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lainiespicewrites · 3 months

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Electric summer Ch. 2

Here is chapter 2! I love everything about this story so far it’s so fun to write and I adore writing Sy! It was so weird I was modeling this after my time at camp and I literally got a brochure from them in the mail today😂 maybe the universe is telling me something 👀

Anyway enjoy! Comments, likes and weblogs are encouraged!

Summary: Sy and ofc are united as camp co-counselors and spend the day catching up and reminiscing!

Warnings:none? Just cursing a lil

Link for Pt 1 if you missed it 🥰

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I blinked a few times in disbelief. “How, I-I…aren’t you…” I stammered trying to string a sentence together, still lost in the puzzle my brain was trying to work out. How was he standing here in front of me right now?

“Come here,” He laughed. Throwing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me into a tight hug. I was still for a moment still in shock about the situation but I pulled myself out of it and hugged him back squeezing just as tight.

“I can’t believe it,” He chuckled. “This had to be Rebecca’s doing.” He said.She was an old counselor of ours. She was with us our last summer together.She also happened to be camp director now and in charge of assigning cabin groups. This was surely not a coincidence. Sy’s arms were still around me. Admittedly I wasn’t ready to pull away just yet either. I was afraid he’d disappear and this would all be a dream. My mind was playing tricks on me or something.

“How are you here?” I finally strung the question together, pulling back to look up at him. Did he get taller? I could have shrunk but I swear he got taller. “I mean aren’t you in the military?” I asked, obviously confused.

“Take a walk with me?” he asked. “I’ve been dying to see this place again.” He added. I nodded and we finally let go of each other. It may have been years since we’d seen each other but I could still read him. Logan was social. He loved to talk, he was extremely expressive and attentive. Right now he’s quiet. And pensive. When we walked away from the cabin he shoved both hands in his pockets staring straight ahead. Whatever had happened it was difficult for him. Like the night on the lake in the canoe. When he told me he wouldn’t be coming back to camp. It’s why he wouldn’t look at me. He knew or was afraid that after all this time I could tell when something was hard for him.

He hated coming off as weak. It’s why he was so competitive. When the boys played ultimate frisbee his team always won. In high school when he played football he was the quarterback. He had to be the best. The strongest. The leader. But not with me. He told me that once. He told me even before our summer fling, back when all we were was best friends excited to spend the summer together. That’s why he liked me so much. He could let his guard down with me. I didn’t understand it then. But eventually I figured out exactly what he meant. And I saw it in him now. Even when we’d only been reunited for minutes.

We walked from my cabin and through the park out to an open field outside the woods. There was a path that ran alongside it. If you took it left it would take you to the lake down to the dock to swim, if you followed it further you crossed a bridge and you could go sailing or take out a kayak or a canoe. If you took the path right it was a hiking trail. It had its own forks in the road one leading to a nature preserve and a small shelter where the camp housed some exotic reptiles and other animals. And one that led to a ropes course and a rock climbing station. We didn’t take either path. Sy stopped walking and stared off at the trees. I came up next to him and gently put my hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me, we don’t have to talk about it, whatever it is. I’m just really glad you’re here.” I spoke softly. I felt his hand over mine on his shoulder and he turned to me with a sad smile. He let out a deep breath before he spoke

“I’m retired from the military. Uh, discharged. Medically.” He stared at the grass when he spoke. I could hear the shame in his voice. It broke my heart. I slid my hand off his shoulder and over his back soothingly. I didn’t say anything. He knew I was listening. “Last April, I was leading the boys into a raid. We’d been waiting on this for weeks. Trying to find these guys. Somehow they got tipped off that we were comin’ and they were ready. One of my boys was being attacked. Enemy came out of nowhere. I jumped to cover him. Told him to run up stairs with the rest of the guys to secure the building. He was alright. His chest plate protected him. But I got shot in the leg with 2 bullets. I managed to stop the attacker. But I had to be carried out of there. They sent a Med-line, it's a helicopter.” He explained. I nodded and let him keep talking.

“I was in surgery that night. They almost thought I was gonna have to lose it. But the Dr was able to get the bullets out. They uh, didn’t think I’d walk right again. So.. I was discharged from the military not long after. They transferred me to a civilian hospital for physical therapy…” He trailed off.

“How is it now?” I asked softly. He finally looked up from the grass. My voice pulled him back to reality.

“I ain’t gonna be runnin’ in the Olympics anytime soon but. Normal. Aches sometimes when the weather gets weird or cold. Probably coulda went back but no one knew how long it would take. Or if…if I’d ever get better.” He said.

“They should’ve known,” I said, “nothing stops Logan Syverson when he’s got his mind made up.” There it was. That genuine smile I’d missed all these years.

“Guess they don’t know me like you do,” He chuckled. “Enough about me, it’s been 7 years darlin what have I missed?” he asked, his hand hovering over my lower back guiding me toward the left path. We started to walk again toward the lake.

“I wish I could say you missed a lot but,” I shrugged. “I graduated. Went to school and graduated again, and at the end of this summer I’ll finally start my first job with the schools.” I explained flatly. It was nothing compared to the things he’d done and what he’d seen.

“Hey, graduating college is a big deal. I’m proud of you! Child Psychology, right?” He asked. I stopped walking and just stared.

“You, remember that?” I questioned. He laughed and threw his arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side.

“Of course I do. It was all you talked about our last summer together. You were nervous about getting into the school you wanted. I admired that because you were only a junior. I was going into my senior year and I’d never even thought about that shit.”

“But you knew you were going into the military, you didn’t have to think about that.” I argued.

“Maybe, but you were so smart, you are so smart, you had it all figured out. I was just following what everyone else in my family did. Now that I’m out, I kinda wish I’d had some other plan. Something I knew I wanted to do to fall back on.” I nodded. I understood what he meant. It must be hard for him now. The things he’d aspired to be in his adolescence had come and passed. He had to reinvent himself now. Start over. I couldn’t imagine how scary that must feel.

“You’re smart too Logan. You’re quick in a crisis. You’re logical and level headed. You’re great with people. And and from what you’ve said you’re an incredible leader. I have no doubt you’ll figure it all out soon.” We had wandered some more, now we were walking along the lake. Or what we knew as the beach. When they’d built the camp they carved out the shore and laid down sand. Leaving it more like mini beach than a country lake. I followed Logan out onto the dock. He turned to me and smiled.

“I think coming back here this summer was exactly what I needed.” He said. I smiled back giving his arm a gentle squeeze… and trying not to dwell on the fact that his muscles had gotten incredibly larger.

“It’s funny,” I answered. “I always remember it being the other way around, you giving me pep talks and encouraging me to take risks.” He chuckle the air between us becoming lighter as I watched his smile form into a playful smirk.

“That’s because you were always trying to chicken out. You were a little scaredy cat.” He laughed. I pouted. And smacked him in the arm. “Ow,” he teased as he fake soothed his arm.

“I was not!” I argued. He shook his head.

“You were too!” He challenged. I rolled my eyes resting my hands on my hips.

“Name one time,” I groaned. He eyed me with that same smirk on his face with an eyebrow raised looking at me curiously.

“You really wanna do this? He teased. “Alright, you did this to yourself, night hikes.” He stated. I frowned.

“Oh that is so not fair!” I objected. “You know I hate the dark. That doesn’t count!” I argued.

“Mhmm, rock climbing.” he deadpanned. I scoffed.

“I suck at climbing I have like no upper-body strength I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself infront of everyone.” I defended. He shook his head again trying to hold back a laugh.

“You’d never done it before. You had no idea if you were bad at it or not!”

“Okay, well… it was really high.” I pouted.

“My point exactly,” He chuckled.

“That means nothing!” I said. He groaned pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You wouldn’t even jump off the dock into the water that first summer! Because the water was deeper. You knew how to swim.” His shoulders were shaking with laughter. “You remember how I got you to do it?” He asked.

“Yeah you literally picked me up threw me in off the dock! I wound’t call that being “kind and encouraging.” I laughed emphasizing the last bit.

“It worked,” He smirked.

“It was traumatizing.” I countered.

“ I caught you blushing when I grabbed you, I think you liked it.” He winked. I glared at him crossing my arms.

“You have no proof,” I scoffed. He smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“You wanna test that theory?” He raised an eyebrow taking a step closer to me. My eyes went wide and I started to back up slowly.

“Logan,” I said softly. He looked me over that cocky grin plastered on his face.

“I’d start runnin’ if I was you.” He challenged. I backed up a little more, holding my hands up in defends.

“You don’t have to do this.” I reasoned with him. He let out a low chuckle.

“I think we both know I do.” He said. “Last chance darlin’” He teased. I turned on my heal quickly back toward the beach. Only getting in a few long strides before he had his arm around my waist. Damn his long legs. It doesn’t help that mine are so short either. I squealed as he lifted me off the ground in his arms.

“No! Logan please!”

“I warned ya, told you to start running sooner.” His voice was deep in my ear as he carried me to the end of the dock and I wrapped my arms around his neck for some sort of safety net. “Would you look at that.” He smirked, looking down at me in his arms. Bastard. Of course he was right. After all this time he still had the same effect on me.

“Oh shut up!” I rolled my eyes. Which was a bold move for someone in my current position.

“You’re blushin’, after all this time, I still get your heart racing.” He rasped.

“My face is red because I was running, and it’s ..it’s warm out here.” I argued.

“You took 3 steps, you weren’t running,” He smirked. “You’re just too stubborn to admit you still feel it.” He whispered against my ear. I felt hot. And it had nothing to do with the sun glaring down on us on the pier. It had been 7 years. Did we even know each other anymore? And…he ..he left. That hurt so bad. What if he leaves again. I don’t think I could handle losing him a second time. We’re in totally different parts of our lives than we were then. But at the same time… “Answer one thing for me, all this time, did you see anybody else? Let anyone else in? I don’t see a ring on your finger.” He raised an eyebrow looking down at me intently. I swallowed hard and swatted at his chest.

“Put me down Sy!” I whined. He jostled me in his arms threatening to drop me in the water.

“You want down?” He smirked. I squealed, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck.

“Logan, Don’t!” I chided. He chuckled, adjusting his grip under my thighs. He leaned in close. I could feel his breath against my ear, his beard tickling my skin.

“Tell me, I just wanna hear it. Did you wait for me?” He sounded like honey. The way his voice hummed in my ear. He always did. It had been so long since we’d stood this close, or been this close and I could feel myself still magnetized to him. It’s like he lit up every sense in my body. I had no choice but to follow his warmth and his chaos and his light. I never felt anything like it with anyone else.

“ Sy you know, I …” Before I could answer him he leaned forward and tossed me into the water. I screamed and heard him chuckle before I hit the water. It was still a little cold since summer had only just started. As I started to come back up to the surface I heard a huge splash a few feet away from me. Logan jumped off the dock with me. When he surfaced he swam closer and I splashed him. “You’re such an ass!” I rolled my eyes. He laughed, swimming toward the shore.

“I had to distract you. You thought I wasn’t gonna do it,” He smirked.

“Yeah I thought maybe you were like a decent guy now or something!” I scoffed.

“Aww come on honey, don’t be mad at me, you know it’s not really summer till we take our first swim.”

“Yeah I know,” I smiled.

We left the lake, soaking wet and headed back to our cabins to dry off. I couldn’t get what he’d said out of my head. I knew it was killing him to know. Why did he stop me? After drying off and changing into some dry clothes I hung my wet clothes and towel out on our cabin's little clothing line. I dug through my bag to find a new pair of shoes, because those were soaked too, and headed over to Logan’s cabin where he was waiting at the picnic table. I walked over and hopped up sitting on the table top. Something I’d made a habit of during my years at camp. And it followed me everywhere. I sit on my countertop all the time. He looked up from where he’d been writing in a notebook on the table and smiled.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“Now that my feet aren’t in squishy wet sneakers? Yeah much better, no thanks to you.” I laughed.

“Did you have fun?” He raised an eyebrow. I groaned.

“Yeah,” I muttered. He had a proud grin on his face.

“Well then you’re welcome.” He mused. I rolled my eyes and flickered my gaze down to his notebook.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked curiously. He leaned back looking down at the list one hand smoothing over his beard.

“Trying to remember all of the camp traditions. The games we played. Ice breakers things like that. Trying to set up a bit of a plan or a loose schedule before the kids get here tomorrow. I don’t know if the boys' cabins still do their prank war, but I’m bringing it back.” He said seriously.

“Ah yes, the infamous prank war, you were ruthless. But your cabin always came out victorious.” I giggled. His eyes met mine and he just smiled holding my gaze for a moment. I shook myself out of it before I could let him in too deep. “What else you got?” I prodded. He sighed. And his eyes went back to the paper in front of him, trying to hide the disappointment on his face.

“Uh, Just some of the group games we used to play, Red rover, capture the flag, the coed softball game. Shit like that.But I just wanna make sure we get everyone comfortable when they get here ya know? I always felt…”

“Safe? When we were here. Me too.” I nodded.

“Just wanna be sure everyone’s having a good time like we did. Whatever problems we were having back home, in our family, or friends, kids that were dealing with bullies, we left it behind. We didn’t tolerate anyone being left out. Just want that for our campers.” He said.

“You’re really passionate about this.” I added.

“Aren’t you, I mean, you loved this place as much as I did, … do.” He added. I nodded.

“Of course I am. I’m just really glad that you are too. I’m glad that my co-counselor is someone who loves and appreciates this place and the kids as much as I do!” I smiled. “I’ve got this book of icebreaker games. We can go through it after our counselor meeting. Find the ones we think are best fit.” I smiled. He nodded.

“Sounds great.”

Later that night after our meeting introducing and welcoming us all to camp and going over our rules and shifts, and after dinner we met in my cabin. We sat outside on the patio at the picnic table. We started flipping through the book and talking about each of the games. Some we had done when we were campers.

“Oh, here's a good one.” I said pointing to one of the pages. “Remember doing this one, ‘two truths and a lie’ we always had a lot of fun with that.

“I do! It was like being a cop trying to read a lie detector test. And trying to beat one. “He chuckled.

“You were good at it!” I laughed. “Like try me,” I nodded to him. He smiled, and cocked his head to the side thinking for a moment.

“Alright, I blew a tire going 90 down the highway last week. I shot my first gun when I was 10, or my brother broke my arm in a fist fight.”

“Jesus!” I laughed. “From the stories you told me about your brothers I wouldn’t doubt it. I know you like to drive fast but you take good care of your truck…I’m gonna say it’s the gun.” He shook his head.

“Nope, I broke his arm.” My eyes went wide and I tried to hold back my laughter.

“Your poor mother.” I giggled.

“She got used to it.” He smiled. “Your turn, see if you can fool me.” He said. I groaned. I never could trick him. He always knew. But maybe I could use this as an opportunity to answer his question back at the lake.

“Okay,” I nodded, “Uh, I have a short story published in a book. I..I’m still a virgin. I lost my phone on a cruise to Jamaica,” He looked at me quizzically, his bottom. Lip pulled between his teeth as his gears turned.

“There’s no way,” he finally spoke. “You’re not still a virgin. No way.” He added. I shook my head. My eyes met his.

“I’ve never been to Jamaica,” I said softly. He let out a shaky laugh.

“In seven years nobody.. Nobody’s tried?” He questioned.

“They’ve tried.” I said. “I tried.” I added. “I wanted to be over you. I tried to be mad at you, for leaving me. But I knew that was selfish. You didn’t leave me. Certainly not because you wanted to. You were fighting for me. For everyone you loved. I couldn’t be mad at you for that.” I admitted.

“I never intended to hurt you so bad. It hurt like hell leaving that summer.” He said.

“I know you didn’t,” I said. “When I went to college I tried so hard to put myself out there and meet other people, I went to a few parties. I made out on trashy frat couches. It was awful. I did go on a couple of dates. I convinced myself I had to. I was sure you’d moved on, found someone new. I liked them okay but it was nothing special. They weren’t… you.” I said. He nodded soaking in all the information I’d just given him.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. To know that you were still thinking of me as much as I was thinking of you. I have to be honest with you. I slept around in high school. When we broke things off that summer I was just trying to shake it. I hate to say it but, I barely remember their names. But you’re wrong about one thing. I never found anyone, never had one serious relationship after that last summer. You said it darlin, they weren’t you.” He rested his hand on my knee softly caressing my skin with his thumb. I never thought. I’d be here again. At camp. With him. In this position all over again. I think somehow we were getting a second chance. I’m not sure I’m ready for that. But I’m willing to see what the universe has put right in front of me.

“Sy, all I wanted back then was to be with you. To kiss you. For you to be my first. I don’t know if I’m still the girl you knew then. If you still want this after all this time. I don’t know what I want, I’ve spent so much time trying to forget you and what this felt like I don’t know if I know how to do this anymore.” He saw the panic in my eyes. And his face softened. He reached up tucking my hair behind my ear his fingers resting on the back of my head, gently massaging with his fingertips.

“This is a lot, I know, it’s a lot for me too. What I want is the woman you are now. For us to learn how to be now. If it aint the same spark then maybe it’s not meant to be. But i’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth and let you go again. Not without saying we tried to give this a shot.” He said his eyes boring into mine My heart felt like it was overflowing with emotion. I nodded. It was all I could do. “There is one thing, we never got to do that summer that I can’t get out of my head.” He whispered.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I never got to kiss you,” He stated almost breathless like it was a secret we’d been keeping for years. And a weight had now lifted off his shoulders.

“We never did, did we?” I blushed. He shook his head a gentle smile on his lips.

“It’s all can think about since I saw you again. That, and how you’re somehow even more beautiful.”

“Logan,” I blushed playfully shoving him.

“It’s true.” He said. I smiled.

“Well, are you gonna make a move or am I gonna have to make it for you?” Logan chuckled grabbing my waist to pull me closer and cupping my cheek. He leaned in his hot breath against my lips and…

“Hey you two!” Becca called from across the lawn. We jumped apart quickly. I could hear Logan groan no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “I just wanted to check in with you!” she said as she approached the cabin, “You settling in okay? Nervous about the kiddos or anything?” she asked. I shook my head.

“I’m a little nervous, not like I did much babysittin or anything,” Sy admitted. “But I’ve had plenty of practice with my brothers little rascals.” He laughed.

“Great!” She said. “Don’t be nervous, I’m so glad to have you guys back here, you’re our only counselrs this year that are camp alumni, and I always love having people that know the place well.” she smiled.

“It’s good to be back Becca! I never thought I’d see this place again!” I added.

“You know you’re always welcome!” She smiled. “Well I’ll leave you guys too it then, I’m so happy to see you two hear together again,” She winked. “Good night you two.”

“Well, she’s got impeccable timing.” Sy groaned. I giggled and squeezed his shoulder softly.

“This summers just getting started Sy,” I smiled. “I uh, better get some sleep, I was gonna get up early to decorate my cabin for the girls.” I said quickly. He nodded trying to hide his disappointment.

“Okay darlin’, I’ll see ya breakfast?” He asked. I nodded and turning and opening the door to my cabin

“I’ll see you then, goodnight Sy.”

“Goodnight Lainie,”

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Link for Ch3

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#henry cavill #captain syverson #fanfic writing #henry cavill smut #captain syverson x ofc #fanfiction #henry cavil x reader #captain syverson smut #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson imagine #captain sy x reader #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill imagine #august walker fanfiction #august walker #fanfiction writer #henry cavill characters

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rottenbrainstuff · 7 months

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BG3 playthrough: Astarion’s first sex scene, Raphael, Blighted village

(Spoilers, discussion of SA)

Astarion threw himself at me already: only Gale was faster. It’s all very sad how rehearsed it is. He specifically says he’s doing it because Tav deserves a reward. I know some people say they wished they had options to progress his romance without the sex in the first act, but the thing is, Tav doesn’t really understand yet what exactly is happening with him. I’ve heard some people also complain that his scene is fairly tame compared to some of the other companions and does a tasteful fade to black pretty quick: but guys, you wouldn’t want to see the rest, it’s not very good, Tav mentions in the morning that they noticed something was wrong.

Having sex with act 1 Astarion I imagine would be so oddly frustrating. I feel like his MO is to rile his partner up until they’re so ready to go that they take charge, and then he can just tune out for the rest of the evening while they do whatever they want with him. There would be odd moments of shrugging away from certain touches that are too intimate for him to stomach while he’s putting on his act; flinching away from gentle kisses on his neck, twisting away from soft touches to his ears, stuff like that. He would give his partner a bizarre feeling of simultaneously being pulled closer but also pushed away, leaving them wondering what the heck they were doing wrong.

After that I had a bunch of cutscenes all trigger one after the other: the bear bite, wanting to talk about Cazador, etc. Poor guy can’t shut up now. I wish the cutscene flow was managed a little better. I rest all the time, I had no cut scenes pending before that, then all of a sudden here’s a big dump. Inventory management is also a huge pain… I don’t even want to say how long I’ve spent just rearranging my shit.

I’m not sure exactly what triggers it, but it seems after a certain point, Raphael will appear when you go on certain areas of the map, even areas you’ve been before. I love Raphael, very dramatic, ten out of ten. I wasn’t sure exactly what was the best option to deal with Raphael but I think I made good choices. Love him. Don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, and my tav is weak and can’t throw shit. But I love him.

Then I went through the Blighted Village. It’s really neat playing as a drow, the goblins are all treating me like royalty and I can just walk right in to these camps and talk to them. The village was fun, I like the way the game tells a narrative through the papers and books that you find around town: the missing children poster, the journals noting bad things are happening, the way you learn more about what the innocent apothecary and his Dragonborn assistant are actually up to as you go deeper into the cellar. I wonder what exactly it was that blighted the village. The goblins came through for sure, but after a phase spider infestation, and a secret necromancer looking around for fresh materials, were the goblins the ones that ruined the village, or did they just provide the final shove that toppled down the house of cards?

I’m sure my drow character feels right at home running around through the tunnels, but UGH the giant spiders scared me so bad. They’re animated so realistically, they’re so huge, ugh ugh ugh.

Now that I have some cash, I don’t have to be pocketing every little thing I find that isn’t nailed down, so I can actually leave some of the incidental objects as the nice set dressing that it is. …. I mayyyyy also be arranging little items here and there like it’s an Animal Crossing island, hehe. I’ve got offerings laid out at Kanon’s grave, and a little memorial set up at Alfira’s blanket, and I’m setting up some cooking supplies at camp. Please tell me I’m not the only player that does this?

#bg3 #bg3 playthrough #baldur’s gate 3 #astarion #bg3 spoilers

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wormvill · 1 year

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January 3rd, 2023 (No update)

Sorry guys, I am away from the computer hosting the rom for my town :(

...I know, I know, I'm sorry Eunice. I still wanted to write a blog post, even if it isn't about my village. Keep reading for some Animal Crossing nerd rambles.

Today, I thought I'd post some facts about the starter villagers currently residing in my town. I don't know everything about them yet, and I'd like to study them and share the information with you. That way, we all can leave with a better understanding of who they are. Also, it'd be fun and give me an excuse to write a blog post.

All of the information is probably from the Animal Crossing Wiki, so thanks to the people over there. Also, most of the info is in relation to their versions from City Folk, as this blog is centered around my City Folk town.

We are going to start with...

1. Pippy

Pippy in English, or ロッタ in Japanese (meaning Lotta), is a peppy rabbit. Pippy, who is peppy!

She's been in the series since どうぶつの森 (Dōbutsu no Mori, or Animal Forest) so she's an OG! She was born June 14th, and her phrase is 'li'l hare.'

Some trivia from the wiki states that her birthday coincided with the European release of Animal Crossing: New Leaf, which I think is pretty cool.

