Nayoung grabs your arm and twists you around to look at her. She was about to scold you but you look at her with such a sad look. “Oh shit, you alright?”

“I don't know if I'm ready,” you were about to cry but held back. “Its just so hard to be *normal you know? Acting like Junghwa and Jongsu haven't affected me this much.”

“I brought you here for a reason,” Nayoung soothe down your sadness, “I want to assure you that there is still love out there and if Jungkook successfully found him for you, you can hold onto that hope. Jongsu isn't the last man you'll love.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and try to calm yourself down.

You went back inside the clubroom with a hardened heart.

Jungkook was sitting there patiently.

“Let's this over with.” Extending out your hand for him to hold, Jungkook took it. He closes his eyes and he tries to connect with your soul instead of trying to do what Nayoung had brought you for. Before he tries to take a peek into your soul, Jungkook had to find out why he failed to compel you in the first place at the park.

Jungkook felt weird that he can't seem to find anything. It was like something is blocking it. Is it from your strong will? No, it's something different.

All of a sudden a face of a young woman who was no older than her 20's screech at Jungkook face.

“Get away from her!” It rings in his ears, as Jungkook suddenly let go of your hand so fast that this time he stood up from the table and knock down the chair. There was a look of shock on his face. His breath was haggard and quick.

“Is something wrong?” Nayoung asks Jungkook who give her an okay sign.

This is something that Jungkook had never experience before as being a witch. He needs to come up with a quick excuse. “It's just that (Name) little dating fate seems unclear to me.”

“What?” This shock Nayoung, who had put much trust in Jungkook and his abilities. “What do you mean that she is unclear? Look Jungkook you were able to hook up mostly everyone on this campus with each other, but how come you said (Name) is a different case?”

“I didn't draw enough energy to conclude her dating and fate.”

“Nayoung, I want to leave. It's okay if I end up being alone in this world.” You stood up quite disheartened at the result. “But thank you for trying Jungkook.”

“(Name)!” You quickly left the clubroom and Nayoung was right behind you.

.

“(Name) wait!” Nayoung pulls your arm to prevent you from going away any further. “I'm so sorry for whatever happens in there.”

“Don't apologize, I know you've been trying to cheer me up.” You're not going to lie, you kind of have your hopes up when you were in that room. But everything turns out to be futile in the end. “I want to be alone is that okay with you?”

“Y-Yeah, take all the time you need.” She let's go of your arm and you walk away.

#bts #bangtan #bts v #bts jungkook #bts suga #bangta boys #bts jhope #bts jimin #bts jin #bts-x-reader #bts namjoon #fan fic writing #fan fiction #fanfic #bangtan boys #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts fandom #bts fanfction #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic

[shawol9196]

Witch AU 8/?: Conciliatus

Minho’s never been able to see the past before and it frightens him. Eventually it stops and he realizes that he and Kibum are still holding each other’s sleeves. They let go of each other and each take a step back.

“Thank you for letting me in. My name is-”

“Kibum, right?”

(Warnings: rated BM for mentions for blood and magic)

A/N: this is backstory type stuff ^^

It’s a quiet morning in the shop. Minho flips over the open sign at 9am like normal, moving back to sit behind the counter to eat his breakfast. The regular customers -- mainly elderly in need of health potions and students in need of luck -- slowly start to trickle in at 9:30 and it stays busy until noon. After 1pm, the stream runs out. Minho’s left alone to reorganize the displaced potions, to recount the number of bottles, to count the amount of money in the cash register. At 2pm, he changes the sign; though he doesn’t technically close for lunch, he still likes to limit the people coming in so he’s able to eat his soup. Since it’s Tuesday, he brings out his mirrored bowl and drops his amulet in, trying to contact his mother. When he hums, the amulet refuses to cooperate. He takes it out, sucks on it briefly, and puts it back into the bowl. Again, the amulet refuses. There’s a frantic knock on the door and it sets off a vision: there’s a feeling of warmth, the taste of fear, a sigh of relief. When he comes back to, the knocking has only increased. He turns around and sees a man seemingly around his own age. If the man can’t get in himself, he must also be a witch. Now that it’s just Minho, now that everyone else has gone on, the shop has been reluctant to let any other magical persons in. He opens the door to ask what the man’s business is and he grabs at his sleeve. It triggers another vision.

Kibum’s been running for three days now. Ever since he heard the whispers that the coven was coming for his blood, ever since he saw the Head’s plans, ever since Dongwoo slipped him out the back tunnels. No food for three days, besides the occasional herb he recognizes enough to trust. Eleven years in the coven, just to be marked as a sacrifice. First everyone gone in the fire now everyone trying to burn him if he could just get somewhere safe if he could just-

The vision ends abruptly and the return to reality is jarring.

“Please, sir, please I need help please I-” the man, Kibum, starts begging.

Minho pulls him inside without a word, switching the door sign to ‘unexpectedly closed’ and charming the blinds to close. Minho starts going in and out of visions: he sees bits of Kibum’s childhood, of his family before the coven; the fire, the coven coming, the second fire; Kibum learning potions and attempting little spells. He’s so enraptured in it that he almost loses the present. Minho’s never been able to see the past before and it frightens him. Eventually it stops and he realizes that he and Kibum are still holding each other’s sleeves. They let go of each other and each take a step back.

