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vixxiu · 9 months

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This compass aims at you

Too many high schoolers keep getting lost in the woods while trying to have some private time and what is the best way to solve the issue? Organize an orienteering session in the woods! Of course, Steve had to be paired with Eddie the freak Munson

warnings: swearing, our boys argue and Eddie gets a little mean (but only for a little bit)

Apparently, Hawkins’ police had a new problem to solve: more and more teenagers were getting lost in the woods while trying to find some place where to be alone. Despite being a small town, Hawkins kept facing a big number of problems, almost as if it was cursed and Jim Hopper’s men didn’t have time to spend a few hours every week looking for horny teenagers who didn’t pay attention to where they were walking while making out.

The school first attempt at stemming the issue was a terrible sex-ed course which didn’t give any useful information and could be summarized as “Don't have sex, because you will get pregnant and die”.

Obviously, it didn’t work, and the teachers decided to try a different approach: organize an orienteering session in the woods for the older students.

When it was announced a mandatory sport-related event, Steve was elated because finally there was something he was good at, only to find out they weren’t going to practice his kind of sport, but hey, everything was better than normal school.

The day of the orienting trial arrived way too fast and even if the sky was dark and angry, it didn’t get cancelled. No one seemed particularly happy to be at the edge of the forest, nor the students nor the teachers, so everyone tried to start the event as quickly as possible, hoping to be able to get home sooner than a normal day. They were divided into couples, given a map, a compass, a strong whistle and sent off to the woods.

Steve knew he wasn’t the best person in the world, but damn, karma was working quickly. Just yesterday, he watched Tommy teasing some poor freshman and didn’t intervene and now his punishment was here. It didn’t matter if Steve wasn’t his friend anymore, it wasn’t enough. He knew he had to start standing up for others, but the old ways were hard to abandon, and it was even harder to change high school dynamics.

So, as a compensation for all the things he had done, destiny paired him up with the worst possible option: the town freak, the drug dealer, the one and only Eddie Munson.

Truth to be told, Eddie seemed even less enthusiast than Steve as they started to walk without even exchanging a single world.

They kept advancing in silence and weirdly communicating with gestures as if they were cavemen, pointing at the map and at the compass at regular intervals.

Only Eddie sometimes dared to change his behaviour by kicking every pinecone he found and mumbling under his breath, as if working with Steve was the worst thing ever.

Being a weirdo, Steve was sure Eddie was used at awkward silences, but Steve wasn’t. He hated them, it made him feel as if the other person was regretting spending time with him and since a young age, he knew the only things he was good at were sports and being popular, so if people didn’t like him anymore, what was left for him?

Eddie had all the reasons to be angry at him and not wanting to talk, and yet Steve found himself trying to start a conversation and light up the mood.

“If you like kicking stuff so much, maybe you could try soccer…” he tried to sound cheerful, not to give the impression he was mocking the other.

“The only things I like to kick are pinecones and jocks’ asses” Okay, so this attempted connection went bad, really bad. So what? Fuck Eddie Munson. Steve was just trying to be nice. He could be an asshole, if Eddie wanted him to be. He kinda wanted to reply with a mean snark to shut the other down and it required all his effort to remember he was trying to be a nicer, different person. He was still irritated, though.

They soon reached the deepest part of the forest and they both needed to watch their feet not to trip. This didn’t stop Eddie from still kicking pinecones and the repetitive action was starting to be annoying. However, Steve decided to shut up. At least, until the metalhead hit one with too much strength, making it bouncing back on a tree before it hit Steve right on the face.

“What the hell, man? Can you fucking stop doing stupid things for one minute? I get that you hate me, but if you keep being this difficult, it will take even more time to get out of this fucking woods”

“No, King Steve, you don’t get it. You are not stuck for a whole afternoon with one of the people who daily make your life a living hell”

“I’ve never done anything to you” “Oh, you didn’t? Then, I guess was your evil twin who laughed as Hagan pushed me against the locker and took my clothes while I was showering after P.E.” “I’m not friends with them anymore”

“And do you think it is enough to make us good? Because it doesn’t. People like you don’t change.”

Steve felt his cheeks heating as the other exposed all his weaknesses. A part of him wanted to say something back, but deep down, he knew Eddie was right. He was an asshole and was being delusional pretending he could become a better person.

After this exchange, the awkward silence was back at full force. Even the gentle sounds of nature seemed to vanish as Eddie’s words echoed into Steve mind.

He was well aware that Eddie was right and yet part of him didn’t want to accept that it was the truth. He was really trying to change, and he didn’t want to believe all of his efforts were pointless.

“Do you seriously think I don’t know you are right? But what can I do? I can’t change what I’ve done, but at least I can try my best from now one”

Eddie laughed humorless.

“Wow, Harrington, such pretty words… and yet tomorrow, nothing will change at school. You will still look at Hagan bullying freshmen without intervene”

Shame washed over Steve even more than before. If they were not stuck in a forest, he would have run away. Eddie had a way with his words that made Steve felt bare in front of the whole world.

This is not was Steve was expecting from this orienteering session, this was not what he was expecting from Eddie. He couldn’t help but wonder how much he has misjudged the other. Behind the long hairs and tattoos, behind the rants in the cafeteria there was a lot more than expected and Steve felt struck by it.

So much so, that when they restarted walking and communicating only with brief gestures, his eyes kept wandering back to the other. He stole small glances while being as subtle as possible.

Eddie was actually really pretty and for someone like Steve, it was easy to see he also took time and effort to style his look. His locks were wild but soft and his pants hugged his legs in the best way possible.

Steve was taking in Eddie’s long lashes and cute nose, when his eyes wandered to the map.

Fuck, they were reading the map in the wrong way, they were completely astray.

Steve cleared his throat: “Ehm…”

Eddie turned to look at him with annoyance clear in his eyes.

“You are keeping the map upside down”

“I’m not”

Steve took a step closer and warily invaded Eddie’s space to point stuff on the paper sheet.

“We started here and we need to get to this point, if we were in the right direction, we would have met skull rock by now, also we didn’t see the clearing indicated here”

Eddie threw the map on the ground and screamed at the sky. Steve wondered if he had to worry, but after this outburst the other collected the sheet from the ground and started walking again, a tight smile on his lips as if he couldn’t really process the bad news he had just received.

Still, they turned around and with a big sigh, they moved towards the right direction.

The whole route was supposed to take around 2 hours, but who knows how much longer they needed to walk at that point. Luckily, summer just ended and therefore the days were still long, and even if the air was already starting to get chillier, they probably had another couple of hours before dawn.

They were moving at a brisk speed, already being stuck together for too long. And then small droplets hit their head; at the beginning it was almost a nice refreshing drizzle and neither of them addressed it, but suddenly it increased and it felt as if buckets of ice-cold water were being purposely thrown at them. Luckily there were no lightnings.

Still, no one addressed the big weather problem, up until the found themselves near a bunch of rocks and both turned at the same time to look at the other, before kneeling to crawl beneath them.

It wasn’t as nice as skull rock, but it was good enough. It smelled like rotten leaves and their hairs immediately got smeared with spiderwebs, but at least they could sit conformably and wait.

The view of the forest from their shelter was really pretty: they could see water bouncing off the leaves and the birds resting in the deepest part of the foliage. The sound of the rain was incredibly relaxing and Steve knew he was always going to associate the smell of wet soil with this forest.

It felt like a liberating experience.

Steve almost forgot he wasn’t alone, until the smell around him changed drastically.

Of course, Musun had to light a joint.

Truth to be told, Steve had been so much on the edge all afternoon that he would have liked to get a bit stoned, but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe Eddie was going to give him some.

Eddie was inhaling and exhaling slowly, his eyes closed. And for some strange reason, Steve wasn’t able to stop staring at him.

When Eddie changed position, it startled Steve and he was even more surprised as he noticed that the other had extended an arm to give him his blunt. Probably Eddie felt his questioning stare because he scrolled his shoulder and said: “this is the worst situation that could have happened and I just can’t stay sober. Also, I was pretty harsh out there. Don’t get me wrong, you deserve all I said, but I could have expressed myself better”

Steve took a drag “You’re wrong: this is not the worse afternoon ever. We could have been paired with Hargrove”

Eddie groaned and then let out a small laugh. “True that, what an bastard. Or Hagan”

“Or Hagan” Steve agreed.

They kept passing the joint back and forth, while observing the rain and feeling incredibly relaxed.

“I bet you weren’t that happy about being paired with the town freak either” Eddie added, his voice suddenly was smaller than usual. “I bet you wanted some girl to bring to skull rock and kiss”

“Actually, I didn’t even think about that…”

“Sure, cause you don’t need to. Every girl drops at your feet, you don’t need to think about good opportunities. It could have been a great afternoon for me, man”

“I’m sorry for ruining your imaginary chances, Munson”

Eddie just scoffed, shaking his head and Steve felt too relieved noticing the other didn’t seem to hate him as much anymore.

Time kept passing and the air around their shelter was getting darker. Without even noticing, they ended up moving closer, as their wet clothes made them feel cold.

Eddie started moving his legs and arms, trying to create some heath. He even ended up emptying him pockets to see if there was something useful, indeed there was the whistle and they tried to use it, but no human seemed to be close enough.

In the end, Eddie just put everything back but a small object and started playing with it.

“That’s a D20!” Steve exclaimed as he grabbed the thing right from Eddie’s hands to observe it better.

“No, it’s my D20” The metalhead replied, stealing the dice right back “and how on Earth do you know what a D20 even is?

“I kinda babysit a bunch of shit heads who are too much into Dungeons and Demons”

“It’s Dungeons and Demons, Steve” holy shit, this was the first time Eddie used his name, maybe it was the weed, but it felt nice. “and how do you kinda babysit kids?”

Steve started to explain. “One time I gave a ride to Nancy Wheeler’s baby brother and his friends and now they keep pestering me about and demanding rides and stuff. They are really annoying”

“And yet you are smiling, Stevie”

Busted. Steve loved to complain, but he actually enjoyed spending time with those prepubescent weirdos, especially since he didn’t have almost any friends left.

“I guess they are nice sometimes” Steve conceded. “They even baked me a cake from my birthday. It tasted like ass, but it was a nice gesture. They are still shitheads, tho”

“Ooooh, I’m sure they are”

Eddie was smirking and Steve felt himself reciprocating the smile. A few moments passed and they kept smiling and staring at each other. Eddie looked friendly and his big brown eyes were way too pretty.

Then suddenly, Eddie moved, mumbling a string of “nonononononononono…”. He basically jumped out of the shelter and started walking back and forth under the rain.

“What the fuck, Munson! Get back here! I can’t carry you on my back if you get sick”

All Steve’s words got wasted, as the other didn’t minimally acknowledge what he had just said.

With a sigh, Steve stood up and walked closer to Eddie just to place a hand on his shoulder.

Eddie reacted as if he had been burned. He moved away rapidly as if he was trying to get as much space as possible between the two of them.

“Don’t get closer, Harrington.”

“So we’re back to Harrington now, good” It was not good. It felt like a punch in the guts. For a moment, Steve actually believed they could become friends. What an idiot he was. “I’m sorry if I did something that upset you, I didn’t want to… listen, I’m really trying to change, even if it’s hard and almost impossible”

“You did nothing wrong, Steve!” Eddie replied almost yelling and moving his arms in big dramatic motions.

“I saw you at school, all right? And I saw you at the arcade with that bunch of kids. I can see you are trying to change and this is honestly fucking me up”

“I’m sorry, I guess?” “Don’t you dare be fucking sorry! I can’t take it!” Steve was seriously so confused. “it was so easy to keep my crush under control when you were just a hot asshole! But no, you had to become a hot nice guy! Fuck my life”

Oh. Oooooh.

So that was the issue. Steve was good at this. Steve was good at flirting and romance and he could already feel a smirk spreading on his face.

Except that Eddie interpreted the expression in the worst way possible: he suddenly looked terrified, as if the reality of what he just said was crushing down on him all at the same time.

Steve had to do something.

“I and Tommy used to kiss all the time”

Eddie stopped freaking out all at once.

“Wh-what? You and Hagan???”

“Yes, I’m bi. And I kinda like freckles, even if Tommy is a big bitch”

Eddie opened his mouth to speak, but just before he could say another word, the light of strong torches illuminated them.

“I knew this was a terrible idea” Jim Hopper had appeared from the woods with a few other men and was handing them a couple of raincoats “Come one, idiots, you two are the only ones still missing”

If while walking to the police car, Eddie and Steve kept bumping into each other as their hands subtly touched no one noticed.

Sure, it had been a weird afternoon, but in the end, Steve got a boyfriend out of it and they also had their personal make-out rock, so he wasn’t complaining

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #fic #steddie fic #my stuff

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tqmlecherocuki · 9 months

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My mind is all over the place aaa

Milk made little pinecone birdy things and customized it to look like both himself and Choco (he did not make them kiss). Milk kept it hidden because maybe Choco would think he is weird n uh, essentially did some rp's by himself, not the “Milk: “ohh milk ur so handsomeee” said dark choco”” kind because no. He just played around, often putting them in scenarios where they beat up ultimate evils, sometimes he'd say too much like those characters in movies where they blurt out the plot to the protags only to be disposed of later, but, with feelings instead.

(example:

Milk, acting as his bird self: “Aw man that was so cool, Choco! I uh, really find this chance to have taken flight, and fight and live alongside you truly gratifying and It really makes me feel like. I could tell you anything! Like, how I, uh, bird things... I wish to have a flock that involves you, forever! But, that can unmistakably be interpreted as being clingy! Or- or pathetic! Creepy! Awful! Which is why I am not really saying these things to you! Because I value our friendship! And you are your own person! And that means you have personal desires which obviously do not involve me! and I will support and respect that!!! however I cannot help feeling melancholic about the thought of us parting!! Again!! But its fine!!!”)

Well, Choco walked in one of his sessions, they were just looking for some clay to make pots for flowers, and they saw Milk poorly making action sfx's with his mouth while flailing his arms around with the pinebirds and he turned around while holding the pinebirds in each hand, they stared at eachother awkwardly before Choco glanced at the crafts in his hands and soon came to the realization of what they were (Milk put a bit too much cotton on his bird) and pointed at their doppelganger bird (Milk put a cape on the bird) and opened their hand to receive the bird, Milk hesitated a little, but, while looking at the floor, hiding his face with his curls, gave the wooden avian to the muse it was based on. Choco examined the bird, let out a chuckle, and asked: “You were playing... and this is me, yes?” the crafter did not respond, he just nodded sadly “...Well.” they moved to the table where Milk was playing and set their wooden self down “...Shall we resume?” Milk felt as if a shock of motivation went through him and stared dumbfoundedly at the person now beside him, they grinned at such a peculiar reaction. He scrambled out of his chair, almost falling, at the realization of the other player lacking a seat of their own. They could not help, but, smile warmly, at the anxious, yet excited man... Child-like fun seemed like a distant thing nowadays... yet, here it is. How nice.

#darkmilk #spamming th darkmilk tag cuz. there is nothing. nothing i can see.#❄️.headcanons

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flame-x · 1 year

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do you have any bomba headcanons

hell yes of course i do sorry it took me so long to answer!

Demeter is her sister and they're inseparable! Bomba's the older one and Griz is their mother. Victoria is their half-sister though they don't know it. Demeter has the bigger grudge against Grizabella for abandoning them

Cettie and Electra are her daughters!

