#& what works best for your muse; but. lemme know if you want something different!

[occkalt]

Kat's heard the rumors. But she had to listen close, because they were surprisingly hard to find - so much so that a part of her suspects that she might've just been hearing what she wanted to hear.

A haunted art gallery... Well, it's not the kind of thing she usually chases after. It's only because she's in the area that she figured it was worth checking out, not having much else to do with her time. Annie had intended to come with her, but... sometimes, things come up - Kat gets that. And besides, if there really does turn out to be something here, Kat's not sure she'd want her here anyway.

Right now, she's still in the "gathering info" phase. But as serious as this investigation is, Kat's always been the mischievous type, and she can't stand to spend too long without messing with someone a little bit. ...Maybe that requires a bit of self-reflection, but either way... that's what has her leaning in towards the stranger just slightly now, and with a playful half-smile, asking-

"Hey. Do you believe in the supernatural?"

@fabricatedprince ( starter! )

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 6.

Summary: Felix learns about what happened between you and Oliver at the club, and some jackass makes assumptions about you and Felix and your intentions towards Oliver. The interaction gets you worked up enough that you feel the need to repay Felix as when he'd defended you. With sex.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; AFAB!reader, d/s dynamics, felix being a chatty brat, assume the reader is on birth control, unprotected sex.

A/N: 4782 words. cannot go two chapters without having a felix/reader moment it seems. bare with me i swear we get more oliver as it goes on, but he's just watching through the blinds right now and collecting information. also forgive me, not only is this unedited, it's also the first actual, explicit smut scene i've written in years, and even longer since i've been intimate with someone with a dick. i also dont read smut so this might be weird pacing wise at the end. honestly the smut is just a backdrop for character development. have at ye, and please lemme know what you think!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Summer creeps in almost insidiously, days getting longer and warmer, humidity forcing it's way into every single facet of your lives. Afternoons outside of classes are spent doing not much of anything, hoping that when night falls, the temperature will fall with it.

This afternoon is the coolest you've had in several weeks, laying on Felix's floor, listening to him play the guitar while Oliver was draped over the foot of his bed, gazing at Felix's bookshelf. There's a sweet breeze through the open window and you hum along to the tune you recognise your best friend playing, letting yourself soak in the moment.

The quiet spell breaks as Oliver moves, reaches out for something on Felix's bookshelf.

"That's cute," he muses, "baby Felix." It must be the photo of Felix and his childhood dog, the you'd only met once or twice as a kid before he'd passed, before you'd been properly friends. But Oliver puts the photo back almost as fast as he'd picked it up, "there aren't any pictures of me as a kid," he muses.

"You and Y/N have that in common," Felix says idly, surprising both you and Oliver, though for different reasons; you hadn't even realised he'd remembered that about you. Your vapid, jet-setting, philanthropist parents had always been incredibly image conscious, and a child was never part of that image. Born out of obligation to their own parents to produce a grandchild to make eventual inheritance easier, they longed to distance themselves from the very idea of you unless they desperately needed to.

And they hadn't for as long as you've been alive.

"If there were baby photos of me, that'd prove that my parents had a child," you laughed, but there was no real humour in it, "and none of us wants that."

The invisible heir.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Oliver says faintly, an unfamiliar, unreadable look in his eyes as he gazes over at you. You give a blithe shrug.

"It means I got to find a home in Felix," you say easily, the wording sappy enough to make Felix himself laugh.

"You're such a sap, that's so much nicer than what I was going to say."

"Go on then, out with it," you prompted him, despite his faint, playful protest.

"I was going to call you another ward of the Saltburn Estate," Felix grins at you, "for better or worse."

"At least you had a family who loved you," Oliver turns away again, pressing his cheek to the duvet as his gaze focused back on the photo of Felix and his dog, "even if they weren't yours." There's a distinct discomfort in the air now, a reminder of how vastly Oliver's life differs from your own.

"I was lucky in a lot of ways," is all you can think to say. Felix starts playing guitar again.

These long days turn into long nights, parties, girls and boys and everyone in between, hazy chats and drinking games and hands on you - holding you, dancing with you, brushing past, tapping with excitement, always hands on you. The quiet way Oliver goes through these strange situations may be read as awkward to everyone else, but you're no longer under any such illusions.

"You're desperate to feel needed."

There was no hesitation in his voice the other night, his hands on you, his mouth on you.

"Then need me, want me."