Also, she wants to be a superhero! How cute :)

2. Bud

Bud in English or グラさん in Japanese (meaning Gura-san, or Gra) has been around since どうぶつの森＋(Dōbutsu no Mori+, or Animal Forest+). He was born August 8th, and his phrase (in City Folk) is "maaan."

He's a little lion guy, with the personality trait of a jock, whose appearance and catchphrase give that of a surfer dude. The interior of his house in City Folk (and several games) is even a beach.

I'm not personally that much of a surfer guy vibe, but he's been pretty nice to me so far, so I do not dislike him. Though, he does need to get rid of the goatee.

3. Rolf

"I could eat you for lunch, you know" - Rolf

Oh Rolf, what is there to say about Rolf? I think that quote says everything there is to say about him. Suffice to say, we have not gotten along very well (even for the two days I've known him.)

Rolf in English or チョモラン in Japanese (Chomoran), is a cranky tiger evil man who was born August 22nd, and has the very fitting catchphrase of "grrrolf." He's been haunting our worlds since どうぶつの森 (Dōbutsu no Mori, or Animal Forest).

This tiger man threatened to beat me up the first time I met him, so I very much do not like him. But hey, maybe (if he's nicer) I'll come around.

4. Tipper

Tipper in English or まきば in Japanese (Makiba) is a snooty cow. She was born on August 25th, and came around in Animal Crossing: Wild World. Her phrase is 'pushy.'

I shockingly do not know a lot about her. I'm not always a fan of snooty villagers, though so far she's been super nice and adorable to me in my town, I hope we get to know each other more. :)

5. Mitzi

Mitzi in English, or マール in Japanese (Māru) is a normal cat who's been around since どうぶつの森 (Dōbutsu no Mori, or Animal Forest).

When I say Mitzi is an OG, I mean she's an OG. She has been on the cover of Animal Crossing...

(She's in the window)

...she was in an icon for Pocket Camp...

...and was on a screenshot on the back of the City Folk case (which is in relation to the game we are playing!)

Mitzi is so much of an og, she even appears on the cover of K.K Parade, and is in the Animal Crossing themed track for Mario Kart 8 Deluxe.

Suffice it to say, Mitzi has been around the block, and I don't blame Nintendo! She seems to be a bit of a fan favorite. She's been really friendly to me, so I'm a bit of a fan too. :)

Some cool trivia, is that she was also the first girl villager. Amazing!

6. Walker

Walker in English or ベン in Japanese (Ben) is a lazy dog. He first appeared in どうぶつの森ｅ＋(Dōbutsu no Mori e+ or Animal Forest e+). His catchphrase is wuh.

Walker first appeared upon the release of どうぶつの森ｅ＋as an e-Card, which came with the game. Which is pretty cool.

His birthday is June 10th, and he has this really funny quote on his wiki page.

“The dog wags his tail, not for you, but for your bread.” - Walker

Those are all of my starter villagers. Hopefully, this infodump can replace the lack of update today. And, hopefully getting to know my starters can help me get to know them better (and maybe like them more...maybe not with Rolf.)

Thanks for reading, have a good night. :)

#animal crossing #ds #gamecube #nintendo #wii #animal crossing city folk #animal crossing diary

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lexiemoon321 · 1 year

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☀️A sunny Sunday means a stroll around Rosewood!☀️

Hey guys! I hope you all are having a wonderful day! I am so excited to work on Moon today because I am almost done with decorating the front of Nook's Cranny! Alongside that, I am also in the process of trying to find good editing software (for IOS or even just my laptop) that isn't terribly expensive. So if you know a good photo editing software that won't break the bank, PLEASE let me know!

Besides working on Moon today, I have ANOTHER character on Rosewood I want you guys to meet! He is still in the process but once I introduce you to him I will explain how he came up in my mind and how he has been not only a coping mechanism but a good way to clean out my storage in the game lol.

I am going to say that starting this blog has also helped me feel like I can write down my thoughts and express them through a game that I hold dear to my heart. To tell you the truth, I didn't have a Nintendo Switch console in March of 2020 when New Horizons first came out. The only way I have played any Animal Crossing before this time was on Mobile with Pocket Camp. I got my console on Christmas Eve and I started to play New Horizons on the 26th. Ever since then, I have never fully stopped. I need to get off for now but I will most definitely update you all on Moon! Until then, bye friends!

QOTD: What was the name of your first island when you started to play Animal Crossing New Horizons?

🍄Custom Codes🍄

Mushroom Apron: MO-4FB8-K96W-GW8V

Brick Path: MO-BLP4-4V4L-LSBM

NYX PM MBP Dark: MO-169Q-1DWT-KH2C

#animal crossing new horizons #animal crossing #acnh life #acnh inspo #acnhcommunity #acnh community #nintendo acnh #acnh photos #acnh #cozy gamer #cozy girl #cozy games

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doridoripawaa · 2 years

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"Gonna be suuuuper late tonight lolol take care of dinner without me!! >.o ~ ☆"

Saeran scowled as soon as he read the text message that had flickered across his phone screen. "Not that you ever help with dinner, anyway," he grumbled. Actually, he put a significant amount of effort into keeping his older brother out of the kitchen entirely. Nothing positive ever came out of Saeyoung's ventures into the kitchen, with the end result varying from broken plates to roaring flames to ramen smoothie.

Saeran preferred not to think about that last one.

At least this meant he would have a peaceful meal without his brother trying (and failing) to be his sous chef. With a sigh, the redhead began to tuck his phone into his pocket, until another quick beep caught his attention. Muttering some choice words under his breath, Saeran unlocked his phone screen again to check his messages.

"Pls feed Ariella too! We r out of bagels so she would be in trouble lol oop"

Oh. Shit. Her.

So much for a peaceful evening.

"👍"

Enough of a reply for Saeyoung to know he was alive and had received his texts. Saeran put his phone on the kitchen counter, not wanting to be bothered for a while if he had a say in the matter. As soon as he called his brother's dearest Ariella over to eat, he had no doubt she'd try to drag him into some sort of board game or arts & crafts, or she'd chuck 7 anime titles that somehow all had something to do with singing lesbians at him and ask him to pick one.

Come to think of it, though, he hadn't seen his sister-in-law in several hours. Had she gone out? No, she tended to stay home when Saeyoung was gone for long days like this. Much to Saeran's chagrin, neither of them liked to leave him alone in the bunker for too long. (A wise decision, but an irritating one nonetheless.)

That meant she had to be in one of the rooms. Saeran knew the brunette had a tendency to lose track of time when she was really engaged in something, so that would explain her silence. He'd caught her lying on the living room floor for two hours reading, lounging in Saeyoung's "office" chair at 3 AM playing games on her phone, studying Korean in the bathtub because she liked that it the room was secluded and didn't want anyone to make fun of her pronunciation, and at one point he'd caught her deep into researching tiny carnivores that were endangered. (Everything he had learned about the pygmy raccoon of Cozumel Island had been against his will.)

He couldn't even begin to guess where she was camped out right now.

But as Saeran looked at the clock and realized how late into the evening it was, he knew he would need to find her sooner rather than later to get her input on what to make for dinner. Much like his brother, Ariella was someone who should not be allowed in the kitchen unsupervised. If he didn't make her something, she'd try herself... and Saeran had no desire to clean up after her tonight.

"Ariella?" Saeran called out tentatively. His summons was met with silence. Barely stifling a resigned sigh, he tried again. "Ariella? What do you want for dinner?" Again, nothing.

Annoyed, he ran his hands through his crimson locks, knowing that he was about to begin a scavenger hunt for his ditzy sister-in-law. "Sometimes I think the cult was easier than this," he hissed as he headed over to the laundry room, beginning his search.

But she wasn't in the laundry room nor the living room, and she wasn't in Saeyoung's office or in the guest room they'd set aside for Vanderwood. She wasn't in the home library, and she hadn't found her way to the kitchen while Saeran was checking the other rooms.

Saeran narrowed his minty eyes and finally let out a sigh of defeat. "I hate going in here," he mumbled as he walked up to Saeyoung's bedroom door. But what choice did he have? It would explain her lack of response; Saeyoung's room was practically soundproof, and he'd designed it that way. Crossing that barrier into his brother's quarters was... unsettling for Saeran, though. Saeyoung certainly had no problem barging in on him, but Saeran found himself disconcerted in his brother's room. He saw a lot of the brother he knew, but also a lot about the brother he didn't know.

Reconciling his past and his present when it came to Saeyoung was always a messy ordeal, and Saeran preferred not to confront it unless he absolutely needed to do so.

His hand was shaking as he opened the door.

"Ariella?" Saeran called out her name as soon as he cracked the door open, wanting to get out of this space as soon as possible. He smacked his still quivering hand before stepping in further. "How about sweet potato noodles tonight?" If he could just pry an answer out of her regarding dinner, he could head out and feel satisfied that he'd carried out his obligations to Saeyoung.

But he didn't hear so much as a simple "yes" or "no."

Every step he went deeper inside made him more uncomfortable, but he had to check all corners before he gave up. She wasn't in the bedroom, and she wasn't in either her closet or Saeyoung's.

"Where the hell...?" The younger twin was on the verge of letting out a cry of frustration, as his efforts began to feel more and more like a wild goose chase. As he put his hand on the bathroom door handle, he felt his irritation simmering and threatening to boil over. "Ari--"

All of that energy transformed from annoyance to horror as he saw his sister-in-law curled up on a rug on the bathroom floor.

"Ariella?!" Hastily he scrambled over, dropping to his knees beside her. "Ariella?" He could see the slow rise and fall of her abdomen, so she was breathing, but why was she curled up in fetal position? "Hey, what happened? Did someone break in? Was it..." Looking around the room, he didn't see any signs of damage that suggested someone had broken their way in. Plus, he had been here all day, so if someone had come in by force, wouldn't he have heard them? What was wrong, then? He tried to see if he could find any clues, but the bathroom was practically spotless, with the exception of some water droplets in the sink and a few items in the trashcan. Just a couple of bandage wrappers, as far as he could--

The panicked heat in his body melted away as soon as he saw the cold glint of steel that twinkled at him mockingly.

"Elle..." His voice suddenly grew eerily calm. "Elle," he repeated, using the nickname once again. A name that only he ever used for her-- she'd forced him to watch Legally Blonde, but afterwards he'd found himself calling her this name from time to time. A name that he had chosen, not one borrowed from Saeyoung. A small flame of friendship, from the one person who tried to spend time with him for no other reason than out of the kindness of her heart.

Pink. Peppy. Positive.

Why was his Elle in so much pain right now?

His thoughts snapped back to the present as he heard a soft sniffling from below. Quickly Saeran turned his attention back to Ariella, who had tilted her head back so she could look at him.

He didn't get a chance to ask any questions before she whimpered and lowered her head again. Upon closer inspection, he saw that she was cradling her wrist, too, and holding that against her chest.

"Hey, Elle. We can't make it better if you don't tell me what happened."

"I... my... sorry...."

"Louder."

"Broke... sorry... fault...."

"Lift your head."

He probably sounded cold, with how tersely he was speaking to her right now. But he didn't care if she thought he was rude, or cruel, or just a complete jerk. His priority was helping her.

"I broke... promise... I'm..."

"What promise? Come on, Ariella."

"I promised him... Never again...."

Again?

So this wasn't the first time.

A heavy silence hung in the air for a moment. It was dense and sticky, and if he didn't know any better, he'd say it reeked of blood.

He smelled blood all the time, and he was used to seeing it on his hands, but he never thought he'd see them splatter fingers as soft and smart and sweet as hers.

Saeran knew Ariella was the type who didn't actively go out trying to hurt others. He could tell from the way she quarreled with Saeyoung about his not-so-legal activities that she was someone who tried to live a just, honest life. She deserved better than to get caught up with people like them, but that was Saeran's fault, wasn't it?

Did he have Ariella's fresh blood on his hands, too?

"Listen." He leaned over until his forehead was almost touching hers. "I don't know what promise you made or why you broke it. But I know you're someone who tries to be true to her word, so you must have had a reason." He wasn't good at comfort. He wasn't sure if what he was saying would make things better or worse for her. "You have to fail sometimes. That's how you get better." He leaned back and began to rise to his feet. "And I know you're a perfectionist, so I know you're gonna take this loss and use it to get better. Because you're strong like that, Elle."

He didn't wait to see if she was getting up before he turned towards the bathroom door. "I'm going to the kitchen. If you can meet me there in 10 minutes, you can decide what we eat. Saeyoung is going to be late tonight, after all. So...

"Wash up really well. I'll see you in a few."

She never did tell him why or how he'd found her like that. She didn't tell him how long she'd been lying there before he found her, either.

But she did tell him to use extra orange zest and to cut back on the garlic, and he knew she didn't like her dinners to be super sweet.

Saeran, however, loved orange zest and wasn't a fan of garlic, and so he accepted her gratitude in the form of a steaming bowl of japchae.

#dl #tw self harm

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caeridus · 4 years

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steward of gondor? i think you mean steward of gonorrhea

#lotr #im so sorry #this came to me when i was playing animal crossing: pocket camp #dark academia #lord of the rings #boromir #faramir #aragorn #estel #legolas #bookblr #fantasy #hobbit

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totscircus · 3 years

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baby arcade!!

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

free games for tiny tots!!

{ both are ios and android compatible!! }

old friends: i am obsessed with this game!! you take care of a bunch of senior dogs and follow a story line based on a true story!! its such a sweet game!! >u<

dear my cat: the graphics in this game are uncanny! theyre mind blowing! and its such a cute game, you make a paradise for them after they passed its a really good and easy game!!

bunnybuns: bunny b a k e r thats all i gotta say- you make baked goodies for your customers and play little mini games while napping!!

raccoopy: PLEASE this game is just absolutely adorable! you have a little raccoon that is sneaky and swipes some goodies from people and makes copies of it so they dont notice >:3 and we can decorate our lil space with the items!! together we can be sneaky lil coons heh *cough* but dont steal in real life stealins bAd

sky:children of the light: now this game is absolutely stunning its not too difficult you basically just go on a journey and free a bunch of spirits while helpin other players out a long the way and maybe even becoming friends with them!! ^^

disney wonderfulworlds: if you LOVE disney as much as i do you'll love this game!! take homescapes and make it ✨disney✨ you can collect different characters and make the different parks based off of them!! ><

kitty cat resort: this ones a little similar to dear my cat the graphics are just as beautiful too!! but its a different style and you can craft them toys!! YOU CAN DRESS THEM UP TOO!!! this game is just overall so adorable^^

the dogs collector: AHHH this one got me hooked the first hour into playing it!! its like a little hotel for dogs :(( you just feed them n decorate the space with the items you collect all while collecting new and rare breeds of dogs!! and theres mini games you can play to help gain money!! ><

the cats collector: this ones like the dogs collector just with cats!! this is the first one that came out so its an older version but so so cute non the less!! and this one has even more mini games!!

tsuki adventure: this game is so so peaceful and relaxing!! its a story based game that follows our little friend tsuki living his new free life in the countryside and meet a whole bunch of animals!! this game is filled with mini games too!! its just overall an amazing game!

tsuki's odyssey: this one follows the same little bun but instead of exploring the countryside you get to decorate it and make it look the way you'd like!! its super cute and it just makes me so happy!!

animal crossing pocket camp: i love love LOVE animal crossing so anywhere i can see those cute lil villagers and decorate is a game for me!! >:3

sumikko farm: i have been obsessed with these little characters for what feels like forever!! they make me so nostalgic!! so getting to build a little farm with them and dress them up makes me so so happy :'))

sailor cats: sail the seas with your furry friend!! help them find some mates to sail with as well as rare costumes to change them in!! their cute little faces will melt your heart!! this game just makes me so happy whats not to like? cats f i s h i n g, dressed up in little costumes, and collecting wood and cute little surprises!! so heccin cute!! >u< this one does have a little more ads then the other games but not too overwhelming!!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

and there you have it some really cute baby games for when you need some secret baby time or just wanna get your mind off of some things!! let me know what games you liked!! ^^

#age regression #age regression community #age regressor #agere #agere blog #agere community #agere textpost #cglre #sfw cglre #babyre

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insomniac-dot-ink · 3 years

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Headlights Girl

Genre: Urban fantasy + wlw romance

Words: approx. 8k

Summary: The story of a girl with headlamps for eyes and the moth-girl she meets along the way.

My book 🌸 Ko-fi 🌸 Patreon

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

Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the dunes, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they each shrank away deep into nooks and crannies of their cages. Most things do when I look at them.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There were even stranger kids born in the Age of Spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy who could breath fire. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father called it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He didn’t look at me much growing up. And I knew what he meant. I knew what he was getting at by calling it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or a left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names, gone more often than not.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. She’d wail, just a bit, and then find a new thing to wail over. They could barely afford to send me to That School. They could barely afford the special doctor’s appointments for my eyes. They barely knew what to do with me.

Sometimes, I wanted to shout right back: It’s not like I didn’t want to be here either!

But she wasn’t talking to me.

School wasn’t much better. We weren’t the same, not really. None of us were the same age or had the same affliction. Plus, most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or I had a pig-nose or unibrow. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he ran away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I was 16 when I heel-toed my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with loose clothes, change, a bath towel, three books with broken spines, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he was at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at the mart and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There was a beer in front of his idle hands and he still wore his rumpled work shirt. He glanced at the bag on my shoulder for a long minute.

Finally, he sighed like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafed through a wad of cash he kept in a safe. He handed me almost three hundred bucks and we nodded at each other. At the time, I thought there was a kind of satisfaction to that nod, an endnote.

I was out the door before the midnight bus arrived.

Only three people were at the terminal. None of them looked at me with my pack and my knife stuffed in one hand and my eyes glowing. They did look at the glow, but not for long.

Remote and empty like maybe the world had ended and the last bits of if were nothing but strangers not making eye contact.

Finally, I watched the headlights of the midnight bus approach through dense summer night. I was struck by the thought that it was like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I got on the bus and kicked my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, crossed my arms over my chest, and watched the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet moved like tides. They tossed me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I stumbled into the painted deserts toward the west. I dipped my toes into the neon districts of the east with lights brighter than my own. I slept on benches and in kid’s treehouses and hunched my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touched me. Maybe they’d approach now and then, but I’d open my eyes and they’d see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that would smite them. I was the daughter of spirits after all.

I found my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gathered and it was easy to stretch out on empty pieces of warm sand. I didn’t talk much by then, I didn’t like to; people stared whether I was speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it ached. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’d never seen a movie in any theatres, but I could imagine what it’s like.

It was crowded, but I liked that ocean city, despite myself. It had pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding sidewalks where cars couldn’t fit, reckless bikers, and crushed seashell parking lots. I liked the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkled from the ocean water as it sun-dried. I camp out on beaches and bummed cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I was good at taking care of myself once I got into a rhythm.

I had a tent by then and even an enormous sun umbrella to keep any prying eyes away. I still liked to sleep under the stars most nights though.

I often dreamed of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dreamed of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I’d be weighted down through the cold and the silence to where no human being had ever been. I’d open my eyes there, open them all the way, lightning-bright, and unflinching. In my dreams, the salt didn’t even sting. I lit up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I’d do something good then. Maybe I’d do something good and bring the sun to places that had forgotten it.

I hated those dreams.

I met Mags on the beach after one of those dreams. Mags had one eye and twelve teeth and carried around nothing but string and scissors everywhere. She smelled like seawater and burning kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes were neat despite her leather-cracked skin and arms and neck covered in tattoos of shipwrecks. We ran into each other at some bum gathering and she cackled and pulled me aside.

“What’s your name?” Her voice was old creaking wood. I didn’t answer. “I could give you one.” She offered with a grin that was more empty space than anything.

“Nana.” I gritted out. “You want something?”

“Not sure. What do you want, kid?”

I glared openly, my beam of light slanting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come here.”

I didn’t know why I was chosen.

Mags liked me more than I deserved. I pocketed her last pair of socks when she wasn’t looking. She never mentioned it and dragged me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She took me to the soup and salad restaurant for something that wasn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackled, she spat when she talked, people shot her looks as well.

I thought she was normal, not touched by the spirits, but she liked me more than most people and I didn’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snorted. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snapped back.

“Lippy squirt. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heated the needle before she used it, red hot and untouchable. She dipped it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she called them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin and clean it. She showed me how to slowly, painstakingly etch images. I wasn’t sure I liked it, there was something so permanent and intentional about the act.

I watched her lessons though: stick and poke to her right foot, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It took her six hours to make a tiny shipwreck right above her big toe. It was a narrow schooner going under and I was the only witness. She made the waves come to life and crash against its sides and sometimes I forgot to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washed another needle. She heated it red-hot. She dipped it in ink and handed it to me.

I still wasn’t sure I liked the permanence of it, but I told myself I was bored and it was something to do. I decided quickly I did like the bite of it, I liked the focus it took, and the ability to pull something from nothing.

I practiced all over my thighs first, there was enough meat there and it was easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looked like nothing but squiggles, a TV set playing static, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practiced designs in the sand and then on paper when Mags splurged on pen and paper.

Mags took me to the museum on Sundays. They were always free on Sundays.

Something stirred in my chest, even as the guards yelled at us about how flash photography wasn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I was shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rotted roared to life in my chest.

I stabbed in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake on my wrist, and then finally, something good, something that gave people pause and reason to stare. I made it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and yet simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than any of the others.

That was a good year or so; one of the best I could remember.

I didn’t want to leave the ocean city though and Mags said she had to keep moving. She had places to be. She gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackled. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winked as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I wanted to make her pinky-promise like I was a kid again begging one of the others to tell me if I’m beautiful when I close my eyes. I couldn’t do that; I waved as she tottered up the steps of the bus and was taken away with the tides of her own feet.

A had a moment of thinking it was the end then; I was ready to get back to my real normal. I was ready to disappear again. But even shipwrecks with no witnesses leave things left to be found.

------------ I got an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked them into it and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but couch surfing and camping out was the pastime of the especially young. And I’d lost my giant umbrella.

It was a small shop that smelled like bleach and dried flowers. A tattoo parlor in one of the steep arts districts neighbored by food trucks and beaded necklace shops.

Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie ran it together. Davies walked like he’d never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie had a throw-pillow embroidered with “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies was covered in nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie had topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’d been asked to leave a number of stores before the children started staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me. It was not that type of town. I rankled at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. Where are you from? What’s your family name? What kind of school did you go to? Is your sight better than other people you think?

I brushed off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie called me “Shadow” probably as a joke, probably. Davies said I must be possessed by the ghost of some dead star: a blackhole that takes everything in and lets nothing out.

Neither of them let me touch a needle in those first six months. They had me practice on pig skin and trace designs and stand by their shoulders as they worked. I felt like a dental assistant except I was the hanging light shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stood at their shoulder as they drew thick lines and thin dots and made hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They asked me to stand still and stop wiggling the light. I almost walked out several to find a new cliff to crash against, almost.

No one had ever expected anything of me before. They never expected me to show up somewhere or do something well. No one really cared if I went to school or if I did my homework, if I dressed well or went to bed on time. And no one kept any tabs on me at all after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, tattooing didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow,” she barked. She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I was eloquent in the mornings.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want that desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

“Are you serious?”

“Serious as a root canal. Mags swore up and down about what you. Let’s see some of that, up, up!”

I grumbled. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before and 9am shouldn’t have even been a concept much less a real thing. I told myself I hated it. I’d leave the next week. Or maybe the week after that or in just one more month. I kept a bus ticket under my pillow but every time the date arrived I shrugged and made myself busy.

There’d be no harm in having a savings too and seeing what all the fuss was about with having a dishwasher and a kitchen.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with me, my eyes. I didn’t let up though. I put on pants for it after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder when I made my first real design.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. It was hard to tell. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a painful surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “That line was barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” I challenged. He chuckled darkly. His grin was crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.”