She's a disaster bi and Hysperia is her mate. (Although past Tuggerlurina was a thing but now they're just friends who flirt- a lot)

She never joined Macavity- she stayed with the tribe

She has owners and lives in the same neighbourhood as Demeter

Her den is by far the most luxurious in the Junkyard- it's full of blankets and pillows and stuffed animals and other toys the girls found over the years. Easily one of the most lived-in dens in the Junkyard. There’s always somecat inside, visiting the inhabitants. The walls are decorated in a red, romantic theme, with little scraps of luxurious fabric here and there. But Bombalurina’s prize position is a jewelled cat crown, gifted to her by her owners (she knows they aren’t real jewels, but she likes to pretend they are. Besides, it’s sparkly, so she doesn’t really care anyway). Etcetera has a collection of nature-y things in one corner— since the Junkyard is in a city, she likes to collect what she can. She has one large pinecone she found on one of her first patrols she particularly favours, and a few nice dried flowers from when Bomba went through a flower-pressing phase. Electra likes to keep books she finds and try to make sense of the words. She’s making progress, but she’s nowhere near as accomplished as Demeter, who is by far the best at reading in the tribe, followed by Quaxo. Hysperia moves in at some point, and she adds slightly more colour to the den— golds and rose-golds in particular. She also brought little figures made of china she’s collected over time— they sit up on a ledge near the roof, out of harm’s way. (Also more cushions!)

Her favourite colour is of course red, although she's partial to deep, royal purple too

These are all canon in my au

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pbandjesse · 2 years

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We are in a water boiling advisory. Ugh. If I get sick I'm going to be so upset. We are right outside of the zone they think was actually effected but they don't know where the contamination happen or why so we can't really know yet. They really should have sent a text blast. James only found out because of Twitter. They boiled us some water just in case but man. Frustrating.

Today was not a bad day though. I felt a lot better. I didn't have any weird heat waves or nausea. I slept okay though I woke up a lot. Waking up was hard. I think some of that was allergies and not having enough oxygen all night because of that. I cannot wait to take the ac out of our window and it be cool in here again. I will miss the white noise but that is alright.

James came in the room when I woke up and tried to cheer me up as I was a little cranky. They made the bed while I got washed and dressed. I went to have a breakfast snack while they decided to take a morning shower.

I did some stuff online. And we chilled. And decided to leave here closer to 11 to go on our wedding decoration adventure.

The drive out to IKEA was good. It was a beautiful day honestly. We put in a podcast and it was a good day. It's labor day! So I was texting my dad a lot of memes. Just trying to keep his spirits high. Tomorrow is his big surgery. I really hope this gives him his life back. He deserves it.

IKEA was fun but made me a little stressed. We went through the show room and it was fun looking at stuff but it made me feel stressed by all of my possessions. Like the rooms are so pretty and organized. And right now my apartment is not because so much is in flux. Like it will be fine. I will get it handled. But still.

We got all the candles we need for the wedding and that was exciting. We got 120 so each table will have 12 give or take. We did not find the garland the internet said they sold. But that was okay.

We went to go look at the return/discounted area we ran into one of James's groomsmen! It was their friend Gabe and his girlfriend. It was so nice to see them and it was very serendipitous. They were buying new furniture because they are moving to North Carolina at the end of October. I'm happy for them but also sad James's friend is leave the city. At least they get to be in the wedding still.

We chatted for a bit before we checked out. Gabe works in an er and was really shocked hearing about my dad. He wished him luck tomorrow.

And then me and James went and got veggie hotdogs. James went to help them load their furniture in their car while I ate my ice cream cone. And James came back and we had our nice little lunch before we were off again.

We were going to go right to joann's but there was a Michaels closer so we decided to stop there to see if their garland stock was better. It was much the same as the one I went to yesterday. Plus Michaels doesn't have the best coupons anymore. So we bounced and went to joann's.

And wow. We both only found some beautiful and carried garland, all of it was in sale. They were having labor day sales and door busters. We got two of each. Some white flowers. Some little pumpkins. Very fancy Halloween dark blue with lotus pods and pinecones. I'm really excited. I think these will all look a lot more full and that makes me feel a lot better. I wish there was a way to see what all the tables will look like so I know we have enough stuff. But that's okay. I think we will be good.

We headed home. James wanted to ride their bike before it started to rain. I wanted to clean out the car first since it started raining a little while we were on the highway home.

So James brought everything inside and I collected everything extra in the car. Trash, stuff, a dozen masks, paper, so many straws. And then while James started vacuuming, I started Clorox wiping every surface. The vaccum battery doesn't last long enough but James got a lot of it done. I think we should go to the gas station and use their vacuum before Friday. Well see if that happens. At least it's getting cleaned.

We came up stairs and I felt a little woozy from being hot. But I had some water and sat in front of the fan and felt better. James got ready to go on their bike ride. And I laid on the couch.

Eventually I started cleaning the apartment. Cleared out the kitchen again because Mr Will is supposed to come tomorrow. I would vacuum the apartment once the battery was charged. We cleaned the kitty litter and James took the whole thing outside to wash with water when they got back. That was very nice of them.

It was a productive afternoon. Eventually James would go to the store to get groceries. And I cut my hair and took a shower while they were gone. I trimmed my bangs just a little shorter then normal so they grow in nice, chopped some dead ends, put some layers back in. Felt nice. I double washed my hair and that was the move for sure. My scalp feels great.

When I got done in the shower James was just about home. They would make us a pizza. And I would do some studio cleaning. I finally got the last piece of boarder on our wedding banner and James got all the shapes for the letters cut. I love the green drop shadow. Still work to be done but I'm excited.

James played DND while I did some organizing in our room. I sorted out my PJs and chose some outfits. Feeling better about my packing list for this weekend. I'm going to throw some of it in the wash since it's been hanging in the closet so long. We'll get that done tomorrow. I think. I'm not sure now that we're on this water advisory. Hopefully it ends quickly.

I am going to get ready for sleep now. I hope you all sleep great. Put some positive energy out into the world for my dad. He's been through so much. And we love him so much. Sleep well everyone. Goodnight!!

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amitlee · 3 years

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Hi! I saw your request where open. And I’ve been having sever brain rot. What about a Ler! Karlnapity and Lee! Tommy fic? If not that is absolutely ok. Your writing it awesome!

Reassurance

Warnings: Panic attacks, tickling.

Summary: Tommy has a panic attack and Sapnap finds him. He brings him over to his shared house to ensure he’s alright.

Just a fair warning, I didn’t proof read this.

———————————————————————

The weather outside was beautiful. The sky was clear with the occasional cloud, the cool temperature of fall wrapped around Tommy as he sat on the grass. Which would’ve been nice on a normal day, but this was not a normal day. There was nothing special about today itself, just an off day for Tommy.

For him, the sky was mocking him, the sun causing him to need to shield his eyes. The weather was just cold enough to cause chills to run through his system. The leaves crunching beneath every foot step taunted him, telling him the sad story of a boy and a beach.

Tommy felt his throat tighten as tears stung his eyes. The familiar feeling of not being able to catch his breath caught up to him and before he knew it, he was seated on the ground, rocking himself back and forth.

His thoughts swirled into a hideous symphony of untrustful men. Dream, Techno, Wilbur, even his own father. He was betrayed by them all. He had no one to call his family, practically orphaned for his own safety.

He held these people in his thoughts as he sobbed and gasped for air. He knew he should’ve known better than to come out on a day like this. He was always prone to overstimulation and had never learned how to deal with such intense feelings.

His nails dug into the palm of his hand from where he had them in fists. He hit the ground, suddenly overcome with anger, only to hit a pinecone and feel pain shoot through his hand.

He broke down even more, of course that pinecone had to be placed right where he chose to sit. What kind of idiot doesn’t realize what’s around them? How could he have been so foolish as to physically lash out in his anger fueled haze? He screamed, completely overwhelmed. And, that’s when a light appeared at the end of the narrow tunnel.

“Hello?” An unknown voice called out from somewhere in the woods.

Tommy’s head shot up, “H-Hello.” He called back to them. His voice was quieter than he anticipated and rough from the past few minutes.

He heard the crunching of leaves getting closer to him and couldn’t help but feel hopeful that it may be someone who would love him. At least for a little while.

“Oh my god.”

Tommy turned his head to see who’d spoken. The figure of Sapnap stood in the vision. The man looked slightly frightened.

“Sapnap,” Tommy cried as he pushed himself up to his knees. Sapnap met him half way, taking the boy in his arms as his body, once again, was wracked with cries.

Sapnap held Tommy tightly in his arms. If he had it his way, he’d never let go of the broken image in front of him. “Shh, shh. It’s alright, Tommy. It’s all going to be okay.” He tried to calm the boy. He gently rubbed his back, hoping to help ground him.

“I’m so sorry,” Tommy stuttered out, feeling guilty for taking Sapnap’s time.

Sapnap shook his head, “Don’t be sorry. Please let me help you.” He tightened his embrace around Tommy as if scared he’d disappear.

Together, they went through calming exercises such as counting and knowing your surroundings. Once Tommy had calmed down, he was absolutely exhausted. Him and Sapnap sat on the forest floor and Tommy laid down to set his head in Sapnap’s lap.

Sapnap carded a hand through Tommy’s hair as he leaned back on a nearby tree. “I’m proud of you, Tommy. That was a hard thing to go through and you got through it.” He said genuinely.

Tommy wiped at his eyes, but weakly smiled nonetheless. “Thank you.” He sniffled, “Everything just got up to me, I guess. It’s so loud and it’s cold, and it’s too bright sometimes, and no one will stay with me.” He rambled on, feeling his breath puck back up.

Sapnap set a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, squeezing it. “I understand, things can pile up. But you have to talk to someone, Tommy, and I’d be glad to be that person.”

A pink hue dusted Tommy’s cheeks at the kind words. “Yeah. That’s good with me, or whatever.” He cleared his throat, looking away from his friend.

Tommy heard Sapnap laugh and felt a hand ruffle his hair.

“Alright.” Sapnap clapped his hands, “We’ve got to get you home, you’re absolutely freezing.”

Sapnap felt his heart tug at the scared look on Tommy’s face. “You can stay with us for a bit, we don’t mind.” He patted Tommy’s shoulder and guided him to stand.

The pair walked to Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity’s shared home. They exchanged small talk about various topics on the short walk. In no time, they’d made the journey.

Tommy was nervous. He didn’t know how Quackity and Karl would feel about him intruding in on their private time like this. He was prepared to be turned away to his own house as Sapnap opened the door.

“I’m home! And we have company!” Sapnap shouted to his fiancés. He gave Tommy a reassuring smile.

Karl was the first to greet them, running down the stairs and into Sapnap’s arms. “Sap! How was the trip?” He broke from their embrace and laid his eyes on Tommy.

“Tommy!” Quackity exclaimed, walking into the room with open arms. He took Tommy into a hug, squeezing him quickly before letting go.

“I didn’t see you there, Tom.” Karl said, also giving the boy a quick hug. “What brings you here?”

Tommy looked to Sapnap, who took the hint and answered for him. “Tommy is going to stay with us for a little. I’d feel better having him here with us, if that’s alright with you two of course.”

Quackity’s eyes lit up, “Of course! Thomas, a man after my own heart! Let me show you around.” He swung an arm around Tommy and proceeded to show him around the house. Luckily, the trio had a guest bedroom that was always ready to be used for times like these. Surprisingly, Tommy wasn’t the first person to come to their house under similar circumstances. All three of the men knew what was up, even if two of them were a little confused.

Karl and Sapnap stood by the door, Sapnap waited until Tommy was well out of earshot to explain to Karl what had happened. Karl was very sympathetic, completely understanding and vowing to cheer the boy up as much as he could.

Quackity was later filled in after dinner on the entire situation. All four had eaten together, Karl and Tommy left the other two to do the washing up. Quackity’s reaction was similar to Karl’s, very understanding. He promised to make Tommy feel as comfortable as possible.

Later that night, the four were watching a movie in the trio’s two king sized mattresses that had been pushed together. The bed had plenty of room for the four of them to fit comfortably. Sapnap was beside Tommy, who was beside Karl, who was beside Quackity. Sapnap had made the joke that it was a Tommy and Karl sandwich as he took his spot.

Tommy had been purposely placed beside Karl because he was the touchiest of the group, and therefore would provide the most comfort to the teen.

The atmosphere was calm as the movie played. Everyone was engrossed, well, almost everyone. Karl had gotten bored and decided to cause some light mischief.

He used his hand that had been around Quackity to move closer to the man’s sides. He stayed still for a moment to avoid suspicion before poking once at the skin.

Quackity flinched, looking at Karl, who had turned his attention back to the TV. Quackity leaned further into his fiancé and did the same.

After a moment, Karl moved so his hand was in the same position on Tommy’s side. He poked the boy’s side just how he’d done with Quackity.

Tommy flinched with a quiet squeak, quickly covering his mouth and looking at Karl. Karl had a fond smile on his face, even as he turned back to the movie. The reaction was undoubtedly adorable.

Karl didn’t wait very long to pinch once at both of their sides. Tommy yelped, curling slightly. Quackity batted at Karl’s hand, a giggle seeping out.

“Kaharl,” Quackity said, “You’re being mean,” He whined.

Karl gasped. “Mean. Mean? This would be being mean.” He skittered his hand across Quackity’s belly, paying close attention to the spots that made him squeal.

“KAHAHaharl! My lohohove, plehehease!”

Karl awed but shook his head. “I’m just demonstrating.”

Tommy was flustered to say the least. Seeing someone get tickled to pieces right beside him was not something he was expecting. He yelped as Karl’s hand started to move to his belly as well.

“Don’t worry, Tommy. I didn’t forget about you.” Karl said, digging gently into the flesh.

Tommy quickly dissolved into giggles. The spot and method being quite pleasant. He melted into the touch, not making much of a move to get away.

Sapnap cooed at Tommy’s obvious compliance. “Look at you! All giggly and sweet.”

Tommy shook his head, “ ‘M nohohot gihihiggly!” He covered his face to try and conceal the light pink that dusted his cheeks.

“I dohohon’t knohow, Toms. Yohohou seem gihihiggly tohoho mehehe.” Quackity teased between his own laughter.

Sapnap scoffed, reaching over the squeeze Quackity’s side, “You’re one to talk.”

Now that Sapnap was leaning over Tommy, his entire torso was left vulnerable to the boy, which Sapnap didn’t take note of until he felt nimble fingers prodding at his ribs. He yelled, almost collapsing, and resigned himself to laughter. Tommy had unknowingly stumbled upon one of his death spots.

“TOHOHOMMEHEHE, NOHOHO-“

Tommy had gained confidence, now wiggling his fingers between the bones.

This came to a halt when he felt a squeeze to his knee. He gasped through his giggles. “NOHOho! Nohohot there!”

Sapnap chuckled. “Why, does it tickle?” He moved himself away from Tommy’s reach and began to quickly squeeze the muscle right above his knee.

Tommy convulsed, the sensations much stronger than the ones on his stomach. He tried to lean up, only to be blocked by Karl’s arm wrapping around him.

“I think you deserve this after the stunt you just pulled, mister.”

“I DOHOHON’T! IHIHI DOHOHON’T!” Tommy’s childlike laughter burst into the room, bouncing and filled with squeals. He brought his knees up to his chest. A squeal tore through his throat when Sapnap squeezed his hips, causing him to curl onto his side. “Plehehease, not my knehehees,” He covered his face after the plea, thoroughly flustered.

Sapnap nodded, removing his hands. “We’ll spare you, this time.” He teased.

Karl had stilled his hands on both Quackity and Tommy once the shriek had flooded the room. Leaving Quackity to recover enough to be able to reach across Karl and scratch lightly at Tommy’s neck, making the younger scrunch up with more giggles.