How easily he'd made you flustered in the club, you didn't realise he had it in him. Honestly if you hadn't experienced it yourself, you wouldn't believe it if someone else had told you. There's been a change, however, a subtle, unnoticeable one to anyone looking in from the outside. Every so often, on nights out, you'll catch him watching you with that same hungry look in his eyes, but will never act on it, however much you wish he would.

"I do, but not like this, not now."

What the fuck was he playing at? You never knew how to bring it up, even when you were alone together. But he never stopped reached out for you, he never shied away from your touch. Apart from this one thing, it was the exact same as before.

If only that one thing didn't have the potential to change everything.

"Has Ollie seemed any different to you lately?" You go to the only person you know you can trust with this. Felix frowns at his hand of cards for a long moment before looking back up at you.

"Sorry, what was the question?"

"Ollie," you go a little slower, rearranging your own hand of cards, "does he seem... I don't know, different to you?" Then, as Felix was considering, "got any fives?"

"Go fish." You should both be studying for an upcoming exam.

"What do you mean? Has anyone said anything to you?" Felix momentarily put down his cards to relight his cigarette, fixing you with an intense gaze, "did something happen?"

"Did someone say something to you?" You pivot for the moment, still looking at your cards.

"Annabel."

"Annabel?"

"About her birthday thing."

"Are you taking your turn or what?"

"Oh, right," he's still frowning, picking up his cards with his free hand, "threes?" You swear as you hand over two threes, as he quietly cheers.

"Anyways, what about Annabel's birthday thing? Does she has a problem with Ollie?" At your question, Felix ums and ahs, and avoids eye contact, "yes then?"

"No-one else in the group is a huge fan of him," he even sounds guilty admitting it out loud, "everyone else can kind of feel how out of place he is and it makes things awkward. I know we think he's lovely," Felix tried to quickly placate you, or perhaps his own conscience, "but the man's got zero chat." This does, however, make you snort.

"Ollie's got chat," you smirk down at your cards, only realising what you'd said when you're met with a shocked silence. Looking up, Felix is staring at you with utter surprise.

"Does he now?" He sounds downright scandalised. You can feel yourself growing flustered, both under Felix's delighted, intrigued gaze, and at your own memories from the club, "so something did happen?"

"Nothing happened!"

"Something definitely happened!"

"I didn't fuck him."

"Between nothing and fucking there's a whole lot of somethings that could have happened," card game completely forgotten, Felix is enraptured as you begin to briefly explain the interaction at the club -

"- and well then, he starts calling me out while aggressively making out with me," you take a deep, final breath, finally looking Felix in the eyes, "and I desperately wanted to fuck him because of it." You sigh, and give Felix plenty of time to process the story and recover.

"But you didn't?" Finally, he speaks, and you groaned, throwing your head back to look at the stars.

"No," you sulked, "he disappeared into the crowd and I had to get myself off twice before I could sleep that night. Fucking tease," but you're heart's not really mad at Oliver.

"Always fascinated to learn what turns you on," Felix is desperately trying to hold in his laughter. It's not working, "many of them baffle me."

"That's not the point here, Fi," you rolled your eyes, leaning back against the gravel roof finally, laying back. You hear the pebbles shifting, and moments later Felix joins you, hands behind his head, "I don't know how to talk about it with him," you say softly. Then, tone much lighter, "and it doesn't surprise me that Annabel thinks he has no chat, he just doesn't want to fuck her, and she can't fathom a world where anyone doesn't want her."

Felix laughs, but unfortunately isn't able to offer any real advice to you about your Oliver situation.

Oliver Quick was an anomaly in your life, you should maybe have suspected his friendship to bring on further anomalous occurrences.

"Leave Oliver Quick alone," like the voice in the library that greets you harshly whilst you're hunting down a textbook. Spinning to see who it is, you lay eyes on a blonde man in dreadfully practical clothes; he's glaring at you like you've done him some personal offense.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he says sharply, gaze as unwavering as his tone, "you vapid -" he stops himself for a moment, face turning red with anger, "pricks," he settles on, "leave Oliver Quick alone, for his sake."

"Is this a joke?"

"Oh I'm not one for jokes, especially not with the likes of you; I know how you and Mister Catton operate. Selfish," he hissed.

"Do I know you?" Its genuine confusion, and for a moment the man's expression turned annoyed, his righteous indignation turning to faint disappointment as you refused to take him and his request seriously.

"Michael," like it should mean something to you, "Michael Gavey;" still nothing, "I was in the year below you at high school for four years."

"Well, Michael," you start slowly, bordering on condescending, "Ollie's a big boy -"

"I know you; you'll get bored, you two always do," Michael cuts you off with a sneer, some of that anger from just earlier returning, "he deserves more than to be a footnote in your frivolous little lives."