“Thank you for letting me in. My name is-”

“Kibum, right?”

There’s understandable fear in Kibum’s eyes and he glances at the door, taking another step back.

“I’m sorry, my gift is visions. I...I’ve seen your past, I know why you’re here. Or at least part of it. You’re safe here, I swear. My name is Minho.”

He reaches out his hand and to his relief, Kibum reaches out towards him as well. The moments their palm touches, there’s a blinding light. It’s a warm feeling about it, and though they’re both apprehensive, there’s a sigh of relief on both sides. When the light disappears there’s a mass of flower petals accumulating below their hands in shades of gold and white and purple. They both recoil. Minho looks down, realizing the purple flowers are coming only from his palm; the gold are coming only from Kibum’s.

“What does...Minho what does this mean? This hasn’t...I’ve never....I don’t know what this means what does it mean?”

“I have a book upstairs that talks about these things. It’s our magic, our energies reacting to each other. Flowers seem like a good sign to me. You can come up if you like.”

Minho picks up a handful of the flowers and walks towards the back of the store where the stairs are. Kibum stays firmly in place.

“How do I know I can trust you?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t want to be pushy, Kibum, but as of now, I seem to be the only friend you have. If I wanted to hurt you I would’ve done it by now.”

“Oh.”

Kibum follows him to the stairs, following him upstairs. He seems twice as on edge when they reach the second floor.

“How protected is this building?”

“Very.”

“That’s not specific.”

Minho pauses from where he’s scanning his bookshelf to look back at him.

“My family has lived in this shop in one form or another for over 300 years. It’s been imbued with magic from each person who’s lived here. It kept my mama and I safe when my pa and my grammy died. It kept me safe these 7 years I’ve lived alone since mama died. You’ll be safe here, Kibum. There’s not an inch of this place that isn’t enchanted somehow or another.”

“The coven is very powerful, Minho. You don’t know them you don’t know what they’re like-”

“Kibum. I know you’re scared. Trust me, I can feel your fear. Literally. But this place, this house, is safe.”

“How do you know?”

“Kibum, let me find my book first, alright? And then after that, after we know what happened, you can ask me any question you like.”

Kibum hushes and Minho turns back to his books. He finds his book -- Magical Energies: A History and Guide -- and he turns back to Kibum.

“There’s a basement too. Would you feel better if we sit down there? That’s where my workshop is.”

“That’d...yeah, that’d be good I guess.”

Minho leads the way back down the stairs, opening the hatch door behind the counter. He puts his book in his bucket and heads down first. He waits at the bottom of the ladder. Kibum misses his footing and falls right into Minho’s arms.

“Did you know that was going to happen?” Kibum asks as Minho sets him back on his feet.

“Not in the vision sense, but I’ve fallen enough to know that’s not the greatest ladder.”

Kibum looks around at the workshop and Minho looks to find something comfortable for them to sit on. He finds a mass of pillows and waves Kibum over. They sit, though still at a distance, and Minho starts flipping through the pages as Kibum spreads out the flowers.

“Okay, I know the yellow and purple ones are freesia. Those mean trust and it’s a sign that our magical energies will interact reliably. They’re colored according to our magic eyes, so that it shows that it’s reliable on both sides.”

Kibum nods slowly, picking apart the petals off of one of the purple freesia.

“There’s two white flowers,” Kibum comments quietly.

After finding the appropriate page, Minho takes a second look.

“Lilies are a sign of...devotion. It means our energies pair comfortably and that the bond between it will have a positive effect on our spells and potions, especially the longer we work in proximity or in tandem.”

“And then?”

“I don’t know what it is. My book only has names and descriptions, no pictures.”

“It’s wintergreens.”

Minho watches Kibum pick up a blossom and twirl the stem around between his fingers. Their eyes meet after a moment and Minho feels a pang of something. Whether it’s the feeling of having a friend after so long, or interference from the knowledge that they’re -- according to his book -- practically soulmates in an energy perspective, or some sort of divine affection, he can’t deny the warm feeling spreading in his chest as Kibum shyly turns his gaze back to the flower.

“They used to grow at the house I lived in when I was little. I always picked them for my mother. That’s how I know what they’re called.”

Minho hums and looks back to his book.

“It says that wintergreens mean harmony. So in summary, we have a positive bond that will grow stronger and more reliable the longer we’re around each other.”

“Does that...does that mean I can stay here?”

“Of course. You can stay with me as long as you like, as long as you feel safe. I could use some help, if you’d be willing. I promise I’m not a mean boss.”

The corner of Kibum’s lip turns up. Minho hopes it’s a cautious attempt at a smile and can’t help but to wonder what a proper one looks like.

“Thank you, I appreciate it. I wasn’t fully...I didn’t finish...”

“I saw. Don’t worry, I have more textbooks than you could ever want. My mama was a potions maker so that’s what I was mostly trained in anyway.”