“I won’t!” Quackity said jokingly, his free hand going to skitter across Tommy’s lower back.

“Quackithehehe!” Whihi- NOHOHOT THEHEHERE Q PLEHEHEAHAHA-'' Tommy was lost to laughter once Quackity had drilled his fingers directly in the middle of his back. The tingles erupting and spreading up his spine.

“Awww, little Tom Tom has a ticklish back? How cute.” Karl teased.

Tommy arched his back, sticking his stomach out to be perfect for Sapnap’s hand to vibrate onto. With the tickling on both sides, his laughter went silent and he tapped Karl’s arm, signaling he was done. Karl signaled for the two to stop and cradled the boy in his arms. Sapnap and Quackity rubbed the ghost tickles off Tommy.

Tommy turned around, giggling into Karl’s chest and wrapping his arms around the man. “Thahahank yohou.”

Karl hugged him tighter, “You’re very welcome, Tommy.”

“You can come to us anytime.” Quackity explained, saying that even if they were busy, they’d all have time for him.

Before Tommy fell asleep, he caught Sapnap’s eye. Mouthing a thank you and getting a wink in return along with a kind smile.

———————————————————————

Sorry I didn’t proof read, I wrote this all today and I’m too tired to do it. But I wanted to get it out and I really enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for the prompt and I hope you enjoyed 💕

#mcyt tickle #mcyt tickle fic #tickle fic #ticklecommunity #lee!tommy #lee!tommyinnit #Ler!sapnap #Ler!karl #Ler!karljacobs #Ler!quackity #Ler!karlnapity #dsmpticklefic #dsmp tickle fic

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thegrapeandthefig · 3 years

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Local cultus 2: problem-solving personal practice

Back in 2017 I wrote about my personal local cultus, which was mainly centered around sea gods. It's been 4 years and that post is now completely outdated, since I'm now in a completely different country, not to mention that my practice has also changed a lot. This will not be informative unless you're interested in how I approached the issue. Note that obviously this is stuffed with UPG.

I was living in an environment where the climate was similar enough to Greece that I didn't need to do much tweaking, if at all. That has drastically changed when I moved.

There are two main points that I needed to take into consideration when thinking about adapting my faith to a new land:

what is the local nature like / does traditional flora grow here?

was this land known by the ancients / have the gods been worshipped here?

I went from answering those two interrogations by yes/yes to no/no, and because the nature here is so different, there came the need to find appropriate replacements. Before thinking about replacements, though, I checked what was in common:

Apple tree: sacred to Hera and Aphrodite, easily available.

Barley: For the altar. Finland's biggest cereal production is barley. All good there.

Hazel: Artemis had a grove of "karya" which can mean both hazelnut and walnut.

Oak: sacred to Zeus, easily findable, especially in the south.

Pine: Sacred to Dionysus and Pan. More precisely, (Northern) Greece and Finland only have two pine species in common though, the Scots pine (pinus sylvestris) and the Macedonian pine (pinus peuce). Not a problem for pinecones and wreaths, more of a ??? when it comes to using the resin and whether or not it is comparable to the one of the Aleppo pine, which is the one traditionally used for wine and which probably created the association to Dionysus.

Willow: The white willow (salix alba) is probably sacred to Persephone (Homer mentions the tree as being in the Underworld), but I have little relationship with her. My focus is more on the "goat willow" (salix caprea), which I associate with Pan.

So those are nice to have, but I'm left with 3 plants central to the religion that I don't have access to: the laurel, the olive and fig tree. The problem with them is not finding the fruits or even leaves. Most supermarkets will have olives, figs (dried at any time, fresh depending on season) and laurel leaves. The issue resides in finding branches and/or wood, not for offerings but either for ritual tools (eiresione, hiketeia) or for decoration (wreaths).

When I made my eiresione, I went for a silver birch replacement that was favorably confirmed via divination, but I decided to dig a bit deeper into the potential of the association, especially in regards to Apollo. The silver birch places itself has a culturally important tree in a way comparable to what both the olive and laurel tree mean to the Greeks. The sap is 99% water, harvestable and drinkable and has been historically used for soap making. Those elements, coupled with the fact that the silver birch is present in the northern regions of Greece make it a good candidate to be associated with Apollo and make the divination result make a lot of sense.

This is getting long so I'll conclude there for now: there's still a fair amount of work left to do and a ton to explore and learn. My next focus now will be about finding a proper replacement for a fennel stalk. Might update this post at some point if new, valuable information arise.

#local cultus #personal practice

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marshmallow-phd · 3 years

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Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

The smell had not changed in all the years that you used to call this place home. Pinecone potpourri mixed with traditional cooking spices and a hint of citrus from the constant dusting. Your aunt had always been a bit eccentric, a bit off beat. It had made being raised by her both adventurous and anxiety-inducing.

In the privacy of your home, her random dance parties and unfiltered way of speaking made you laugh. But when you were in public and she was pretending to be a mannequin in a window display, you ran away to the food court to hide behind a cup of boba. The explanation was always the same no matter what antics she was pulling: she wanted to break you out of your shell. It seemed like a lost cause. You were comfortable in your shell. It protected you and kept you warm.

“I don’t see how you expect to go trialing off to a place you’ve never been before,” your aunt had complained when you first told her about applying to the far away college.

“They’re two entirely different situations,” you had argued. “I can go to class and go back home without any issues.” These days there was your phone if you ever got lost or in need of food but didn’t want to leave the comfort of your apartment. Modern conveniences only enabled your shut-in ways.

“But what about, you know, friends?” She looked at you over her stylish, cat-eye glasses that she had no use for with her perfect vision.

“I have those,” you insisted. So, you might not have had a best friend, but you had people that you occasionally hung out with and collaborated on. Then there was Victoria and Amber from high school. You still spoke to them regularly, despite them going to different colleges out of the area. Your aunt didn’t realize that not everyone needed multiple circles of friends to bounce between.

Pushing her glasses back up her nose, your aunt pouted. “I just worry about you, that’s all. You still don’t like getting into cars, especially by yourself, and if you happen to be studying late….”

“I don’t mind taking the bus.” A bit of a stretch. You did mind but would still take it if the situation were dire enough. Walking was good exercise. And better for the environment. Someone had to look out for the little bunnies.

“Alright,” your aunt huffed as she sipped on her now lukewarm tea. “It is your life. I’m just a spectator of it.”

“At least you have premium seating,” you teased.

That had made your aunt laugh. She was back to her more carefree self.

“Is that my favorite niece?”

“No, it’s your least favorite nephew.”

Your aunt poked her head out of the hallway, the edge of her pink fuzzy robe telling you that she was getting ready to go out.

That was the exchange the two of you always had when you came to visit. The first time around, you had rolled your eyes and given the sarcastic answer for the cliché greeting. As your mother and aunt were the only siblings in their family and your father was the single offspring from his parents, there were no other nieces or nephews to put above or below you.

Without prompt, your aunt passed through the living room and onto the kitchen. When she came back, she had two wine glasses filled with bubble pink liquid. After handing you the lesser filled glass, she sat down on the couch while you opted for the loveseat, letting your purse drop to the hardwood floor by your feet. Your aunt leaned back on the arm rest with one elbow as she sipped on the wine. “It’s watermelon,” she informed you when you hadn’t taken a drink. “Try it.”

Shaking your head, you did as she asked. Oh, no. It was delicious. That was dangerous. You took another, larger swig before putting the glass down on the coffee table.

Growing up, you’d felt bad for your aunt. Sometimes you still did, though not as much after her many lectures as to why you shouldn’t.

She’d always been the carefree one. As a marketing consultant, she was constantly flying all over the globe, having adventures in between work meetings and bringing those experiences back to you in the form of expensive souvenirs. When your parents volunteered to go help a poorer nation with their health crisis, your aunt was quick to lend her babysitting services. It was only supposed to be temporary, after all. Then tragedy struck

Your parents never came back and suddenly your aunt was now your permanent guardian. The carefree spirit took it in stride. She shifted her strategy to more web-based conferences until you were in high school and able to be on your own for longer periods of time. She never turned into your mother; she never wanted to. For that, you were even more thankful. She was still the spontaneous, forever young aunt that you had always known. That stability in her personality was exactly what you needed. Too much had changed in your world on a dime, the less that was altered the better.

“What prompted this little visit?” she asked, a curious half smile on her lips.

You shrugged. “I hadn’t seen you in a while, so I thought I’d stop by and say hi. It looks like you’re getting ready to go out, though.”

Your aunt waved her hand limply. “Not for a few hours. Besides, anything can wait for you.”

Shifting in your seat, you smiled at the affection she had for you. “I finally heard from the university,” you told her.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You did? They finally decided to stop dangling the carrot and just give it to you, did they?”

“Not exactly,” you cringed. “They said they wanted to see how this semester went and then they would let me know.”

Your aunts face fell into a scowl as if something awful smelling had made its way into her nose. “What sense does that make?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But at least it’s not an outright no.”

Clicking her tongue, your aunt leaned forward so she was now balancing her elbows on her knees. “You know, there are still other options. Closer options.”

“I know,” you said with a monotone voice. “But Plan A is my focus. I’ll look to other options if that falls through.”

That knowing look you were all too familiar with formed on her face. A long, reminiscing sigh blew out from her lungs. “You are so much like your mother. It’s scary sometimes.”

You never knew how to respond when she said things like that. Should you be happy at the comparison? Sad because your mother wasn’t here to tell you herself? You were a child when your parents passed away. You remembered vague moments, birthday parties and movie nights. But when you’re that young, you don’t get a good idea of your parents’ personalities. You don’t learn what they like or don’t like, how they act in crowds versus a small group of people. You have to rely on the memories of those left behind.

You stayed at your aunt’s house for another hour or so, talking to her about her latest clients and nights out with the girls. You told her how your days were going and how you were adjusting to the new routine with the combined class. The news of Yixing sat on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mention him. Her reaction would have been too predictable. She’d ask when the two of you were going to go out and when you explained that it wasn’t like that, she would ask why not. For that, you didn’t have an answer.

While you wanted to say that the two of you were just friends, it didn’t feel like the truth.

You saw more of Yixing than of anyone else, including Ran. He would walk you to class multiple times a day and the two of you would talk. Not about anything too deep. You weren’t at that level yet. He was funny and charming, never speaking a word that wasn’t kind. You learned that he lived in farmhouse in the woods with eight other people, all men. He swore it was never too crowded and that he actually enjoyed the company. He got lonely easily.

He also told you about how he took a few years off of college to figure out what he wanted to do. You’d asked him how he came to the path of becoming a doctor. He said he simply wanted to do something that would help people. He thought about opening a low-income clinic once he had his degree. Suddenly your heart was pumping under your sternum. When he asked why you went pre-med, you gave a shrug and said your parents and left it at that. These conversations were usually nice and lighthearted, you didn’t want to be the downer.

Yes, spending time with Yixing was nice, the highlight of your day, sometimes. But he also felt like a secret. One that you should keep to yourself for now. Good things didn’t always last. You wanted to see if this was a long-term investment for him before you invited anyone else in.

The next day, you needed some fresh air, so you decided to take a walk in the nature center on the edge of town. Although the woods would be a no-go area since they still hadn’t caught the animal terrorizing the area, the center would be full of people and should be quite safe. It couldn’t really be considered part of the woods given the infrastructure and the observation building, could it? Deciding to go anyway, you packed your bag with a few notes, snacks, and a water bottle. As your hand landed on the doorknob to leave, your eyes fell on the jacket lying on the back of the couch.

You hadn’t worn the comforting fabric since that day. The weather had been nice and putting it on would have seemed a bit obnoxious in your eyes. But this morning the weatherman had mentioned a chilly breeze. It wouldn’t hurt.

Arms through their designated holes, you left the apartment and started the walk to the outskirts of town. It wasn’t too far of a walk, maybe thirty, forty minutes at the most. You thanked yourself for wearing the jacket. A “chilly breeze” was an understatement. A few families and couples were dotted among the trails of the nature center that wound near and over the small creek. You passed by them all until you came to a spot that was deserted. Resting your legs, you sat on a bench with your back to the trees. The sun was shining up above. The only noise seemed to come from the rustling leaves and trickling creek. It was peaceful, just what you needed.

With your bag beside you, you took out a piece of paper with yesterday’s notes and started to review them. Some of the words were smudged and the edges were already crinkling, but you could make most of it out. The paper flopped in the wind. You thought you had a good enough grip on it, but a gust of air proved you wrong.

The paper went flying over your head and straight for the trees. Panic made you jump up, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you ran after it. The wind – now relentless – was enough to keep the paper continuously out of your reach.

It finally came to a stop when it caught on a tree root sticking out in the ground. You snatched the paper up and stuffed it into the bag to keep it from running away again. Straightening up again, your eyes settled on the horizon.

Then you screamed.

Yixing’s eyes snapped open.

He was no longer a wolf. He was human again. Sitting up, he brushed off the leaves from his arms. What time was it? Was it even the same day? He’d blacked out again. At this point, it was almost routine. His only consolation prize being the fact that he was alone. He still needed to figure out what was happening to him. He wasn’t ready to take this to his brothers. There was enough to worry about at the moment.

Getting on his feet, Yixing headed in the direction of where his things were stored. In order to avoid the others wanting to run with him, he’d entered the forest from a different area, storing his things in a bush to get back to later. He flicked his jeans to get the dirt off before pulling them on and then stuffing his feet in his shoes.

A piercing cry for cut through the air.

The hair on the back of Yixing’s neck stood up.

“Help! Somebody help!”

It was your voice.

He gasped. Then he took off. If anything happened to you-

Yixing skidded to a stop when he saw you kneeling in the grass. A body was laying in front of you, the clothes ripped and stained dark. It was lying face down, but Yixing could tell that it was a man and that he’d been attacked.

“(Y/n), what happened?”

You stared at him with wide, confused eyes. “Yixing? What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question, more worried about your own wellbeing. “What happened?” he repeated.

You shook your head as you dropped your eyes to the man lying on the ground. “I don’t know. I just found him like this. He’s still breathing but I’m not strong enough to move him.”

Yixing analyzed the situation. His car was only on the other side of the trees. The man was still alive. From Yixing’s point of view, he could make it, but they needed to act fast. Slipping his arms under the man while careful not to move him too much, he picked the man up and motioned with his head for you to follow.

He said nothing and you asked no questions as the tree line broke. Yixing scanned the parking lot of the nature center until he found his car. He rushed to the vehicle with a few glances over his shoulder to make sure you were keeping up with him.

“(y/n)?”

“Yeah?” You were huffing. Had he been running? He’d tried to go at a pace that you could keep up with.

“In my front right pocket are my keys. Can you fish them out and unlock the doors?”

You nodded. Yixing could feel your fingers trembling as they slipped into the denim opening. The shaking was even more obvious once the keys were free, the house and car keys clinking together as you searched for the fob to unlock the doors. Without prompt, you opened the back door to allow Yixing to slip the man into the bench seat. He told you to get in the front. You tossed him the keys and the two of you rushed to the hospital.

A pair of doctors rushed out of the automatic doors as soon as the car pulled into the emergency entrance.

“We found him in the woods,” Yixing explained. The doctors quickly examined the man as two more nurses came out with a stretcher.

“I think that animal attacked him,” you added.

Yixing’s eyes flickered over to you with worry. The doctors nodded in acknowledgement then helped the nurses move the man to the stretcher. The two of you followed closely but were forced to stay behind in the waiting room. Yixing sat next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs that were connected to the wall.

“You never answered the question.”

Yixing frowned. “What question?”

You turned to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed, making him want to reach out and smooth the creases they created. “What you were doing out in the woods.”