"Fuck off, Mikey." You say it as a warning.

"Michael," he corrects through gritted teeth, "Felix is a slag, which makes you the sensible one, so I thought you'd actually listen -" but the realisation hits you, right as you start to see red.

"You've already tried talking to Ollie," immediately, your tone ices over, humourless, cruel little smile twisting the edges of your lips. Noticing your change in demeanour, the fight seems to drain out of Michael before your very eyes, "and he ignored you, didn't he?" You asked, already knowing the answer from the way he was trying to stammer through an answer.

"Now, Michael," you tell him with a poisonous smile, taking even, measured steps towards him, as you turn his name over on your tongue with as much malice as you can manage, "Michael Gavey, I think I do know you," you're playing with your food, drawing out his discomfort with every slow word; you weren't cruel by nature, not unless someone found which button to press, "first year," you drop your voice low as you get into his space. He starts to shrink backwards, but you're practically on his toes until you're crowding him against the bookshelf, "math genius, shouts in the dining hall -"

"I didn't- just once-"

"If you ever," there's a furious look in your eyes behind your sinister smile as you stand toe-to-toe with Michael, "and I mean fucking ever, breathe the word slag in Felix's direction, or any other insult for that matter," you wet your lips, "I promise the only job you will ever get for the rest of your life will be that of a high school English tutor," you pet his cheek condescendingly, "for students with dyscalculia."

Michael actually shudders.

"You know I can do it too, don't you?" You press, and he nods, looking both furious and ashamed where he can't look you in the eyes, "we went to high school together, Mikey, I know where you came from, I can dictate where you will go." Stepping back, you clear your throat. Nodding to him, you turn on your heel to head further into the library, to continue searching for your book.

Trying to move past it doesn't work, it still irks you, you still can't stop thinking about his weaselly little face, the bitter sneer he wore, and the cruelty with which he spoke about you and Felix. It haunts you. The audacity.

Textbook in hand, you immediately head for the patch of greenery and trees near Oliver's dorm, where you know Felix and the rest of your friends will all be spending their afternoon.

"Ooh~ Y/N coming in hot," Farleigh called, spotting the metaphorical cloud of thunder above you before anyone else.

"What are you doing now?" Ignoring everyone else, you only have eyes for Felix. He grins up at you from where he was using Farleigh's thigh as a pillow.

"I assume whatever it is you're about to ask of me," he says blithely, while the others watch the interaction with amusement.

"I need to rant," was all you said, and Felix held out his hand for you to help him up.

"You're so sexy when you're angry," he says teasingly for the whole group to hear, "has anyone ever told you that?"

"I'm not kidding," you scowl, and his grin widens.

"I know, that's the best part, I could listen to you yell for hours, I usually never get to hear it." The banter continues on the way back to your dorm. The others know it's probably a cover, though none of them, apart from Farleigh of course, know the truth. Most assume you're moments from a breakdown and would like to have your best friend there for support.

The minute you're back in your room, you slam the door shut and toss the textbook to the side. Felix asks you what's wrong, tone still light, and you can feel that protective anger flaring up in you.

Slag.

"If you don't hold me back I might start getting into scraps," you tells him with seriousness, stalking up to him with intent, planting an almost bruising kiss on his lips as you fumble with the buttons of your shirt. It's not often that you're the one getting riled up; Felix is more than enthusiastic.

"Don't fight on my behalf," he laughs, frantically pulling off his sweater. Pausing for a moment to help him with the pullover, the minute it's off and tossed to the side, you're unbuttoning his shirt with one hand as best your able, as he's trying to tug your shirt off in the chaos. The two of you are moving to the bed, and he actually gasps when the back of his legs hit, when you take a beat to raise your eyebrows at him, silently asking permission.

He's already letting himself fall back with a wicked, delighted grin as your hand finds his bare chest.

Then he's breathless, with you braced over him, gazing down at him with a furious determination that you don't usually allow yourself to build up. Felix looks up at you with pure extasy in his eyes, like you hang the stars in the sky. His hands on your ass, his grip is firm and secure, but he doesn't move; he's letting you lead.

"Felix Catton, I ruin lives for you," you practically snarl; a breathy laugh escapes him, caught up in the moment, in the mood that's been building within you, "doesn't feel like enough sometimes -"

"You're so fucking hot," he groans like he can't even help himself, can't hold himself back, can't help but close the gap to your lips, kissing you with that same intensity you're giving him.