“It’s late.” The rest of the street was dark. I knew that.

“I said I’m not done yet! You can go home.”

“Hmm.” He scratched his grey beard.

“What?”

“Look at you. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun after that. I told myself I’d only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I didn’t have to actually stay. I’d just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chased after girls with eyes that glow.

I didn’t break my lease. I drew suns and moons, trees and fireflies, hunks in speedos on tipsy college girls who swore they were sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I had to give two refunds for a duck that turned out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with perfectly white piano-key teeth. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I was best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It was dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hid my smile when I finished and showed her the results in the mirror. She went to my bosses and jumped up and down. She pointed and babbled, ohmyspirits, the best thing I’ve ever seen! Fuck. I should pay you double! Where did you get this girl?

I held myself perfectly still and studied the ceiling until my eyes dried out.

I took the long way home that night. I stopped once, at the corner where the midnight bus arrived, and watched the the passengers trudge off. I didn’t expect to see Mags again so soon, not really, but sometimes I wanted to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

---------------- “I’m getting you chocolate.” Annie spat, her thick arms flexing as she cleaned off the spotless counter. “I’m getting you fucking chocolate, Shadow, ‘less you tell me what flavor you actually like.”

I hung at the back of the shop next to the narrow window that faced the road. I let the sun warm my face in thick strips and watched the bicycles pass. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Tell us what your actual birthday is then, you sugar-toasted tart.”

I shrugged. “Not today.”

“Well happy fucking birthday. You’re turning two. You came to work for us two years ago today, washed up from the beach like a deranged feral cat, so this is your birthday now.”

I rolled my eyes which served to look like a flashlight given a shake. Annie spent another minute splashing disinfectant on anything that might have had even a passing conversation with a germ.

“You talk to Birdie?” She asked, but mischievously this time. I responded by setting my mouth in a hard line. “You’re turning twenty-something and you’re not even talking to Birdie, are ya?”

“I’m not telling you what I’m turning. It’s still not my birthday.” I dodged inelegantly.

“Birdie will give you a proper go-around. Even shadows like you must need a little rub now and then.”

“Go dunk your head, Annie.” I huffed.

“Afraid you’ll blind her in bed?”

I turned with a snarl. “I’ll start with you.”

“I’ve seen you flipping through those poetry books, every word about hands or mouths or rosebuds.” She gave me flat a once-over. “You’ve got a sweet tooth in you.”

I dragged myself over to the desk to snarl at her some more, but Annie was already putting her hand up and going toward the backroom.

“I’m getting you a chocolate cake either way.”

There must have been a proper way to get her to never look at my little leather poetry books again, the ones with watermarked pages, the spines broken-in, and words that oozed. No one had to know that I could read, much less that I read that.

The door dinged instead.

“Excuse me.” She walked in. Her. “Is someone, um, named Nana here?” I turned before I could stop myself. That was still my name. And it was still my work.

Twenty-something, curtains of straight black hair falling in her face, pinched nose, thin energetic lips, shorts that gave way to milk-dipped legs that never seemed to end. A slight girl in a university t-shirt. College kids came in often during their breaks, but this one was a bit different. My eyes dragged up and fish-hooked there.

Feathered tendrils sprouted from her head and reached toward the ceiling. Long and searching, a pearly green color that reminded you of leaves or plumage.

I knew within a moment where I’d heard of this: Antennae Girl. The newspapers ran our stories close together along with the boy that breathed fire and the girl with roots growing from her head. We were all born in the same year during the epoch of monsters and bastards.

I think she recognized me too.

We stopped like heartbeats seizing up before the ambulance could make it. A confused, unnatural silence. I glanced at the door and considered making a run for it.

She cleared her throat first.

“Someone said that Misty’s butterfly tattoo came from here?” She blinked once and I noticed how her feathered antennae seemed to twitch. I averted my eyes so I wouldn’t blind her. She took a step forward. “So are you . . . Nana?”

The door was right there.

“What do you want?” I had been spending too much time with Bitch-Annie.

“A tattoo?”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then why are you here?” I grunted. Footsteps came in from the back room. I was examining the smudged off-white tiles of the floor one by one.

“I wanted to . . . hey, you can look up if you want.” She said, curiously, softly. I didn’t look up. “I’m still figuring out the design.” She trudged on ahead.

“Fine.” I pivoted away. “But we’re busy. Come back later.”

A hand slapped across my shoulder. “This is Nana.” Annie stopped me from leaving. “Don’t let her eyes fool ya, it’s her personality that’s actually the problem. You saw her butterfly you said?”

“Yes!” She gushed. “It was gorgeous.”

“It was fine,” I corrected.

“It’s her birthday today.” Annie shared because she could and because she was a failed evil villain still trying to get her kicks in.

“Oh cool, happy Birthday.” A deep pause followed that could fill oceans. “You can look up. I don’t mind.” She repeated.

I opened my eyes wide and lifted my chin in one jerky motion. A beam of fluorescent headlights hit her across the face. “Is this what you want?” Venom dripped from my lips. This was why I tried not to talk too much.

The young woman squinted for a moment before covering her eyes and nodding. “I read about you,” she stated as if it was nothing. “I’m turning twenty-two this year . . . so I guess, you are too?”

“What?!” Delight filled Annie’s entire expression. “Hot damn! Twenty-two?” I groaned deeply. “Hey, you, girlie,” she addressed antennae-girl, “you want to come out for drinks tonight?”

I tried to protest as quickly as possible, but somehow didn’t summon the words quickly enough.

“Sure.” She agreed. ----------------------

The night was humid and clung to us like a second skin. I wandered through the hilly streets with Penguin Davies wobbling beside me. The desk kid—Daft Jeff, said Davies had some inner-ear problem that made it hard for him to keep his balance. Annie said he just didn’t belong on land— he couldn’t walk straight unless something was tilting and rolling under his feet.

Davies made his way up the hill, faltering and missing the musical beats of it. He refused to let me steady him and I refused to have him sing to me. It was apparently my birthday.

“Someone saw your design.” He noted on the downhill.

“Yeah. Some college girl.” I grumbled.

“What’d you think?” He asked in his usual mysterious way.

“She just wants a good look.” I returned in a neutral tone. “She read about me in the paper. All she wants to do is look.”

“She saw your design.” He paused. “And Jeff said she was like you.”

I blinked hard so the path ahead was eaten by shadow and Davies stumbled. “Not all of us have to be friends . . .” I said sourly and didn’t fill in the rest. “I’ve met kids with antlers and frog-hands before. I doesn’t mean anything.”

“Any of them come visit?”

“They’re smart enough not to.” I snark. “But the ones who manage to be pretty don’t have the brains to stay away.”

“Mm.” He made a soft sound. “What kind of tattoo do you think she’ll get?”

“How should I know? A heart or anchor or something dumb like that.” I walked on ahead. “Maybe I’ll give her a quote from some dead poet.”

“You like poetry.”

I huff dramatically, “Not what I mean. Girls like her don’t like my type of poetry, you know I’m saying.”

“What kind of girls?” Davies was patient. I hated that about him.

I stopped at the corner to let him catch up. “Don’t play dumb. Hot ones, college ones, getting a degree in money or music. They don’t watch over their shoulders enough or know when to stay away.” I scuffed my shoe on the ground. “Whatever.”

Davies was still thinking. I considered pushing him over. He finally spoke up again as we approach the bar, “That sea witch ever show up again?”

“Mags?” I snorted. “No. Why?”

“Cause I’m sure she’d like to see this.”

I didn’t say anything else as we reached the doorway. -------------------- The bar was loud. More people than I liked came to my “party.” I should have seen it coming. If the cliff city liked one thing it was an excuse to drink.

I crammed myself up against the bar and ordered a gin and tonic before the rest of the night crowd could arrive. Birdy was holding court at a corner table and waving at me. “There she is! Someone put a blanket over Nana, lights out, party up!”

Her puns usually left something to be desired. She sang “Blinded by the Light” every time she saw me for half a year.

I drank half my gin and tonic in the first gulp as a new stream of townies burst in. They arrived to buy me birthday beers and shout their opinions on the shitty new chain restaurant on 3rd street. I was almost tasting the bottom of my second glass when someone tapped on my shoulder.

I barely looked over.

The girl with sheets of black hair and a practiced-appearance stood before me—like she was at dress rehearsal and expected everyone else to know the lines as well. She carried a baby-blue bike helmet in one hand, and I noted there were two hand-drilled holes in the top.

“You.” I was tempted to shake her hand like I might make this a transactional hello and goodbye in short order.

“Hey.” She smiled, hesitant, like maybe the food on the fork might be too hot. “Nana, right?”

“Yep.” I sighed the word real long and heavy. “Listen, I really can’t give you a tattoo if you don’t know what you want.”

“No, no, I get it. But I want you to know . . . I didn’t know it was you.”

“Uh, okay. Though I’m pretty hard to miss over here.” I was looking at the dirty wine bottles stacked near the ceiling. Her antennae hang over both of us like fern fronds.

“No. I mean, when I saw the butterfly. That’s when I wanted to come here. Not after.”

“After what?” I was gonna make her say it.

“After I found that it was, well, you know, Headlights Girl.”

“Mm.” I was spending too much time with Davies. “You want something to drink?”

She sighed as well, real long and heavy. “Sure.” She took the seat next to me. “I’m Park by the way.”

“Park.” I rolled the name around in my mouth. “And you already know me.”

“I don’t think I do.” She laughed, sharp and bristly like something you can get cut on. “And I’ll have a beer. . . but only once you look up. Come on, I’m not like that.” I looked up. Her face was bright, round like the moon, her grin was sneaky and unearned. “There we go.”

She waved over the bartender Kipp and ordered her dark beer.

“It’s not really my birthday.” I informed her, dumbly. Every word felt dumb and clumsy all at once.

“Why not?” She was teasing. I knew that.

“That’s not how birthdays work.” I informed and wished I could backtrack into hostility again.

“Oh darn,” she winked. “And here I was about to make it my birthday too.”

“Uh, well,” I really should have left when I had the chance. “It’s not too late?”

“That’s the spirit!” She laughed, fuller this time and rounded. I looked her straight in the face and then quickly looked away again. Her grin was aimed at me, somehow, and seemed to reach high cupboards inside me you usually needed a stool for.

“Park,” I repeated the name and shifted in place. “So did you go to Haveryards or Simmons?” There were only two schools in the country for spirit bastards like us. Haveryards was close enough for me to get bussed to—an hour one way and then an hour home.

“Neither. I went to public and then Bakerville Uni.” She rapped on the counter. “Hey, you want another gin and tonic? Or I’ll mix you up something.” Her eyes flickered over everything. “I bartended my way through college so I can make a mean margarita.”

“Oh, Bakerville U., yeah. That ones close.” I stuttered a bit. She was leaning across the counter and trying to get Kipp’s attention a second time. My words were feeling dumber and dumber by the moment, perhaps losing all shape and meaning altogether. “That’s where you went?”

“How’d you guess?” She said playfully and pointed to her t-shirt. She finally got the bartender over. “Right, you want something hard? Vodka maybe? A mule?”

I scratched my chin. “ . . . I don’t care. I’m easy.”

She rolled her eyes and I knew she must feel me staring. “I can’t imagine shopping for you for today then.” She snickered and climbed over the counter. “Happy birthday, how about one chocolate mule for a free tattoo?”

“You wish.” I made a face. “You don’t even know what you want.”

“And you do?” She was still grinning, somehow. “I’ve decided I’m making you the equivalent of all the soda flavors mixed together at once. Close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes and I tried to turn off my thoughts. It was bright as knives inside my skull; I carry the daytime with me. Panic threatened to rise up (for no reason of course), but a soft hand brushed against mine, soft like sheets in fancy hotels and flower petals. I peaked and Park slid a full murky glass toward me.

“Drink up.”

It was sweet. It wasn’t even my birthday. I didn’t care. She called it a chocolate-mule-Park Special and maybe chocolate really was my favorite flavor. -------------- Park started coming around. She rode a sky-blue bike with a white basket and rusting hinges. I couldn’t imagine doing all the hills in the city without any gears, but she managed. She said she was figuring things out after graduating. She said she liked it here.

I grumbled when she came by. I complained like Annie when Wicker the cat visited: Get that thing away from me. I hate that. Smells awful. I’ve got allergies. Put that away, it’ll kill me.

I never said anything when Annie left fish heads out and bowls of milk of course.

Park smelled like sunscreen and breath mints. She had strong opinions on everything from street paving techniques to which sun hats went with which dresses. She invited me on walks. She invited me to help her change a flat tire. She invited me to the corner shop to help her pick out bottle can openers.

I said no. Sometimes I said no. I started to say yes.

“Look at this,” she liked to show me things. She liked to show me pictures of squirrels on her phone and weird pieces of glass she found. She liked to point out new restaurants (that I’d already been to) and play videos of funny traffic jams.

This time she held up a seashell. It was rounded and flat with a swirl in the center.

“I’m looking.” I said carefully.

“Watch how it catches light.” I shun my eyes on it and she moved it back and forth. There were bits of silver veins caught in the cracks of it.

“There’s tons of those.” At this point, I had valiantly refused to be impressed by even her cutest squirrel pictures.

“Ugh.” She pouted. “Are you kidding? I spent all morning looking for this.”

“They're right by the surf. I could find you five bigger ones than this before sunset.”

“Alright, hot-shot.” She jut her chin out and jabbed my shoulder. “Prove it.”

I said yes to that one. I left right after my shift ended with the sun setting in the waters like a stabbed orange bleeding out. I met Park by the parking lot with drooping palms trees lining the sides and lost flipflops everywhere.

“This is where you went wrong.” I announced. I couldn’t help it. “This is the tourist beach. You have to go somewhere real.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve already established you’re the hot-shot here. Lead the way.”

She followed me. I ignored how she lingered by my side. I ignored how her hand wrapped around my arm as she stopped us to look at a tiny horseshoe crab. Her hand was soft, like velvet, soft enough to smother something in my chest.

I found two seashells with streaks of silver and rainbow through them, both bigger than my palm. The sun was a flat line on the horizon before I could find a third and Park hooted.

“You said before sunset! It’s sunset, baby, pay up.” She called. “And you were so sure you were a better seashell hunter than me.” She tsked.

I scanned the ground more quickly. “It’s barely nighttime.” I pointed to the sky. “And I can keep looking. I have the built-in equipment for it.”

“Oh I know.” She planted herself on the soggy crusted sand and sat down in a heap. “But can you find why kids love the taste of not doing that? Take it easy. Take a seat.”

“So pushy.”

“You know me.” It was fond. It had only been a few months, but there was something fond there.

I ran a hand through my short choppy curls. “Fine.” I sat next to her, not too close. “It’s your loss.” We both looked out at the gently lapping waves, foaming and anemic. She let a long breath of air and for a moment I considered brushing her hair back. It was always in her face.

It was a quiet moment, bottled, and pitching toward something. Like the the moment where you miss a step on the stairs and the certainty of the fall was right there.

I was the one that scooted a little closer.

“I’m considering getting a storm cloud,” she commented off-handedly. “Can you do storm clouds?”

I made a sound of consideration. “Sure.” I glanced toward the opposite corner of the night sky. “I think I’ve seen one of those before. Big puffy wet things?”

“Kinda fluffy? You’re getting there.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I’m smiling, which is alright since there’s no way she could see it. She’s silent for another moment longer.

“Or would you make fun of me if I got something like a butterfly? Like your other one.”

“A storm cloud butterfly?”

“No. The cloud would it’s own thing.” She chewed on her bottom lip, ragged and chapped. “I mean, I’ve been doodling some ideas. And tattoos should be personal, right? So I thought a storm cloud might be fitting. Kids used to pay me a couple dollars to predict the weather. It could be a memorial to childhood entrepreneurial spirit.”

I watched her speak and something beat inside my chest like a second animal. I wanted to be closer. I wanted to feel velvet again.

“Why?” I rasped after a moment.

“Uh, why did they pay me? It’s just something I can do. Whenever it's going to rain or storm or be sunny out. I dunno, I don’t know why the rest of you can’t sense it.”

“And you didn’t become a meteorologist?” I smiled a bit bitterly.

She made an indignant noise. “And you didn’t become a professional lighthouse?”

I choked on a laugh. “Not yet.” A quiet consumed us from both sides, I made sure my light didn’t crash into her. I made sure to look at anything but her. She’d have to squint if I did and cover her eyes and I’d be there, ready to run her over.

“Kids in my class paid me too.” I barely realized I started speaking. “They slipped me a couple bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face.”

“You got money for that?”

“There wasn’t always much to do. Teachers were quitting all the time and sometimes it was just the TV. I dunno, they paid me. Then they’d giggle and run away afterward.” My voice sounded automated like the announcer at an airport, informing travelers their flight was canceled. “They always said I had a pig nose or a unibrow or looked like the lead singer of that Minx girl band-- super hot, but you know, it didn’t matter.” The laugh that escaped was high, girlish in a grotesque way. “Since, you know, no one would ever see it.”

“Kids are fucked up.” Park contributed simply.

“Adults are too.” I sniffed. “Everyone wants a light show.”

“Oh.” She said slowly. “Is it . . . is it bad I wanted to meet you then? I mean, I wanted to see the art first, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor.”

“No.” I said quickly. I lit up my own lap and empty hands. “Does it matter?”

“I never went to those schools,” she said hesitantly. “My parents fought them, said the schools were unfit. They shouldn’t be able to force us there. And that I wasn’t even dangerous since,” she gestured helplessly upward, “I just have these. So then, well, I never really met anyone else like me.”

“I mean, everyone’s different. It’s not . . . a big deal.”

“You’d think so,” she commented sardonically.

I folded up into myself like a complex origami piece. “Yeah, well, sometimes I wish I was dangerous. Actually dangerous.”

She giggled. “Didn’t you just say everyone’s different? I’d say everyone’s dangerous too. Just gotta find the niche.”

“Oh yeah,” I dared to turn toward her. “What’s yours then?”

“My danger niche? Hmm.” She was leaning now, pitching forward like a wave come to drown me. “I do have a few tricks up my sleeve I’ll admit.”

“You have a pair of wings hidden away?” I stopped breathing as her hand lifted up, strange and all at once. I wasn’t ready.

“Here.” Her skin was against mine. She cupped my cheek with one velvet-hand. It was heated cashmere, tiny feather-light hairs on her palm. “Feelers.” She whispered with a hesitancy there.

“Ah,” I was indulgent. I closed my eyes. I leaned in. “And you want to put a needle over these?” I put my hand over hers, loosely, so she could pull away if she wanted to. Tiny hairs pulsed there with some kind of life all their own.

“I wanted . . .” She paused and I peaked open my eyes. I could see every detail of her face, illuminated. “I dunno.” She finished. “I guess I just wanted whatever I saw there, before.”

“In the butterfly?”

“In the butterfly.” I turned toward the ocean, but my hand remained over hers. “I’m not sure how good it will be a second time. It’s not like I’m really an artist. . .”

“What did you want to be?” Soft.

“Who knows. I mean, I’m glad my parents didn’t try to fight the schools. Being there during the day was better than being home, listening to my mom crying all the time and my father exploding . . . They wouldn’t have wanted me home.”

Before the sunset, when I was walking over, I thought maybe we’d kiss that night. I thought I’d feel that first electric pulse and maybe we’d climb into the ocean and swim in circles, laugh until the moon rose. I thought maybe I’d get something out of my system and there wouldn’t be anything left to say or do.

I’d kiss Park, once, and she’d be satisfied. She’d understand. She’d go on her college path and I’d go on on mine.

But the words spilled out, unbidden. Park stayed in place, steady and unflinching. That made it worse, so much worse.

“My parents weren’t like yours.” There was an accusatory edge to it. Don’t you know? I wanted to shout. Don’t you know? Even without the eyes or the school bills or the bus.

“Hey,” she cradled my cheeks with both hands now and smeared the tears away from one eye. “Hey, listen, I know. Alright? I know.”

I scowled back at her feathered little feelers.

“It’s not about the damn antenna or head beams or anything else.” I tried to pull away. “Even the kid with the antler’s kissed me and I didn’t stop him. I ran away from home and my mom never came looking. It didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter! You wouldn’t even get it. You wouldn’t get it!” I squeeze my eyes closed. “You were wanted.”

Slowly, like an awkward animal burrowing into soft earth, she pressed her forehead to the crook of my neck. I could feel us both breathing in, strong and steady. She was lean and silky, and I swore I can feel her heartbeat hammering through my throat.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. I inhaled her sunscreen scent. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know. But I could.”

“Why are you here?” It was miserable and wet, I hated that my eyes were so different and yet still the same. Could still spill over like theirs. She took a long breath but didn’t move away.

“My last girlfriend broke up with me for being . . . sensitive and I thought maybe if I got a tattoo, I’d stop feeling so much. I’d prove something. I’d feel everything less, you know? It would hurt and then it wouldn’t.”

I took that in a parsec at time. “Are you,” I sniffed. “Are you alright?” Her legs and arms were plastered over mine. “You’re so soft, but, but I don’t want to,” I wipe at my face like it didn’t matter. “Hurt you.”

“I know.” Her face was still pressed to my neck and her lips fluttered across the hallow of my skin. “I didn’t want to hurt you either.”

A stillness settled into my bones. I glanced toward the moon, and it was like looking at like, a terrible moon to another moon. I gathered myself. I took a deep breath. I flattened.

“I shouldn’t have said all that.” My voice had dried up. “We led different lives.” It wasn’t her fault if she was wanted.

“No.”

“I wasn’t thinking . . .”

Her hand wrapped around my wrist. “I talk to Annie sometimes when you aren’t there.”

“Okay?”

“And Davies. And that front desk guy.”

“Daft Jeff. Yes.”

“They all say the same thing . . .” I blinked a couple times. “That I really should wait for you to give me the tattoo. You have a steady hand and an eye for detail.”

“Alright . . .”

“That someone taught you tattooing the right way. They wanted to show you the right way to do it.”

I snorted despite myself. “It’s not that hard. Mags was batty. Who knows why she showed me how to pick up a needle.”

“Don’t you see? They say they wouldn’t know what to do without you.” She was still there. She wasn’t moving, almost in my lap now. “You were wanted.”

“Park?” My voice cracked like a question.

“And you come with me to restaurants and help me buy bottle openers. You find shells for me and help me fix tires.” Her breath was hot and dragged across my cheek. “You are wanted.”

I blocked out her face, her voice, I turned on the sharp white sun inside and for a moment I imagine never opening my eyes back up again. Maybe I could make it night forever inside myself as well. Wouldn’t you rather have something quiet inside?

She wrapped herself around me, fully, one long arm at a time until it was cocoon. Soft. “Listen, sometimes the first people aren’t the right people. Sometimes your first relationship isn’t the right relationship. Sometimes you’re sure the world is one way, and like, always one way . . . and then it rains and the whole world is different again. You know? People pass.”

“My parents aren’t the weather.”

“But they’ll pass.” I should have pushed her off. But even against that, even those words— I liked being held, indulgent as chocolate and twice as guilty. “People sometimes feel forever, especially those kinds of people.” I was off again. “But it rains. And hey, I always know when it’s going to rain.”

I hiccupped; a smile found its way uninvited onto my face, unsure and just wobbly on its feet as Davies. I glanced down after a deep breath. Park grinned back at me and it reached the highest shelves of me all over again.

“So what happens when it rains again? Do you people like you pass?”

“Nah, not me. I don’t know how.” She winked. I didn’t notice that we’re lying flat now, stars and carpet of black above. “You can’t get rid of me. You haven’t given me that tattoo yet.”