Yixing stiffened. He pressed his foot into the tile floor to keep it from bouncing. “I was… hiking.”

“Without a shirt?”

He looked down. Crap. He hadn’t even realized that he wasn’t finished getting dressed before he took off. “I get warm easily.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Yixing fought to keep his face neutral. It was a pathetic excuse, he knew it. But you didn’t call him out on it. Instead, you leaned forward, unzipping the polyester bomber that was easily recognizable as his own, taking it off, and holding it out to him.

“I’m fine,” Yixing said, ignoring the jacket.

“You really should put it on. I heard the front desk call the cops. They’ll be here soon, and it’ll look suspicious. What would you tell them the reason was for you not having a shirt?”

A cheeky answer came to mind. Yixing bit down to hold it back, even if it would have caused your face to heat up in an adorable fashion. The instinct of making sure his mate was okay was almost too great to ignore. You were the one who needed to stay warm, stay protected. But you had a valid point. And you were inside, out of the wind. So, he accepted the jacket and ran the zipper almost up to his neck to hide the lack of shirt underneath.

The police arrived about twenty minutes later. They separated you, making him anxious. Over the next hour or so, Yixing gave his side of the story to the officer. They took him at his word that he was strolling through the woods. The doctors had already informed the officers that the wounds were clearly animal made. While severe, they weren’t life threatening. That gave Yixing a small amount of relief.

“Would you two like to see him?” one of the nurses asked another hour later. You nodded eagerly. Yixing stayed a bit behind as the nurse led you through the halls to a large room that held several beds separated by plastic curtains.

The man was awake. Black stitches covered his arms. Three claw marks ran down the left cheek. From what Yixing knew of the other victims, this guy was lucky. He was talking to a nurse when he looked to see who his visitors were. As soon as his eyes landed on Yixing, the heart monitor spiked and his breathing quickened.

“Hey, it’s okay, these are the people who found you,” the nurse said to try and calm him down.

“Oh.” The man’s heart rate started to slow again. Each breath was deeper until they were back to normal. “I’m sorry.”

“How are you feeling?” you asked, taking a step forward. Yixing fought the urge to put himself between you and the man you’d rescued. He was probably harmless, but he had also been through a traumatic situation.

The man nodded. “I’m… alive, at least. Thank you.”

You gave a small smile. “I’m glad I came along when I did. Did you,” you bit your bottom lip nervously, “happen to see what attacked you?”

Yixing held his breath.

“It was a large gray wolf,” the man answered. “Huge. Like a mutated one you would see in the movies. He came from nowhere, knocked me down. I thought I was going to end up like the others as he clawed at me. Then he was gone.”

Yixing’s fist tightened at his side, his throat constricting. He forced down a swallow. He couldn’t panic. Not here.

You frowned. “I wonder what scared him off.”

“Maybe you did?” Yixing said with a slight tease. It was more to keep his own mental state calm than for the benefit of everyone else.

“I’m not that frightening.”

“Whatever it was,” the man shook his head, “I’m thankful.”

“He should really rest now,” the nurse said sternly. Yixing nodded in agreement and, after the goodbyes were given, led you away.

Once outside of the hospital, Yixing stopped you. “I can take you home.”

“That’s okay,” you countered, “I can walk.”

He didn’t like that one bit. Besides, he really needed you by his side right now. “Where do you live?”

“In an apartment near campus.”

No way. “That’s nearly halfway across the city. I can take you. It’s not a big deal.”

You shifted form foot to foot, refusing to meet his eye. “I don’t… really like cars.”

“You made it here alright.”

“That’s because I was too worried about him to think about it. The adrenaline blocked everything out.”

“I’m a safe driver, I promise.”

“I believe you. I just-” You blew air out between your lips, which ended in a growl. It was actually kind of cute. Yixing pushed back a grin. It wasn’t appropriate right now. “My parents were killed in a car crash, so they kind of freak me out.” You sucked in your lips as if you hadn’t meant to reveal that vital information.

Oh. That explained… a lot actually. At least, in terms of what you had been holding back from him. He never wanted to push, but he felt better knowing more about you.

“I understand,” he said sympathetically. “Can I walk you home then? I can come back for my car later.”

You shook your head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe so. But I need to make sure that you get home safe.”

You weighed his alternative for a minute or so. Yixing kept his patience. He refused to push you farther than you were willing to go. He just needed to see you walk safely into your building and then he would be okay until he saw you again.

“Okay,” you sighed. “You can drive me home.” He could have leapt with joy.

Yixing waited for you to get in the car before sliding behind the wheel himself. The death grip you had on the side handle didn’t escape his notice. He made sure to slow down easily and to take each turn with care. The only words you spoke were to give him directions. It wasn’t until the car was in park outside of your building did you finally relax.

“Thank you,” you told him in a strained voice.

“Any time.”

“I’m sorry if I was a little dramatic. I—” the growl of your empty stomach interrupted your speech. You groaned from embarrassment. Yixing couldn’t help his laugh.

Knock, knock, knock.

Leaning over and looking through the passenger window of his car was a strange girl Yixing had never seen before. He rolled down the window barely enough to be able hear what she was saying.

“How the hell did you get (y/n) into a car?” the girl gasped. You visibly cringed in the seat, sinking down a few inches.

Yixing blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Um, I—”

“Yixing, this is my roommate, Ran,” you interrupted, saving him. “Ran, this is Yixing. We have class together.”

“Oh!” The inclination behind her exclamation was more than obvious. And Yixing didn’t object to it. “I just ordered pizza and I know (y/n) usually gets hungry around this time. Do you want to join us?”

You flashed your roommate a panicked look, but Yixing couldn’t resist the opportunity. “That sounds great.” He caught you flinching, so he added, “As long as (y/n)’s okay with it.”

“Yeah,” you relented. “It’s the least I could do. For the ride.” You flashed an annoyed glare at Ran before getting out of the vehicle.

Yixing shouldn’t be this elated as he nearly sprung from the driver’s seat. He walked around the car slowly and let you and Ran lead the way, in case you changed your mind. You didn’t, thankfully, and Yixing walked up to your door with anticipation so great that he almost was able to forget what the man had said back at the hospital.

Almost.

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #yixing x reader #zhang yixing #lay #lay x reader #exo x fem!reader #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo college au #exo college!au #The Untamed Universe #Healing Touch

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platypanthewriter · 3 years

Text

Hook Possum 4/4

Art by @monsdasarah for Harringrove Big Bang!

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

The last night, Robin told one of the weirder bits of Hook Possum lore, staring dead at Steve the whole time.

“Once, long, long time ago,” she began, in a sibilant stage whisper, her flashlight under her chin. “Back when all these trees were still pinecones, a stranger came to the little town you passed driving in, on the highway.” The littlest kids shivered and nodded, scooting closer to the fire. “There wasn’t much going on there then,” Robin went on, grinning evilly, “—and a stranger was exciting. He went to all the dances, and he was handsome, and what do you think happened?” she offered the flashlight to an older girl, who was biting her lips together in glee.

“One of the girls fell in love with him,” she suggested, and Robin smiled.

“Have you never wondered who Hook Possum searches for, with a lantern, in the dead of night,” Robin said, and Steve rubbed his face, feeling it heat.

“...what,” Hook Possum asked, edging closer, and Steve sighed, shaking his head. It’d become habit now to slide his fingers in Hook Possum’s costume at the wrist, between his wrist, the cuff, and the friendship bracelet, and Steve leaned closer. Hook Possum’s hand twitched, but then he relaxed, ducking his head. Steve hoped he was smiling.

“Hook Possum searches for a murderer,” Robin said. “The dancing stranger. Because the night they were to be married, he left Hook Possum buried in a shallow grave.”

“Wait, Hook Possum’s a girl?!” yelled a kid, huge-eyed, and Hook Possum looked around. Steve thought Hook Possum being a possum was more to the point, but nobody else seemed to see a problem.

“It’s just a costume,” said another one. “Hook Possum might be a girl really.”

“That’s right, mom possums carry their young around,” said another one, and a couple kids grabbed Hook Possum’s legs and arm, listening intently.

“Hook Possum came to meet her love, under the yellow poplar in the center of camp,” Robin whispered. “And he buried her there.”

Everybody gasped, and Hook Possum’s mask twitched as he glanced at Steve.

“She’d made a lovely flower crown, and she never got to wear it at her wedding,” Robin said, and Steve’s cheeks heated further. He decided to shift the planks holding her mattress up that night, so she’d fall through in the dead of night. “And that,” Robin intoned, holding the flashlight under her chin, and letting her voice waver creepily, “—is the real reason Hook Possum wanders this earth, alone, with her lantern. She wants to wear her flower crown. She’s looking for her love.”

The kids were all staring at Hook Possum, but as a creepy mass, their eyes followed his arm down to where Steve had his fingers tucked in the cuff and friendship bracelet, and then up again to Steve’s face. “Oh noooo,” he breathed.

“I can make flower crowns,” said Blair Witch Mirror Kid.

“We can have a wedding,” said Sun Safety Girl.

“Tomorrow,” Robin said, her mouth quirked evilly. “We’ll need to get ready.”

“I was at a wedding,” Pink Overalls said. “You throw flowers at people.”

“Before the buses show up,” Robin announced. “We’ll hold a wedding for Hook Possum.”

Steve had wondered before then whether the kids had noticed...whatever it was, between him and Hook Possum. Hook Possum sat next to him at the fire, his mask on Steve’s shoulder, Steve’s fingers tucked against his wrist, feeling his heartbeat. Sometimes the kids looked at them for a while, but they never said anything shitty, and Steve wondered if he’d been obvious the whole time, and Robin, Dustin, Max, and El had been running interference.

“We’ll need vows,” said Bell Witch Mirror Game Kid, who needed a shorter nickname, but Steve shrugged, because it was the second-to-last day of camp.

Hook Possum’s mask kept jerking towards Steve, then away, but he didn’t pull his arm away from Steve’s.

The next morning, Hook Possum got drug away from the cabin first thing, while Steve still had his arms wrapped around the post of the bed, snoring with his head under the pillow. When they let Steve come and look, the kids had drug all the chairs so there was an aisle under the trees, and set up an overturned trash can as the altar.

“Because he’s a possum,” said Dustin, grinning.

“Ha, ha,” Steve said dryly. His cheeks hurt from smiling, but he tried to keep a straight face as little kids showed him the flowers they’d picked, and told him they’d used all his possum facts in the vows. “...wow,” Steve said, thinking about ticks and carrion.

“We’re gonna play kazoos,” said Dustin, and Steve turned to see El earnestly putting a kazoo between her lips, accompanied by Max, Lucas, and Nancy’s kid brother, Mitchell. “...oh,” Steve said, wondering whether he was gonna be able to keep from doubling up with laughter when they were mid-possum vow and the kazoos started.

The kazoos started as they walked Hook Possum out, flower crown and all. “I made you a flower crown too,” Bell Witch Mirror Game Boy told Steve, and Steve dropped to a crouch let him put it on his head. He bit his lips as he turned to watch Hook Possum, bedecked in a flower crown and carrying a bouquet.

“There aren’t rings,” Robin whispered. “I got Sesame Street band-aids. Bert and Ernie.” It occurred to Steve suddenly, his cheeks heating at the actual care she’d put into it, that it might be on him, some day, to organize a more serious kind of wedding for her and her...someone. He bit his lip, trying not to think about how silly it all was, with Hook Possum moving away.

At least nearly everyone he knew had been at camp, he thought, watching Hook Possum bump blindly into the chairs, and listening to a bunch of off-tempo children earnestly try to produce ‘Here Comes The Bride’ on kazoo. They sounded like a lot of wet bees, mostly. At least Dustin would know what Steve was talking about, when he mentioned Hook Possum six times a sentence, or turned to grin at him, and then realized he wasn’t there.

Hook Possum drew closer—Pink Overalls had just grabbed his hand, finally, and hauled him along, and Steve wondered why he was having so much trouble seeing. It was drizzly, and gray, but it wasn’t dark. Pink Overalls threw flowers at Steve’s face, then at Hook Possum’s, and stepped back.

Steve wondered, as ever, what she thought was happening.

“Friends and campers gathered here today,” Dustin began, but Steve didn’t really listen to the vows. He’d slid his finger through Hook Possum’s handcuff, and the friendship bracelet, and his hand was shaking a little.

“Are you seriously okay with this,” he breathed, leaning close to Steve’s head. “This—this is—”

“Ssssshhhh,” Dustin groaned. “Where are the rings?”

“We’ll just wrap it around Hook Possum’s paw and he can put it on later,” Robin decided, and Steve wrapped it around Hook Possum’s furry-gloved finger. It felt really... weddingy, when Hook Possum (with Robin’s help) unwrapped the Bert-and-Ernie bandaid and wrapped it around Steve’s finger. Steve took his paw and squeezed it, wondering what he’d agreed to.

“To love and to cherish, so long as you both shall live?” Robin asked, her eyes steady, and Steve kind of wanted to run, dreading Hook Possum laughing.

“...I do,” he whispered.

“I do too,” Steve said quickly, grabbing Hook Possum’s other paw, and squeezing that one too.

“You may kiss the bride,” announced Dustin, and Steve leaned in and smacked a kiss on the mask, listening to the startled laughter of the man inside.

After that, in the first raindrops, Robin sent the kids to get their packed bags. “The buses will be here in twenty minutes!” she yelled, stomping off, and Steve pulled back from hugging Hook Possum as hard as he could.

“I have to take the costume off,” Hook Possum whispered. “It’s starting to rain.”

It hadn’t rained for the whole three weeks of camp, not during the day, and it felt like a sign camp was truly over. Steve nodded, squeezing the dirty old costume paws in his hands, and wondering about the human inside them.

“He said you could kiss the bride,” Hook Possum said in kind of a weird choked voice, standing perfectly still, and Steve froze.

“You...saying I can see you?” he whispered back, as the rain started to penetrate his hair, cold against his head.

“...I’m saying I’m taking it off,” Hook Possum hissed, dragging Steve back towards the cabin. “Don’t look. But, uh. If—if you—he said you could kiss the bride, so—”

“I want to,” Steve told him, panting as they ran. “I want to, I do.”

“Okay,” Hook Possum laughed, kind of unevenly. “Yeah.”

Steve helped him get out of the damn costume for the last time, untying the little cords slowly, and sliding the warm, wet, musty fabric down Hook Possum’s muscular shoulders. As a show of good faith, he opened Robin’s luggage and took out one of her kneesocks, and wrapped it around his eyes. That done, he ran his hands down Hook Possum’s arms to find his bracelet and cuff, and a warm, strong hand to run his fingers over. He did the same on the other side, finding that Hook Possum hadn’t put the band-aid on.

“Lemme do it right,” Steve asked, and Hook Possum stilled. Steve fiddled blindly with the little tabs, but he got it on there, and slid their fingers together. “...they fit nice,” he said softly, and Hook Possum sighed. “Lemme take your mask off,” Steve tried next, and Hook Possum let him, let him slide his hands up over the pulse pounding in Hook Possum’s neck, and lift the mask away, before running his thumb over a stubbly jaw, and sliding his fingers into soft, sweaty curls.

Hook Possum stepped away. “Just let me get my feet out,” he whispered.

Steve stood there with a sock around his head for a long second, feeling stupid, when warm, chapped lips met his. Hook Possum’s breath was shaky.

“...gonna miss you,” Steve told him, as soon as he could draw breath, licking his lips, and Hook Possum made a little grunty whining noise in the back of his throat, and kissed him again. “We’re married now,” Steve told him. “You aren’t gonna run out on me, are you?”