"If I hear-" you punctuate your words with rough kisses, "another word-" biting at his lips, "against you, I'm -" fumbling with his belt, "I'm gonna start cutting people -"

"Yeah?" Felix prompts breathlessly with a sharp grin, not even waiting to get your fly all the way down before his hand is in your pants, fingers at an awkward angle in your jeans but still finding your clit. It's like you're feeling everything tenfold with the earlier outrage still burning in your veins -

Vapid pricks. The likes of you. Slag. Watching Felix's hands on the girl in the club. The venom in his voice and fury in his eyes when he'd pinned Farleigh to the wall to defend you - Our Felix; Oliver's voice like honey in your ears, tempting that jealous creature in your chest that you'd gone for years ignoring -

"My Felix," you'd purred as your hand found his cock. For a moment, his breath came out as a stutter, eyes going wide as they meets yours. He looks almost incredulous, then, after a moment, hungry, wanting. It's captivating; he's captivating, like he's desperate to devour every part of this moment and you in it, barely holding himself back.

"One more time for me?" He requests, voice low and pleased, before he changes tactics, indicating for both of you to actually take off your pants.

"Everyone's fucking wrong about you," you tell him, kicking your jeans to the side, watching for a moment as he shimmies with his jeans, looking like he's made of ninety percent limbs. Still, your intensity holds.

"Even the people that like me?" Felix laughs, finally getting himself free of the jeans. Before he can remove his boxers, however, you're on him once more, thumbs hooking into the waistband and pulling them down slowly as you speak.

"Everyone else has these versions of you in their head," you begin to plant kisses along his inner thigh as you work your way up, looking up at him through your lashes, "where you're either an angel who can do no wrong," Felix is already hard when you begin to slowly work your hand up and down the shaft of his cock, "or the absolute devil who's a scourge on the female population," your lip curls for a moment, a derisive kind of amusement at their imagined expense.

"I can't look at you right now," he half chokes out, head falling back against your duvet, "fuck," he gasps. It's enough to bring you back to the moment, and you apologise -

"No, fuck, don't stop anything; the ranting, the -" he gestures to where your movements had slowed briefly, "any of it, I just literally," he laughs a little awkwardly, almost a little self-deprecatingly, "will not last more than a minute if I look at you right now."

Oh.

Oh! This is good!

"What's so different," he prompts through shaky breathes - you can't quite believe how much he's effected by you in this moment, how enthusiastically, how desperately he responds to your dominant intensity - "about the version of me in your head?"

After a beat, you climb off of him, already reaching for your drawer.

"Everything okay?" He asks, eyes opening as he tilts his head to look at you. Pulling out a tube of lube, you focus on opening it up, rather than Felix himself. You should be using protection, you know you should be using protection, but you want to feel all of him, only him.

"I can't talk with my mouth full," you told him, still maintaining that steely intensity, "so we're skipping foreplay." Felix, immediately understanding where you were going with all this, looks back up at the ceiling with a wide smile.

"Fine by me; right now I'm inclined to say that you can do whatever you want forever, honestly - cold!" He announced with shock, jerking up a little as you glided a generous amount of lubricant over his cock. There's a faint look of betray in his eyes, but you just gave him a thin, mean smile.

"Felix, stop talking."

The commanding tone is enough to get him back on board, groaning, arching into your touch as you once again were working his shaft, now so slick your hand glided easily up and down the impressive length.

"My Felix," voice once again low, you use some of the excess lubricant on yourself. Since leaving the library, however, your anger had known it's outlet; just the idea of fucking Felix in a righteous fury had gotten you going, and you were already wet, wanting, desperate for him.

"Don't make me beg," he all but whimpered as you finally straddled his thighs, "fuck, I'll do it for you, but -"

"Shut. Up. Felix." You leaned down, chest pressed to his lips inches from his, whispering, "I won't make you beg," as you sink down onto his cock, swallowing his moan with a kiss.

"I am under no illusions about you, Felix," you begin to murmur, hips rolling at a deep, consistent rhythm, "I don't have a version of you in my head, I just have you; I just want you, as you are."

Pace picking up, you sit, rake your nails lightly down his chest, watch as he pants and groans beneath you. When he holds your hips, your thighs, you can feels his nails digging in, burying himself deep inside of you with each rhythmic thrust. There's something primal and triumphant roaring in your chest, pushing you to sink your nails into him, your teeth -

"I don't care who you fuck," you tell him through gritted teeth, picking up your pace, thighs burning.

"You're a fucking liar," tumbles from Felix's lips as he looks up at you with a smirk.