The sound of shushing waves filled the midnight air and the moon looked down like that very first bus arriving to get me all those years ago. I wrapped my arms right back around her. She didn’t seem to mind that I was sticky or strange or sometimes kept tearing up all over again even after we’d stop saying anything worth tearing up over. ------------------

It happened. I felt like I should have been more prepared, brought flowers or poetry or earned it through honored warfare. But it happened. I was wearing ripped jeans, a spotty t-shirt and my breath smelled like coffee. We were looking for Park’s lost earring along an overgrown hill she usually biked along.

I found it, one shiny red dewdrop in all that green. Park pointed at some clouds that looked like my last “abstract” tattoo. We lay back in the grass and let the sky pass overhead. She giggled and touched my wrist, side by side. I let her.

“Summer’s almost over.” I mumbled it first.

“Yeah?”

“You find your next step then, college girl?” I tried to keep my tone light. She turned to be on her side.

“Maybe.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.”

“That does not sound like a college-girl plan.”

“Maybe I’ve got other plans. Maybe I’ve got other priorities, huh?”

“Ridiculous.” A playfully push her shoulder. “A lousy seaside town really isn’t priority material. There’s only one bookshop you know.”

“Two thank you very much. And that’s not my priority either.” Her voice wavered.

“Are you going to share with the class?”

“Is the class ready?” She whispered and I turned toward her as well now, taking in her perfect round face and question-mark mouth.

“I have been.” I matched her whisper. I tremor from my center outward and hopes she can’t tell.

“Do you know what they say about moths?”

“What?” I gave a breathy laugh. It wasn’t what I was expecting. “I’ve heard of them.”

“They tell your fortune.” She was grinning in that way that put out a stool and reached up. “I used to cry a lot growing up, because some kids said that moths are just evil butterflies. I was sensitive and ran all the way home. I threw myself at my mom’s feet and threw a fit about how moths were just evil butterflies. They were just ugly, wicked versions of a good thing.”

“Evil? Well, I suppose you are rather sinister when you haven’t eaten.”

“Shut up. I’m telling you something.” She put a hand on my shoulder. I inhaled deeply and turned over in place to face her. Only the shallow breeze kept us apart.

“I’m all ears . . . though maybe not as many as you.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“What can I say? The sun is adorable. I take after him.”

A finger ghosted over my cheek, tracing the arc of my cheekbone. “Well, you’re not so bad behind those headlights too. Some of us have good day vision you know. And good taste.”

I wished those words didn’t make my chest do funny things. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to hear what my mom said or not?”

“That you shouldn’t worry about evil butterflies?” I wiggled closer. “Because you’ll be really hot and funny and smart one day. So who cares if you’re evil?”

“Yeah, those were her exact words.”

“So?”

“So,” a firm hand took my chin. “Look at me.” I looked at her. I was glad she couldn’t see the flush in my cheeks in any way. “Moths show good fortunes she said.”

“Right. Lots and lots of good fortune.” I breathed, dumbly, of course. She was close and sweet and there was hair in her face. The fronds of her antennae tickle right past my ear.

“They can help you find good fortune. They’re good omens. You know why?” Park’s lips were barely moving as she spoke, hypnotic and unhurried.

“Why?”

“Because they follow the light.”

It happened all at once. Like every cheesy love poem or bad lyrics I wrote in my journals at night. It was every cracked-spine of a book using words like “rosebud lips” and every overdone song about people who find their way to each other.

I kissed her, leaning in with no life vest on or readied crash-landing position. She kissed me and my chest filled with her, breathless, drowning, soft as dreams and stranger than hope. I cradled her and she dragged me closer and closer until it was nothing but floods and brimming.

I’d been nothing before I think, I’d been an island that waits, a bus that leaves, a shadow that hides. And then I had been hers. ----------------- I was strolling home from work along the main road. The thin strip of sidewalk was streaked with bleached sunlight and the salt air was thick enough to burn throats. It was the long way home, but I was in the habit of going back to this corner.

The bus pulled up with little ceremony. It was an interstate one that crisscrossed over empty bellies of land. I stopped in place to watch, just in case, as I had many times before.

A silver head bobbed down the steps and planted herself on the concrete, unbelieving. She took an enormous noisy sniff of the air. “Not so bad!” She bellowed.

“Are you?” That wasn’t meant to be my first word. She was more stooped now and wearing shiny things on her wrist that clanked. She’d lost another tooth. “Mags.”

“Eh!” She yelled and waved frantically as if I hadn’t shot up another inch since I last saw her and started wearing clothes without holes in them. Her eyes sparkled as she tottered over. “So how’d you do, kid?”

“See for yourself.” I smiled. It was nice when the tides came back in. Mags gave me a thorough appraising. “Like this I guess.” I held up my hand. I wiggled my ring finger at her, heavy with a silver band and glittering opal.

“That’s my girl! Always knew you’d find your feet.” She cackled. “Am I too late to give you away, kid?”

I shook my head. She waddled over to me so I could take her hand. I took her home to show her my art and new tattoos, I showed her our terrible one-eyed kitten, Basket (Wicker’s son), and the little house we styled ourselves. I showed her our shoe closet and our queen bed, our messy kitchen and busted screen door. I showed her the moth tattoo over my heart, and Park showed her the matching lighthouse one over hers.

I tried to thank her, of course, I tried to say I owed her more than she knew for picking up an angry, dirty kid and seeing something in her. I owed her everything. But she just patted my hand and said that it’s not about our debts in life, kid. It’s about the becoming.

-----------

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#wlw #sapphic #found family #urban fantasy #writeblr #magical realism #fantasy stories #short story #writing #lesbian romance #patreon late release #femslash #f/f #8k #my work #long post #long post cw

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novaiya · 3 years

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The Girl from the North Country - Arthur x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: While snooping through Arthur's journal, Karen finds a portrait of a woman who draws her attention. After being caught and reprimanded for her actions, she can’t help but ask who the woman was. Just the mention of her portrait puts Arthur years in the past, right to the very night the two shared.

Words: 3,229

Warnings: F!Reader

A/N: When describing how Reader and Arthur met, the Reader will be referred to in third person (she/her), but when the main action and smut starts, it'll be back to second person (you)

It was not uncommon for Karen to take a peek into Arthur’s journal from time to time. Despite Arthur being protective of his journal, the only place in the world where he could be himself, he couldn’t always keep it on him. Sometimes when he went to bathe in a river nearby, or when he was doing chores around the camp, he would leave it in his satchel in his tent. He trusted his fellow gang members to not snoop around his belongings. The temptation to get a close look into the mind of the stoic gunslinger, however, was too much for Karen, so she would occasionally sneak a peek into it. She would find everything from doodles of animals to portraits of people to sketches of towns and forests. Some pages were filled with tales of the gang’s excursions, the gruesome details of their doings could rival those in crime novels that Hosea read from time to time. Others were filled with more mellow and intimate details of Arthur’s life, and despite being curious, Karen often skipped those, feeling as if reading those pages would cross an imaginary line she set for herself.

On one of these occasions, when she was flipping through the pages of Arthur’s journal as if through a newspaper, she came upon a portrait of a woman. It was the most detailed, carefully drawn picture out of all she has seen Arthur draw in his journal so far. The woman’s hair was spread over her head like a halo, and her unclothed bosom was thrusted upward, making it seem like she was in the midst of taking a gulp of air. Her eyes looked hazy, drowned in pleasure as they looked out from the pages of the journal, and Karen could feel herself grow embarrassed under the mystery woman’s stare.

“What are you doing?” Arthur’s gravel voice sounded behind her, and before she had a chance to say or do anything, the journal was pulled from her hands.

A wave of embarrassment and guilt came over her, and she could feel her face grow hot in seconds. She stammered for a few moments, trying to gather her courage, but no words came; she couldn’t defend herself, for she was clearly at fault.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said as she kept her eyes on the ground, too ashamed to look at Arthur.

Arthur didn’t reply. He moved past the girl to his cot where he satchel laid. He picked it up and put his journal in it before dropping it back on his cot.

“Enjoyed the reading material?” Arthur said with clear mockery in his voice. A mix of anger and embarrassment filled him. He felt very exposed, knowing that someone read through the pages he thought he was safe in. The journal was the only thing in the world to know the real Arthur Morgan. Everything that happened to him throughout the years, good and bad, was recorded there. Sometimes he felt that there was more of him in the journal than there was in himself.

“Arthur, I’m sorry!” Karen cried as Arthur walked away, back to his chores. He didn’t turn around at her voice, so she ran up to him. “Please, Arthur,” she said, bringing her hand to his shoulder to turn him to face her. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

As he looked at her, he could see tears threatening to spill from her eyes. He was still angry, still disappointed and upset at her for what she did, but he found himself feeling bad for her, and angry at himself for being the cause of her tears. He shook his head before enveloping the girl in his arms, trying to calm her down. “It’s okay, you’re alright.”

The two of them were back in his tent, with Karen still apologizing to Arthur, and the latter assuring her that it truly was all right. Finally, after some time, when Karen felt back to herself, she sheepishly asked, “Who was that woman?” She knew that she was pushing her luck by asking such a question after what she’s done, but she couldn’t help it. The image of the woman hasn’t left her mind since she saw it, and she knew there must be an exciting story to accompany an equally exciting picture.

He didn’t need to be shown the picture, he knew instantly which she was talking about. Karen watched Arthur after asking the question, and she could see that the mention of it put a certain look into his eyes. Just the mention of her image could put him years into the past, right to the very night they shared. Sometimes, the memory felt like it was from another lifetime; yet he could always remember it with fine details, from the feelings of her skin against his own, to the smell of her hair and the warmth of her breath.

Arthur paused in surprise. The woman across the room stood leaning against the wall, one of her hands in her pants pocket, the other holding a shot glass. The air around her was thick with ease and independence and it seemed that everyone around was affected. The men who sat not far from her were turning their heads, trying to catch a glimpse of her face from under the brim of her hat. The barmen tried, and failed, to serve the patrons and keep his eye on the mystery woman at the same time. The woman in question though seemed to either not be aware of the effect she had on people, or didn’t care. As Arthur pushed past the saloon doors, she lifted her head, meeting his eyes, and he too, fell prey to her stare.

Despite being a grown man, he felt like a school boy as he tried to muster up the courage and introduce himself to the woman who seemed to have a strong hold over everyone in the establishment. As he downed a shot of whiskey, ready to make his advance, the woman was already by his side, introducing herself with easy and grace that enchanted him for years to come. The two spent a few hours together, getting to know each other. She was a bounty hunter, traveling from state to state in search of adventure and excitement. Each little bit of information that she fed him only made him hunger for more, and he felt that he will never be satiated.

The two promised to meet again, and that they did. On more than a few occasions, Arthur accompanied her to one of her bounty hunts, helping her despite both of them knowing that she could manage alone. What started as accidental meetings soon turned into planned ones, and a few times the two even went on jobs together, robbing coaches and homesteads. The time they spent together did nothing but make her hold over him stronger. Whenever he was away from her, he found that she was still with him, filling his mind with images of herself and the sound of her voice. Everything about her attracted him, from how different she was to any person he’s met before, to her effortless smile and to her beautiful name. He was caught in the gravity of her and he let it take over. Realizing that he didn’t want to count the days until their every meeting, a silly, boyish idea popped into his head that he knew he had to ask her the next time they met.

“I told you Arthur, I can’t,” you said as you jolted from the chair you were sitting not a moment ago, shaking your hand and walking over to a window on the other side.

He followed you right away and said, “Well why not?” and motioned around with his hands. You turned around to look at him, holding his gaze for a moment, seeing the fierceness and passion in his eyes that threatened to burn his cornea out. The two of you have been arguing for the last ten minutes. After yet another successful coach robbery, you went back to your hotel room to relax and celebrate the winnings. As you shared drinks and conversations with each other, Arthur was gathering the strength to ask you something that he’s been meaning to for the past few weeks.

“Would you want to come back with me, to my gang?” he said, catching you off guard and making you stop breathing for a few moments.

It was only natural that he would ask you something like that. With how much the two of you have been working together, you were practically already part of his gang in some way. Still, you couldn’t walk the final step and fully commit. You’ve been alone for the better part of your life; The ease of having no one to report to, and needing to worry about yourself only was something you weren’t willing to give up. You told him as much, and despite thinking of himself as a calm and collected man, he couldn’t accept your answer.

“I told you why,” you said, your voice now lower than it was a moment ago. Your eyes turned to look out of the hotel room window into the distance, past the small establishments that littered the main road. On the horizon, the sun was setting. The day was coming to an end, and so was your peculiar relationship with Arthur. You knew that at some point he would want more. There were the long gazes across the campfires, the occasional, drunk make-out sessions that never went too far. You knew that you were playing with fire with how long you stayed in the town, but it seemed that Arthur was not the only one to be caught in the gravity of the situation.

He came up to stand next to you, the proximity of his body making your stance weaken. “That ain’t good enough reason,” he said.

"It is for me,” you replied.

As if just realizing how pushy he has been, he stepped back, feeling embarrassed that his emotions, something that he thought he’s learned to control, got the better of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said and shook his head. He took a deep breath, trying to compose both himself and his emotions, carefully picking out the next words to say. “I just don’t wanna lose you. Each time we split, I’m afraid it’s for the last time,” he said, taking a small pause after each sentence, the silence in between emphasizing the weight of his words.

Despite working with, and being in close proximity to Arthur for the past few months, you’ve never seen this vulnerable side of him. You could see how hard it was for him to say what he felt. He didn’t seem like someone who often expressed his feelings orally, and it made each word mean so much more.

“Arthur,” you spoke his name, and reached out with your hand to touch his cheek. He leaned into your touch immediately, like a child into the loving hands of their mother. He craved the warmth of your touch, and the knowledge that right now, you were still here, still with him.

He said your name, his voice still quiet and mellow, and said, “Stay with me.” The tone of his voice kept the sentence teetering somewhere between a question and a statement and you didn’t reply anything in return, instead moving closer, and pressing your lips against his.

At the feeling of your lips against his own, he could feel every fiber in his being wake up to life. He could feel his heartbeat all over his body; in his chest, his throat and his hands, which went immediately to your hips and brought your flush against him. The feeling of his body against yours was intoxicating, and your hands immediately went to explore every inch you could get to.

He was slowly pushing you backwards, small, careful steps towards the bed in the back of the room, till you hit it with the back of your knees. Without breaking the kiss, you fell into the bed, pulling Arthur down with you. Everything about this moment was beautiful, from the feeling of your body under his, the movement of your lips against his own, to the warmth of your skin against his. He wished for this moment to never end.

He broke the kiss, only to instantly move his lips to your neck, peppering it with kisses and light nips. The sound of your voice, sighing and moaning his name only spurred him more and more, and before long he was talking off your top, revealing your chest to him. For a moment, he stopped his movements and admired your beauty. You were like a nymph, mysterious and hypnotizing. Everything about you drew him in, from the shape of your lips, to the hazy way you looked at him. You were too beautiful to be real, and he was afraid that if he closed his eyes, you would disappear like the dream you were.

The two of you were far too starved for each other’s bodies to prolong the inevitable for much longer, and were quickly pulling at each other’s clothes. His hands were working on the buttons of your pants, while yours were pulling down his suspenders. He was pulling down your pants while you were pushing open his shirt. Before too long, the two of you were naked before each other. You reached out with your hands, running it down his neck to his muscular chest and his stomach, down to his hard member. Your mouth salivated at the sight of him, and you licked your lips, suddenly thinking that you’ve never been with a man as arousing as Arthur was. With your carnal desires taking over you, you parted your legs, inviting him in. His mind was too clouded by lust to act civilized or gentleman-y, so he quickly took the invitation and settled between your legs. He dropped down to capture your lips once again, before taking a hold of his member and slowly pushing in. Even through the kiss, you could hear the sound of your combined moans as the two of you became one. All your thoughts were centered on how good it felt, on how good he felt. Arthur stilled for a moment when he was all the way in, trying to compose himself. He took a deep breath, but the feeling of your walls enveloping him, and your hands now holding onto his forearms made him shudder, and he lost himself, setting a steady rhythm which left you a moaning, writhing mess under him.

Everything meshed together as the two of you lost yourself in the pleasure of each other’s bodies. His lips were on your neck, kissing your soft skin, while his hands were on your hips and your waist, relishing in the curves of your body. Your legs were hooked over his torso, holding him close to you, while your nails dug into his back, holding for dear life and leaving crimson marks behind that hurt just enough to make Arthur crave more.

You couldn’t tell whether hours or seconds passed when you felt yourself near the peak. All your energy and attention centered on where the two of you were connected. Arthur felt you tighten around him, could feel the warmth of your ragged breaths. He sneaked a hand between the two of you and found your clit. The feeling of his finger on you was the last thing you needed to come apart, and with a moan of his name, you did. Your legs trembled and your voice rose an octave or two as immense pleasure ran through veins, filling all of you with its warmth.

Arthur wasn’t far behind, and after a few more thrust, he succumbed to the pleasures and pulled out, releasing himself on your stomach.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, he found your lips once again. The kiss was slower, more sensual than the one you shared in the beginning. The kiss spoke more than the two of you have been for the past few months. He confessed his love for you with the way he bit your bottom lip. With the flick of your tongue, you said “Me too”

His mind was blank as you laid on his chest, asleep. For the first time in a long time, he felt content and relaxed. One of his hands was on the small of your back, keeping you close against him, while the other played with a strand of your hair. After a few minutes, he gently pulled himself up and took a satchel that laid on the bedside table. He pulled his journal and a pen out and started drawing. Whether you were going to come with him or not, he wanted to always have an image of you with him, to remind him of the woman that you were. With the sketch done, he put his journal back into his satchel and turned around, capturing you in his hands and with a small yawn, fell asleep.

He woke up, but instead of finding the warm, desired body next to him, found emptiness. He looked around, the room was bare; her clothes, guns and bags were gone. He pushed himself from the bed and went to look out of the window to where their horses were hitched last night and found only his own there. He closed his eyes and stood still for a moment. The hotel room suddenly felt too big and empty for him.

Just like her, the conclusion to their peculiar relation left him with many questions that he knew would torment his mind for months to come. He wondered if it was a mistake to ask her to come with him so soon. Should he have waited a bit more? Or should’ve he just enjoyed what they had and see where it would take him? With these thoughts, he packed his things and left the hotel room.

“And that’s all there is to it,” Arthur said, turning to look at Karen. The girl, after hearing the entire story, was left with her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. She could see, with the way Arthur talked and the way his eyes looked out into the distance, that despite years and distance, the woman still had the same hold on him. She wanted to ask him if he ever tried to find her, but she felt that she already opened up too many old wounds. Instead, she thanked him for sharing the story with him, and promised to never look into his journal again.

With everyone asleep and the main campfire empty, he found himself in his cot, unable to fall asleep. He could feel the weight of her head on his chest, the feeling of her hair in his hand. He wondered if she thought of him as much as he did of her. With years, the memory of months that they shared together was becoming more fuzzy, and sometimes, he wondered if they happened at all. The only thing he had to remind him that it was all real was that portrait and the feelings he still had for her.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan imagines #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redemption #arthur morgan #rdr2 imagines #rdr2 headcanons #arthur morgan headcanons #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfics #arthur morgan fanfic

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dancingamongstdust · 3 years

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Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

I’ve opened requests now, if anybody is interested. Here’s the post:

Requests

Lost Silver

As stupid as it sounds, the game didn’t scare you.

It had started as a joke, something passed around your friend group after it had been discovered. The cartridge was just a janky version of a Pokémon game that was apparently spooky and so, everybody had taken turns messing around with it. They all said creepy things started happening but nothing too bad.

When it was your turn, you had been fully expecting something out of a horror movie. Instead, you had gotten a game that just had audio cut offs and weird notes warning you to stay out. It wasn’t all together scary.

You mentioned this to the next person you gave the game to in your friend group and they had laughed, saying it would probably ring true for them also.

But for some reason, your ally didn’t manifest.

Less than two days later, they practically threw the game at the rest of you and ran away sprouting things about curses. After that, the appeal of playing it kind of went away.

Nobody wanted to buy it and apparently throwing it out wasn’t a suggestion. So you ended up getting it.

Curiosity soon got the better of you and you booted up the game again, really sure that it would do something absolutely crazy but it never did. It ran like it always had with only that one file being completed.

So you deleted the file.

And nothing happened.

The next day, when you booted up the game, the file had simply returned as though you hadn’t deleted it in the first place. A similar thing occurred the next time. And the next.

Eventually you gave up and just started your own game. There, everything ran like it was meant to and you were beginning to think that your friends had all been imagining stuff. Maybe their paranoid got to them or something like that?

But eventually, the nightmares started. And they were bad.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened during them. They were a swirling mess of games and glitches, horrible things spelled out in letters and blood covering everything. You would always wake up right when they seemed to be coming to a pivotal point. You’d find yourself dragged into a graveyard and then you’d wake up screaming

It was awful. You hardly got any sleep during them and they seemed to haunt you every night, keeping you up until the early hours of the morning.

But the worst only came when you didn’t wake up.

When you were dragged to the grave and looked down to see the ellipsis where the name should be. A punch to the gut that reminded you of what the game file was called. A confirmation of what was causing this dream.

You stared at it for ages before your eyes drifted up and you met his gaze. He was covered in blood, it leaked from every orifice and limb. It stained his dirty clothing even worse.

While you were staring, the world seemed to distort even though he didn’t. The game world melted away and your bedroom slowly reappeared.

It wasn’t until you saw car headlights move past your window – casting awful shadows across the room – that you realised you were no longer dreaming. He wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

The temperature in the room plummeted and you began to slowly reach for a weapon of some kind. He turned to look at what you were watching. His head tilted to the side and a glitch raced across his body before he vanished into thin air. Flicking on the lights didn’t show him hiding or cowering.

Perhaps your friends weren’t crazy after all.

Masky

“You know, if we had been a little more patient, none of this would have happened,” your sibling lectured. “We could be relaxing inside the car without having to worry about a bloody flash flood coming down from the sky.”

You shoved their back, forcing them to stumble a little as they went through the door. “Chances are the river’s going to burst its banks anyway. We would have been stuck in traffic for hours because the bridge is blocked off.”

“At least we would have been dry,” they muttered, running their fingers through their hair. “And not trapped inside an abandoned building.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over the rubble to settle down on a camping chair. “Don’t even start. This place has been a hangout for my friends and I for ages. There’s never been a single problem bigger than a few spiders.”

“Till a landlord shows up,” they scoffed.

“Then we’ll move to the forest,” you joked. “I’m sure there’s a good bear cave we can use.”

“I’m going to be an only child,” they said, rolling their eyes. Still, they made their way over and sat. “How long do you think we have until the storm dies down?”

You relaxed back into the chair and smiled up at the asbestos-filled ceiling. “From the sound of it, a while.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time you had taken a nap in the building. You were scared of giant cockroaches coming to eat you once. You had gotten used to it since then but this time when you woke up, you were uneasy.

Glancing around, nothing was out of the ordinary. Your sibling was snoring in the chair next to you and outside the rain was pounding the roof.

You sat upright. Sometimes was definitely wrong.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you got up from the chair and began walking as quietly as you could through the house. It had always been tiny and practically void of furniture, but the few rooms provided ample hiding spots.

Nothing but rubble was in most of the rooms but, in what you presumed had once been a bathroom, you found a person.

He had his back to you but when you pushed the door open to peer in, he spun around, his hand flying to his side. He was wearing a white mask, dark features etched onto it, and an orange jacket. A dark stain ran up the right side of it, emanating from under his hand. The oddness of his clothing made you immediately back away from the door, finger twitching on your cell phone in case you needed to call for help.