“...this was never real,” Hook Possum said, his voice cracking, and Steve nodded once, his eyes stinging, and walked out. He yanked the sock off his head and blinked up at the rain, then yelped as Hook Possum dragged him back against the side of the cabin, the rain slicking up their hands and faces as they kissed again. “I wish it was real,” Hook Possum whispered.

“Give me your phone number, at least,” Steve whispered, kissing the warm, soft mouth against his. “Your name?!”

“...sorry,” Hook Possum muttered, pulling away. “Don’t look.”

Steve didn’t. He stood there in the rain for five entire minutes. His shoulders shook because of the warm Indiana summer rain, and for no other reason.

“He’ll meet you at the diner,” Max’s voice said, as Steve was paying for a stack of frozen TV dinners at Bradley’s Big Buy, and skateboarded off, without telling Steve when, so he yelled incoherently after her and drove to the diner. He ordered coffee as his TV dinners slowly defrosted in his car, and watched the door, then, finally, when the waitress wouldn’t go away, he ordered pie. It was really good, he thought distractedly, chomping bites of lemon meringue as he stared through the door at the parking lot.

Three hours—and a lot of pie—later, Billy Hargrove pulled up in front, and Steve made a face, wondering if he dared risk running to the bathroom. Billy lingered outside, cleaning his windshield wipers, and checking under the hood, blocking Steve’s view of everyone else who might drive up, and in his annoyance, Steve failed to notice he’d received and finished another refill on his coffee, and the bathroom question was becoming desperate.

He pressed his knees together, glancing at the clock, and gritting his teeth.

Billy glanced in, saw Steve, and stopped, watching him like he still kinda wanted to beat his teeth in, or something. Steve knocked back half a mug of coffee in sheer annoyance, and then glowered down at it, mentally apologizing to his bladder.

The door creaked open, and Steve jerked to attention, nearly knocking his latest empty pie plate off the counter with his elbow, but it was just Billy, slouching, an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. He was tugging at his cuff, one hand stuffed in his pocket.

“Harrington,” he said, and Steve nodded, trying to see past him through the door. Billy huffed a laugh. “...you got a hot date?” he asked, and Steve nearly said yes, but then thought what it would look like, when a man showed up.

“None of your beeswax,” he said tiredly, wishing Max had said when. “Hey,” he called to the waitress. “How early d’you open in the morning?”

“We’re open five o’clock in the morning to eleven o’clock at night,” she said, and Steve winced, hoping Hook Possum showed up before, like, tomorrow afternoon. He had visions of himself keeping vigil for days, glutting himself on pie, and sleeping in the parking lot.

Billy turned and stalked back out, shaking his head, and Steve decided to risk the bathroom. He sprinted back out to see the parking spot in front empty, and sat back down, opening the pie menu.

“Your friend left,” said the waitress.

“What?!” Steve said, jerking his head around to the door. “Just now?!”

“The boy with the shirt and jacket made of blue jeans,” she said, cocking her head like Billy’s fashion sense was annoying, which to be fair, it was.

“Oh,” Steve said, deflating.

“He came back and asked how long you’d waited. If you’d said anything about who you were waiting for,” she said, eyeing him narrowly, and Steve blinked back at her.

Max’s voice suddenly sounded in his head again. Uh, he lives on my street. She’d sounded hesitant, which was very unlike Max.

He’s the big brother I never had, she’d said, and Steve had assumed that couldn’t be Billy.

You’re the son of the boss’s boss?! He heard again, in Hook Possum’s raspy, high-pitched tones. You could get me fired.

“...Billy,” Steve said aloud.

“Is this some kind of Shop Around The Corner thing? I love that movie.” the waitress asked, as Steve scrambled for his wallet, thinking about Billy’s curls, and how he’d been afraid of Steve seeing him with the mask off, even once they were friends. “Was he supposed to carry a certain book or something? Were you penpals?” she asked idly, leaning on the counter. “You should probably go talk to him, if you can walk, after all that pie.”

“He’s moving to California,” Steve said, shoving a wad of cash at her without bothering to count it, and running out to his car.

“Good luck!” she called after him. “Idiot,” he thought he heard, and his cheeks burned.

When he pulled up to the Hargrove house, it wasn’t lit up. He ran around to Max’s window—he knew where that was, from driving Dustin and Lucas around—and tossed a pinecone at it. After a few thudded into the glass, the blinds shot up, and she glowered out, then glared down at him, yanking the window up. “The hell are you doing here?!” she hissed.

“Billy’s Hook Possum,” Steve stage-whispered back at her, cupping his face. “Isn’t he?”

She frowned harder, glancing over her shoulder. “What are you doing here?!”

“Come let me in,” Steve told her, and she shook her head.

“He’s not home! Did you miss him?! God, you’re such morons—”

“Where’s his room?” Steve hissed back, and she pointed, leaning out.

“He left like an hour ago,” she shot back, waving at the road. “We’d hear his car.”

“Let me in, I’ll wait for him,” Steve whispered up, and she groaned, leaning her head against the wood of the window.

“Fine,” she said, slamming it shut. A few minutes later, the window next to it opened, and Max’s head poked out. “Get up here,” she said. “And be quiet, you’ll get him in trouble, his dad’s watching the ballgame.”

“Okay,” Steve said, gauging the jump to the windowsill.

He wasn’t graceful, but he made it in, kicking off the siding and getting an arm inside. He clambered in with Max’s help, and looked around in the refracted light from the streetlamps. Everything was in boxes. “...when’s he leaving,” Steve asked, his throat tight.

“He was gonna leave today, but I got him to meet you at the diner,” Max growled. “What happened?!”

“He didn’t say anything, he just left,” Steve groaned, his eye catching on something over on the mirrored dresser thingy. He squinted in the dim light, leaning in—and he was right, it was the flower crown Hook Possum had worn for their ‘marriage’. The flowers were wilted, their petals crumbly in his hands, and Steve leaned to smell them, remembering.

He shivered, trying not to laugh, because he was right, Billy Hargrove was Hook Possum, and now everything was even more complicated. Billy Hargrove hates me, Steve thought, bewildered. He HATES me, he nearly beat my face in.

“That’s his car,” Max said, staring at nothing, and then Steve could hear it, through the open window.

“I just need to talk to him,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, you fucking do,” she muttered, slamming the door on her way out.

Alone in Billy’s room, Steve wandered around, squinting at the couple of posters still on the wall. He found the light switch, and leaned against the wall near it as footsteps came down the hall, and the doorknob turned.

Steve waited until Billy shut the door and wandered over to the window before flipping on the light, and Billy yelled.

“Holy cross eyed jesus, Harrington,” he panted, staring. “What—why—”

“You’re Hook Possum,” Steve said. “Right?”

“What,” Billy said, backing away. He had his arms up like he wanted to fight, but as Steve stepped closer he just flinched back, his head and shoulders thudding against the wall. Steve could see a glint against his denim cuff, and grabbed his wrist, sliding a finger down inside.

“My friendship bracelet,” he said, feeling too relieved for a true smirk. “...and you still haven’t gotten this handcuff off?!” he asked, sliding the clinking metal up Billy’s wrist.

“Looks kinda rad, don’t you think,” Billy whispered, swallowing. “Why’re you here, Harrington?”

“You’re Hook Possum,” Steve said again, running his fingers along the soft skin on the underside of Billy’s wrist, under the cuff and the friendship bracelet.

Billy watched his face, licking his lips, and Steve remembered how it’d felt kissing him. He’d kissed Billy Hargrove, he thought, his brain stumbling to a halt as it reorganized Steve’s memories to fit the new facts.

“What happens now,” Billy asked, and Steve let him go, stepping back as he remembered nothing had actually changed.

“...you’re moving to California,” Steve said, looking around at the boxes. “I—I guess I can send postcards now. Now I know the big secret.” It was almost worse, knowing more about Hook Possum, and having to watch him leave.

“...you’re not pissed,” Billy asked, raising his eyebrows, and Steve considered, and then shook his head.

It was hard to imagine being angry at Hook Possum, even if Hook Possum was Billy Hargrove. “Nah,” Steve said, stalking over to sit on the bed. “Thanks, uh, thanks for meeting me. I guess. I know you didn’t want to see me again.” He’d thought Hook Possum liked him, which was stupid, he realized. “I should go, huh.”

“I didn’t know you’d be there, at the camp,” Billy said, laughing. He sounded tense. “I thought I was getting away from Hawkins.”

Max knew, Steve thought, remembering planning with Dustin and everyone. “Yeah. I figured.”

“You wishing you didn’t know, now?” Billy asked, with another laugh, sitting in the window, and gripping the sill with white knuckles.

“...no,” Steve said, honestly. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been this...wary distance.

“You want your friendship bracelet back?” Billy sneered, and Steve just shook his head, and got up to leave out the door, if Billy was gonna block the window. The eight slices of pie were roiling in his stomach with probably two whole pots of coffee, and he felt like he might throw up. “Harrington, fuck, wait,” Billy growled, pushing himself up to stalk over and hold the door shut. “Why’d you come over here,” he hissed, his low register all Billy Hargrove, who’d beaten Steve unconscious.

“I don’t know,” Steve said, laughing, a little, because Hook Possum had been right. Summer camp wasn’t the real world, and he wasn’t married to a magic possum. He yanked on the doorknob, but Billy leaned his weight against the door, watching his face.

“Do you still want me,” Billy asked, grabbing Steve’s arm.

Steve wanted to get out of the conversation, and he almost dodged the question with a what do you mean, or a I have to go, but Billy’s hand was warm on his skin, and nervously sweaty.

Steve nodded.

Billy made a noise in his throat, kind of a strangled choke, and grabbed him, yanking him into a clumsy kiss, all teeth, because he was laughing. “You’ll make me another friendship bracelet, right,” he said breathlessly, like it was important, and Steve nodded, losing track of what was going on. He ran his finger along Billy’s wrist, and hooked it around the friendship bracelet/cuff accessory, and Billy kissed him again, leaning in. “If—if I’m here, you’ll make me another one.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, dizzy with kisses.

“Make us rings,” Billy whispered, smiling so wide his kisses were a little wet against Steve’s cheek, and ear. Steve’s bones creaked from how hard Billy was squeezing him.

“...can’t believe you haven’t taken the handcuff off,” Steve whispered, against Billy’s jaw. “...god, I hope nobody ever asks how we met. Stay out of the trash.”

Billy snorted a laugh, leaning his face into Steve’s neck with a sigh, and then pressing soft kisses up it, so Steve started having wild thoughts about Billy’s mattress, five feet away. “Y’know,” Billy said softly, “I kinda hope they do ask, actually. You ashamed of your magical...haunted possum...girlfriend?”

“God I missed you,” Steve said, snorting a laugh. His vision blurred with tears.

#harringrove big bang #Harringrove #Ridiculous possum mascot story #Art by Monsdasarah!!#Amazing

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cas-kingdom · 3 years

Text

Bells

A/N: As discussed with @eleniel221b, I’ve switched the reader to my OC, Annabelle, who you can read more about on my ff.net account. This is set around season 1-2, obviously during Christmas. (I don’t think Christmas trees were a thing in the 1600s, but let’s pretend for the sake of this fic that they were! XD)

Title: Bells

Summary: The musketeers, with help from their little sister, decorate the Garrison in time for Christmas.

Words: 887

“Mon dieu…” Aramis’s hand went to his chin as soon as he walked into the Garrison’s courtyard, amazed eyes slowly scanning the place and trying to make sense of the many new attributions. There were glittered pinecones hanging from Treville’s balcony, twine adorning the fences, tiny bells attached to walls and ringing in the light breeze, and… he blinked, eyes growing wide, at the huge tree standing tall by the stable, completely dripping with bright decorations. He didn’t quite wish to know how that had gotten there.

“Aramis!” Aramis turned at the excited voice of his younger sister, raising a brow as she gestured to the tree. “Do you like it?”

He nodded slowly, trying to make his face a little less… surprised. “I… yes! Yes. I like it.” He reached his arms out towards it, trying to find more words, but fell swiftly short. “What is it?” he eventually asked, propping a hand on his hip.

Annabelle rolled her eyes. “It’s a Christmas tree.”

The musketeer pursed his lips in thought. “It’s a very… questionable tree.”

It was at this moment that d’Artagnan, a handful of mistletoe in his arms, walked past, muttering a quiet, “just go with it, Aramis,” as he did so.

“Would you stop ringing those damn bells?” All heads in the courtyard – which Aramis had really only just realised were attached to bodies completely and utterly fixed on decorating the Garrison (as if it wasn’t decorated enough) – turned upwards at the sleep-deprived voice of Athos, who was standing outside his door, hair a mess and eyes narrowed in exhaustion.

Annabelle was undeterred, well used to Athos’s tired hollers, and everyone else seemed to be the same as they all turned back to their previous activities. She grinned widely. “Good morning to you too, Athos!”

He readied to respond, but leaned forward at the last minute, apparently clearing his vision enough to see what had been occurring all morning. “What have you done to the Garrison?” he asked, exhaustion laced in his tone, and Annabelle bounced on her toes.

“Decorated it!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s Christmas!”

Athos’s eyes slowly widened, and he stared at the girl, tilting his head slightly. “Is it?” The question came out a little panicked, and Aramis, moving to sit on the table, chuckled, shaking his head.

“Not today,” she called up, and Porthos bellowed out a laugh as he walked past, clapping the girl’s shoulder.

“Ah, come on, Athos!” he said. “You have to admit it all puts you in better spirits!”

Athos continued to stare for a while, standing stone still, before nonchalantly waving a hand and turning around. “I’m going back to bed.”

The sound of the door slamming caused an eruption of giggles as Annabelle moved to work again on her tree. Aramis watched, a fond smile on his face, and poured a warm drink from the jug Serge had left out. He reached for his hat, which he strangely noticed had been left on the table he was sat on, and placed it on his head, the sound of bells ringing in his ears yet again. It was nice to see his sister so invested in something. There she was, telling d’Artagnan where to hang the mistletoe – “over there, so Treville has to kiss anyone he calls to meet him!” – and running from Porthos when she threw a pinecone at his head, that childishness returning to him as it did everyone during Christmas.

He turned his head, frowning lightly at the bells in his ears again, and called Annabelle’s name, suggesting she put some in d’Artagnan and Constance’s room, too. Then the giggles had started again, and he’d grinned crazily and shaken his head, and the ringing had sounded in his ears, and he’d growled something incoherent, taken off the hat, and seen tiny bells attached to it.

“Annabelle,” he called, somewhat hesitant, and when Annabelle spun around, he lifted the hat and rose an eyebrow. The corners of her lips pulled coyly upwards and he rolled his eyes to the heavens before leaping off the table and rushing at her, lifting her, squealing, into his arms and digging his fingers into her sides.

“Aramis!” she laughed, batting at his hands. “Stohop it, bell-head!”

Her brother snorted, stopping his tickling in favour of bending over himself in laughter. “Did you attach bells to my hat for the pure intention of calling me that name?”

Annabelle, still residually laughing, tilted her head to stare up at him. “It was Porthos’s idea.”

And Porthos, who’d been half-lifting a cadet so he could somehow put a paper star at the top of the deformed tree, frowned darkly and pointed a finger at her, almost dropping the cadet in the process. “Say that again and I’ll come over and finish what he started!” he threatened, and Annabelle readied to retort back before a shout echoed throughout the courtyard.

“Why are there bells attached to my hat?”

Aramis lifted a brow, turning his expectant gaze down to his wide-eyed sister. “You didn’t do the same to Athos,” he said, posing it as a hopeful statement with the hint of an almost-anxious question.