"I don't, I'd be a hypocrite -" very suddenly, Felix sits up, and you go still with him still inside of you, adjusting to the change, wrapping your legs around him.

"Then you're a hypocrite," he smirks, gaze hazy, heady, euphoric in this moment, "and a liar," and he wraps his arms around you as he kisses you, pulling you back with him as he lays back down on the bed.

"I'm not jealous," you start again, softer this time, but still aiming for stern.

"I'll say I believe you," there's mischief in Felix's eyes as his hand snakes between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles against your clit as you pick your rhythm back up again, slower this time.

"Fi," for the first time all afternoon, your voice softens, and you let your stern demeanour break, instead looking over him, glowing with sweat and endorphins, in your bed, in you, looking up at you with nothing but love in his eyes, "I don't care if nobody knows it's me, but -" you wet your lips, wicked little smile on your lips, "I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Something about your words, your request, perhaps your tone, sets him off again; you rake your nails lightly down his chest again and he arches up, swearing, almost breathless.

"Yes, fuck, yes," comes out alongside a breathless moan, "my Y/N, anything you want - please."

You paint him blue and purple and the deepest, prettiest red with hickeys, leaving him looking absolutely scandalous. Of course he returns the favour in the form of scratch marks up your back and his teeth almost drawing blood from your shoulder. When he comes it's with your mouth on his neck and his cock deep inside of you, holding you close, holding you steady, whispering incoherent praise into your ear. Always diligent, he doesn't move, doesn't pull out or away from you before his focus is on you, making sure you get off, delighting in watching you unravel on top of him.

In the afterglow, amid the sharing of a cigarette and catching of your breath, you apologise softly.

"What are you apologising for?" He immediately cracks a grin, "in fact, any time you ever start to get all worked up and mean like that, have me on speed dial -"

"I - no, Fi," you sighed, amused at his suggestion, though it was fading fast, "I just... try not to be jealous," there's faint notes of guilt now that you've come down from the adrenaline and endorphins of it all. Sitting against the headboard, you draw your knees up to your chest.

"I know," Felix says easily, sitting up beside you, resting his head against your shoulder, his hand on your knee, "I try too... I don't think I'm always that great at hiding it." Then, after a moment, his tone lightens, "I think this is why I don't want to tell people about us, I don't think I could begin to explain it in a way that makes sense." It gets you to laugh, leaning into him, tension and guilt easing.

"I thought it was the rush of sneaking around and lying to people."

"There's that too," he agreed with a chuckle. The two of you fall into easy silence as he takes a drag on the cigarette and hands it over. The afternoon is sticky-hot, especially in your room, curtains still half open but window shut. As you go to open it, not caring about potential onlookers in the twilight, past the sliver of your curtain, Felix speaks up.

"There's no version of me in your head? Not even a little bit rose-coloured-glasses tinted?" He grins at you, and you lay out on the bed, looking up at him through your lashes. After a moment of simply taking the moment in, you shake your head with a soft smile.

"I told you, I'm under no illusions about you, Fi."

"I think you're too good to me for that to be true."

"I want you as you are, dude," you shrug, as if it's the easiest truth in the world.

"As I am?" He wants to be sceptical but his tone and the look in his eyes betrays him. You've never heard him quite so soft you think, eyes wide and glassy and full of conflict and love; everyone wants him, everyone loves him, everyone wants to be him or be with him, he's reckoned with his reality a long time ago, even if he wasn't entirely conscious of it. Felix's life had been picked apart by everyone around him at the surface level for as long as he could remember, perhaps he'd thought that no-one would ever care to look deeper. Perhaps he'd gotten so used to it that he'd forgotten there was anything deeper.

"I want the Felix who can't keep a girlfriend for more than two months, and who's cheated on every single one of them with me," you start, wearing a grin despite his sudden frown, "I want the Felix who hugs and kisses strangers after just meeting them because he's bursting at the seams with affection, I want the Felix who won't admit that he sleeps better with someone next to him at night, and the Felix who recaps the books he's been reading to me like they're gossip. The Felix who uses people, and breaks hearts, who says he doesn't know he's doing it but I know you do," you laugh, sitting up on your knees and letting the blankets slide down your back as Felix looks up at you now with a fond kind of reverence, "I want the Felix that lights up every room he's in without even trying, who makes everyone around him feel like they're the only person in the world, and that same Felix who still shifts over, mid conversation with someone else, for me to sit down beside him without having to even ask, because you know we'll always come back to each other," you lean down, lips inches from his, burning intensity in your gaze as you take in the reverence in his eyes, "the Fi who fights for me, the Fi who loves that I'd ruin lives for him, my Felix -" You see the moment he can no longer hold himself back, arcing forward, moving from the headboard to be by you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. For a long moment it's your mouth fitting perfectly against his, faint, desperate groan being pulled from the back of his throat as he takes your face in his hands, firm, warm, wanting, deepening the kiss.