The two of you stared at each other in silence.

You were lost about what to say or do. The stain on his jacket was spreading and the more you stared at it, the more you became convinced it was blood. “Are you okay?” you finally managed to ask.

It took him a while to respond but then he nodded. The mask was unnerving you. You didn’t like not being able to see a person’s facial expressions.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything, but it really looks like you’re bleeding,” you said. “And quite badly. I can call for an ambulance or something although…” you turned your attention to the window behind his head. “I’m not sure they’ll be able to get anywhere with this weather.”

He stepped backward. “I’m fine,” he said, so soft you barely caught it. “I thought this place was abandoned.”

“It normally is,” you answered. “But we had to avoid the storm. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here also?”

“Yes,” he responded.

You waited or him to say something more, but all you got was silence. He had moved further away and now he had his back against the window. Part of you wanted to turn around and go back to your sibling but you were unsure about turning your back on the strange man.

The mask made you scared he could stab you or something.

Somebody calling your name made you turn your head on instinct. Your sibling must have woken up and realised you were missing.

Quickly, you turned back to the man, but he had disappeared. Rain spat through the now open window.

Nurse Ann

Everybody always warned you about exploring old buildings. They would yell about how many things could injure or kill you. Stray animals, drug addicts, old equipment, and all that. You had heard just about every warning imaginable. Ghosts were pretty commonly mentioned also.

But killer nurse was a new one.

“Come on, just give me a little more information,” you nagged. “I’m going there whether you’re with me or not so you may as well just tell me what you’ve heard.”

Your friend (and partner in crime for most ventures) groaned. “It’s not much. They just say that she guards the place and if you get too close, she’ll run you off with a chainsaw. Some people have died from injuries they got while there. Let’s just give this one a miss, alright?”

But you were not in agreement at all.

“Maybe she’s cute though,” you teased.

They didn’t find that funny and you didn’t push them to come with you. So later that evening, you snuck in by yourself.

The hospital was old with crumbling walls and smashed windows. It was hidden from the public by means of a tall barbed-wire fence and a substantial distance of open garden. Nothing too extreme for you and definitely worth the potential items you’d find inside. When hospitals went under, they often left tons of awesome stuff just scattered around.

You’d never sold anything you found in your abandoned building dives. They were more collectables than anything else but they meant quite a bit to you.

There weren’t any signs of crazy nurses as you approached the place. Nobody came running at you with a chainsaw at least. You didn’t even find evidence of squatters who could sometimes pose some danger.

After deciding it was safe enough, you lifted yourself through one of the windows and began to explore.

Honestly, it was creepy. Everything was way too old to be worth collecting and there were too many unidentifiable stains for your liking. The water damage was bad. It looked like the ceiling was there for aesthetics only and several rooms creaked too much for you to comfortably cross them.

And that was even without the awkward feeling of being watched.

You told yourself that it was just superstition but you couldn’t shake it. Every few seconds saw you looking over your shoulder in anticipation. It distracted you from keeping your eye on the path in front of you and the loud crack reached your ears too late.

The floor gave out and you fell through. Your shoulder hit some kind of metal object as you landed in the room below. Painful shocks ripped through your body and your head knocked against the floor with a heavy thud.

Stars danced in front of your vision and you raised your hand to the top of your head. Blood coated your hand when you lowered it to look.

Shit.

Shakily, you tried to pull yourself up but quickly found that your arm was too sore. Instead, you pulled your phone from your pocket and sent off the emergency text to your friend.

The world faded to black not long after that.

When you woke up next, you were in your room with a bandage wrapped around your head. You had felt like absolute crap but still gotten up to thank them for the save. They had nodded and warned you to be more careful, happy that you had been outside the hospital so they didn’t have to look for too long.

Before you could even think about how you had crawled there, they asked how you had managed to do your own stitches so nicely.

Puppeteer

Your camera was on 10% battery.

Grumbling, you shoved it into your bag and cursed your past self for forgetting to put it on charge. In order to get the best sunrise photos, you had found yourself waking up earlier and earlier. It was tiring but it was worth it… most of the time.

You just hoped that at least one of your pictures was usable but you could only check on them once you got home.

The streetlight above your head flickered as you walked past. It wasn’t unusual but when you were the only person awake for miles around, it was awfully creepy.

Putting your hands into your jacket pockets, you continued strolling back home. The neighborhood had never been dangerous and despite living in the area for your entire life, no incidents made you want to stop walking around at night.

Deciding that you wanted to take a precautionary shot, you headed for your neighbour’s house first. They had an arch covered in jasmine flowers that made for some perfectly safe photos and they never minded your presence.

After making your way there and getting a few photos, you were treated to the fright of your life when their began howling and barking. It wasn’t aimed at you but you didn’t like the noise regardless.

As you rounded the corner of the house, planning on racing back to your own home, you encountered the dog’s target.

A man – cloaked in the darkness and barely illuminated by the streetlight – opening one of the windows with ease. Irritated by the dog, he didn’t notice you until your finger twitched around the shutter of your camera. There was a flash.

His head snapped up and you screamed.

The man’s complexation was literally grey. He wasn’t just ill, he was the colour of storm clouds. Golden eyes with no pupils glared at you and froze you in place. Whatever he was, this man was the furthest thing from human.

Your scream woke your neighbors. The sound of movement began coming from inside the house.

He abandoned the window, stalking towards you. The air tingled like it was expecting a lightning storm. Golden tendrils grew from his fingertips and shot towards you. They had you pinned in an instant.

You struggled against them and opened your mouth to scream again but they wrapped around your head, forcing your jaw shut.

This was how you died… tears spilled down your cheeks at the realization. You were going to be an unsolved murder. All you hoped was you got a good picture of him.

Your neighbor’s front door opened and great dane let out an ear-splitting bark as he raced toward you.

The man, or creature, or monster, or whatever he was, released you to face the dog. He let it approach before vanishing into a cloud of smoke as its jaws reached him.

“What was that?” the timid voice brought you back into reality.

“It was trying to get into your house,” you said. “I screamed when I saw it and then it grabbed me.” Your voice changed to a whimper as reality hit you. You nearly died.

The small child of the house came over to hug your leg. “I’m sure Puppet didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “He always comes to visit but he doesn’t like it when people make noise. You shouldn’t scream when you see him again.”

You made eye-contact with the parents and they wore expressions of horror at their daughter’s words.

“Puppet?” you asked in a small voice.

She nodded rapidly. “He says he stops by because he likes watching people. I think that he’s watching us all right now! But he can hide in the shadows too well.”

“I’m going to go and call the police,” somebody said.

You weren’t all too focused. The feeling of being watched grew heavier and you clutched tightly at the camera in your hands.

Slenderman

You couldn’t tell if they were being serious. You hoped that they were joking. They weren’t genuinely going to…

“No,” you stated.

The two younger children both turned to look at you simultaneously. Guilt flashed across their faces as though they weren’t aware you were listening. It was as though you were asked to babysit them because you didn’t pay attention. These two should have realised that by now.

“Do you think all the stories are true?” the boy asked. “I think that they are. One of my friends said she saw a huge dog in the forest and then it ran away after eating a whole cow!”

“No way!” his twin sister shouted. “Dogs don’t eat cows, so it can’t be true!”

You put on your best intimidating expression and crossed your arms. “I don’t care if they’re true or not. There is absolutely no chance that either of you are going to go running off into the woods with bears, wolves and all kinds of other creatures.”

The two children glanced at each other and bolted for the tree line before you could grab their shirts.

Thankfully your legs were longer even if they had a head start and you managed to catch up pretty quickly. Once you caught the boy and picked him up with ease, the girl dashed behind a tree.

“Can we please just leave?” you asked nicely. “If we forget about the forest adventure thing, I promise I won’t tell your parents and I’ll get you ice cream.”

The boy was trying his hardest to get out of your hold. You were starting to think babysitting didn’t pay enough.

“I don’t want ice cream,” the girl said. “I want to go and find a unicorn.”

She darted off into the forest and you let out a deep groan. Shifting the boy’s weight over your one hip, you started walking after her. If you wanted to give chase via running, you would have to put the kid down and trust him to follow or stay.

It was obvious that wasn’t happening.

It didn’t take you too long to find the girl. Mostly because she had stopped in the middle of a weird grove in the trees. She was just staring off into the dark shadows beyond it.

As you approached her, static popped in your ears. You shook your head in an effort to displace it but the closer you got, the louder it became.

The child in your arms whimpered, clutching his head.

You softly called her name and then it appeared. It was a man-like monster, standing just in the shadows of the trees. Easily over 7ft tall and insanely thin with no facial features. Your heart jumped into your throat and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

Without taking your eyes off it, you reached out a hand and fumbled around until you grabbed the girl’s shirt.

The static was getting louder and louder. You tried to shut it out as you started moving backwards, tugging the child along after you. She wasn’t willing to move her legs. She was entranced but whether by fear or magic, you couldn’t tell.

And then it was much closer.

You stumbled in fright, letting go of the girl’s shirt and landing on your ass. The boy fell on top of you but scrambled away and hide in the bushes within the blink of an eye. You sent a silent prayer to him to run back home to the other adults.

Once again, the creature was stationary but now the static was growing to such a volume that you could imagine your ears were starting to bleed.

You reached out for the girl again slowly, but something wrapped around your leg and yanked you into the air.

It took almost a full second for you to realise that the screaming ringing in your ears was you. Whatever was holding you tightened and whipped your body through the air. It was like your leg was being ripped away.

Then you were falling.

It was some feat of luck that you managed to twist your body, so you didn’t land on your head. You lay there for a while before something poking your back made you unbury your face.

The twins were staring at you with wide eyes and the monster was nowhere in sight.

“What was –“ you couldn’t finish.

“Slenderman,” they said in perfect sync.

Splendorman

Another stop…

You couldn’t help yourself. Every time you walked past one of the posters fluttering lightly in the wind you had to stop and stare at it.

A few days ago, your dog, your beautiful and sweet puppy, had disappeared from your house without a trace. The missing posters were depressing reminders that he wasn’t home. It hadn’t taken long for your mind to spiral into the negative thoughts about how close the road was.

Damn your coworkers. One of the had suggested the road in the first place and while they hadn’t intended anything malicious, it was definitely not helping your fears.

The dog had been with you through thick and through thin… if it was dead, you may as well have lost a close family member.

Hanging your head, you dragged your eyes away from the poster and kept walking.

People bumped into you, but it was your fault. You refused to look up in case another poster distracted you. Getting home before the sun set was your only focus now.

You had tried going out and searching in all the places where your dog once spent time to no avail. Always willing to try again, you chose to drop off your bags and head out later that evening when you ran out of distractions.

As you walked through the gates in front of your house, a gust of air gently messed up your hair. A gust of wind suspiciously similar to a laugh.

Your logical mind told you it came from the street, but something made you stop in your tracks.

The walls around your property towered. There’s no possibility that somebody could be in your garden. To try and scale one of the walls, they would have been in full view of your neighbours who would have undoubtedly called the cops.

“You’re sad,” the wind whispered before you could brush off your suspicion.

Spinning wildly, you searched around for the source. You backed up until your entrance gate was behind you. You could run down to the main street with ease if you could just get your fumbling fingers to unlock things.

“Don’t run,” the wind said, this time blowing from a separate direction. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to know why you’re upset.”

Is this what going insane was? Nobody around and the wind was talking to you. You had always feared losing your mind and now it was happening.

“I’m real,” the wind said. “I’m hiding because I’ll scare you if you see me.”

“I’m going mad,” you muttered, shaking your head. “If this is somebody pulling a prank on me I swear….”

The wind quietened for a bit and then it picked up again, ruffling your hair as it spoke. “If I show myself, it’ll prove that you’re not going crazy, but I don’t want to make it worse by frightening you… you’re so sad already.”

“I lost my best friend and people have been telling me he’s most likely dead,” you hissed. “Obviously I’m not in the best mood. Now I’m losing my fucking mind and talking to air.”

The atmosphere around you dropped, like it does moments before lightning strikes. You glanced at the sky in confusion. As expected, no clouds in sight.

You lowered your gaze and a 7ft tall creature covered in bright polka dots stood in front of your house.

Once you screamed, it disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” the wind said. “I knew I would scare you, but I had hoped it would show you that I’m not imaginary. I’m just trying to help.”

The gate finally opened behind you and you stumbled backwards through it, your heart sitting in your throat. A monster was in your house and it was probably going to kill you. Spinning on your heel, you took off full speed back towards the main street.

You were fully expecting it to give chase now that you hadn’t fallen for its claims of harmlessness but it didn’t.

Instead you reached the main road and only got a few strange looks because of how much you were shaking. Nothing followed you.

The wind picked up once more. “I’ll try and help,” it promised.

People walking around you should have heard it as well but none of them so much as blinked.

Ticci Toby

While you had been told that a noise limit for the forest existed, your laughter refused to cooperate. It rang through the trees and probably chased off all the animals nearby. A picnic out in a national forest was a fantastic way to reconcile with nature and to scare it all away.

With eleven people in your picnic party, chances of any creatures coming into view were already slim though so you didn’t worry too much.

“We didn’t bring nearly enough fruit,” you muttered as you dug in the basket.

“Excuse you, I brought a whole watermelon but you ate it,” somebody answered your grumble. “If you want fruit, it is spring. Go and forage for some berries.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m going to go out by myself in the middle of the one season where bears are irritable as fuck. I know I sometimes act a little impulsively, but I don’t exactly have a wish to die at the claws of a grumpy teddy.”

Your friend leaned towards you. “Is that so? What if we split into teams and made a bet? Loser has to take a dip in the river.”

“A bet?” you asked. “I’m interested.”

She grinned and snapped her fingers. “Okay, there are eleven people so I’m feeling groups of two with one impartial party as a judge. We should be fine if we make enough noise and stick within close vicinity to each other. See how many berries we can gather?”

Tipping out the picnic basket’s contents, you smirked and pushed it into her chest. “Oh, I hope you brought a swimming costume.”

Everybody teamed up with ease and grabbed one of the many containers lying on the blanket. You headed out with your partner and gave a wink to the other teams. All you needed was to find one good bush first and you had it won.

“We should split up,” your partner said. “Cover more ground.”

You nodded. “We meet up back here once we’ve found a good bush,” you agreed. “And we shout if we find any animals.”

Obviously, your plans hadn’t involved losing your footing almost directly after the two of you split.

Tumbling down the small hill, you tried your hardest to protect yourself from the bushes as you went through them. At some point, you lost your basket and by the time you had finally rolled to a stop, you had no idea where it was.

Grumbling, you stood up and started searching until something dark caught your eye. Thinking it was your basket, you made your way over.

The clearing you walked into housed a scene you could never have imagined.

A dead bear lay slumped against a tree, its fur being what had caught your eye earlier. A hatchet buried in its neck was spilling blood onto the floor around it. All that hardly compared to the man leaning against a tree.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

His head immediately snapped up, allowing you to see that he was wearing a mouth guard and a pair of goggles. Blood seeped from between his fingers where they clutched against his chest, but he hardly noticed. A hatchet was hanging from his belt.

Suddenly, you were wishing you had kept your mouth shut.

He stared at you blankly for a while, an occasional twitch minorly affecting his body. Reaching up, he took off his mouthguard. “I can’t feel any pain,” he said. “So, I’m fine. Why are y-you out here? The hiking trail is far.” He struggled with one of the words, seeming to hiccup a little on it.

“I was searching for berries and I slipped down a hill,” you answered. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like you got into a fight with a bear. Your shirt is all bloody.”

“I did fight a bear,” he laughed, gesturing to it. “I won.”

Your eyes grew wider. “I think you should get to a hospital. What’s your name? I can call somebody for you and we’ll get you medical attention.”

“Toby,” he said. “That’s my name. What’s yours?”

You gave him your full name and pulled out your phone. “My friends are close by,” you said. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here to help soon.”

When you raised your attention from your phone, he had disappeared and so had the hatchet from the bear’s neck.

Trenderman

Work was hard. It made your feet ache, it made your back click and crack, and it felt like the problems would never end.

Would you give up working in the fashion industry? Not a chance.

Your boss walked past where you were calming down an irate customer over the phone and dropped the keys to the front of the building in front of you. “Close up for me,” she mouthed as she left.

Nodding, you moved them to the side of the desk where they couldn’t be lost.

Once you had finished calming the customer, you glanced around to check how many people were left in the room. Three still working and one in the process of leaving. You were technically going into overtime at this point, but you didn’t mind.

There was a reason you were promoted so quickly.

“We need to set up cameras!” one of the floor managers snapped, storming into the office. She marched straight over to your desk and glowered at you. “I put this request in a week ago.”

Scrolling through the documents, you quickly opened the file. “I see but it looks like it’s been bumped due to a shipment malfunction, I’ll flag it. What’s the problem?”

“Customers or members of staff are moving items around and throwing things out without warning. We need to catch the culprits!” she snapped.

“What has been thrown out?” you asked. “I’ll add it into the information.”

The woman started listing quicker than you could type. “I’ve found crocs, toeless thigh-high boots, bellbottomed jeans, coloured faux fur jackets, luminous lipstick, w-necks, and jeggings all in vast numbers in the trash can. Every time I put them out on shelves, they disappear again.”

It took everything in you not to snort. “I’ll mark this vital.”

She stalked off and you went back to inputting the shipping requirements. You were meant to be organising what was coming in for the latest line and subtly omitting anything that wouldn’t sell well enough.

Slowly but surely, your co-workers trickled out of the office after finishing off their daily tasks. You kept going, trying to make sure you could have a longer break the next day.

Finally, when the sun had already set, you relented and started getting ready to go home.

You sung as you finished packing up for the day. Being the last one in the building (thus having to lock up) made you a little more confident as you danced around getting everything together. You slung your bag over your shoulder and happily trotted over to the door.

It made you so happy that your boss entrusted you to be the last one around. She was so hyper-protective of company secrets that you were proud of yourself for winning her over.

Your talent with people was something you attributed to dealing with painful customers.

As you passed through the store-part of the business you stopped to rearrange a mannequin. Every morning when you came in, you always noticed something had been changed with this specific one. You figured you could move something small and see if it would be a good place to set up a hidden camera.

Though you weren’t expecting it to suddenly grab your arm.

“You may be one of the few workers here with good taste, but I advise you don’t try and change my outfit,” it said. It didn’t have a mouth, but the words rang in your head, nevertheless.

You screamed and pulled away, tearing your arm from its grip. Shelves were knocked over and clothing was sent flying as you tried to escape.

The mannequin just watched you as you fumbled madly for the door.

The glass rattled in the frame from how hard you slammed it shut behind you. You sped off down the street, moving faster than you ever had before. You collapsed on your lawn by the time you reached the house, taking deep breaths.

Nothing had followed you. Everything was okay.

With shaking fingers, you dialed your boss’ number and told her you would be taking a sick day. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were going anywhere near there again.

Not to mention the mess you made… you were definitely getting fired.

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #slenderman #splendorman #trenderman #ticci toby #nurse ann #masky #cp masky #marble hornets #lost silver #puppeteer #x reader

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lydias--stiles · 3 years

Text

and all i've seen is green eyes and freckles and your smile

juke | childhood friends to lovers | title: everything has changed // taylor swift

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Hey! Can I make pies with you?" A voice chirps.

Luke looks up from his serious work, sweat building on his forehead, and meets the eyes of a girl from his classroom. She's Julie, he thinks, though it could also be Flynn or Thea or Penny. They all sit together.

"It's chocolate," he explains, digging his fingers in the mud. "Do you like chocolate?"

"I love chocolate!" she yells, collapsing in the sandbox beside him and tucking her cloud of curls behind her ears.

Their jeans are stained and their elbows are scratched, but by the end of recess, they've baked about a dozen different cakes and have 'tried' a few as well.

"My mom makes the best cakes," she babbles as the bell rings, the two sauntering to the spot Miss Bloom would be waiting. "Like, real cakes, and I help her."

"That's cool." He stuffs his tiny hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I like cake too. My mom doesn't make it though."

"Then how do you know you like cake?"

"We buy it from the store, duh!" he laughs. "My favourite's confetti cake."

She hums in agreement. "I like peanut butter cherry a lot."

He gawks. "Whoa! That sounds crazy!"

"Do you wanna try a slice sometime?"

They go to stand in line with the other kids of their class, Miss Bloom counting their heads.

"Sure!"

—

The class goes to the zoo the next week, and Luke and Julie stick together as newly formed best friends. She holds his hand when he's scared of the zebras, and he helps her stand a little higher on the gate to get a better look at the llamas.

She, Flynn and Luke make the biggest collage of pictures and drawings the class had ever seen.

She feigns reading his hand and tells him his future is bright, a word that sticks with him and starts using for the rest of year.

She also tells him they'll be best friends forever and it gains her the biggest hug in the world.

Second grade ends and all of her friends go to her house to eat peanut butter cherry pie and listen to music in the garden as they play games.

She links pinkies with Luke at the end of night. "Friends forever?"

He grins, missing a front tooth. "Forever and more!"

—

"Reggie's parents are fighting," Luke quips, both of them upside down on the monkey bars.

Julie looks at him. His face is turning red. She wonders if she looks the same right now. "Fighting? Like, yelling ?"

"I don't know." He tries to shrug but his arms just flop around. "He just says they're fighting. Maybe they'll get a DJ."

Her nose curls up. "A DJ?"

"A DJ... like when moms and dads aren't together anymore."

She giggles. "A divorce, silly!"

Alex and Reggie trudge to their spot on the playground and mount themselves on the monkey bars.

"What are we taking about?" Reggie asks.

Alex pouts. "I don't wanna go upside down. What if I fall?"

"I've fallen and I'm still alive," Luke counters.

Alex shrugs and sits on the bars, but doesn't drop upside down. He can still listen like this.

"About your parents," Julie says, "about fighting."

Reggie makes a face. "I just don't like it. Like, I'm loud, but they're loud!"

Luke makes a noise of excitement, not unlike a strangled animal. He puffs, hoisting himself up. The rest follows and suddenly Alex isn't alone.

"Let's do a sleepover!" he exclaims. "My house!"

Everyone hollers and agrees. Julie raises her hand. "Can Flynn come too?"

"Why?"

"Because Flynn is fun and my best friend too!"

Alex smiles. "I like her too."

Reggie wiggles his brows. "Like like?"

"Ew, no!"

"So?" Julie stresses, looking at Luke.

He shrugs. "Sure. She can come too."

—

They're ten when Luke yells, "Ew, no, I don't like Julie!"

The girl in question who had been making their way to the group of boys, ready to ask Luke, Alex and Reg to play, balks at his exclaim. He doesn't like her? But they're best friends!

Hurt and offended, she stomps the last few meters and yells his name.

"Luke!"

He turns around in surprise. "Jules!"

"What do you mean you don't like me?!"

All the boys start laughing and snickering, muffling their mouths or blatantly pointing at her. She crosses her arms. Boys are so stupid!

"I don't!" he rushes.

"WHAT?!"

"I don't like like you," he clarifies, annoyed by the boys.

She stops for a moment. "Well, duh."

"Ya see," Luke grins, "Julie and I are just tight, okay?"

Bobby shrugs. "Whatever. You're still a sissy for being best friends with a girl!"

Anger floods her senses once more and she makes a consecutive decision right then and there. Pounding forward, she takes a resolute turn to Bobby and then slams her foot on his.

He yelps in agony, grabbing his foot and falling on the ground.

"That's what you get!" she yells.

"Yeah!" Luke and Reggie exclaim.

"Uh, guys—" Alex stutters.