“Then, if you don’t mind me being here and you don’t mind teaching me a little before I start properly helping, then I accept your job-and-lodging offer.”

Minho smiles and stands.

“How about some lunch to seal the deal?”

#wau #wau writing #writing #minho #genderfluid!kibum #minkey #blood mention #magic mention #me? writing again? during the school semester? its more likely than you think

[dreamsofpilots]

Get Used to the Sound

Josh Dun x Reader 

Warnings: None, it’s pretty cute and fluffy.

You barged into your apartment, throwing your bags to the floor and slamming the door behind you. Today had been such a long and stressful day, you were completely exhausted. Everyone at work seemed to have needed something from you, but couldn’t be satisfied when you delivered. You’ve about had it with your job, but you didn’t really have any other options right now.

Stomping your way to the bathroom you turned on the tap to fill the tub with steamy water. Throwing in bath salts, herbs and flower petals, as well as some soap to create suds, you let the aroma fill your senses. You felt your body relax as you bathed, the tension leaving your muscles, and your skin became soft and fragrant from the soaps. You sighed, content in your relaxation, believing that nothing could ruin this for you.

That was when you heard it. The drumming.

One of the other tenants in the apartments had a window that faced yours but was a floor above. He was a drummer and practiced often. It always seemed to be at inopportune times for you, like when you were trying to relax or get work done. You had complained to the landlord once, but he insisted that this drummer was the best tenant that he’s ever had and no one else minds his drumming. You were forced to deal with it, and most of the time you could ignore it. This was not one of those times.

Getting out of the tub you quickly dried yourself off and threw on a robe. You marched over to the window in your living room and threw it open in a great huff.

“Hey!” you shouted up at his window. The drumming continued.

“Hey!” you shouted again, this time louder. Still nothing. Of course, he couldn’t hear you over his banging.

With another huff, you flew out of your apartment, barefoot and with the hair that had fallen out of your bun clinging to your damp neck. You didn’t care how you looked, you just need the noise to stop, just for tonight. You just wanted one night of quiet relaxation. You work so hard, you deserved that, didn’t you?

It wasn’t hard to find his room when you reached the second floor, you just followed the sound of drumming to his door. You took a breath to steady yourself. It wouldn’t do well to blow up at this dude, not to mention your mother always taught you to be kind, even when you’re upset. Still, with the mood you were in, you knew this would be a struggle.

You banged on his door, the only way for him to hear you over his own banging. The drumming stopped and it suddenly felt a little too quiet. You were taken aback by what you saw when the door opened. You hadn’t been sure what type of person to expect but the man that answered wasn’t anything like what you would have imagined.

You noticed his bare chest first, muscular, freckled and glistening with sweat. Then, the intricate tattoos along his arms. His bright yellow dyed hair was hard to miss, the fluffy curls clinging to his damp forehead. He had a hoop in his left nostril and gages in his ears. These things would normally make a person slightly intimidating, but a huge smile decorated his face and crinkled his mocha colored eyes, making him anything but.

You stood there, mouth agape, surprised at just how attractive this guy was. It took you off guard and the wind that had fueled your irritation at his noise completely left your sails. So instead of giving him a piece of your mind, you said nothing.

“Uh… hey.” The drummer gave you a puzzled look, clearly uncomfortable with your open-mouthed scrutiny. But as his eyes glanced over your body, you realized that it could have been your lack of attire as well.

You cleared your throat. “Um hey, I just…uh…the drumming…” you trailed off, a blush creeping into your cheeks. Way to start an intelligent conversation Y/N.

“Oh sorry,” he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, his own blush appearing. “Was I playing too loud? I guess I’m still pumped from the tour so I was probably playing louder than normal. Sorry about that.” He laughed nervously. You tried to focus on anything other than how nice his voice sounded or how his arms flexed while he ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, it’s just, I’ve had a very long day and I was trying to relax a little. It’s just kind of hard with the uh…drumming.” You looked at your feet, feeling suddenly sorry for having got yourself so worked up.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I guess I can stop for a while. I’d hate to be a bother.”

Your head shot up, “Oh! You’re not a bother really, I didn’t mean-” you hated how flustered you were getting. He laughed, “No, it’s fine, I get it.” You nodded and the two of you stood there silently, the awkward tension in the air hard to ignore. Suddenly, his hand was thrust towards you, “I’m Josh by the way.” You shook his hand and told him your name. He remarked about how pretty it was and you thanked him before letting the silence settle in again.

“So…tour huh?” you began, anything to stop this silence. His eyes lit up at that, clearly this was something that he loved. “Yeah, me and my friend are in a band and we get to play all over with our friends. I get to do something that I love every night. I guess you could say it’s a pretty cool job.”

“Yeah it sounds like it would be,” then after a thought, “I’d love to hear about it.”

“Sure! Did you want to come in? I was just going to make dinner.”

You were caught by surprise, the blush still evident on your face. “Erm, I should probably put some clothes on.” Josh’s eyebrows lifted, as if just remembering how exposed you were.