"Some of those things were pretty shit," he laughed a little self consciously after the kiss breaks, both of you breathing heavy. In his eyes you can see the barest hint of conflict.

"People have said worse."

"And you got them expelled," he reminded with a faint smile, but again there's that conflict, "and they aren't you."

"You're my best mate," you laugh easily, "that shit, the good and the less good, makes you my Felix. Be pretty shit of me to want to chop and change who you are, you know?"

For a very long moment, you watch the way he slowly begins to smile, to take all your saying in drinking in this sun-drenched moment. Reaching out, he carefully touches your cheek.

"Say it again then," he prompts, sounding almost giddy, feather-light touches as if mapping your delicate features in this moment. For a brief second you're confused, barely angling your head to indicate as such before you can see his faint blush beneath his golden skin, creeping up his cheeks. When he laughs, almost self conscious, you realise, and grin back.

"You're a sap."

"Don't make me beg."

"My Felix."

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - Loustat (SPOILERS) Pt2: Reunion

You don't know the HALF of what Lestat feels for Louis, to let YOUR grimy arse steal his man, just for LOUIS's happiness. ANYTHING for Louis.

Am I the only one who felt left hanging? We BEEN knew it didn't make sense, but what's your POINT, exactly? If Louis misremembered Lestat whispering, it's just par for the course about the odyssey of recollection. But if Lestat DID do telepathy, is that evidence of...what? That the vampire bond works differently than what's been explained? That he COULD read Lou's mind? AMC, this is AGGRAVATING.

Your goose is COOKED, my guy.

The copium & denial pack Louis was smoking as he laughed was 🤌

That's right, start sweating!

Master manipulation; cuz he certainly would NOT have, as we soon find out. ANYTHING for Louis. (Dang, Imma have to take back some of what I said about Lestat's character development not having started yet.)

I was shocked. I was NOT expecting this plot twist. I was ready to throw Lestat out with the rest of the TRASH, in the DUMP. Well dang. Guess I'll only leave him rotting in a TINY landfill.

I nearly SCREAMED--@nashvillethotchicken and I were talking about Loustat as Bobby and Whitney ages ago! I cannot BELIEVE AMC threw in a New Edition reference in the year of our lord 2024; y'all are diabolical AF, Rolin, STOP IT.

I wonder if AMC used Hurricane Odette cuz the OG script was set in pandemic!2020, so it would make sense that a year later Louis would head back to NOLA during 2021 when Hurricane Odette last hit.

That looks like NOLA's Pontchartrain Hotel--lemme find out he bumped into the Mayfairs when Rowan & them were in town, LOL.

Lestat got more aliases than the KGB; meanwhile Louis just sprinkles his long AF unique AF name all over the place. 🤦 But I guess it's ok, since the tour guide never mentioned him & Claudia by name. (Not Tom Anderson in another finale, LOL.) Louis so offended the tour guide said he ran a voodoo cult. XD

Fall of the House of Lioncourt-Melmouth.

You're gosh darned right! THEE Louis of Troy is in the building!

You love to see it. "A wearisome fledgling; all the millennials are--" not Lestat making PALE PROXIES of rat-catcher extraordinare LDPDL out of millennials. 😭

Lestat, if you don't get your crazy arse outta here with that bloodstained wooden keyboard Imma ROTFLMFAO.

NO JOKE, I effed up my friend's whole set when I started screaming "Siri, Pause," cuz my friend's Siri started freaking out and effed up the volume! XD

HERE WE EFFING GOOOOOOOO

(Best scene all season, fight me on this)

You know this was TEARING Lestat up, cuz of what happened in 1973--I gave Louis to you so you could do BETTER by him than EYE did, and instead it's NICKI ALL OVER AGAIN.

Imma smack him--this is NOT the time to be self-loathing, Lestat!

NOLA is my home--and the SAINT is not a city--I'm gonna cry.