They turn around to an angry mister Trent. Great, she thinks, now she's getting the blame for what Bobby started!

At least Luke doesn't like like her. That would've been a disaster.

(She gets detention, but it's worth it. Bobby stops bothering her.)

—

(But then Luke steals her first kiss that summer when they're by the pool playing truth or dare because Kayla wants to be adventurous. She's been obsessed with the idea of kissing and pushes Luke and Julie to do it.

It's brief, light as a feather and kind of weird, but she doesn't hate it.

His face turns bright as a cherry and she's kind of embarrassed for a day, but then they're cool and just don't talk about it.)

—

Reggie's parents divorce when they're in the sixth grade and they hold many more sleepovers.

—

"Don't move," Julie orders, carefully putting toothpaste on his pimple, "it's gonna work, I promise."

Luke groans. "You promise? It's HUGE!"

"It really isn't," she lies, because it's probably as big as the Kilimanjaro.

"I wanted to be cool on the first day of middle school and now I have a pimple," he whines, falling back on her bed when she's done.

Capping her toothpaste, she shrugs. "You're cool... just with a pimple. We're still biking together, right?"

"Of course!"

—

She feels the first prick of jealousy when Luke is dubbed 'the cutest boy of seventh grade' and all the girls start swarming him or asking her what he likes.

Well, he likes rock music and poking snails and her mom's pies. Does that help them make Luke their boyfriend? She doesn't think so!

"They're stealing my friend!" Julie grumbles to Flynn as they're both watching Thea make a move, or whatever that means.

"Luke isn't gonna stop being your friend," Flynn reassures. "But boys are dumb. So, I don't know."

Luke feels his first hit of jealousy at the eighth grade spring fling dance when he sees Nick asking Julie to dance during some sappy Ed Sheeran song. He thinks she'll say no, but to his baffled surprise, she says yes! To Nick! Why would anyone want to dance with Nick?! Luke swears the kid eats his own boogers.

"Why is she dancing with Nick and not with me?" he nags, standing beside Alex and Reggie as they're hoarding food.

Reggie grins. "Jealous?"

"Uh, no!"

"Sure."

—

It kind of gets awkward after that.

In the summer between eighth and ninth — aka, the start of freaking high school! — they both undergo major bouts of puberty.

Luke gets a growth spurt and constantly has aching knees, Julie graduates from a training bra to an actual bra because she suddenly has boobs and she's scared it'll change things.

Now, she also looks different from the guys. They'll still like her, right?

Julie swaps her glasses for contact lenses since it's easier and Luke buys his first guitar from mowing lawns all summer long.

Because of that, he lost a lot of his baby fat.

Suddenly, her best friend is kind of… attractive.

—

Luke gets his first girlfriend in freshman year and it isn't Julie and she hates how it comes as a surprise to her that… well… it isn't her. It's Thea, of all people. Guess that one move she made in seventh grade paid off.

According to Luke, they go on dates to the movies sometimes, or hang out at the skatepark, and kiss when no one's looking.

"I've kissed plenty of girls," Reggie boasts, noting his Bible summer camp experience. "Catch up, Luke."

"Me and Thea kiss a ton!" he exclaims, but it doesn't sound convincing. "Like, a lot!"

Alex and Julie share a disgusted look from across the cafeteria table. He came out as gay this year to them and Julie doesn't like girls, so these conversations are useless to them.

"Can we talk about something else?" she whines. "This is boring!"

Luke shrugs. "Pearl Jam brought out a new album."

The one statement diverts the conversation completely, much to her enjoyment, until Thea walks to their table and steals Luke from them.

Julie sees red.

Alex asks her if she likes Luke during a quiet moment.

"No," she mutters. "Not like that."

"Okay."

"You don't believe me?"

"No... not really."

—

They break up after three months and right then, Julie and Nick get together. He's sweet and kind and smart and cute and when he kisses her, he's soft and careful. She likes it. She feels safe around Nick.

He teaches her a bit of lacrosse, she teaches him how to make empanadas.

It's clear Luke doesn't like him though.

"He's so boring, Julie," he says. "I don't know what you see in him."

"What did you see in Thea?" she challenges him.

"She was cute," he shrugs, "and nice. And she's a good kisser."

She smiles, victorious, and crosses her arms. "There you go. Your explanation."

His face sours. "I don't believe he's a good kisser."

"Want to try for yourself?"

He rolls his eyes. "No. Whatever. Have fun on that date of yours," he mutters the last, grabbing his shoes and walking out her bedroom.

She's angry and distracted during the entire date and she hates herself for realising weeks later that Luke was right. Nick is boring.

Sweet, but boring.

She breaks up with him after three months — as long as Luke and Thea were together — and suddenly she understands why Luke behaved the way he did.

Why she behaved the way she did.

They're playing truth or dare in someone's basement at a birthday party, all carefully drinking from a can of cheap beer, when Carrie dares Luke to kiss Julie.

He kisses her… and then they keep kissing.

The group hollers when they don't separate after three seconds and go insane when his hand slips up her cheek and it prolongs to ten.

Their faces are red and awed when they pull back and the others in the circle look like they've won the Olympics.

"Talk?" Luke rasps.

"Yes."

He grabs her hand and pulls her out the circle, everyone ooh-ing and ah-ing, thinking they're gonna do something scandalous. They find themselves in an empty hallway. Luke lets go of her hand and starts nervously scratching at his neck.

"So, uh, that kiss, uh—"

"I liked it," she blurts. It's the biggest risk of her life, but she takes it anyway. "What, uh, did you think?"

"Yeah!" He rushes forward, sudden surge of excitement. "Yeah, I liked— I really liked it. I- I wanna kiss you again."

She smiles. "You do?"

He blushes. "Yeah."

"Okay," she giggles.

And then he's right there, cradling her cheeks while she's holding onto the hem of his t-shirt and it's sweet and warm and way different than when she kissed Nick. It's more.

She really likes him. She really really really likes Luke to an insane degree.

They talk and share little kisses on the couch for the entire night, giddy and dopey. Her heart is bursting! It may be one of the best moments of her young life.

—

"Hey," he grins, kissing her square on the lips as he meets her by her locker.

It's the start of senior year. Only a few more months until freedom and the beginning and end of milestones, but Luke's a constant.

To her, he'll be a constant forever.

"Hey," she smiles, grabbing his hand. "Ready to go?"

"Ready when you are."

//////////////////////////////////////////////////

@blush-and-books @bluefirewrites @unsaid-emily @willexx @pink-flame @constantly-singing @ourstarscollided

#juke #julie and the phantoms #otp: i think we make each other better #jatp fanfiction

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kaistarus · 3 years

Text

Surprise First Dates

Pairing: Nishinoya X Reader

Words: 3.9K

Summary: Noya wants your first date to be a surprise. His plans have a track record for ending in worst case scenario, so fingers crossed your night doesn’t end in complete disaster.

Notes: This could be thought of as a sequel to this fic, although you don’t need to read it to enjoy this one. It ended up pretty up a little long... but I love Noya so what can I say. It was bound to happen :)

Masterlist // Ko-Fi

You kept your eyes glued to the sidewalk as you walked beside Noya on a late autumn night. In your fall jacket pockets you fiddled with the ends of your sleeves in an attempt to calm the irregular beating of your heart. Internally, you cursed yourself for behaving so awkwardly.

Briefly you glanced over to Noya to see how he was fairing, but tore your eyes away when they met his curious amber stare dead on. In your peripheral you saw him tighten his grip on the straps of his backpack he’d brought for some reason before clearing his throat.

“You, uh, look really pretty by the way.”

“Oh, um, thank you,” your cheeks warmed and you squeezed your eyes shut. You needed to snap out of this before Noya thought something was wrong. “So, where are we going?”

“Surprise.”

You looked back over with a raised brow, “Well, what are we doing?”

“Surprise.”

“Okay, well what’s in the backpack?”

He met your suspicious gaze with a half-assed glare, “do you know what surprise means?”

“Obviously. I’m just trying to guess if it’s illegal or not.”

He scoffed. “Like I would ever do something illegal.”

You deadpanned at his response and he smirked back with a mischievous glint in his eyes that left you all kinds of suspicious. The only thing you knew about this date was that he seemed really panicked yesterday when the forecast said it might rain. As you scanned the sky now, however, there wasn’t a cloud in sight. There was a bit of a chilled breeze, but that was to be expected this time of year.

“So…” Noya picked at the straps hanging down on the backpack, “how was your day?”

“It was good,” you smiled to yourself and kicked a small rock that appeared in your path. “I chose the book I’m gonna write about for the essay we have for Tuesday. Haven’t actually started it though.”

Noya whipped his head toward you with his eyes wide. “We have an essay!? What are you-” He froze in realization and slowly turned back toward his shoes. “I mean… Yeah, heh, I haven’t started that either.”

You bit your bottom lip to hold back a laugh and nodded shortly. The path you were taking started to become a little too familiar; you'd recognized it as one you took nearly every day. Although it wouldn’t make sense for Noya to be taking you there...

“So, how’s practice going? You have nationals soon, right?”

“It’s awesome!” A huge smile covered his face. “I’ve been practicing overhand receives and Rolling Thunder, of course. Kageyama, Shoyo, and Four Eyes were selected for training camps which is good for us-well, Shoyo didn’t. This guy snuck in, which is fucking hilarious and I’m so proud of him. Daichi was pissed though, holy shit.”

You smiled fondly as he ranted on which seemed to throw him off once he realized how animated he’d become. His cheeks turned pink when he turned to you and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I mean, it’s all good. I think we have a shot of doing really good this year.”

“That’s awesome,” you gave him a lopsided smile. “I can’t wait to watch you.”

“Really? You’re coming?”

“I mean, is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s more than okay.” You watched him smile to himself as he examined the path ahead. “I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to.”

“Of course I do.” You picked at the material of your sleeves again as your heart rate increased. “Hey, what’s a Rolling Thunder?”

“Oh, it’s when I receive the ball with one arm and then I… on the... “ He grimaced, “you know what? Nevermind.”

You raised an eyebrow, but decided it wasn’t worth pressing the matter. The school’s main building came into view in the distance, so it turned out you were right. He had been leading you toward school.

“I thought you didn’t like school?”

“Oh I hate school with every fiber of my being,” Noya confirmed before pulling a set of keys from his jacket, “but we’re not heading there.”

You looked at him wearily, but followed him past the hauntingly empty main building. Realization only hit you when you began cutting through the courtyard toward the athletics area. “Are we breaking into the volleyball gym?”

“It’s not breaking in if I have the key,” he said confidently, the keys jingling as he spun them around his finger. You hummed doubtfully at his unsound logic.

“You normally carry the gym key?”

“It’s usually Daichi, but he trusts me.” He said while you continued eyeing him with disbelief. “Fine, I agreed to finish late night cleaning for the next few weeks.”

“Gross,” you grimaced.

“Yeah, but it’s worth it.”

A smile crept onto your face as you watched Noya unlock the doors to the gymnasium-only failing three times before finding the right key. Noya bowed like a mock gentleman to gesture you into the gym, and you briefly wondered what could be so exciting about the volleyball gymnasium at night. Especially interesting enough that he would offer to do cleaning.

You bent down to slide your feet out of your outdoor shoes-setting them aside-before stepping onto the gym’s linoleum flooring before addressing Noya, “are we playing volleyball or something?”

It was really the only conclusion you could come to as you observed the room illuminated solely by the moonlight outside; the barred windows casting elongated shadows on the floor. It was eerie seeing the place normally filled with rambunctious boys so silent.

“Nah, I’m all volleyballed out for today,” Noya claimed, seated at the entrance to pull his sneakers off. “Besides, I’ve got tons of my own stuff at home, so we can do that anytime we want.”

Your chest tightened at the implication of his words, but his expression seemed nonchalant as he strolled past you toward a staircase that led to the overhang. Maybe he meant friends hanging out and playing volleyball together and you were the one who jumped to the dating conclusion. A blush crept up your neck as you focused intently on the hood of his sweatshirt while trailing behind him.

You needed to calm down. You weren’t even halfway through the first date.

You snuck a glance down at his free hand that swung carelessly beside him and wondered if it would be weird for you to grab it. People held hands on dates, right? Not that you had been on one, but that definitely was something that went along with dates. He was probably expecting it to happen too...

You furrowed your brow while probably overthinking something miniscule when you abruptly ran into Noya’s back.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep,” you answered while rubbing your aching nose. You realized Noya had led you to a door you’d never noticed on the far end of the viewing area. “Are we, uh, going in there? Where’s this lead?”

“Roof.” He unlocked the door more easily this time, once again signaling for you to enter first. You cocked your head to the side, mulling his answer over before narrowing your eyes at him.

“We’re definitely not allowed up there, Noya.”

“I have the keys though.” He said, jingling them for emphasis.

You groaned while debating the pros and cons of your situation. Cons were getting caught could get you in serious trouble with the school, while pros were you would get to continue your date with Noya. You let out a deep sigh before taking the first step up the staircase followed by Noya’s triumphant fist pump. You rolled your eyes fondly at how much of a freaking dork he was, but it still made your chest warm.

You were so screwed.

You opened the door at the top of the staircase with a nod of acceptance. The breeze was way chillier at that higher level and you wrapped your arms around yourself after stepping your socked-feet onto the frigid concrete roof. You made your way to the metal railing, which stung your hands at how cold it was as you looked over your small prefecture. The lights illuminated the darkness and even from this height you could admire how the street lamps decorated the dark.

“Okay, I’ll give. This is pretty awesome,” you looked over your shoulder adorning a smile that turned to confusion when you saw Noya in the center of the roof opening his backpack. “What are you doing?”

“Stuff,” he muttered, pulling out a folded piece of cotton fabric from his bag. You watched him puzzled as he shook it open to reveal a large blanket-dark red with volleyballs everywhere-and spread it across the ground.

You walked up to him as he kneeled down to straighten it all out and smirked, “cute blanket.” You teased.

“Shut up, my sister got it for me.” he grumbled, which only made you smile wider. Your cheeks were beginning to hurt with how much you’d been smiling that night.

After nodding to himself that the blanket was to his satisfaction Noya laid down, glanced up at you, and patted a space beside him. You tilted your head in confusion, but followed his lead by crawling near him and lying on your back.

A few moments of silence passed and you glanced over to Noya. His face was bright red and you furrowed your brow, puzzled. You turned back toward the sky to mull over your thoughts. Why was Noya so nervous all of a sudden? He’d been completely fine all night. If anything you’d been the one who was a nervous wreck.

You took a deep breath and just let yourself admire how beautiful the moon was. It was nearly full so it was bright enough that you go without a flashlight, but not enough to overpower the stars that speckled the ebony sky. You were fortunate to live in a smaller prefecture and not somewhere like Tokyo-even the smallest stars could shine bright in your sky.

You really had gotten lucky with the change in weather. It was a perfect night for-

“Are we stargazing?” You asked, whipping your head toward him so fast you nearly got whiplash. His mouth was set into a straight line and he nodded slowly while avoiding your eyes. Your jaw fell slack at the admission. “Shut. Up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” He said, his tone offended when he turned to you with a scrunched up nose.

“Sorry, that’s not what I-” You flopped back onto your back and let out a breathy laugh. “I’m just surprised.”

“Oh… a good surprised?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

You heard the smile in his voice and it set off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. For someone who you’d tried to convince yourself you hadn’t liked he was having an obnoxious affect on you tonight. You had an arm slung over your stomach while the other laid limply on the blanket and when you peeked down you noticed his was lying conspicuously close to yours, drumming his fingers anxiously against the ground.

You weren’t stupid. You could connect dots. You glared at your own hand as you begged it to move just several inches over, and cursed every second that it wouldn’t. You sighed in defeat and a shot of panic pulsed through you when Noya chuckled.

“What are you doing?”

You looked at his amused half-smile nervously, “what do you mean?”

“You looked like you were trying to poop.” Noya laughed lightly causing a blush to cover your face and you pulled that hand away embarrassed. His eyes widened at your reaction, “but like in a cute way.”

“Poop in a cute way?” You asked, dumbfounded at the concept.

“Yes?” He cringed at his answer before sighing and poking you in the bicep with puppy-dog eyes. “I’m sorry. Can you please put your hand back? I was trying to nonchalantly hold it after fifteen minutes of awkward tension.”

You pretended to contemplate before lying it back on the blanket. Instead of the promised fifteen minutes though Noya just grabbed your hand unexpectedly and your chest tightened in surprise. Your heart exploded at how weird it felt-not in a bad way, but in a comfortable and normal way. You liked how easily his fingers fit interlocked with yours and you nibbled on your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling like an absolute idiot.

“Want to see something really impressive?”

You hummed in agreeance, not trusting yourself to form proper sentences at the moment, and saw Noya point to the sky in your peripheral vision.

“So that really bright one. That’s the end of the little dipper,” He said with a nervous tint to his voice. “Which is kind of basic, but there are cooler ones like cygnus which is really just a sky umbrella. That’s those two over there for the bottom...” he pointed around while continuing to describe the sky, looking over every few moments to make sure you were following. You nodded in acknowledgment when you found the ones he spoke about and your heart skipped at the excited smile that would filter onto his face.

“My favorite is triangulum though because what kind of constellation is a triangle? Also, did you know Hercules is just a bunch of squiggles?” He scoffed while drawing a pattern into the sky with one eye closed. “Like, he’s a Disney hero. You’d think he’d get something cooler than that.”

“How do you know this?” You eventually asked, rolling onto your side to admire how nice he looked illuminated by the soft light cast from the moon. His hand in yours flexed and he turned toward you with a nervous smile.

“Would you believe that I have a random interest in stars that no one’s ever known about?”

“Not particularly.”

He laughed nervously and began fiddling with the blonde part of his hair, then eyed you carefully. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek while you mulled it over, “I suppose.”

He rolled onto his side, as well, and you gave his hand a light squeeze for encouragement. “I may or may not have studied the constellations.”

Your eyebrows shot to your hairline at the confession, “why would you--you hate homework.”

“It wasn’t homework,” he rolled his eyes. “I just… really wanted to impress you.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t know. Now it sounds stupid.”

“Noya…” You brought your conjoined hands forward to softly press your fist against his face, smushing his cheek. “I already think you’re cool.”

“Wait, seriously?” He leaned into your knuckles with a confused brow raised. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you laughed.

He let his eyes fall closed with a breathy laugh. As he nuzzled gently against your hand you let yourself truly live in the moment, take in the serene smile on his face and feel the softness of his cheek against your skin. It was so surreal seeing him calm like this-a complete flip from his usual chaotic behavior at school. Being able to see him truly at peace like this filled your chest with a sense of pride.

“I know I’m not like the best at all of this, but I…” An eye peeked open as he spoke and you felt yourself tensing to combat the nervousness in his voice. “I really want to try.”

His sudden confession hit you like a train and you fumbled over the right thing to say, but the words you wanted were stuck in your throat.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have-” He winced at himself. “It’s just I like you and I’m having a lot of fun so… but I understand if you don’t like me like-”

“You really like me?” You asked, hopefully. “You mean it, no bull shit?”

His eyebrows rose and he looked absolutely baffled. He released your hand-your heart sunk at the sudden cold-but he quickly reclaimed it, cradling the back while he pressed it against the center of his chest. You looked up in surprise when you felt his heart pounding rapidly against your palm. He stared back at you with a determined gleam in his eyes, but his cheeks were a rosey shade of pink.

“No bull shit.”

He looked at you so earnestly and all you could was stare back in awe. This idiot just barrelled through every ounce of nerve he had and it was all you could do to maintain eye contact. You felt his grip loosening as the hope leaked from his eyes with each second you remained silent. After everything he’d done-the surprise date, studying to impress you, trying to ask you out again-there’s no way you would be the reason this didn’t work out.

Your gaze flickered down to his lips as they moved quickly with nervous chatter that you were too in your head to hear. He deserved something equally bold, you thought, as your hand resting on his chest fisted the material of his sweatshirt, beginning to pull him forward.

“But my sister was like, ‘Yuu no one will like you if you can’t match your socks’ and I was like ‘get out of the bathroom I’m trying to take a-” He paused with a deer-in-headlights stare as you began leaning toward him. “Are you about to punch me?”

You blinked in surprise at his conclusion. “What?”

“Oh my god, were you going to kiss me?” His mouth went slack as a blush crept onto your cheeks. “Holy fuck. Okay, wait-no, don’t wait. I’m ready-wait-I’ve never kissed anyone so don’t have high expecta-”

You rolled your eyes before leaning the rest of the way to press your lips against his. The angle was pretty awkward, your bicep hurt from the awkward position you were propping yourself into, but it was definitely your new favorite way of shutting him up. The kiss probably would have been better if Noya wasn’t all tensed up and not participating though.

When you pulled back you were comforted that Noya’s face was equally as crimson as yours probably was, except he was completely spaced out. You cocked your head and waved a hand in front of his face, jumping in surprise when he jolted up to sitting.

“That wasn’t fair,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger down at you. “I wasn’t ready.”

“Noya, you literally said, ‘I’m ready’.” You snorted, pushing yourself up to sit cross-legged across from him.

“Yeah, but I was still talking!” He said frantically, leaning close into your personal bubble.

“You’re always talking,” you pushed his face back, but he grabbed your hand with pleading eyes. Your heart was fighting hard to beat out of your ribcage from the kiss alone and him being this close was going to give you cardiac arrest.

“Well, I always have something important to say.”

You shook free of his grip and flopped onto your back again. It was your easiest escape route from the conversation. If you had to keep looking at him you were probably going to pass out or something pathetic.

You tried to calm yourself by searching for one of the constellations Noya had explained to you earlier in the night, but was rudely interrupted when Noya’s face replaced the sky. You took a sharp inhale when he placed his hands on either side of your head to help prop himself above you. His gaze dragged slowly across your face with hooded eyes and you decided that he really was intent on killing you that night.

He opened and closed his mouth several times before finally, barely above a whisper, he asked, “can I kiss you?”

Before you could even finish nodding he was pressing his lips against yours. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly sunk into the moment absorbed in the contrast now that you were both fully participating.

As his lips moved slowly against yours you anxiously struggled with what you were supposed to do with your arms. He had shifted onto his forearms so the warmth from his chest radiated across your own, and as your heartbeat in a frenzy you wondered if he could feel it’s rhythm every time your chests pressed together. His fingers became interwoven in your hair and instinctually you gripped at the cotton fabric near his waist to keep yourself grounded.

You realized then that these careful, long kisses with Noya under the moon’s glow might be the most romantic moments in your entire life.

Eventually you had to pull apart, only enough to lay your foreheads against each other while taking exhausted breaths. When your eyes met you both took a moment to take each other in before he broke out into a dopey smile that you couldn’t help but mirror.

“So,” he started casually. “Does this mean you like me too?”

“No, Noya,” you began sarcastically, bringing your hands up to smash his cheeks together. “I spend all of my Saturday’s making out with random people on rooftops.”

“Well, I don’t know.” He gave a half-assed glare that did no damage with his face smushed together. “I just want to make sure I don’t misread anything.”

“I don’t know how you could possibly misread this,” you snorted, dropping your arms back to your sides.

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of,” he said, propping himself up while wiggling his eyebrows.

You snorted, pushing against his chest to roll him off of you which he did with an exaggerated whine. A bubble of laughter left you and your head rolled to the side to face him with a bright smile.

“I like you,” you clarified for him, chest tightening at the sun rivaling smile that filled his face. “A lot.”

“Cool,” he let out a breathy laugh and swung an arm over his eyes. You saw him biting down his lip while the corners of his mouth fought their way into a smile. The butterflies in your stomach were in a frenzy over how absolutely adorable he was. You still had a hard time processing that this was actually happening to you.