The only response was a faint smirk, and Aramis rolled his eyes, pushing her away from him as the sound of heavy footsteps sounded from above. “I’d run.”

Musketeers Masterpost

December Writing Challenge Masterpost

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you-can-call-me-wanda · 3 years

Text

Snow Day

Pairing: Eric Carr x Reader

Author’s Note: I just moved back to university so things are going a bit slow at the moment. My apologies.

“Babe!” Eric called excitedly. He raced into the room and jumped onto the bed with a laugh, waking you up in doing so. “You’ll never guess what happened!”

“Ugh,” you groaned tiredly. “What is it?”

Your attempt at pulling up the sheets and going back to bed were stopped by Eric instantly. Whatever it was that had happened he sure was excited about it. He was practically trembling with enthusiasm.

“It snowed!” he cheered, shaking your shoulder to rouse you again. “You’ve gotta come see this (Y/N),” he said, getting off the bed and going to look out the bedroom window.

“I know what snow looks like,” you said, sitting up to look at him fully. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your grinning boyfriend. His face was filled with child-like wonder as he looked outside. “Besides, we knew it was going to snow. They said so on the news last night.”

“I know,” he said, spirits not dampened in the slightest by your matter-of-factness. “But it snowed a lot more than what they were calling for. Come look!”

At his beckon, you climbed out of bed and joined Eric by the window. You blinked your eyes hurriedly as the bright white light reflected by the snow hit your sleepy eyes. All of the city seemed to have turned into a winter wonderland overnight. Everything was coated in a thick layer of fluffy snow and twinkling brightly in the morning sun.

“Wow,” you said after gazing out the window for a few moments. “It’s beautiful.”

“It snowed like a whole foot,” Eric said. “We have to go out and play in it.”

You laughed at his suggestion good-naturedly. “Aren’t we a little old for playing in the snow?” you asked, already knowing that you would soon be giving in and heading out into the cold with your boyfriend.

“You’re never too old for some good old-fashioned fun,” Eric said. “Come on. Let’s get dressed and go out!”

So, the both of you began to get ready. You worked through your home, trying to find every warm article of clothing you had for such an occasion. You dug through the closet until you found your old snow boots while Eric searched for two pairs of warm gloves for you both. Eventually the two of you were ready, donned in gloves, hats, scarves, coats, boots, and extra pairs of socks and pants. Finally, you were ready to go out in the snow.

The first thing you did when you ventured outside was scoop up a large handful of the powdery flakes. The snow was absolutely beautiful, and you took great joy in marveling at it. Eric, seeing that you were momentarily distracted, took the opportunity to craft a snowball and throw it your way. The snowball hit you directly on the shoulder, smashing upon impact and spraying your arm, neck, and face with cold wet snow.

“Eric!” you shouted, tone a mix of surprise and scolding. Your boyfriend just laughed to which you narrowed your eyes at. “It’s so on.”

Soon, both you and Eric were rapidly forming snowballs at pelting each other with them as fast as you could. You were both covered in snow but were having too much fun to really care. Eric was winning the snowball fight by far, so you did what anyone would do in the same situation. You ran at him full speed and tackled him to the ground.

Both of you fell into the snow laughing. He landed on his back and you landed directly on top of him, your face mere centimeters from his. Eric smiled up at you and planted a quick kiss to your lips before rolling over and dumping you off him into the snow. He stood up, brushed himself off, and offered you a hand to help you up.

“Let’s make a snowman,” he suggested, pulling you up out of the snow.

“Okay,” you agreed, excited. You hadn’t made a snowman since you were a child.

You both took great care in fashioning the balls of snow and stacking them one by one. You scoured the area for some rocks to use as eyes and buttons while Eric went looking for some sticks to use as arms. The two of you were successful in your hunt and added the items to your snowman with glee. Next, you stuck a pinecone in the center of its face to act as a nose. Eric added a small twig to it for a mouth and the snowman was complete. You both stood back to admire your work.

“He looks good,” you said, happy with how it turned out.

Eric nodded in agreement. “He does, but how about we go inside now? I’m freezing.”

You were pretty cold too. All the snowball fighting and rolling around in the snow had left you both with flushed cheeks and cold fingertips.

“Yeah,” you said. “Let’s head on in.”

Once inside, the two of you wasted no time in stripping from your snow-soaked clothing and changing into warm dry clothes. You and Eric hastily pulled on sweatpants and thick sweatshirts before heading to the living room to cuddle up on the couch together under a blanket.

Eric hummed as he snuggled into your side. “Hmm,” he said. “This is nice. This is my favorite part about snow days.”

His words warmed you more than the new clothes and blanket.

“It’s my favorite part too,” you murmured, reaching up to run a finger through his hair gently. “You know what would make this even better?” you asked.

Eric lifted his head up to look at you curiously. “What?” he asked.

“Hot chocolate!”

He grinned at your idea. “Babe,” he said. “You’re a genius.”

However, as you started to get up in order to make your way to the kitchen to fetch the drinks, Eric’s arms wrapped around your torso tightly and pulled you back down onto the couch.

“I thought you wanted hot chocolate,” you asked curiously.

“I do,” he said, voice muffled by the fact that he was now pressing his cold nose into your neck. He hugged you tight. “I just want to hold you for a bit more before you go get it,” he explained. “Is that okay?”

You smiled down at your boyfriend and his koala-like hold on you.

“Of course it’s okay,” you said. “It’s more than okay.”

#eric carr x reader #eric carr imagine #eric carr #kiss x reader #kiss imagine #wanda writes

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youarejesting · 3 years

Text

Lost Boys

[Full Masterlist]

Rating: All Pairing: BTSxReader Genre: Supernatural, thriller, psychological, angst, cute nature boys, symbolism, trigger warnings: abandonment, mature, fantasy, supernatural, and character death. Words: 2.2k

Summary: Bangtan Forest was said to be evil, stealing children and anyone who got lost. Some say it was attacking the humans. You don’t think much of scary campfire stories, that is until the rocks and trees come alive.

Aisles of high tech camping gear had you in awe. You even thought about a new sleeping bag but, it just seemed like a waste. There was nothing wrong with the sleeping bag you already had and to buy a new one to use once a year was not worth the money.

Grabbing the mosquito repellent you headed to the counter. Your friends were carrying emergency lights and flares standing in line behind you ready to make their purchases. “Good morning, just these?” The young girl smiled, she was deep in her role of customer service, which you totally respected.

“Uh... yeah and um, one of these please” You placed the emergency whistle onto the counter, it was plastic and only cost fifty cents.

“Of course, is that on the card today?” She continued talking and you smiled nodding holding up the card, stepping to the other side to pay. Taking your things, there wasn’t much left for you in the shop. That is until you heard something interesting.

“There was another landslide by Bangtan Forest, it can’t seem to let anyone get close,” An old man said to another, “Luckily no one was hurt or went missing this time.”

The drive was beautiful and the radio played nothing but summer hits, you were singing along with the others, they were your closest of friends. Lillia was a sweet young lady, she loved nature and had a particularly soft spot for mushrooms. She brought her camera and expected to take some cool shots over the course of the weekend.

You were looking forward to going wild, not like partying wild. No, more like, sitting in the dirt, lighting fires, and splashing around in a river. That was your paradise, your escape. Having almost screamed into the phone when the suggestion of camping was brought up. If it got you out of your house and out of your life for a moment, you would take it.

The camping grounds were pretty, you passed a sign on your way in that had a lot of warning pictures but you didn’t have time to read them all. The only one you saw was to put out your fires entirely before you leave, which honestly felt like common knowledge, and if you didn’t know that you shouldn’t go camping alone. Forest fires were not a joke.

Finding a place to pitch a tent was hard, a lot of the really shady spots were taken but there was a really beautiful spot by the river. According to Jester, your know-it-all friend, the river spread through the whole of the forest intricately like a spider web. “Because of the river the vegetation inside is thick, people say as you walk the vines grow around you and if you stop, you will be buried under the vegetation.”

“I heard that bad person used to leave their kids behind, and the forest took them in and that if ever you are lost or left behind the forest takes you,” Lillia said lowering her sweet voice trying to be serious. “There was a story, of a class field trip of kids were pulled off the trail and they were never seen again. They say the forest is evil.”

“I heard it protects the kids because they are left alone.” Jester contradicted and Lillia nodded pointing at the other. Nodding in agreement as she ate a slice of orange.

“I heard that too,” She smiled “I like that idea, that the forest just is a home taking care of the children left behind.”

As if ominously on cue the three of you had heard giggling coming from across the river. But it was drowned out by laughing and cheering from up the river, another group was splashing around and soon you all joined.

The two groups became friends and it was fun, but it started to rain, nothing extreme just a light drizzle. You had dinner early and hoped into your tents. You were alone in yours as there was supposed to be another person on the trip but they couldn’t make it due to a family event.

It didn’t take long until you were fast asleep to the sound of the rain. You don’t know how long you were asleep for when you woke up suddenly a sting in your chest, shaking that aside you heard crying.

Getting a little scared you poked your head outside the tent and saw a child running from one of the tents in the park to the water. He was calling for his mother and moving for the forest begging his mother to come back and you wondered if the mum had been taken or went to the toilet. Either way, this child was running straight into the forest.

Lost or left behind the forest takes you, you thought back on those words, The forest is evil.

Every other thought left your head and your primary objective was to save the child, you began running, your body felt like you were moving through cement. That’s how thick the plant life was, you had a stitch in your side after a mere five minutes of sprinting but you kept pushing until suddenly the child hopped across the rocks and curled up and he was gone, in his place was a Pinecone.

You hopped across the rocks careful not to get your feet wet, you had slipped on your sneakers and you didn’t want to walk back to camp with them wet. Speaking of camp, you were lost and the child you were following had disappeared and left in his place a pinecone.

Stepping up to the small pinecone, you pocket it and it wiggled around in the dirt letting out a chorus of childish laughter. Shaking with giggles in the corner of your eyes was a small pile of leaves, you were looking around breathing heavily and freaking out.

As you were frozen in place in shock and trying to catch a glimpse of someone playing a trick you felt something entwine around your legs. You shrieked jumping and ripping your feet free from the vines that started to grow around your shoes.

“Alright, boy’s you had your fun, go play with the other kids your age,” A voice said, you were relieved finally someone had revealed themselves it was just an elaborate plank until a decent sized boulder began to move, it was like camouflage, and from the curled up position a human stood up and straightened out. “Can’t a rock get some sleep around here?”

“Come on, Yoongi you are no fun?” a voice said from your left, you looked trying to find where the voice was coming from and you smiled seeing the moss open its eyes and step away from the tree making you shriek.

They were people camouflaged perfectly to appear like trees and rocks. They were strange-looking and you weren’t sure if this was some weird dream or if it was real. The more you looked the stranger they appeared. Some of their features were replaced with other things.

“I am starting to solidify more and more” the rock man who may be the one the other referred to as Yoongi muttered and a Berry Bush wiggled itself free from the ground and he walked over helping the rock man stretch.

“A log pulled itself up off the ground and stretched with the creak of old wooden furniture and gave a low groan. This distracted you from the movement behind you.

“We have been getting bored on our own, but it is nice to have a friend visit,” A voice said, and when you turned you saw a man covered in mushrooms, his head was topped by a big mushroom that made him look like he was wearing a bucket hat. You almost laughed at the insanity.

“Ahhh, it is so nice to be free” A sapling wiggled until its roots or in this case feet were free.

“Where is Jin?” The logman asked and they all looked around. The pile of leaves and the pinecone wiggled around until children appeared gesturing to a nearby meadow.

“Thank you Hyuning, Yeonjun” The mushroom guy smiled and they began hopping over the river using the rocks, The sapling grinned waving you to follow.

“If you stay too long the vines will start wrapping around you again, I am Jungkook” He smiled, along the way they all introduced themselves and you had to admit this was the oddest and trippiest meeting you ever had.

“There he is,” Taehyung called and Seokjin who they had told you about on the way had appeared lifting himself off the grounds his body covered in sweet flowers. “What were you doing out here?”

“I was trying to get some sleep but someone was snoring” He stretched ignoring the snickering from Jungkook who said he was probably up late with the kids playing games. “Who is this?”

“Oh, this is…” Namjoon said and froze, “I am sorry, we didn’t get your name?”

“Oh my name is Y/n” you smiled and they nodded

“We are helping Y/n get out of the forest,” Jimin said puffing his chest out his leaves rustling. It was so odd to see these people dressed like they were in some school play, like tree number one and rock number three.

“It’s no rush, just as long as I get out at some point,” You said trying to ease their worried expressions.

No, you don’t get it if you are still here when the sunrises, you will be stuck in the forest forever.” Yoongi said, “We are all here for a reason, Namjoon has been in the forest the longest, he used to be a tree before he fell.”

“Well, maybe we should hurry,” You said looking at the vines trying to wrap around your feet once more. “I have to keep moving these vines really are aggressive when it comes to wanting to keep me here.”

Along the way the boys began talking, each telling their story. Namjoon said he was from 1761 and he was left there by his mother who could no longer feed him after his father died. “I was nineteen and very sick so I didn’t last very long. But, it wasn’t long until I met Jin he was twenty-one and got lost in the forest.”

“I was collecting flowers for my fiancee I was supposed to be getting married shortly and well, I never even got to meet hurt.” Seokjin smiled, continuing on the storytelling from Namjoon and explaining his experience “I was kind of wishing I would get lost, I was so young and didn’t want to get married to a stranger.”

“I think it was 1892 and I was about twenty as well, I had run away from home, I remember stealing food from town and whilst escaping ran into the forest and I never came back out.” He shrugged, keeping his story concise as he helped you step over a fallen tree, “life as a rock is peaceful.”

“I was part of a traveling circus and well it wasn’t a good living, the people were awful and beat you if you spoke, one of the performers had a grudge for me so I hid in the forest and when I tripped the vines grew over me quickly” Hoseok made hand gestures at you making you giggle and move away from him, you bumped into Jimin who caught you before you fell. “That was maybe 1901 and I was about nineteen”

“I can’t remember much, I remember being really drowsy in a car and being told to wait while my father got some juice, I was about eighteen and he didn’t come back. The forest called me inside.” Jimin frowned slightly.

“I was hiking and I lost my way following a pretty butterfly,” Taehyung pouted, “I didn’t mean to get lost and I wish I had paid attention, I just wanted to take a picture.”

‘For me, it was not too long ago, a class excursion, we were following the trail and a bully dropped my hat in the river I chased after it and before I knew it I didn’t know where they had gone. I was seventeen.” Jungkook said with a smile that looked somewhat forced. “But it’s not all bad. I have made some really great friends.”

“And who else would play with the little ones. So many children got left in the forest much younger than us.” Seokjin explained sadly.

You saw the forest thinning out and flashes of red and blue flickered through the trees, you stepped out to the edge to see police and ambulances and more, there was a landslide. It was at your campsite, you froze looking around spotting your friends sitting in the back of the ambulance.

The vines were wrapping around your feet but you ripped them free, “it was nice meeting you thank you” You said, and placing the whistle between your lip you blew hard.

“We found her!” a voice shouted, you gave up on cautiously hopping rocks and went running across the river. When your foot touched the water you fell your shoes had disappeared as had your legs and from your waist down you were nothing but water. You looked up trying to drag yourself out to see your friends when you saw them carry your body out of the mud on a gurney.

You could never leave the forest but as the river flowed throughout you could visit all the residence inside.

If you enjoyed this story don’t forget to Like | Reblog so others can enjoy it too.