“Ha yeah, probably. I’ve gotta shower anyway. Maybe come back in like, half an hour?” The hopefulness in his voice made butterflies flutter in your stomach and you couldn’t help yourself so you agreed. You couldn’t believe that you had come here to give this guy a tongue lashing and instead, it had somehow turned into a dinner together.

Josh’s POV

Josh couldn’t believe that he had just done that. He wasn’t the type to randomly ask a girl he’d never met before to dinner, let alone at his place. He didn’t really know why he did it other than the fact that the girl seemed endearing. He smiled remembering how flushed her face was and how her hair was messy but spilled from her bun in a pretty way. Her chin had been set stubbornly, clearly annoyed with his music, but she seemed to soften instantly. Plus, she smelled really nice. Must have been the bath.

There wasn’t much that he could say other than that he wanted to know more about her. She had given him the perfect opportunity by asking about his tour with Tyler. That would leave plenty for them to talk about over dinner.

He showered quickly and threw on a t-shirt and sweats. He thought about putting his favorite hat on but decided against it. When Josh looked at the clock he realized that Y/N would be here in any minute. Taking a quick look around his apartment it was easy to see that his place was kind of a disaster.

Josh rushed around his apartment collecting Red Bull cans and empty cereal bowls, throwing clothes in his hamper and stuff he couldn’t find a place for quickly enough, he would chuck under his couch or his bed. To finish it off he quickly spritzed the place with his cologne. Hopefully Y/N wouldn’t notice the mess, he’d hate to leave a bad impression.

Your POV

 When Josh answered the door, he was panting slightly and his face was flushed, as if he had been running. You thought nothing of it, and smiled as you walked past him entering his apartment. It was a nice place, clean, and smelling distinctly male. You liked it.

Your eyes were brought to the drum kit in the corner. It was red with little skulls and alien faces on it. You thought it was cute, and when you turned to look at him, he looked even cuter. He stood there smiling like a goof and fidgeting. He must be nervous. You were glad you weren’t the only one.

“Yeah sorry about earlier. I normally play my electric kit when I’m home but sometimes I just need to let off some steam and the acoustic set is much better for that. Hope I didn’t ruin your night.” The two of you walked into the kitchen and Josh began gathering ingredients as he talked.

“No, you didn’t.” Then, after a pause, “There’s still time though.” Josh laughed at your joke, and you decided that you’d like to hear that sound more often.

The two of you worked well together preparing the meal, each taking your own tasks. He talked excitedly about the tour and eagerly answered your questions. You learned about Tyler and the crew. Josh seemed to care about them deeply. He told you how great the fans were, and how he was always a little nervous when he did his stunts, but he always knew that the fans would look out for him. Plus, when he did them without messing up, it made him feel pretty sweet. He described in detail all the places that he’s seen, and that he always tries to explore wherever they go.

“I want to be able to tell my future grandkids about all the cool places I’ve seen, instead of just all the concert halls and arenas, ya know?”

He asked about your life, and you asked about his. You both talked about your style choices, and what type of music you listened to. Josh got excited when he realized you like a lot of the same things. You told him about your cat and he demanded that you let him meet her sometime. The conversation flowed so easily that you both seemed to lose track of time. It was easy being here with Josh, and you felt more relaxed than you would have after a quiet bath.

“Hey, can you grab some plates?” Josh asked while bringing the food to the table.

“Sure, where are they?”

“Top cabinet over there,” he pointed.

You opened the cabinet to see that the plates were on the top shelf. You stood on your toes trying to reach them, puffing lightly. Who puts plates up this high? You always thought you were tall, but you just couldn’t reach them.

“Oh, here, I can get them,” Josh reached above you grabbing the plates, the warmth from his body seeping into your back as he stood behind you to reach them.

“Hey thanks, tall people are great.” You looked away trying to cover up yet another blush.

“We have our uses, glad I can come in handy,” he chuckled.

“Yeah sometimes.”

Josh laughed again. “On occasion.”

“Rarely.”

“Periodically.”

“Not often.”

Josh scoffed, “Once in a while.”

You scoffed back, “In a blue moon.”

“Alternate weeks,” Josh offered.

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Eh, every other month.”

“Seasonally?”

“When you’re in good form, maybe once in a fortnight.”

Josh fell silent, thinking of his retort. You tried your best to suppress a smile. “Hard to top fortnight.”

“Boom!” you shouted, bursting into laughter. Josh couldn’t help but laugh with you as well. It was a lovely, deep sound that made your heart swell. His smile made his eyes get all squinty and you could have sworn that it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“How tall are you anyway?” you asked him, placing the plates that he had handed you on the table.

Josh’s eyes met yours, his expression completely serious. “5ft 5.”

You were overtaken again by a fit of giggles as you plopped into your chair. Josh giggled too in a sound that was more like air blowing through his nose. He was clearly taller than that, but you enjoyed the way he avoided the question. He was clever. As you continued to laugh, he took your plate and began piling heaps of food onto it. You knew you wouldn’t be able to finish all of that, but it was a sweet gesture.