Noya then turned back to you with a more mischievous look in his eye, “you realize what this means, right?”

“No?”

“It means I get to tell everyone that you have a crush on me,” he smirked, seeming incredibly satisfied with himself.

“Oh no,” your hand flew to your mouth in mock horror, “but my reputation.”

“If anything, I’m going to improve your reputation tenfold.” He rolled onto his stomach so he could grab one of your hands again which you offered to him willingly. Noya’s adoring smile as he played with your fingers made it hard to keep teasing him.

“That’s the opposite of what’s going to happen,” you watched him fondly and your clearly content demeanor didn’t match the mocking words. “Is it too late to take it all back?”

“Oh yeah,” he said, interlocking your fingers together. “You like me. I heard it, and now I’m going to brag about it to anyone within hearing distance.”

“No,” you whined. “You’re the worst.”

“Probably,” He laughed, dragging your conjoined hands to rub the back of your hand against his cheek, “but you get to deal with me now.”

Your eyes softened as he nuzzled against your hand. You couldn’t argue with him on that one, and truth be told you didn’t even hate the idea of everyone knowing about your feelings for Noya. At that moment, you sort of wanted to scream about them over the gymnasium rooftop’s railings for all of Miyagi to hear about.

So, if he wanted to tell every person he ran into that he was officially your problem then who were you to stop him.

#nishinoya yuu #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya yū #nishinoya yu #nishinoya headcanons #nishinoya oneshot #nishinoya fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #nishinoya imagine

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gabxbyr · 3 years

Text

See You Again (English version) Newt x Reader

(English is not my native language so excuse me if there is any mistake)

Finally they had made it. The Right Arm, the end of the Scorch, the end of hell, the end of WICKED. They didn't believe in it anymore and yet here they were, all sitting on the rocks high above the ground, contemplating the people who were gradually packing up the camp in order to leave tomorrow at dawn.

Y/N had delicately placed her head on Newt's shoulder in order to make the most of their newly acquired freedom. She could finally allow herself this simple gesture without having the impression that it was not the moment. Indeed the blond had confessed his love for her just before they fought the grievers to get out of the Maze but with the battle, Chuck's death -at this thought the girl's heart tightened- and the crossing of the Scorch they had never had the opportunity to live their relationship fully. And here, with her cheek on his warm skin and her nostrils impregnated with his masculine scent, she felt like she belonged. On top of that she was with her friends and that's all that mattered. Rather with a part of her friends sadistically reminded her brain as if to tarnish her sudden joy... It is true that many of her companions had died so that they could get there and she could not forget it. First there was Ben, a close friend of Minho and her, as they were all runners; then it was Alby's turn, their leader and their guide, to disappear. Then Chuck's sacrifice, which she still had a hard time getting over -maybe not as hard as Thomas, but still- and at the same time Gally's death, which saddened her, and then the last death, Winston's. Y/N still remembered his death and the way he had been treated. Y/N still remembered his screams when those damn cranks had lacerated his belly and that tragic gunshot that meant the death of their friend. At the thought she couldn't suppress a shiver.

-Y/N, Newt's voice suddenly rang out, waking her from her lethargy. Are you all right ?

He was surely aware of her silence and her shivers.

-Yes do not worry, she answered by playing gently with the fingers of the blond whom she fixed with a nostalgic face. I just thought of all the sacrifices which we had to endure to arrive here and of all the close ones that we lost.

Newt looked at the girl pressed up against him with a mixture of love, compassion and sadness in his brown orbs. He understood exactly what she was getting at, after all Alby was one of his best friends and he would never know they were out of the Maze. Yet he also knew that if he could do it again he wouldn't change a thing if it meant he could be here with her. It was with this thought that he gently lifted her face with his fingers under her chin to plunge his eyes into her Y/E/C ones.

-I know how you feel, we all feel it here. But you know as well as I do that we wouldn't be here without them, and maybe what I'm about to say will sound completely selfish, but I'm glad we're both here.

As an answer she gave him one of her sincere and radiant smiles that illuminated her beautiful face damaged by the dust and the sun. The blond wanted to bend down to kiss her sweet lips but Minho didn't count on it and took the girl by the armpits and made her turn in the air.

-Did I hear Princess depressed ?

-Minho ! Y/N shouted, ripped from the sweet embrace of the former second in command. Put me down right now or I swear I'll throw up on you !

-Better you throw up on me than on your loser boyfriend's mouth, said the asian boy proud of him. Don't you think ?

-Her loser boyfriend fucks you.

Newt had wanted to take a stern voice but he failed miserably far too happy to see his girlfriend and his best friend playing like children and laughing so lightly. It reminded him of the happy times he had spent on the Glade away from the horror of the outside world. Frypan must have been thinking the same thing because while the two of them were still running around behind each other the former Galder's cook approached the blond.

-I miss the Glade.

-Me too, Newt admitted. But now that it's all over I'm happy.

-Yes, it's all over, Fry murmured with a smile.

As the two troublemakers returned to sit with them breathless from their childishness Thomas arrived to join them, Chuck's statuette clutched in his fingers. There was a sudden silence as nostalgic thoughts undoubtedly resurfaced.

-If only Chuck could have seen this.

It was the brown man's voice, full of immeasurable sadness. Slowly Y/N put his hand on his shoulder in compassion as Newt cleared his throat.

-He would be so proud of you, Tommy.

The nickname made Thomas smile softly as he murmured a "yeah" in response. He missed little Chuck terribly, but was grateful to have Newt, Minho, Y/N, Frypan and Teresa by his side. He wondered where Teresa could be. He felt the need to see her and to hold her in his arms as the blond did with his friend. He was going to ask where she was but he was cut by Frypan who greeted Aris by shouting.

-l kinda like that kid.

Minho gave a septic look to Fry showing his disagreement with him.

-Yeah. I still don't trust him, though.

His remark made the blockards laugh, recognizing the typical suspicious behavior of the Asian.

-Minho in all his splendor, ladies and gentlemen.

The former keeper of the runners looked at the only girl of the group by raising his eyebrows then he smirked which never announces anything good.

-You, he began, pointing at her. Believe me I smell you ! You smell like klunk !

Suddenly a mini scream was heard coming out of his mouth as Y/N had just hit him in the shoulder.

-I call mistreatment of Asians racism, Frypan said.

-Thank you bro, Minho thanked him, pretending to cry. We understand each other !

After a new laugh from the blockards, Thomas remembered the question he wanted to ask before they debated Aris. He then turned his jet-black eyes towards his comrades.

-Hey, where's Teresa ?

Y/N frowned a little at the name. From the moment this girl arrived, she had found her strange and her doubts had been reinforced during their crossing of the Scorched Earth, but except for Minho and Newt, whenever she talked about it with someone, they told her that her suspicions were simply based on a feeling of jealousy because she was no longer the only girl in the group. Nonsense! The proof was that she got along very well with Brenda. But the girl with Y/H/C hair preferred to keep quiet and ignore the question unlike her boyfriend.

-Yeah, the blonde answered, pointing to a sharp rock in the distance behind them. She went up there.

The brunet thanked him with a nod before leaving hurriedly to meet her. They were all aware of Thomas' feelings towards his blue-eyed goddess and although the others didn't care -except maybe Minho who didn't hold Teresa in his heart- Y/N had a bad feeling.

This was confirmed when shortly afterwards bergs belonging to the WICKED began to arrive in the distance. The girl's heart began to pound ferociously as adrenaline and fear mingled within her. They had only just regained their fucking freedom!

The gladers only reacted when the first bombs hit the camp floor.

-Let's get moving, Minho yelled at them as he got up and headed downhill right into the action.

Y/N followed him after a last loving and fearful glance at Newt. Screams, blood and fire surrounded them now as they made their way to Harriet and Vince in search of weapons to fight with. Vince handed the gladers guns.

-Can you use these ?

They nodded and prepared to fire.

-Cover me, shouted the leader of the Right Arm.

So it was with fear but adrenaline that they stood around the van containing the machine gun and began firing at the WICKED soldiers. The rage of life they felt left little room for guilt, even though they would have deaths on their conscience.

-There are too many of them, Minho despaired.

They were running out of munitions and the asian's realization gave them an extra wave of fear... This was the end, WICKED was winning. As Y/N searched her pockets for ammunition she heard Vince's deep voice ringing in her ears just before she felt a wave of electricity run through every inch of her body and then she fell into unconsciousness.

When they woke up, the gladers were in a line, among the other WICKED subjects, kneeling and weakened. Y/N stood between Minho and Newt and looked at Rat Man with all the rage she felt. She had to look away, however, when a soldier came up behind her, scanned her neck and announced.

-A3.

This is what she was reduced to. A fucking number, like an animal. They were dehumanizing them as if they were nothing more than livestock. WICKED was intentionally forgetting that they were just teenagers. This realization made her clench her fists and teeth. Her impulsiveness was getting the better of her.

-Where's Thomas, she heard Rat Man ask.

And before she could stop herself, her rebellious and impulsive side surfaced.

-Up your ass, you rat-faced bastard !

A silence was created on the battlefield. Newt looked at her reproachfully as Janson turned red with anger. He approached the girl and before the gladers could react Rat Man took her by the arm and threw her into the middle of them all. And as she tried to get up from the ground, she was kicked in the abdomen, making her regret her stupid behavior.

-You want to play it smart ? Well you're going to regret it kid, he then turned to one of his colleagues. Did you say that we had almost all of them ?

Y/N saw the guard nod as she began to get really scared.

-Good, Janson seemed to be pleased as he loaded his gun and pointed it at her. I guess no one will mind if I kill one of them then ?

The salt-and-pepper haired man was preparing to shoot under the incessant shouting of the gladers and the threats of Newt when Thomas appeared.

-I'm here.

Janson then diverted his attention from the young girl who went to snuggle in the arms of her boyfriend. The latter held her against him as if his life depended on it.

-Everything's fine, he whispered in her ear, trying to reassure himself. I am there.

During this time the brown one also took a blow of the part of the Rat Man then was placed at the sides of Minho who looked at him dazed.

-Why didn't you run ?

-I'm tired of running.

His statement seemed to cast a sort of veil of hope over the blockards and Y/N lifted herself a little from the blond to give Thomas a discreet smile. He was right, they should stop running. However, her smile quickly faded when another berg appeared and landed a few meters away from their position, bringing a sense of fear back to the group.

Ava Paige. The woman with platinum blonde hair who was supposedly dead and was the head of the WICKED. Their worst enemy was standing in front of them, staring at them like the test subjects they were in her eyes. She ordered Janson to start the boarding and that's how the different teenagers were dragged towards the berg. So far, none of the gladers had been taken. However, Ava stopped in front of them and made Thomas stand up.

-Good evening, Thomas.

Was she making fun of him? She put him in a damn Maze, sent him to a city full of cranks and hunted him down to say a simple good evening ? The only thing the brunette could think at that moment was "go to hell" but he preferred to keep quiet and look at her, a defiant glare stuck to his face. However all trace of insolence flew away when Teresa appeared at the side of this woman.

-I don't believe it, said Minho, standing up.

-Teresa, Frypan murmured in astonishment.

-But what's going on here ? asked Newt lost.

-She's with the enemy, Thomas suddenly said in a voice devoid of emotion.

Y/N couldn't stop a nervous laugh from coming out of her lips as a huge hatred took place in her heart.

-I knew it, she whispered, realizing she was right all along. You are a fucking traitor !

The blond realizing that his girlfriend was once again going to put herself in a sensitive situation placed his arm in front of her as if to protect her and prevent anyone from hurting her. He would not allow it.

That was the moment Janson chose to intervene.

-Teresa's always had an evolved appreciation of the greater good. Once we restored her memories, it was only a matter of time.

-I'm sorry, she began as the gladers looked at her accusingly. I had no choice. This is the only way. We have to find a cure.

Thomas lowered his head feeling his heart tear as the girl he was in love with drove the stake of betrayal deeper into his heart. He wanted so badly for this to be just a nightmare yet he knew it was real.

-And a cure for your bullshit ? Minho interjected with his usual sarcasm. Didn't you find it ?

-Drop it, Minho, added Y/N. All it would take is a little loyalty and humanity.

The dark-haired girl looked down but ignored them royally as Ava confirmed her words. The latter was trying to convince them that she was not a monster and that she just needed more time. But Marie, the camp doctor, spoke up.

-And more blood !

-Hello, Marie, said the blonde woman as the female doctor approached. I hoped we'd meet again. I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances.

-I'm sorry about a lot of things too, Marie cut her off. But not this. At least my conscience is clear.

Unlike Teresa, Y/N thought furtively before concentrating on Ava's answer.

-So is mine.

A shot rang out, cutting short the exchange between the two women. And the said Mary collapsed on the ground under the desperate cries of Vince and the murderous glance of Janson. While looking at this scene with teary eyes, Thomas understood what he had to do. At this thought his breathing became more panting and the tension in his muscles more oppressive. He waited for the WICKED to begin boarding them before pulling out a bomb and threatening to detonate it.

-Everyone stand back, Janson ordered his soldiers, his stress mounting. Hold your fire !

-Let them all go, Thomas shouted as Rat Man tried to talk him down.

Janson, Ava, and even Teresa all began to talk to him to make him listen to reason, not realizing that they were only reassuring him of his decision. Moreover, the gladers, at first overwhelmed by the events, began to understand why their friend was doing this and it was resigned that Minho came to Thomas' side and nodded to show his support. He was followed closely by Frypan, Newt and Y/N who hold hands with the blond man.

-We're with you, Thomas, said the latter, taking his girlfriend in his arms for a last embrace.

-Do it Thomas, added the asian to cover the protests of Teresa and Ava.

-We are ready, made Fry by holding the shoulder of the brown.

-It's the end, finished Y/N by pressing a little more strongly the blond in her arms.

After a last glance towards his friends Thomas turned to Teresa.

-We're not going back there, he declared while shaking before preparing to release the bomb. It's the only way.

Suddenly, as Ava Paige's scream resonated as if to prevent the explosion, a horn went off, stopping Thomas in his tracks. It was Jorge who drove like a madman into one of the WICKED helicopters, leaving the members of the Right Arm the opportunity to disperse and defend themselves.

-Are you all right ? asked Newt, concerned about the well-being of his beloved.

For all answer Y/N nodded her head before joining the others and suddenly getting down on the ground while Thomas had just thrown the bomb on the members of the inter-governmental organization. As they got up, they went in search of weapons to fight with. Brenda was defending them from the top of the cliffs like a sniper. She had managed to hit Janson in the shoulder, which made Y/N smile and find a gun. Hope made her heart beat again and gave her enough adrenaline to fight.

As for Vince, he went back to his machine gun, shooting at the WICKED soldiers and at the same time quenching his thirst for revenge for Marie's death. It was total chaos. The gladers were running for cover, covered by Minho and Y/N who were the only two of the group to have acquired weapons. They found some debris to hide behind about hundred meters away.

-Keep going, the asian shouted. We got you !

-Be careful ! Newt asked worriedly as they ran to their hiding place.

-Don't worry about us, the girl tried to reassure him.

Thomas suddenly arrived running, he passed behind his two friends to join the others. It was the last one they could retreat. Y/N then began to run towards her friends when she realized that the asian did not follow her.

-Minho, what are you doing ? she shouted to him already six meters away from him.

-Go ahead, go ahead, he replied, shooting at a soldier. I'll catch up with you !

She continued her race trusting her best friend when she saw him taking an electrifying ball of the WICKED and falling on the ground shaking of spasms. She shouted his name and asked him to get up and join her. She heard her friends in the distance doing the same but the former keeper of the runners was close to sink in the unconsciousness. She then turned her gaze to her friends in the distance and then to Mihno who was beginning to be carried away. One last time she looked into Newt's chocolate eyes and mouthed a final "I love you" as he understood her intention and shouted at her to stop. It was too late, she had made her decision, we don't abandon our friends. She then faced the asian and started to run towards him as fast as she could. She could feel her heart racing as she shot at the two guards holding her friend. Once she reached him she let out a sigh of relief and with great effort and a few more drops of sweat she managed to lift Minho off the ground. She then looked up at her friends' hiding place and began to sprint. However, as she saw the hopeful looks on her friends' and Newt's faces, she felt an excruciating sting in her back and electricity paralyzing her. She then fell on the sand and dust while letting out a cry of agony which was replaced very quickly by the cry of despair of her favorite blond boy.

The latter seeing the girl he loved being taken away by the WICKED wanted to intervene but his friends understanding that it was over held him back with tears in their eyes and their hearts in pieces. And it was under their desperate looks that the berg enclosing their friends started to fly away while Janson threw them a last triumphant smile while holding firmly the unconscious body of Y/N in his arms.

-Bastards, Newt shouted, on the verge of a nervous breakdown. You bastards ! Bring them back ! Come back ! Give her back to me !

Thomas went over to him to put his hand on his shoulder, but as surprising as it may seem, the blond threw himself into his arms and cried against his shoulder. Usually the second in command kept everything to himself and did not share his sorrows. He never expressed his sadness, but this was too much for him to bear. When Y/N had arrived in the block just after his suicide attempt, she had been a breath of fresh air for him. She had been his little dose of hope and he needed her. He couldn't lose her.

-Tommy, he said in a firm voice, looking into Thomas' wet eyes. Promise me we'll get them back.

-I promise, Newt.

Masterlist

#newt x reader #newt x y/n #newt imagine #newt x oc #tmr newt #newt #the maze runner #the scorch trials #the death cure #the maze runner imagine

33 notes · View notes

rohad93 · 4 years

Text

Moonlit Masquerade: Jokers Wild Pt 1

This is rated T for Violence and Blood

Luz is sitting at her desk, working on her homework from her plant track class.

She has a pretty easy time in plants, it’s a lot like gardening most of the time, though the plants have a lot more eyes… or teeth...but she digresses. She has Willow too, who is at the top of the track and is always willing to repeat spells for her so she can try to glean glyphs from them. She’s managed a couple, she’s still working on perfecting them so it always does what she wants, the part that makes plant magic so hard is plants are living things, and the ones on the Isles sometimes have wills of their own if you don’t exert the right kind of control. She’s had a few go haywire and nearly strangled herself with vines last week trying to get them to form a net.

That one still needed work…

All part of living in the Isles though. With every week that goes by in the Boiling Isles, she finds herself more and more acclimated to it, sometimes it feels like she's lived here all her life.

Her bedroom, which once was just a spare room where she slept on the floor in a sleeping bag, now looks like she's been there for years.

All of Eda's junk is gone, replaced with a bed and a desk, covered in framed photos of Gus, Willow, King, and Eda; even Lilith. Her photo of her and her mom sits on the bedside table, close by, along with the photo of her and Amity she took on their first date and a new one of all of them on the beach at Amity’s birthday a couple of weeks ago.

A dresser sits in the corner, filled with new clothes because she could only keep wearing the same ones she brought for 'summer camp' for so long, especially now that fall is here. She's pretty sure she's having a growth spurt too. She realized last week she now has no problem reaching the cabinets in the kitchen, unlike almost five months ago when she first arrived.

For the foreseeable future, she is a permanent denizen of the Isles, so it only makes sense to pick up on her home's history too.

She’s started taking extra lessons with Lilith about the general history and culture of the Isles while they all learn glyph magic together. Lilith will lecture about the history of things and Luz is enthralled by it, which is probably the only reason Eda only rolls her eyes and lets her go on. Though she does throw in her own brand of commentary often. Usually saying why something Lilith is saying is dumb or outdated, much to the older’s annoyance, but they very rarely get into anything truly heated so it's become a kind of Sunday night routine at the owl house. King usually joins them too. Adding in his own two snails whenever he sees fit.

Much to her delight, when she can, Amity has started to join them. She's started practicing some of Luz's glyphs; the portals are especially useful.

Things are still very tense between her and Lilith, who keeps trying, and Amity mildly accepts the efforts, she's still very terse and short with the older witch much of the time, which makes Luz frown, but she keeps it to herself.

She and Amity have had this talk. Amity will try, but by no means has forgiveness been given, which Lilith seems to understand and accept.

They had a private talk after Amity's birthday weekend, she doesn't ask Amity about it, much as she wants to, and Amity doesn't offer an explanation.

Sometimes she wants to talk, and sometimes she doesn't, that's fine. She and Amity have come to that understanding well over the last two and a half months they've been dating.

They know the other is there and will come if they need them.

It's weird to Luz sometimes, having someone she knows is always in her corner, that she can come to without question.

Before she came to the Isles, she had her mom, even though she never really understood her and was gone a lot, and now she has Eda, but that's different. She knows Eda will always back her up, protect her, but it's different from Amity. She looks up to Eda, and while it's not that she doesn't admire Amity, she does, it’s just in a different way.

She would try to protect Eda just as much as she does for her, but it's just a different dynamic, she's not sure how to put it into words other then Eda is like her mom, while she and Amity are equals, they depend on each other, Eda, as much as she loves her, doesn't depend on Luz.

She has Gus and Willow too, and that’s a lot closer but still different. She can’t really explain why. Eda says it’s because she doesn’t make out with her other friends, which makes her make a face. While that’s true, she’s pretty sure that’s not it either. As much as she trusts Gus and Willow, which is a lot, sometimes she just doesn’t feel comfortable sharing some things with them, or anyone, except her girlfriend.

Something she’ll have to puzzle out another day.

“Hey Luz, Amity’s here!” Eda yells up the stairs and Luz grins, jumping up.

“Coming!” she yells back as she pulls on her shoes and grabs her new Hexside hoodie off the hanger on the back of the door before she runs out. Her jeans make loud scratching noises as she runs down the stairs, not that her loud thumping wasn’t going to alert everyone in the house she was coming already.

She hops over the last few steps to land on the floor and smiles at Amity who is standing in the living room with her arms crossed but smiling at her in black pants and a matching black hoodie with a bright purple pentagram on the front surrounded by runes.

“Hey, cutie.” She grins, trotting over to kiss Amity hello before she pulls her hoodie on.

“Ready to go?” she asks, her blush at the complement tempered by watching Luz struggle to put her head through the right hole. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the hem, helping right the blue hoodie till Luz’s head popped out with a grin.

“Yup!”

“You two have fun, don’t do anything I would do, and if ya do, don’t get caught!” Eda smirked and the two grin.

“Bye, Mom.” she only pauses slightly when the word comes out of her mouth but Eda just smiles and gives them a little two-finger wave from the couch.

“See ya later, Kids.”

They leave the owl house, walking away quickly before Hooty can really get going about the squirrel he ate that morning.

Luz takes hold of one of Amity’s hands and shoves the other in her hoodie pocket, it’s chilly today and the leaves are falling from the trees more and more every day.

“So…, do you want to talk about that?” Amity asks after a few seconds, that’s the first time she’s seen Luz make that slip in person, though she knows it's happened several other times. Luz just shrugs. She still feels selfish for it, thinking of Eda as a parent, for never wanting to go back to the world of her birth, regardless of whether or not it's actually possible at the moment, but she's working more and more every day to come to terms with her feelings about never wanting to leave the Isles; about considering this her real home.

“I mean, I still feel a little bad when I do it, but it’s been happening more and more lately… and I dunno, I guess I’m just starting to get used to it? Seeing Eda like an adopted mom. She is a lot like my mom… I mean, you know, kinda,” she laughs.

“Your personality would make more sense if Eda was your mom.” Amity smirks.

“And what does that mean?” Luz grins, nudging her playfully.

“Your general disregard for rules and danger are very ‘Eda’," she says matter of factly with a grin.

"I don't know what you're referring to," she says with mock haughtiness, sticking her nose in the air.

"Oh? I have a list prepared then." Amity clears her throat dramatically and holds up her free hand and begins counting off on her fingers.