He did. He just forgot, when reality settled in and the allure/nostalgia/glamour wore off. "I tried to make nights awful for you." Not the whole time, Louis. Y'all actually were happy b4--even Claudia said "the easy times" stopped after Florence died; and esp. after Charlie died. Lou can't be blamed for grieving his mom's death, and he definitely can't be blamed for Lestat & Claudia falling out after Charlie. Everything that happened after that--the 7 years of depression--was ALSO Lestat's fault. "I wanted you to suffer, cuz I was suffering;" I'm glad Les just waved that aside and said they BOTH wronged e/o.

He's not suicidal anymore then! He has nights in front of him to look forward to! So Lou can finally "learn to live honestly" with HIMSELF.

And Lestat dove RIGHT ON IN with that! He's been carrying that with him for DECADES, worried about Louis & what happened.

I LOVE that Les' language changes (the way his voice CRACKS and goes so TINY, oml)--he asked Lou in 1973 if he was "ill," and if something had happened TO him; so as to not spook/trigger or blame him--but he can ask more candidly now in a (relatively) "healthier" 2024 if Lou tried to hurt/kill himself; and get a more candid/honest answer. CLOSURE, y'all, I'm gonna cry.

GOOOOOOD. Don't EVER forget your daughter. Y'all need to have a Claudia Memorial; to KEEP remembering her, as she was in all her vampiric splendour, the good times AND the bad times.

I KNOW this hurt Louis to his effing core. The way Jacob cried FIRE!

I'm so glad Lou hugged him--YES YOU WERE, Uncle Les. And you KNOW it; you FELT that bond b/t y'all, even if she never looked at you. The distance b/t y'all was in name only, cuz a little Black girl couldn't have TWO daddies in 1917 and have one of them be white on top of it. I AM YOUR MAKER, sure, but you were her BLOOD FATHER, and she loved you, which is why she hoped you'd help her.

ANOTHER ROUND IN THE STORMY ROMANCE OF YOU TWO. 😭👏

What are these magical off-mic speeches/pep-talks Louis keeps giving people in Season 2?!? THE PEOPLE WANNA KNOW, gosh darnit!

DRATS.

I get why Jam said they thought the Loustat ending was "satisfying." It was nice, even though I'd've preferred to see Lestat in the Dubai penthouse at the end. :\

I LOVE THIS, AMC, thank you! ❤️

[tvgirlzz]

Gwen Stacy x fem!reader

notes: did not proofread this but enjoy 😣 also the only story I’ve really written was an English assignment on a book so feel free to give critiques if you have any 😋👍

“Sit still, Gwen!” You laughed as she moved uncomfortably.

Gwen had snuck into your window and while you were trying to decide what you wanted to make your art project on. Your teacher said it ‘had to be something close to you and not a random thing you traced from the internet.’ It was unbelievable the amount of times someone in your class used a dog they never met before for their project. Being the amazing girlfriend you are, you decided to make your project on her.

Which brings you to now, watching Gwen squirm uncontrollably on your bed.

“How long is this gonna take Y/N? I don’t think I can feel my butt anymore.” She complained, shifting around.

“Not long, I swear! Only a few more minutes.” Your brush delicately strokes, the light watercolors slightly dripping down the canvas. Painting beautiful pastel colors such as blue for her eyes, yellow to match her blonde hair, and topping it off with a pink and purple background.

Making sure to miss no detail, you picked up a small tipped brush. Carefully painting the small dots of her freckles, to the small, visible veins on her hands.

“Are you done yet? Lemme see!” She stood up, picking at the canvas in front of you.

“No! Sit down!” You lightly pushed her back down, moving her hands so she could pose again.

“It’s supposed to be a surprise. You can see the finished product once my teacher grades it.”

Setting the brush down, your eyes scanned all over the canvas. Sighing, you bit your lip nervously. This was good, right? You knew your art teacher was a hard critic but very easy on the grading. So why were you nervous?

“What’s wrong, babe?” Gwen furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to read your facial expression. She stood up and walked behind you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and laying her head on top of yours.

“If it makes you feel any better, I love it.” She knew you didn’t want her to see it yet, but she couldn’t help it. Your art was one of her favorite things about you. How different and unique it was.

“You weren’t supposed to see it yet..” You whispered in a downhearted tone.

She kissed the top of your head and hugged her tighter. “I know, but I can’t help myself. Your art is so beautiful.” Gwen was trying to cheer you up since she knew how much pressure you put on yourself to make these projects perfect.

“And your muse is pretty hot, don’t you think?” She smirked and poked your cheek.

Letting out a chuckle, you let your lips curve into a small smile. “Yeah, she is. The prettiest muse ever.” You move your head to look up at her.

She smiled back at her and gave you a sweet peck on the lips. “Don’t worry about this, okay? You’re the best artist ever and probably better than everyone in your class. I’ve seen some of those works and damn- it’s awful.”