The two of you ate, talked, and laughed some more throughout the evening. You couldn’t remember the last time that you had enjoyed spending time with someone this much. For a few hours, you could forget about the stress of your job, and the nagging from your parents. You didn’t worry about the way you looked, or that you weren’t as well off as your peers. You were simply content, and you realized that that was a perfect state to be in.

When it was time to go, Josh stood with you at the door. “I’m glad you decided to hang out tonight, Y/N.” he said quietly. You smiled down at your hands and told him that you were glad too. Before you could realize what was happening, Josh bent down and pecked a kiss onto your lips. It was too quick, you thought, you wanted more. Before he could pull away, you grasped his shirt gently and tugged him towards you, planting your lips on his. They were so soft and molded perfectly to yours. Warmth bloomed in your stomach like a sunflower eager for the morning. When you finally pulled away, you were both a little breathless. Josh’s eyes sparkled as he looked down at you. You had a feeling that you looked the same. How was he so perfect? 

After clearing your throat, “Hey, um, maybe I can come over sometime and watch you drum?” Your nerves made your voice pitch up towards the end of your question. Josh smiled kindly and nodded. “You mean you won’t get annoyed by all the noise?”

You shook your head. “I’m beginning to see the beauty of the drums.” After all, if it wasn’t for them, you wouldn’t have knocked on his door. You wouldn’t have been able to meet this boy with the wide smile, bright hair, and gentle soul. Yes, you thought you could get could get used to the noise. No, not noise, music.

“How’s tomorrow sound?” he asked grasping your hand in his. It seemed to fit perfectly there.

“Tomorrow it is.” You replied with a small smile.

“Get back safe,” he told you, a little bit of worry in his expression. You laughed, “I’m just downstairs.”

“Yeah but, just, you know.” He rubbed his hand through his hair roughly, his nerves returning.

“Okay Josh, I’ll be careful.”

Before you turned to leave, Josh brought your hand up to place a quick kiss on your knuckles with a grin. This had turned out to be the most relaxing night ever. Now you just wondered how you’d ever be able to fall asleep.

#josh dun #josh dun x reader #fanfic #fluff #cute #twenty øne piløts #twenty one pilots #drummer #datenight #fem reader #joshua dun #jishwa #jish #josh dun imagine

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Same As It Always Is - Part 3

A/N: Written for @spnbuddywriters Annoy the Characters Writing Challenge. Our prompt this time was to include ‘someone taking up two seats on public transport so she had to stand’ and to try and annoy our character as much as possible. This is the third and final part to this ‘mini series’.

Part One - by @hanny-writes-spn Part Two - by @melonshino

Characters: Dean x Reader (kind of), Sam.

Warnings: Language… I think that's it...

Wordcount: 2078

*not my GIF*

 Getting back to the motel you had decided that a cab was your best option, so you had ordered Dean to sit down while he waited. The ride had gone fairly okay, except he knocked himself in the head with the car door as he was climbing in, and he tripped as he got out. He managed to stay on his feet, but he was growing angrier by the second.

“You sit down and don't move a muscle,” you ordered as the two of you walked through the door to your room. Sam was looking at you like he wanted to know why Dean had a black eye and a large bump on his forehead. “Don't even ask,” you sighed, getting a beer from the fridge. Yes, it was still early in the day, but if you were gonna put up with Dean you needed something to keep you calm.

“So, I was thinking we might be dealing with a haunted or cursed object. I don't think a ghost would be able to move around like this if not attached to something,” Sam said, looking between you and Dean, both of you waiting for him to continue. “Everyone who has died are linked to the store in some way, owner, delivery driver, the ones who died before we got here was regulars.” Sam ticked them off on his fingers. “It all leads back to Same As It Never Was.” 

“But I didn't take anything from there, so it can't be haunted,” Dean chimed in. He looked so defeated where he sat, slouched down on the bed.  

“You touched a hell of a lot, though,” you pointed out, both brothers agreeing.

“So we’re going with cursed object.”

You and Dean started to comb through the inventory lists again, this time trying to add items to the buyers. You knew that Dean had fallen into a lot of antique instruments, but there was no way of knowing which one had delivered the curse. Sam was online trying to find a curse that could describe what Dean was suffering from, but with so many cursed items around the world it was damn near impossible. After an hour or so online, Sam put his time to better use and went out to find the materials he needed to make a curse-box. He still had the instructions from Bobby and he was fairly certain that he could make one.

You and Dean stayed back, hoping to find whatever it was that had cursed him. 

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” you asked as Dean stood from his seat, worried that he would hurt himself somehow.

“I'm going to the bathroom, if that's okay with you?” he bit back. You couldn't really blame him for being a bit short, you had all seen the outcome of this curse, and even if you didn't have a timeline on this yet, you were pretty sure this wasn't something you lived long with.

“Yeah…” you said, an apologetic look on your face. “Just… sit down.”

Dean rolled his eyes and let out a very audible sigh before turning around, just barely avoiding crashing into the open door, before disappearing into the bathroom.