"You broke into the conformatorium to steal a paper crown when we first met you snuck into Hexside pretending to be an abomination…"

"You're the one who almost got me dissected that day, otherwise it would have been fine." Luz cocked a brow at her. Amity pursed her lips.

"Okay, I'll give you a by on that one, but then you animated the entire owl house and took it on a joyride, you tried to fight Odabin as 'Luzura'." She smirked, glancing at her out of the side of her eye, and Luz pinked. "You tried to steal from the Emperor, then fought him and Lilith, challenged Boscha to a grudgby match when you didn't even know how to play the game, you stole…"

"Borrowed!" Luz corrected.

"...my training wand and shot a Slitherbeast with a fire spell…," Amity continued as though she hadn't been interrupted. "Speaking of Slitherbeasts, you almost got yourself eaten picking thornberries for my birthday cake!"

Luz chuckled, guess she was still mad about that one.

"Then you deliberately put yourself in danger by taking my place as grom queen…"

"You let me!" Luz accused.

"I didn't want everyone to see my worst fear was getting rejected by you and know I had a crush on you!" she argued while Luz just grinned at her.

"Aw, you had a crush on me."

"We are literally dating…" Amity gives her a deadpan look and holds up their intertwined hands.

"Yeah, but still…!" she laughed as Amity rolled her eyes, but she's smiling too.

"So, yes, you have a tendency to ignore danger and rules, just like Eda."

"Well, I guess I picked the right teacher and adoptive mom then." She grins. Amity just shakes her head as they walk through the woods toward town.

"Where’s Ed and Em?" She asks as they get closer to town.

"They said they'd meet us there." She shrugs. She tries not to worry about all the trouble her siblings have a tendency to get into when left to their own devices.

When they're just outside of town Amity reluctantly pulls her hand out of Luz's and misses the warmth immediately. Luz pouts and shoves her hand into her pocket with the other.

They meet Ed and Em just outside town on the main road.

"Hey, Luz," the twins call in unison as they approach and Luz grins sticking up a hand to high five both of them.

The twins view Luz like another little sister, she’s good to Amity and means a lot to her, which means she means a lot to them.

They also like to privately tease Amity that they may as well start now since she's gonna be their sister-in-law someday. They delight at how impossibly red she turns when they say it, but say nothing about how happy the idea seems to make her simultaneously even as she yells at them that they haven’t even been dating a year yet.

It's a chilly Saturday as they follow along behind the twins through the market. It's not their first choice, their first choice would be of course, to be able to go anywhere they want and be an obvious couple, impossible as that is right now, but they wanted to go to the market, and they'd been to town alone together several times this week already and the twins needed some stuff anyway, so it makes a good cover.

They decide to stop and eat lunch at the Redstone bakery, which also sells a variety of sandwiches. Luz still doesn't know what's in it exactly, but she's had it several times and knows she can eat it, and it's tasty; so it really doesn't matter to her. Amity still stands by, watching her carefully anytime she tries something new in case she has some kind of reaction, which really, has only happened three times but it is a possibility, and Amity is nothing if not prepared, and one has to be extra prepared when it comes to Luz.

Both Clawthorne sisters think she might grow more tolerant the longer she lives here and her body grows accustomed to it.

She hopes so, for all the weird foods, there are just as many tasty looking ones she wants to try. It's not like she didn't have allergies in the human world, being lactose intolerant.

They eat and talk, Ed and Em talking animatedly about a prank they played on two other upperclassmen earlier in the week.

Apparently they embarrassed them in front of the entire illusion track during a presentation that had them running from the room to the entire classes laughter.

Amity rolls her eyes at that and Luz nods along, half-listening, distracted by her food and her girlfriend, who's holding her hand under the table, slowly running her thumb back and forth across her knuckles.

Luz is stuffed by the time her sandwich is gone, as well as the second half of Amity's, she'd slid to her when she was done. Where Luz ate like a horse, Amity did not, but she still has the thornberry muffin sitting in front of her, and as much as she wants to eat it, she might pop if she does. It won't go to waste though.

She slides it across the table to Amity, who looks at it before smiling at her and takes it. They must be looking at each other in what Eda calls 'that gross gooey way' because Emira pipes up.

"You two need more couple friends," she says, rolling her eyes at them.

Amity frowns at her.

"Ignoring the fact that we literally can't tell people we're a couple, why do we need more couple friends?" she looks at her sister skeptically. Before she can say anything Edric jumps in with a witty remark, or at least what he thinks is witty.

"Because you're on a double date with us," he teased.

Amity scowls at that and Luz smirks. Normally, she stays clear of these back and forths between the Blight siblings, she's not as quick-witted as the twins or Amity, but today she can't help herself.

"Well, if this is a double date, you're the only one here on a date with their sister," she shoots back.

Edric's face drops, while Amity and Emira burst into peals of laughter.

They laugh at him for a solid minute before they can even speak.

"Oh, that was a good one. You walked right into that," Emira cackled, wiping at a tear. Edric crossed his arms and pouts.

Amity is still snickering when she glances back at Luz, who winks and Amity's hand squeezes hers under the table.

"Anyway, I was going to say, so Ed and I don't have to watch you two be so sickeningly romantic, but now I think I just need to meet someone so I don't have to be Ed's date," she snickers and Ed scowls at her.

When lunch is finished they wander back out into the market. It's crowded the way it usually is on Saturday.

Just as they cross a street Edric stops and smirks, looking at something across the street.

“See those guys over there?” He points across the market at two guys standing at a stall looking at something. One is tall and blonde, the other a little shorter but he has a bright green mohawk that Luz doesn’t know how she missed, but then again, this is the Boiling Isles. Just ten minutes ago she saw a guy with wings and a briefcase shopping for pet demons, so…

“What about them?” Amity asks.

“Those are the guys we embarrassed Friday,” Emira laughs.

“Oh boys!” Edric yells waving and the two look up and see them. The twins just grin and wave as the other two scowl darkly at them and walk off into the crowded market. The twins snicker and Amity shakes her head. Someday her brother and sister are going to give themselves problems with their tricks and mean pranks.

They continue browsing for a while, looking over the different wares offered at the stalls, there are a lot of regular merchants in the same spots every day but there are always a bunch of new ones too, selling all manner of weird and exotic things that some days Luz can’t even guess at. It's become a game for her and Amity to wander around and Luz to guess at the uses for things and Amity to affirm or correct her. Just something fun they like to do together at the market.

Some large guy with horns and two mouths is shouting across the market, advertising his wares for something that makes light with no magic.

“Pfft, I have glyphs for that.”

“That’s still magic, Luz.” Amity glances at her.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t take energy like when you cast spells. I can make glyphs all day long so long as I have paper.” She goes to emphasize this by pulling out her pad, but as she pats her pockets, she realizes she doesn’t have it.

“What’s wrong?

“I guess I left my glyphs and pad at home, didn’t think I’d need them for our date,” she says with a shrug and then grins. “I know you’d protect me.” She nudges Amity who rolls her eyes even as she smiles and nudges back as the four walk along the street.

There are few people in this section of the market, so they don’t have to whisper to each other.

“I thought you were MY fearless champion?” she teases, and then snorts as Luz stops suddenly to pose, one fist on her chest and the other on her hip, chest puffed out.

“Amity Blight, I will always be your fearless champion!” she declares and Amity giggles at her even as her heart flutters in her chest.

“I guess we’ll just have to protect each other.” She smiles adoringly at her and Luz grins back.

“Congratulations,” Edric says suddenly, crossing his arms. “You two are officially, that couple.”

“What couple?” Luz looks at Ed over her shoulder.

“That nauseatingly, romantic couple who are always doing cute things,” Emira explained, hand on her hip.

“At least I have a girlfriend…,” Amity huffed at them, arms crossed and nose in the air. Luz stuck her tongue out at them.

The twins frowned before smirking and simultaneously twirled their fingers.

Both their hoods suddenly pulled down over their heads, drawstrings pulling tightly closed, making Luz yelp and Amity snarl as the twins laughed.

Amity yanked the hood off and glared at the two as Luz’s head popped out of her hood.

“We’re going to the bookstore…," she growled, grabbing Luz’s arm and turning them in the right direction before having to drop it again.

“We’ll meet you there in a little bit!” Edric called after them, still grinning.

Amity grumbled to herself, fixing her hair before looking at Luz, whose dark brown locks had been mussed as well.

They were nearly alone now, and she reached up and carefully smoothed it out, making Luz grin as Amity fussed over her. She was fine if it was a little messy, but it was easier to just let Amity do her thing. Besides, she very much liked the feeling of her fingers running through her hair, and the warm affection it made tingle across her skin when Amity fretted over her.

She wanted so badly to take her hand but held back.

“I heard the bookstore got the newest Azura book in just yesterday,” Amity says after a minute and Luz brightens.

“I’ll race you there!” Luz suddenly shouts, taking off down the sidewalk, laughing. Amity grins, taking off after her. Luz turned the corner up ahead and Amity pushed herself to go faster but when she turned the corner her girlfriend was nowhere in sight. She stops, looking around.

Luz is fast, she knows, but not that fast.

“Luz?” She walks a few more feet, passing an alley as she looks around.

Suddenly a hand on her shoulder drags her roughly into the alley and she yelps.

Amity grimaces as she falls to the ground on her backside. She looks up and finds herself staring back at the snarling face of the upperclassmen with the green mohawk her brother had pointed out earlier.

“Amity!”

She turns toward the call and her face pales.

Luz is pressed back against the alley's stone wall, while the other student, the blonde, holds her there, a hand fisted into the front of her hoodie, but Luz is looking at her.

She looks like she starts to move over toward her but the blonde, draws a spell circle with his free hand and flames erupts from it, which he shoves next to her face, making Luz flinch back against the stone.

“Don’t even try,” he snaps, and Luz glares defiantly at him.

“Luz!” She jumps up but stops short of dashing over when Mohawk steps right in front of her, blocking her view of Luz and the blonde witch.

“If it isn’t the twin's precious baby sister and her little human friend, what a coincidence," he hissed, quite literally as a serpentine tongue flicked out between his lips.

Amity glared right back. Her arm starts to shoot up, index finger extended but stops short as she catches sight of Luz, back up against the wall, helpless against the other student without her glyphs as he teasingly shoves the fire closer to her face. Slowly, she lowered her arm and swallowed; If she fought back Luz would pay for it. She clenched her fists.

“What do you two want?” she growled.

“To get back at your rotten shit siblings!” he snarled, stalking closer to Amity, who takes a step back for each of his, till they've stalked past Luz and the blonde toward the back of the alley until she had no place left to go.

"It's not enough they're top of the class, they have to harp on the rest of us all the damn time too with their stupid jokes and pranks!"

His arm shot out and he grabbed Amity's wrist, tight, and she cried out in pain as he yanked her forward and she slammed to the hard ground, it bit into her palms as she tried to cushion the fall. Her knees still knocked hard against it and Amity glared up at him.

"They think they're so funny and clever?" he spat, standing over her. He spins a finger and a dark blue spell circle appears before fire crackles in his palm. "We'll see how clever they are when we send their little sister home fried!" He kicks her for good measure making her yelp.

"Amity!" Luz jerks forward but the fire crackling near her face is shoved closer and she can feel the heat licking at her cheeks and swallows thickly.

"Don't even try human, or I'll cook you!" The guy barks. She stiffens, but she’s focussed on Amity, lying on the ground. They've both turned to look back at her and blondie, and Amity's pained expression turns scared as she stares back at her, and it's like ice water running down Luz’s spine when she realizes that Amity isn't scared for herself, she's scared for her. Scared to fight back because Luz might get hurt; she knows Luz doesn’t have her glyphs.

Her fists clench, white knuckled.

Maybe she doesn't have her magic right now, but if they think she's going to stand by and let them beat up her girlfriend, she's going to introduce them to the good 'ol human version of a ‘witch’s duel’. She takes a deep breath and too fast for blondie to react, her fist flies upward and she connects, fist cracking against the underside of his jaw.

Blondie reels backward, stunned, the fire in his hand dissipating but Luz doesn’t wait for an invitation, and jolts forward, swinging again, ignoring the pain in her hand and nails him in the nose.

“Argghh!” She must have gotten Mohawks attention again because despite her heart pounding in her ears she hears Amity’s voice somewhere behind her,

“Abomination rise!”

She wants to go to her, but Luz knows damn well that so long as she has her magic, Amity can defend herself; and she has her own hands full already.

The guy looks up at her, eyes filled with rage and suddenly Luz’s world is awash in pain as his fist connects with her face and she stumbles backward. She rights herself quick enough to see him coming, but not to stop the next punch that topples her to the ground, and then he's on top of her, a hand fisted into the front of her shirt.

Adrenaline is coursing through her veins and Luz kicks him in the gut.

He doubles over and she kicks him again, sending him sprawling to the ground before she turns toward Amity, who has an abomination shielding her from the fire spells the other upperclassman is firing at her while she rapidly draws spell circles, flinging back spikes of ice.

She runs forward but only gets two steps before she's yanked back roughly by her hood.

Blondie swings her by the hood into the alley's stone wall. Her face and hands scrape against the stone, but she manages to cushion most of the blow with her arms. His hand grabs the back of her head and grinds her face into the wall and Luz winces under the pressure, crying out.

“Get away from her!”

A spear of ice fires down the alley out toward the street, and Blondie lets her go, jumping out of the way before he's impaled. Luz has to capitalize on the opening.

She turns and flings herself at him, toppling them to the ground, and she just starts swinging, he raises his arms to fend off the wild, rapid punches. She knows she needs to keep his hands busy because she isn't going to be any match for his spells without her glyphs, though in a fistfight she can, apparently, hold her own.

A few of her hits connect, but then he hits back, getting in another punch that sends Luz reeling and her head spinning as he throws her off and she thumps to the ground.

She only just managed to scramble to her feet, still a little dazed, her face is throbbing and she can taste blood. He grabs the front of her shirt in both hands and lifts her off the ground, feet dangling.

“You shoulda just kept quiet you stupid, little bit-”

Anything he was going to say is cut off as Luz flings one of her legs up, hard as she can, nailing him where the sun doesn't shine and he groans, dropping her instantly and falling to his knees. He’s curled up in the fetal position, cursing.

She spins around, looking down the alley where Amity is still fending off the upperclassman, but he’s backed her into a corner. The sleeve of her hoodie is burned away and she’s favoring her left arm; she’s hurt.

With a strangled scream of rage and fueled by adrenaline, Luz sprints down the alley and throws herself onto his back.

“Leave her alone!” She wraps her arms around his neck and he chokes staggering backward.

“Luz!” Amity yells as he thrashes around, clawing at her, trying to get a hold of the human as she squeezed her arms tightly around his windpipe. He finally gets hold of her hood and hauls her over his shoulder, back smacking the ground with a sickening smack. She groans, rolling into her side.

Blondie is back, his face is covered in bruises and blood is dripping from a bloody nose and a gash over his eyebrow as he runs toward them, but before he can get there a blast of magic shoots him in the back sending him to the ground, followed by several more as Edric and Emira appear in the alley’s entrance, scowling and drawing spell circles furiously.

The twins heard Amity’s yell as they were passing by on their way to meet them at the bookstore. The twins move down the alley against the wall, firing spells so as to maneuver themselves between the two younger teens and their classmates. The two battered witches turn tail and run, outnumbered. The twins give chase.

Amity lets her abomination fall as the twins continue to fire off spells at their attackers retreating backs as they race toward the alley's exit, and quickly turns, looking wildly at her girlfriend.

"Luz!" She shouts the second her eyes land on her.

Luz groaned, blood is coming from somewhere, she's not sure where, but she's watching it drop to the ground, in blotches on the dirt, staining it crimson beneath her as she tries to right herself, stumbling to her shaky feet. The adrenaline has begun to fade and the pain in her entire body makes itself known in throbs, in sync with the quick beat of her heart, but especially her face.

Amity races over to her, eyes wide with fear, hands raised in the air but she's still lost in an adrenaline-filled haze that makes it hard to think straight, and she doesn't even know where to start with Luz's injuries as she looks at her.

Her left eye and the skin around it is starting to turn a deep, ugly purple as it starts to swell shut. Her bottom lip is split open and blood is running freely from her nose.

Luz's legs begin to tremble as the fight induced adrenaline leaves her and she lets them give, dropping back to her knees in a heap. Amity's hands shoot out to grab her arms, trying to slow the fall as she kneels next to her. She shakily digs through her pocket and pulls out a handkerchief and starts gently wiping at the blood still coming out of Luz's nose, but it just keeps coming and soon the thin white material is stained crimson.

The twins run over once they're sure the other witches are gone.

"What happened?!" Emira shouts.

"Why were they attacking you?!" Edric looks wildly between the two.

Anger flares up in Amity like demon fire as she turns to glare at her siblings, lips pulled back in a snarl.

"They were attacking us for what you two did to them at school!" Amity practically screams at them. "They were after me and they were trying to use Luz so I couldn't fight back!" She spits and the twins' recoil, complete surprise, and horror are painted across their faces. Amity wants to yell at them more but she has more important things to do. 'Take care of Luz.' is her prevailing thought.

She turns back to Luz who seems to finally be responsive after hearing Amity scream at the twins.

She reaches up to grab the hand dabbing at her face, her one still open eye on her. Amity glimpses the bloody knuckles as she does.

"I'm okay…," she says, squeezing it.

"You are not okay, Luz, you're hurt!" She chokes as the rest of her emotions start catching up to her, drowning out her anger with a sea of fear and Pain.

Fear for herself and for Luz, and pain, in her arm and in her chest as she looks at her beaten bloody girlfriend.

"I know… but I'll be okay. Are you okay?" Her one open eye roams over Amity and lands on the burn on her arm. The skin is red and looks raw with dried blood and soot around the edges from where the left sleeve of her hoodie had been burned away to create the injury when a fire spell had struck home.

"Forget about, me! You're bleeding everywhere!" She holds the crimson handkerchief to Luz's nose and pinches it shut. Luz winces.

"We need to get her home…," Edric says quietly as he walks up and kneels down to help pick up Luz but Amity snarls and shoves him away. He falls back, looking at her with wide, surprised eyes.

"Don't touch her! This is your fault, both of you!" Tears are dripping down her angry face.

"Amity…" she hears Emira's pained voice.

Luz grabs her hands, forcing her attention back to her.

"Shhh, mi amor…," she soothes, which only makes Amity cry harder as Luz tries to comfort her with blood still running down her lips and angry purple bruises blooming across her face.

"Please, Amity, we need to get Luz home, and you're hurt too." Emira's voice is tight, sounding on the verge of tears as she kneels next to her sister.

Edric bites his lip turning over onto his knees.

"Please, Amity…," he begs.

The hands wrapped around hers squeeze and Amity looks at Luz who nods tiredly.

"Let them help."

Amity jerks a nod and Luz let's go as Edric wraps an arm around her back and holds her arm over his shoulder to help her stand.

Emira moves to help Amity but she flinches away from the touch and stands on her own. That stabs at Emira's chest.

Luz winces with every step. It's a long thirty-minute walk to the owl house, made all the worse by the intense stifling quiet, as no one says anything.

Amity's burnt arm hurts, badly, but it's overshadowed by her intense worry, watching Luz wince. It looks like her nose has stopped bleeding but her face is a bloody, black, and blue mess and though she makes no sound, tears are still dripping down her face. Emira trails behind her, watching her carefully but says nothing.

When they finally arrive Hooty sees them coming and stretches quickly around the house, sticking his head in one of the windows for a minute before pulling back and a few seconds later the door slams open and Eda and Lilith come running out.

"What happened!?" Lilith yells first.

Eda meets them in the yard, but other than the panicked expression on her face, says nothing as she takes Luz from Edric, gathering the beaten girl in her arms and hurrying back into the house. Lillith takes one look and Amity and ushers her toward the house as well.

The twins move to follow but Amity stops.

"Go home," she sniffles, barely looking at them over her shoulder.

Ed and Em just stand there, they say nothing, just looking at their sister sadly as Lilith looks between Amity and the twins, before turning to them.

"I will tend to her injuries," she says, before continuing to lead Amity into the house. The door shuts on the twins still standing in the yard.

Luz is sitting on the couch when they walk in just as Eda hurries up the stairs, still not saying anything. Lilith leads Amity to sit next to her and looks over her burnt arm and the bruise forming around her wrist in a distinct hand-print shape before she also hurries to the kitchen, leaving the two teenagers alone in the living room.

The front of Luz's new hoodie is spattered with blood, the hood is ripped and theirs some small tears in other places, as well as on her jeans, while Amity's is singed, the whole left arm burned away to reveal her burnt arm. Ash and soot cling to the skin around it and the front left side is blackened.

They don't say anything, and soon enough both sisters return and Eda, face tight with anger and worry, begins gently cleaning Luz's face.

Lilith helps Amity gently pull off the ruined hoodie and starts cleaning her arm, making her tears start anew as she wipes at the tender and raw, burnt skin.

Luz's hand finds hers on the couch and holds it. Amity sniffles and runs her thumb over bruised knuckles.

When they're finally cleaned up and bandaged Eda leans back and lets out a long, tense sigh.

"Someone tell us what happened, now." She finally speaks, looking between the two teens.

They spend the next fifteen minutes explaining the events of the afternoon to the sisters. Eda looking, angrier and angrier with every word as Lilith's frown deepens and her brows pull together between her eyes.

"Those stupid little…!" Eda growls

"Edalyn" Lilith stops her with a word, drawing her sister's angry gaze but she's looking at Luz and Amity. "Why don't you two go upstairs and we'll call you when dinner is ready?" They nod and head for the stairs, the sisters watching them go.

Luz plops on her bed tiredly, back against the headboard. Her whole body hurts, but not nearly as much as her head, she's got a headache.

Amity sits next to her, leaning her head on her shoulder and they sit there quietly for a while.

Luz never could stand the quiet.

"Aren't you glad now I have that general disregard for danger?" Luz smiles weakly, trying to lighten the oppressively, heavy mood. Amity looks at her sadly, glassy eyes roaming over her face. Her left eye has finished swelling shut and it's an ugly black color. Her split lip has stopped bleeding but it's swollen too, closed with dark, dried blood. She has a rash of scrapes on the right side of her face from being slammed into the wall and several dark bruises dot her face, and Amity's lip trembles.

"I'm sorry…," she mumbles thickly, tucking her face into Luz's neck.

"Hey, it's okay. This wasn't your fault," she says, wrapping her arms around her and holding her tight.

At that Amity's anger returns stronger than ever, and she pulls away, scowling.

"No… it was my stupid brother and sisters fault!" she spat through fresh tears, looking away.

Luz wants to argue with that, she really does, but can't, because it's true. If the twins hadn't needlessly pranked and then provoked those two upperclassmen in the market, this wouldn't have happened.

"They didn't mean to," she tries weakly, but it sounds feeble even to her own ears.

"That doesn't make it any less their fault, them and their stupid pranks!" she rages. "They're always provoking someone, and now you're hurt because of it!"

"So are you," Luz reminds, her one eye flickering to the bandage wrapped around Amity's left arm from wrist to elbow.

"That doesn't matt-"

"It matters to me," Luz cuts her off sharply. "I'm supposed to be your fearless champion… and you still got hurt… you had to save me," she mumbled, looking down. She hears Amity sigh, and the bed shifts and Amity's head tucks back into her neck, arm around her tightening.

"You were my fearless champion," she mumbles, snuggling into her and Luz squeezes back, burying her nose in mint hair.

"And you were mine."

#Moonlit Masquerade #lumity #luz noceda #Amity Blight #edric blight #emira blight #Eda clawthorne #Lilith clawthorne #violence #fighting

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