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iwaizooming · 4 years

Text

➵ lemon, mint, and cinnamon — i. hajime

✧ pairings: iwaizumi x gn! reader ✧ type: short fic ✧ genre: post-breakup; mostly fluff with angst in the end ✧ wc: 1k~

✧ synopsis: cleaning always brings back the memories; both good and bad. you and iwaizumi broke up in a mutual agreement, but then why does it all feel so wrong?

it’s spring cleaning season. you cleared out your schedule for the day, and god knows you need it. after all, it’s been a while since your apartment got a nice and thorough clean. you put on your earbuds to blast on your favorite spotify playlist and grabbed your heavy-duty cleaning gloves. you were humming along to brazil by declan mckenna and moving your head with the beat. it’s a nice day out, the skies are clear and there was a refreshing breeze, but you didn’t mind being home. after all, you find cleaning pretty therapeutic instead of tedious. the monotonous and repetitive actions clears your mind; ending up with a clean apartment is a nice bonus as well.

you started with the bathroom. it’s one of the easiest one to clean because you always keep it relatively spotless. all of your skincare products are stored behind the mirrored cabinets, away from the public eye. you’re no neat freak by any means, but somehow you managed to keep your bathroom super neat. you smile to yourself as you remember how you used to be years ago, before you moved out to a place of your own. your mom used to yell at you a lot for being a messy bum.

after wiping the mirrors and shower screen off with a microfibre cloth and a bottle of glass cleaner, you went ahead and continued with what’s inside the cabinets. be with me by boy pablo sang in your ears as you sorted through your seemingly endless skincare products.

after you’re done with the bottom and middle rows you stood on your tiptoes to reach for the plain cardboard box on the uppermost row of the cabinets. it was where you stored all your backup products, so you wanted to take a peek to see if you needed to grab anything from the drugstore.

your movements falter as your eyes fall on the small white boxes. dove bar soap. you know that those aren’t yours. you know full well who those belong to. your heart clenched as the soft scent of citrus invades your senses and before you could stop yourself, your mind started to wander.

every evening after uni, hajime would always go to your place to freshen up. he said that the californian weather was way too hot for his liking, but you always catch him smiling whenever the sun was shining bright and the skies were cloudless. he’d always smell like lemons after coming out of his short shower, the white towel you specifically set aside for him wrapped around his hips, dangerously low.

you loved teasing him when he’s in nothing but a towel because you loved how exposed he is in that moment. you loved seeing him blush and try to stutter out words while you pepper his bare neck and chest with open-mouthed kisses. you loved just how his skin smelled so fresh and citrusy, just like a bright summer's day. he’d always complain that he just got out of the shower, why couldn’t you have done this before? but he’d always give in after a few minutes.

every other week, you have to pick up his shampoo for him, because that boy always seems to forget to buy it for himself when he’s running low. you don’t mind at all though, you have to go grocery shopping anyway, so it’s convenient for you. no matter how many times you try to remind him, he can’t seem to remember. you’ll hear him grumble to himself on a sunday afternoon because he forgot to get the damn shampoo again, and he couldn’t wash his hair because of that. hajime’s choice of shampoo fits him perfectly, you think. peppermint. strong and sharp, but also fresh and soothing. you can’t help but wonder if he still forgets to buy his shampoo now.

your fingers always found their way into his damp hair, loving how soft they were despite the short length. you’d get him to make a twisty towel thing on his hair- it’s to get it to dry quicker, you insist. you’re not lying, but it doesn’t mean you’re not laughing while taking blurry pictures of him to set it as your lock screen. he’d pretend that he’s mad, but his hearty laughs and flushed cheeks tell you otherwise. it somehow always ends in a tickle war with both of you on the floor rolling around, laughing uncontrollably.

citrus and mint fits him so perfectly. sharp and bright and fresh and soothing all at the same time. you loved how he smells right after a nice cool shower. but your favourite is when he smells like cinnamon.

once the clock hits 00.01 on the first of september, it’s basically christmas time for the both of you. it’s so so silly, but it makes you so giddy when hajime starts bringing out your christmas decorations. you celebrate halloween, of course, but the pumpkins and spooky skull ornaments sit alongside the bright tinsel and white-painted pinecones. you loved baking with hajime- he’s surprisingly really good at it. it doesn’t matter if it’s snickerdoodle cookies or cinnamon rolls that day, once you’re done with your creations that day, he always smells heavenly. the sweet scent of cinnamon seems to linger a little longer than it’s supposed to.

no matter what scent he was sporting that day, he always smells like home. he was home.

no, you reminded yourself, finally successfully shaking yourself out of the nostalgic trance you were in for the past god knows how long. you don’t regret your decision, you try to remind yourself.

hajime was your right person, wrong time. both of you agreed that it’s not going to work out. with his dreams of permanently returning to japan as the olympics team’s athletic trainer and yours of moving to london to work for a big name fashion company, the two of you came to the conclusion that it would be best to let each other go. none of you are willing to let go of your own dreams, and none of you wanted the other to give their dreams up either.

so it was the right decision to make.

but as the tears in your eyes blur your vision and make it hard for you to clean your sink properly, you start to think that you’re just trying to convince yourself that you didn’t make a huge mistake. and failing. miserably.

other works

✎ a/n: hi hello i just wanted some domestic & fluffy iwa brainrot but i can’t stop myself from including angst lol

#[❥] iwaizooming fics #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi brainrot #haikyuu angst #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu headcanons #haiikyuu x reader #angst #iwaizumi fluff

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angiethewitch · 3 years

Note

Hey! can i ask what you recommend in regards to rat toys and different things to put in their cages to keep em happy? Id love to hear some suggestions

hey! sorry this took so long to answer I saw it last night but I was really tired and my meds were making me sleepy.

get lots of stuff for them to climb. I went into the pet bird section and got a huge climbing rope, a little perch, a ladder, 2 ropes to suspend across the cage and a hanging hide

get some platforms to add to the cage, you can screw them at the side. they love lots of little places to hide

I suggest getting dig boxes for them, they love digging through paper and hay to find treats

some gnawing toys are always good, they love them and it's good for dental health

they love little bells, I went to the cat section of pets at home and got them bells for them to play with

get balls! I got some made from natural materials, they love playing pass the ball with me and they shredded some for bedding

get some rat safe wooden sticks, they like to gnaw on them and I play fetch with them using them

get some nice big tunnels, I have a straw one they like to hide in and a huge cardboard one they enjoy chewing on

save up cardboard toilet rolls and kitchen rolls. stuff them with paper and treats and chuck them in there, they have a fun time getting to the snacks

grow some cress or something in a little box and put it in the cage for them to dig in

get brown paper and throw it in for them to shred for bedding

get some hanging gnaw toys for them to climb to and chew on

keep cardboard boxes and make little castles for them

I made a foraging box where I put toilet rolls in a cardboard box standing up and put treats, a pinecone, a cork stopper, paper and other assorted shit, they had fun getting into them and finding the toys and treats

in the summer, get a dish or a bowl and fill it with water and put frozen peas in, they loveeee to catch the peas and it keeps them cool

as an avid rock collector I got some large flat pebbles from the beach, washed them and put them in the cage, they use them to scratch on and it keeps their nails a healthy length

I got some natural twine and string and knotted it and tied it to the cage, they enjoy playing tug of war with them

I got coconut hides and stuffed them with hay and treats

a lot of toys you can diy, look on Pinterest and Google for DIY rat enrichment toys to make, they're fun to make and most of the stuff you can find around the house! if you're buying toys, I have some more pricey ones but they're worth getting. have fun!

#anonymous #rat enrichment

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

Could you do an Indruck (or OT4 because you got me into the whole pairing :) ) NSFW ghost prompt? Go nuts, I just love your writing and I trust your creative vision.

Here you go! I went with the OT4. And I’m so glad you like that pairing!

The kitchen box is half-unpacked when there’s a knock on the door. Duck figures it’s the take-out he ordered, so he’s surprised to see a tall guy in nice jeans and short-sleeved dress shirt decorated with Jackalopes. Unless the Thai place uses male supermodels as delivery boys, this isn’t his Pad Thai.

“Uh, hey, what can I do for you?”

“I’m your downstairs neighbor, so I wanted to come up and introduce myself. I hope I’m not interrupting dinner.”

“Nope, still waitin on it. Nice to meet you, name’s Duck.” He holds out his hand and Mr. Gorgeous shakes it.

“Joseph. Oh, um, here” he produces a small greeting card with a sea monster on it, “welcome to the neighborhood.” His pocket rings, and so he excuses himself, hurrying down the stairs with his phone to his ear. The card contains a gift certificate to the coffee shop on the corner.

They don’t cross paths again right away. It’s more that Duck will move Joe’s packages into the main hall rather than leave them on a rainy porch, and Joe delivers Pinecone the cat back to him after she slips out the door and down the stairs while Duck wrestles his keys.

As it warms up, they use the pool around the same time each day (which is how Duck learns Joe’s had top surgery, same as him), and start talking more in the lobby when they see each other. He learns Joseph works for the FBI in the UP, the agreement being he can make X-files jokes as long as Joe gets to make Smokey the Bear references in return. The way Joseph laughs, water streaming down his honest-to-god defined abs as he pulls himself onto the edge of the pool, makes Duck glad he’s never seen a boyfriend coming or going from the other mans apartment.

Tonight, he’s done helping Joe get all his groceries up the stairs in one go, and decides to go for it.

“Hey, uh, Joe? You doin’ anythin tomorrow night?”

“No.” He studies Duck’s body language and gives an encouraging smile.

“In that case; wanna get dinner?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

“I think this building is haunted.”

Duck, head still resting on Joe’s chest after jacking him off as thanks for an excellent blowjob, laughs, “That’s some interestin pillow talk you got there.”

“Are you that surprised?”

“No, you fuckin nerd.” He nips his collarbone, shifting so they’re each on their sides, facing one another, “for real though, why do you think we got ghosts runnin’ around?”

“At first I thought I was imagining it, or that I felt like I was being watched because the cases studies I was reading put the suggestion in my head. Then things started moving around the apartment, and now and then I swear I hear people whispering. I tracked the sound one day and it was coming from the wall that looks out onto the street. No one was down there, and if it were the result of an echo or strange acoustics, I’d notice it more.”

“Huh.” Duck pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“Still, I’m not ready to say for certain that it’s haunted. That kind of thing requires concrete evidence that I just don’t have. Sorry, shouldn’t talk shop when I have a, um, guest.” He wiggles back into Duck’s space, kissing him gently, and Duck forgets what they were talking about.

---------------------------------------------

He knows Ouija Boards are a dodgy investigation tool at the best of times, but today he came home to find all his laundry folded when he had, much to his chagrin, had to leave it in the bag in a rush to get to work.

No one has a key to his place. Which means whoever did that had another way in.

He clears his throat, “If there is a ghost or other supernatural entity in the apartment with me, I wanted to say thank you for putting my clothes away.”

Nothing but his own creeping humiliation, then a slight chill across his face. The planchette moves

U.R. W.E.L.C.O.M.E

“HAH!” He whoops, “I was right! My apartment is haunted. Okay, um, spirit, do you have a name?”

B.A.R.C.L.A.Y

“It’s nice to officially meet you, Barclay. You’ve been spending a lot of time around me.”

Y.E.A.H S.O.R.R.Y

“You don’t need to apologize, I don’t mind it. You’re not malevolent, and if this was your apartment when you died, I can’t very well get mad at you for hanging around. Are you able to become visible?”

YES

“Is there, um, a reason you’ve never materialized around me?”

D.I.D.N.T W.A.N.T T.O S.C.A.R.E Y.O.U

“You won’t, I’m a professional. And I’m curious about the person I’m sharing my home with.”

The planchette trembles, unsure of it’s direction at first.

S.H.Y

That explanation never occurred to him.

“That’s alright. If you ever change your mind, know you don’t have to hide on my behalf.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

“Barclay, even I can tell that was an invitation to interact with him. What more are you waiting for?” Indrid cocks his head.

“Maybe he’s just trying to appease me because he’s scared of ghosts?”

“Those ‘paranormal romances’ on his shelf suggest otherwise.” Indrid touches Barclay’s cheek. They’re in the wall, their shared nature meaning they can see, hear, and touch each other without trying, “dearest, you’re clearly fond of him, and he’s eager to meet you.”

Barclay’s beard scratches his palm, “Yeah, I know. I’m just...I like to take things slow and, uh, I guess this is no exception.”

Indrid chuckles, dryly adds “Yes, I recall how long after propositioning you it took for you to practically bang down my door.”

“Okay, hot little art punk who literally asked me if I wanted to see what his tongue piercing felt like on my dick is the exception.” He kisses Indrid’s cheek before drifting away.

Indrid floats up into his former apartment, now occupied by Duck Newton. He spends most of his days on the couch while Duck is off at work, watching T.V or reading or, increasingly, playing with Pinecone, the only being he’s materialized for in some time. He’s been content to never alert Duck to his existence, but yesterday he overheard him remaining skeptical at the idea of the building being haunted, much to Joseph’s disgruntlement. Indrid’s as well; Barclay isn’t the only one who finds Joseph attractive and charming.

So he thinks Duck deserves some low-stakes haunting of his own.

---------------------------------------

Duck’s having a hell of a week. The hinges on his cabinets must be going, because they keep falling open, his router keeps getting unplugged (probably by Pinecone), and no matter how he insulates, there’s a chill in the living room.

Worst off all, when he pulled the fridge away from the wall to see if it was to blame for the cold spot, it revealed a hole into the wall that is just big enough for Pinecone to get into. Which she did, last night, and will not come out no matter what he tries.

When he walks into the living room after work, his brain stalls out. The good news is, Pinecone is no longer in the wall.

The bad news is she’s floating at a fixed point four feet about the floor.

His cat notices him, mrrps, and lands on the floor. All Joe’s talk of ghosts suddenly feels very real and points at one conclusion.

“Holy shit” he picks up the black and brown ball of fluff, “my cat’s fuckin’ possessed.”

“Not quite” the voice in his ear is quiet, lilting.

“JESUSFUCK.” He spins to face an invisible interloper, Pinecone firmly in his arms.

A smile, and only a smile, appears a fear inches above his eyeline, “Do you still doubt the building is haunted?”

“Wh--motherfucker, you’re Joe’s ghost and you decided to talk to me? To what, make a point?”

“Yes and no. Yes in that I wanted you to stop doubting my existence. No in that Barclay is the former resident of Josephs’ dwelling. I am a former resident of this one.”

The implications of there being a ghost dedicated to his apartment hit him like a train, “Have you just been hangin around me since I moved in, watchin my every move?”

The smile wavers, “Nono, nothing so alarming. I usually come here when you’re at work, or spend time with Barclay in the spaces between walls and worlds. That’s, ah, not to say I haven’t been in the armchair while you were watching T.V on the couch, but in my defense you have very interesting taste in documentaries.” The ghost notices Duck’s alarm, and the smile fades from view, “I apologize. It was rude of me to be in your space without permission. Space is a much more malleable thing when you’re a ghost, but that is no excuse.”

“I mean, yeah, it’s fuckin creepy.”

Pinecone jumps from his grasp, winds herself in a circle around what must be ghostly legs.

“But uh, my cat likes you. And she can be skittish. I, uh, worry about her gettin lonely on days when I work late. So you can hang around when I’m out. But other’n that we gotta play by vampire rules; you don’t come into my space unless invited. Deal?”

The smile flickers back into view, “Deal.”

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Joseph, all too aware of his own perfectionist nature, tries to avoid jealousy. It only ever serves to poison him against others and his own fragile inner being.