You just shook your head at him, concentrating on the long list in front of you. You knew that the Item had to be in the shop, or else Dean wouldn't have came in contact with it, so you tried connecting the regular buyers to certain items, looking for something that overlapped. Problem was that several things from the first victims house had been left to the shop in her will, and the second victim had purchased a few of them. He had also left some items to the shop, and then the next buyer had purchased some of the same things… and so it went. In places like this it was normal to find a fair few collectors and certain items attracted many of them, so it wasn't uncommon to have an overlap like this. You were about to put your papers down when your eyes landed on something, your mind finally seeing a connection.

You got up from your chair calling Dean's name. “I think I got something.”

You were standing at the end of Dean's bed when you heard him flush the toilet, your eyes still glued to the paper as Dean emerged from the bathroom. You had no time to react when he stumbled in the doorstep, he tried to stay on his feet making him stagger towards you, losing his balance and taking you down with him. You landed with your back on the bed with a ‘uhmf’, Dean lying on top of you, his lips so close to yours you could feel his warm breath fanning over your face. Under different circumstances this might have been a rather enjoyable situation to find yourself in, but you had no time to waste now.

“I've narrowed it down to an old violin or a wooden flute,” you said, Dean still on top of you.

“It was the wooden flute,” he said excitedly. “I didn't touch the violin until after I had fallen over.”

“Well, then we know what it is.” A large smile on your face.

“I could kiss you right now,” Dean said, mirroring your smile.

Your heart started pounding in your chest at his words. It was silly really, knowing that he probably didn't mean it, but you had dreamt about kissing him for so long now that you couldn't help how your body reacted to him. “Not that that's not tempting at all, but if you kissed me right now, you would probably bite my lip of or something,” you said, trying not to sound too excited about the idea.

“After we get this curse off me then,” Dean said, winking at you before he started to climb off you.

It was hard to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, but you needed to stay focused for a little while longer, at least until Dean got rid of this curse.

**

For the next few hours the three of you were rushing around town trying to find everything you needed for a cleansing ritual. You and Dean went to the local spice shop to get some herbs and stuff while Sam worked on finishing the curse box and getting the flute. Most of the ingredients you found fairly easy, but for the ritual you needed to hold the flute over smoke from the same type of tree that it was made from. Lucky for you, there was good documentation that came with the flute, unlucky for you, it was made from something called African Blackwood, which wasn't exactly indigenous to America.

You and Dean headed for the botanical garden to try your luck. It was like knowing that he was about to get cured, Dean was now a little less clumsy. He was still stumbling over his legs and such, but there had been no blood in hours, which was kind of impressive. The garden was huge and beautiful, blooming flowers in every shapes and colors, massive trees and bushes everywhere, the smell of summer filling your noses. Dean spotted a map right at the entrance and both of you scanned the information to find what you were looking for. Before long you were standing in front of a large tree which, to you, looked like any other tree there.

“So what do we need? Leaves or wood?” you asked in a hushed voice. There was plenty of people all around you, a couple of guards not far away. You really didn't want to get arrested for maiming a tree in a botanical garden.

“Sam didn't say.”

“We better get a little of both then,” sou stated. “So, how do we do this?”

“If you get on my shoulders I think you’ll be able to reach the branches up there,” Dean suggested.

“No way in hell am I getting on your shoulders, you can barely stand on your own.”

Dean sent you a bitch-face that would have made his younger brother really proud. “I don't see that we have any other option here.”

You looked around, but Dean was right. If you managed to sneak in behind the tree you would be hidden from view and then be able to get what you needed without getting caught.

Dean crouched down so that you could climb up on his shoulders before he slowly rose to his feet. He was very wobbly, but also very careful, knowing what was at stake here. You got the leaves and got safely back on the ground and the two of you hurried to meet Sam at the cemetery.

“Why do we always have to be at a cemetery?… In the middle of the night I might add,” you shrugged as you caught up with Sam, who had gotten everything ready.

“Hallowed ground,” he said matter of factly.

“I know..” you sighed. “Still creeps me out a lot.”

Sam mixed everything up in a bowl, added the leaves and lit the whole thing with a match. You had never seen a black flame before, but you hardly had the time to dwell on the beauty of it now. The flame got an extra boost as Dean threw the flute on the fire, making sparks fly from it. Now all you had to do was wait until the flames died down and you could lock the thing in the curse box.

**

It was long after midnight when you all got back to the motel, everyone in a much lighter mood than you had been for the past few days. Normally you would have gotten in the car and started on your journey back to the bunker, but the Impala was at a local garage and wouldn't be ready until tomorrow at the earliest, so you would have to settle for another night in the shabby motel room.     

A customary, celebratory round of beers were had before any of you would even think about going to bed. Dean managed to spill some of his beer and for a second you were worried that the ritual had failed in some way, but Sam assured you that it could take a little while until he was all the way back to normal.

After a few more rounds, you made your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed, you changed out of your jeans and t-shirt and into a flannel pair of pajama pants (the Winchesters were starting to rub off on you) and a tank top, brushing your teeth and tying your hair up in a loose bun before heading for bed. Next up was Sam, almost sprinting to the bathroom to get ahead of Dean. 

“I'm gonna turn in,” you said, like that wasn't obvious.

“Hey. We made a deal earlier, remember?” Dean asked.

“What deal?” you asked, pretending not to know what he was talking about. Of course you remember, but you didn't expect him to. He had never shown any interest in you, at least not in that way, so there was no reason for him to do it now.

He was coming towards you in long, determined strides, stopping so close you could feel the heat from his body. You had lost all control of your body, you just stood there, paralyzed by the emerald green eyes that was looking into yours.

“Stop me if I'm crossing a line here,” he said softly, inching closer to you when he didn't get a response.

You had no intention on stopping him. This was it. The moment you had waited for. Finally getting to feel Dean's lips on yours. The universe had other plans though. Just as Dean was about to kiss you, Sam dropped something on the floor of the bathroom, a loud crash startling you both, making you bump your heads together.

“Fuck,” you said as the pain spread across your forehead. Dean looked about as disappointed as you felt, but whatever it was between you just a second ago, the moment had passed. You couldn't help but laugh at the whole thing. It wasn't funny, by any means, but it was pretty darn typical. Dean joined in on you laughter, he too figured that this was a fitting end to what had been a long and crappy case.

Maybe it just wasn't meant to be between the two of you.

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[winterknight1087]

Flower from the Fae (ch 16)

Chapter Title:  Remy, Say Hello to Oblivious's Dates

Summary: Virgil likes plants, but when he goes to investigate a plant his friend, Remy, tells him about, he doesn’t exactly check out the plant. Little does he know that the handsome man he meets there is a fairy who is about to challenge the world Virgil knows.

Word Count: 1677

Chapter Warnings: cursing, Remus (mention), Deceit (mention)

Chapter Pairings: (growing) Romantic LAMP, platonic Sleep/Virgil

AO3 Link      My Writing

A/N: this is chapter 16, so read the first chapter here! 

“Come here,” Virgil said to Galaxy.

She moved over and was moved to the other worktable. She happily started trying to eat a leaf while Virgil looked over a plant he was worried about. It was Halloween, he could be out looking at decorations or helping Remy and Emile prepare their house for the party. But instead, he was here carefully looking over a dead plant. It was the fourth plant to spontaneously die in the past week. Well, at least it distracted him from the things worrying his ever-anxious mind. But what if it’s true…

“Whoa! It’s so pretty in here!”

Virgil spun, accidentally knocking the plant onto the ground as he turned to see who broke in. Standing there were Logan, Patton, and Roman, all dressed as fairies. Roman was the same as the first night Virgil had met him: prince costume with red wings. Logan had dark blue wings while wearing a navy waistcoat, pretty much like some 18th-century royal advisor would wear. Patton had on a long silvery-blue dress, matching the same time period as Logan’s but he had a soft sky-blue pair of wings.

“What the hell!” Virgil gasped.

“You called out ‘come in’ after we knocked?” Roman answered, confused.

Virgil leaned against his worktable, trying to regulate his breathing. “Only thing I’ve said in the past hour was come here to Gala. I didn’t even hear a knock.”

“Oh, sorry Vee!” Patton said.

“Bitch, you better not be ruining your costume, playing with dirt!”

Taking a deep breath, Virgil rolled his eyes as Remy burst into the greenhouse. Not even aware of doing so, Logan put himself in front of Roman and Patton, feeling the sandman’s energy slam into him. Looks like they were right about Virgil having a sandman for a friend.

“Gurl, that is not what the costume we got you. It was a perfect pick, gurl!”

Virgil snorted, “Pick? I had a choice? I remember distinctly saying that the only way I was wearing the dress you picked as a costume would be if you bought it. I said I wanted to be a vampire, but noooo, you insisted I be a witch.”

“And I bought it for you, along with other cute accessories. You were a vampire last year. Be glad I stopped Emile from doing another group costume. Now, go put the outfit on!”

Virgil rolled his eyes as he moved over to a pot being heated by three heaters. He carefully picked it up and poured the hot water into his thermos and setting a tea bag inside. He had set it up, thinking he’d be able to finish it before people showed up at his place, but he decided to just sip it on the way to the diner instead. The four beings watched in shock as he moved about.

“Bitch, are you actually using the cauldron I got you? I mean, it is usable, but I wouldn’t have thought you’d use it?”

“I don’t have anything else to heat water with right now.”

“Why?”

“Remus.”

Remy made a face. “Alright, say no more.”

“Uh, what?” Patton asked.

“Just use your imagination. The worst thing you can think of is usually tamer for this rat. Now, Anx, are you going to introduce your company?”

“Oh, right, sorry. Remy, this is Patton, Roman, and Logan. Pat, Lo, Ro, this is Remy.”

“Bitch, tonight I’m Crowley! Even you know Good Omens, gurl.”

Virgil looked over Remy, noting only small differences from their normal outfits. “Really? I thought you were my Fairy God-Bitch”

“Bitch, that’s my job the other 355 days of the year. Tonight, I’m Crowley.”

“Sure, good luck with that. I’ll go throw my costume on. Don’t kill each other. Galaxy is still too young to watch murder.”