But lord almighty is he jealous that Duck got a verbal, physical visit from his specter, Indrid, while Barclay doesn’t so much as whisper in Joseph’s vicinity. It had been hard to be envious in the moment, because he was too excited by the news, to the point that he climbed into Ducks lap and started kissing him because all his adrenaline needed an outlet.

Then Duck had frozen, asking if he thought the ghosts would watch them hook-up. Joseph pointed out that Indrid had promised to only visit when invited and Barclay was polite, so odds were good they were truly alone. He kept the fact that Duck’s suggestion made him instantly hard to himself.

(Duck picked up on it anyway, if the jokes about Ghost and the supremely satisfying make-out session were anything to go by).

He’s making fried rice for dinner, is mid-way through chopping green onions when his phone buzzes. A glance over his shoulder reveals it’s not a work call or an emergency. Suddenly, something cold and strong grips his right hand and there is, without a doubt, a human frame pressed to his back. He can’t move his hand, follows the line of his knife and sees the next chop would have caught his finger.

“Barclay?”

“Yeah. Sorry I, uh, just didn’t want you cutting a finger off.” The hold on him disappears as that baritone drips down his spine.

Joseph turns just as Barclay comes into view; he’s taller than Joseph, a rare thing given he’s six-foot, with shaggy brown hair and a short, coppery beard. Full lips and brown eyes round out the face that is straight from Joseph’s fantasies.

“Wow. Um, I mean, thank you for saving me a trip to the emergency room.”

“No problem.”

Drawing on years of training, he tries to keep the other man talking, “Were you just passing through?”

“Kinda. This is gonna sound weird but, uh, I loved cooking when I was alive. Sometimes I like to be close by when you’re cooking so I can get some of the sensations again.”

Joseph steps to the side, gesturing to the cutting board, “Do you...want to help me make dinner? If you can interact with my body, you should be able to prepare veggies no problem.”

Barclay hesitantly steps to the counter, shakes his head when Joseph offers the knife, “I have to dematerialize first. Being visible and being solid take so much energy that I can only do one or the other.”

“Fascinating. Just, um, I hope I get to see your face again.”

Barclay disappears, and a half-second later an invisible hand squeezes his arm, “Think I can manage that.”

Barclay joins him for dinner regularly after that. Duck recovers fairly quickly to Joseph’s spectral assistant, especially when Barclay makes him french onion soup. Joseph suspects Duck is also getting used to ghosts in general, since more than once he’s knocked on the door and walked in to find the ranger conversing with Indrid (though Indrid insists on remaining dematerialized).

Tonight it’s just him and Barclay, and Joseph is busy sticking his foot in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, that’s a rude question-”

Barclay chuckles, “Not really, it’s kinda the first thing everyone wants to know about ghosts, right? Why we’re here? Short answer is, uh” he sighs, “I had a heart condition but not the time or money to get it checked out. Fucking thing failed me one Sunday morning at that was it. Poor Indrid found me. We had a casual thing going and he had a key to my place. Came to check on me when he heard me hit the ground.”

“Oh Barclay, that sounds awful for you both.”

“Yeah, death isn’t my fave.” Barclay lays down, disappearing so his head can rest properly in Joseph’s lap. The agent feels around until he finds soft hair, petting it as Barclay continues his story.

“At first I thought my unfinished business might have to do with Indrid. But when he died pretty soon after, I kinda figured it was more that when I died, the direction I went was the ‘become a ghost’ one and not, like, the ‘rest in peace’ one.”

“Do you wish you could move on? Because I have access to a lot of classified occult information.”

The head under his hand turns, the direction of the motion suggesting Barclay is looking up at him, “Gotta be honest, lately being a ghost has gotten way more interesting.”

------------------------------------------------

It takes two drawers before Duck finds where he put the AAA batteries. The package is already open, and when he gets to the living room his Carbon Monoxide detector is floating, back removed as fresh batteries click into place.

“Damn, ‘Drid, the thing just started beepin about it’s low battery.”

“Such things cannot be delayed. Trust me.”

“....Oh fuck, is that what got you?”

The detector slips back onto it’s wall mount, “Yes. I, I was always so careful, trying to prepare for every possible disaster. When Barclay died I, ah, I found it harder to do daily tasks. One of those was replacing the batteries in this” a plastic tap, “the low-power beep kept bothering me, so I detached it, planning to fix it in the morning. Then the next morning, and the next, and so on. Well, I put it off one too many times. A mundane, pointless death if there ever was one.”

Duck sets the battery package on the table, opening his arms. Cold fingers cling to the back of his shirt as Indrid hugs him. Duck does his best to soothe the ghost, rocking them subtly in a way that works wonders on his living friends.

“Thank you” spectral eyelashes flutter against his neck as Indrid burrows against him. They say nothing else, staying in the embrace until Pinecone pads over and demands dinner.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Duck just means to drop off the books he borrowed from Joe, finds the door unlocked and figures the other man is home, probably cooking or yelling at a bigfoot hunting show. When he doesn’t see him in the living room, he pokes his head down the hall.

It takes a moment for his brain to process what he’s seeing. By the time it does, he’s already backing out the door.

Okay, he just walked in on his sorta-boyfriend getting railed by a ghost, face buried against the bed, moaning while a cock he couldn’t see spread his ass open over and over again. That’s fine, that’s completely fine and not hot at all, he’s just taking his pants off in his living room for unrelated reasons.

“Ah, Duck?”

“Fuck!” He looks around, trying to work out where Indrid is and how much he can see.

The couch cushions shift, “I apologize, I thought you were out running errands.”

“S’okay” He pulls his hand out of his boxers, “I, uh, I was just, uh, tryin to, uh…”

The ghost waits patiently for him to come to the truth.

Duck sighs, slumps down on what he’s pretty sure is a free spot, “Walked in on Joe and Barclay.”

“I see. Does it bother you?”

“No. I, uh, kinda got the sense they were into each other, and we ain’t exclusive.”

The smile appears next to him, invisible fingers tracing up his arm “Does it do something else to you?”

“Indrid, please I already got the weirdest fuckin boner right now.”

“And I am offering to help. I know I often joke about sharing Barclay’s taste in men but…” a light, chilly kiss on his cheek, “I share Joseph’s as well. I would very much like the chance to show you what I mean.” The fingers and lips teasing his skin cease their touches; space to refuse that Duck appreciates.

“You know what? Fuck it” Duck works his pants the rest of the way off, throws his boxers after them, “get on your knees, sugar, and show me what you mean.”

“Ooh, I get a pet name!” Indrid claps, excited, rests his hands on Duck’s knees after he spreads them. Duck tracks his position by his smile, is unprepared for how strange it feels when it dives between his thighs. He’s used to Joe, all hot breath and enthusiastic precision. This is like the time an ex tried using an ice cube but way, way better, the chill heightening the sensations rather than numbing them.

It’s also teasing, and he grunts, tipping his hips up, “‘Drid, please.”

“Patience, sweetheart, I haven’t done anything like this in years, I intend to take my time.” A playful tongue drags up his dick.

“Sugar, I’ll let you do this every day for a week, figure out how to give a ghost a fuckin hand job, anythin, but if I don’t cum soon I’m gonna combust. So get that cute little mouth where it belongs and suck my dick.”

The smile sharpens, “Make me.”

He threads his fingers into Indrid’s hair, shoving him forward. The ghost moans, tongue working across his folds in rapid swipes. Curious, he tugs on the soft strands and a messy purr vibrates up his dick.

“Someone like it rough?”

He feels the responding nod. Tightens his grip, “Then fuckin suck it like I told you too, sugar.”

Cold lips envelope his dick, Indrid moaning as he sucks. One hand rubs what his mouth can’t attend to, but the other leaves Duck’s knee right before Indrid’s whimpers grow shorter.

“That’s it, get off while I fuck your face, fuck, Joe’s really onto somethin with this paranormal shit, you’re so good sugar, fuckme that’s good. C’mon” he jerks his hips, orgasm building mercifully fast, “make me cum, like that, right fuckin there ohfuck.” He cums, feet scuffing on the rug. Indrid’s moan turns to a gasp as he pulls away, cum making a damp spot on the ground.

Duck pets his hair, “Sure showed me.”

Indrid snickers, turns to press his face to kiss his palm.

“‘Drid? You, uh, you don’t have to, but could I see you? All of you?”

His hands cradle air as a man forms before him; lanky and bony, hair dyed silver with black roots showing, pierced ears and lip, tattoos coating the arms that stick out from a white tank-top. He bites his lip, awaiting judgement as Duck sinks off the couch to sit with him.

“Not gonna lie, sugar, mighty peeved you kept usin my pens and didn’t even let me see this face everyday as payment.”

Indrid blinks, then laughs, loud and relieved, “I’m glad you approve; I am not everyone’s type.”

“Sure as hell are mine.” Duck puts his hand through his knee, frowns, “wish I could hold you and see you at the same time. Be that as it may, know you’re always runnin cold. You, uh, wanna join me for a little afternoon nap?”

“Of course” he fades away, and takes Ducks’ hand.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Duck’s never seen Joe this excited which, given that they went to a “Cryptids in Film” exhibit last weekend, is saying something.

“Ready?” His boyfriend tightens the strap-on harness, sporting Duck’s favorite of his dicks.

“You know it, darlin.”

Joe climbs onto the bed, makes a suave roll onto his back and pats his thighs, “Then come here. I want to see as much of you as possible while I fuck you.”

“You’re the boss, handsome.” He sinks down with a groan, slowly rocking his hips to get warmed up.

Joe gropes his ass, growling, “Lord, look at this. Your ass is incredible, Duck, just like the rest of you.”

He dips down to kiss him in reply, messing up that dark hair and leaving a hickey on his collarbone. A chill runs up his spine and he shudders; two days ago, after the two ghosts and two humans hashed out who was dating who and what that meant, Joe admitted to a fantasy in which he and Duck were rudely interrupted by two horny paranormal entities.

Duck kisses the corner of his mouth, grinds down with a whine, “c’mon Joe, know you can go harder than that.”

“The angle isn’t to my advantage.”

“Well then” purrs a voice from their right, “let’s remedy that.”

Duck’s pulled sideways, the momentum enough to reverse their positions and pop the toy loose.

“Now, pet, you are going to start fucking him again, and I’m going to fuck you to insure the pace is the perfect one for my dear Duck.”

The strap-on slides back in, Duck arching when it does. Joe’s hips snap forward, propelled by something other than the strength of his muscles.

“AHlord, Indrid, yes. Is, is that good?” His blue eyes focus on Duck, who pulls him down into a kiss, panting as Indrid uses Joe to fuck him hard and fast. Then Joe’s head whips up and sideways, an invisible cock forcing it’s way into his mouth to muffle his moans.

“Fuck, that’s it babe, get me hard so I can fuck you when Indrid’s had his fill.”

“That may take some time. Never fear, I have other plans for my pet.”

Joe squeaks, and Duck watches the muscles of his ass flex in new ways as black silicone appears and retreats from view over and over. From under him, Duck has a singularly good view of his lips stretching to accommodate Barclay, who’s busy demanding he look him in the eye when he takes his cock. He runs a loving hand up Joe’s chest, strokes the cheek not bulging with the head of a thick cock.

“Fuck that’s hot.” His body agrees, but in spite of his boyfriends’ joint efforts and the obscene view making him wetter by the second, his orgasm eludes him.

“J-joe, ‘Drid, please I, I’m real fuckin close but I need more pressure or, fuck, or friction or somethingfuck, hell fuckin yeah that’s it.” He pumps his hips, Barclay having freed Joe to bury his face in Ducks’ neck and put strip of the harness holding the toy where Duck can rub off on it.

“That’s it, like that Joe, ‘Drid, fuckfuckfuckfuck” He gasps, eyes rolling back in his head as the orgasm shoots through him. It’s perfect, made more so by the knowledge that Indrid will let him bask in the aftershocks.

Joe, however, is in for something very different. Duck is still getting his vision back when the harness takes an unceremonious flight off the bed. As he sits up, the plug takes the same journey, and he knows Joe will insist on cleaning it even more thoroughly than usual now that it’s been on the rug.

His boyfriend is on his knees, lowering with incremental bursts of effort and jerks of his hips. When he stops with a moan, it looks as though his ass is hovering in mid-air. Phantom indentations press into his hips.

“Very good pet” Indrid’s voice is turning breathy, “no, lean back so Barclay can fuck you raw while I make short work of this tight” Joe jolts up as Indrid bucks his hips, “little” another jolt, “ass” a final jolt before Joe tips backwards, opening his legs.

Duck watches, mesmerized, as Joe is spread open, feet lifting off the blanket as more indents appear beneath his knees. The agent, usually so articulate, does nothing but moan at the invisible intrusion.

“Fuckin-A, I’ll never get tired of this babe, you’re fucking dripping for me and it’s so fucking hot, how much of a fucking needy, dirty guy you are.”

Joe reaches one hand forward, trying to run his fingers up Barclay’s chest. The other extends towards Duck, and the ranger crawls so he can take it, kissing it as the indents of Indrid’s arms wrap around Joe’s lower belly.

“I’d hold tight, dearest.”

“Why-”

Duck’s answer comes in the form of a yelp from Joe. To anyone else, it would look like the agent is trying and failing to wrestle the air. His back arches, making every sinful line of his body tense, while his hands claw at the bed and Duck’s arm and his legs bounce uselessly in the air.

Duck peers around, careful not to bonk his head into Barclay. From here Joe is on full display, both holes stretching and twitching to take what they’re given. He wishes it was easier for him to get hard again; all he can think about is sitting on Joe’s face while the others fuck him like this, catch this sobbing moans in his skin while he’s reduced to nothing but a plaything for the paranormal.

“Damn, darlin, you’re takin it like a champ. Maybe next time I’ll film it for ya, so you can see how fuckin hot you look getting fucked to pieces on some ghost dick.”

A louder sob of pleasure, and as he goes to soothe him with kisses Barclay grunts, “Don’t you fucking pull away, don’t care if you just came you’re fucking taking it all.”

“Do hurry up with him, Barclay. Ah, perfect, thank you.” With that, the forces bouncing Joe in the air come only from beneath him, Indrid pumping mercilessly into his ass and punching little “ah, aah, ahnns” out of him. He’s so blissed out that Duck can’t help himself, steadies his face in his hands so he can kiss him while Indrid cums with a high cry.

There’s an “oof” as Indrid rolls Joe’s head into Duck’s lap. A hand turns Duck by his chin so he can get a kiss before Indrid becomes visible. Barclay appears at Joe’s feet, does his best to lay parallel to him and then disappears.

“You always did like to spoon immediately after.” Indrid says fondly, drifting to sit beside Duck.

“Mhmmm” comes the rumbly reply.

“You okay, darlin?” Duck brushes the hair from Joe’s face as blue eyes flutter open.

“Never better. Oh!” He sits up abruptly, Duck is more used to his boyfriend’s post-orgasm bursts of inspiration than the other two and thus doesn’t jump in surprise, “I found a potentially useful book at work the other day…”

---------------------------------------------

“So, uh, how long do we have?” Barclay brushes lint from his shirt, stepping outside the chalk pattern on the floor somewhat hesitantly.

“As long as the candle burns. Which is why I bought one that can stay lit for at least ten hours.” He offers his hand and his fully visible, touchable boyfriend takes it. Indrid, having more trust in occult processes, practically leapt over the chalk a moment ago to kiss him and Duck. Joseph draws Barclay into his arms, “which is all to say: we have plenty of time for date night.”

#OT4: Government Men and Their Cryptid Boyfriends #reader requests #monster march #ghost AU #Indruck #sternclay #agent stern/barclay/indrid cold/Duck newton #duck newton/agent stern #indrid cold/agent stern

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