The four of them glanced at the tiny kitten trying to clean her paw. While they were distracted, Virgil slipped through the door leading into the house and went to his bedroom to change. He scowled at the dress. It wasn’t a bad costume, but he really wasn’t comfortable dressing like a witch right now. Don’t think of it right now, Anx. Still, he pulled it on and went to finish his make-up. He couldn’t think of a good enough reason, even for himself, not to wear the costume. It was just an uneasy feeling about it. But…

There was an awkward tension in the greenhouse. Remy ignored the three fairies as they wiped the cauldron dry and started filling it with a small hand warmer under some bedding and herbs. With that, they summoned some sand to rub around the cauldron before harshly knocking on it, only to hear nothing. That should keep the cauldron fairly quiet for the kitten during the party.

Once they were sure it would be comfortable, they pulled out a set of kitten-sized wings and a purple bow from their pocket. They carefully placed them on the kitten, cooing at how well behaved she was and how cute she looked. They kissed the precious kitten before placing her into the comfy cauldron. Gala stared up at them, just two blue eyes staring out from the void. Remy huffed, amused. Black cats were the cutest.

Logan cleared his throat. “So…”

Remy glanced at them, pleased to see they were at least a little nervous. “I have no interest in fighting but if you lot hurt Virgil, I will not rest until you have suffered. He is basically my little brother by now and I take my job as older sibling seriously, even if it is self-appointed roles. Clear?”

“We have no intention of hurting him either,” Roman answered calmly.

“If I may ask, were you the one to send him the box of information?” Logan asked, cautiously. “And if so, why?”

“I was in on the idea,” Remy answered, watching them carefully. “And his powers are starting to develop. I can tell you three have your own plan on trying to get through his oblivious mind. What is it.”

Patton shifted uncomfortably. “We were going to tell him the truth. We want to ask if he wants to join us as our witch.”

“You lot have his name, so why haven’t you forced him into it?”

“Only Patton received his name. First name. For something like that, we would need his full name to force him into it.” Logan answered.

Remy relaxed against the table. “I wish you lot luck with that. I’ve known that boy since he was thirteen. Even my fabulous fifteen-year-old self couldn’t get that out of him. Which, I assume means you lot need his voluntary acceptance to go around the name complication. He isn’t going to take the information kindly, I can tell you right now. We’ve been taking it slow since he got this kitten and we still haven’t even addressed that magic is real.”

“So, is he really just that oblivious then?” Patton asked, softly.

“Only towards magic-related stuff.”

Roman stared at Remy suspiciously. “Why are you being so open with this information, Sandman?”

“I really wish there was some accepted gender-neutral of sandman. Like Sandbeing. There are women who do this job. There are non-binary beings who do this job.” Remy commented before looking at the prince in the eyes. “I’m giving you this information so all of us are on the same page. We all care about Virgil and so if I can share something that keeps you three from accidentally hurting him, I will spill. I expect the same in kind from you lot. Our people can hate each other as much as they want, even if Sandmen are the most neutral in that fight. I don’t care about them. I care about my dumbass best friend who has too big a heart and too much untapped magic now revealing itself to the world for his own good.”

“Mew!”

“Thanks for having a gurl’s back, Galaxy.” Remy looked at the fairy in navy. “I assume you’re Logan. Meaning you’re the one who discussed fairies with him. Anything you want to spill?”

“Uh… No? Maybe ask you how you’ve not strangled him for his obliviousness, but otherwise no.” Logan answered, awkwardly.

“Gurl, you just earned a good place in my book.” Remy laughed.

“I am not a girl. Why do you keep using that? Please do not refer to me as a girl.”

“Boi, I call everyone, but those who prefer not to be called gurl, gurl” Remy immediately switched. “Still, Dee and I have been asking that same question for years.”

“Great, lots of help, thanks.” Logan deadpanned.

“Now, on to a different topic.” Remy turned to the prince. “Gurl, why in the name of every Gucci fashionista goddess out there are you in such drab clothing?”

“Excuse me, but my outfit is amazing, unlike your rags.”

“Bitch, I’m at least dressed as a TV show character. Did your personal clothing-designer take a day off on Halloween? At least those two look like traditional fairies.”

“Well, I’m not sure if I expected anything different.”

The four of them turned to look at Virgil. He had a black cocktail dress on with a rich violet corset tied with silver ribbon right in the middle of it. Trailing from all but the exact front of the corset was the same shade of violet, flowing material that would look a bit like a cloak as Virgil walked. The sleeves were a see-through black material that had silver protection runes stitched into them. His black pointed hat had a purple band around it with a silver flower rather than a buckle. Remy was pleased that he had included the long necklace with a crescent moon. He didn’t have the black platform heels Remy tried forcing on him, but rather slip on black flats.

“Wow,” three love-struck voice whispered.

“See, gurl. I told you they’d love it. I know what looks good on my babes.” Remy said proudly. “Now, let’s head to dinner. Dee and Emile should have finally convinced Remus to put pants on by now.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @that-one-nb-kid, @hufflepuffxfox

#Flower from the Fae #remus mention #deceit mention #tw cursing #LAMP #Sage writes