“Maybe we’ve seen different works because everyone in my class is advanced.”

She gasped. “You call Ned’s self portrait advanced?!”

“That’s different, he’s just really bad at art.” You stood up from your stool, let Gwen’s arm slide off of you. Picking up the canvas, you move it to your desk where it can hopefully dry. Then, you felt Gwen grab your waist as she turned you around to look at her.

“I love you, alright? And if you don’t get a good grade on this, just know that I still think you’re the best artist in the world.” She placed one hand on your hip and the other resting on your cheek, stroking it lovingly with her thumb.

“I love you too.” You replied in a soft tone. She smiled at you and leaned down to give you a kiss.

Pulling away, she moved her hand down into your pants pocket. “Now come on, I want to lay down together and binge a show. That’s why I came here.”

“Alright, you can pick.” You handed her your tv remote and crawled into your bed. She hopped in after you and laid her head down on your chest, letting you run your fingers through her hair.

As you and Gwen spent the rest of the night watching 90’s television shows, your art project slowly dried on your desk. Leaving bright, colorful watercolor marks as Gwen’s painted face stood still on the canvas.

She was really the prettiest muse you could ever have.

{ written by @loversrockxx please don’t steal 🙏🏽 }

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Nine. Minecraft Dating 101

warnings: swearing, mostly super freaking fluffy but some oopsies at the end (which is the barely-there angst that i mentioned before!!), pet names?? if that bothers you??? (like...... one or both of them might use baby.........) word count: 5.3k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: HEHEH SORRY ITS SO LONG SORRY hope you guys like it!!!! hope it lives up to your standards of minecraft dates lol also thank you guys all for all your suggestions!!! i loved all of them so much!!!! i would have added every idea except this was already 5k words so its much less “flirting” and more so “oh gosh im so nervous what am i supposed to do” from both of them so hehe i think thats more endearing anyway

**********

The familiar sound of a FaceTime call connecting rang in Y/n's ears and she held her phone up to her face. "Hi, Karl," she sighed.

"Y/N!!" he said with a cackle. "ARE YOU READY FOR YOUR DATE?!"

"Shut up, I'm doing this for you."

"I already gave you the tour though so really you could back out. You're choosing to stay." His voice was teasing and giddy. "Why's that, hmm?"

Heat rose instantly to Y/n's face. "Because I'm a woman of my word?"

"OkaAaAyy," he sang. "Or because you liiiiikeee himmm."

"Shhhut up, Karl. No, I don't."

"Suuuure."

"Is this why you called me?"

He giggled. "Yeah, but—"

Y/n disconnected the call and set her phone down with a small laugh and a shake of her head.

With her stream started and her chat greeted, the donation limit raised to $100 (both because she didn't want to be flooded with questions on the date and because she didn't want people to donate their hard-earned money), Y/n logged onto Dream's SMP and found the voice call Dream was in, George's name right under his.

After she clicked it to join, a small gasp emitted from her headphones before she heard Dream mutter something. "Get out, get out, leave."

George's voice was normal. "But I wanna—"

"GEORGE!" Dream yelled, making Y/n giggle.

"Fine!" George yelled back. "Have fun you two," he sang like Karl did before a sound from Discord told them that he left.

It was silent for a second before, "Hi."

"Hi." She giggled. "What was that about?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just some last minute, uh, setting up."

She hummed, amused at the sound of his frantic voice.

"So, um... are you ready for our date?"

"I don't even know where you are. I'm still in my house."

"Knock, knock," he said with a laugh. Y/n turned to see green peeking through the cutouts on her oak door and she laughed.

She ran to the door and opened it for him, revealing Dream in a slightly altered version of his Minecraft skin. He looked the same, except the white blob appeared to be wearing a necktie of some sort. "You look ridiculous," she admitted with a smile. "Wait, is this a fancy date? Should I change my skin?"

"It's not fancy, I just wanted to look my best for the prettiest girl in the world."

"Ohmygosh," she muttered to herself, hoping that writing off his charming words and actions as annoying would make her face not heat up as much. So far, it hadn't worked. Two minutes in and she was already blushing like a schoolgirl whose crush asked her to play tag at recess. "So, I'm not underdressed?"

"No, you're always perfect."

She didn't comment, opting for an eye-roll instead. Truthfully, she wanted to flirt back with him, try to make his heart beat fast like hers already was, but she was worried her words wouldn't come off joking and that the true intention would be obvious, that he'd be able to breeze right past the jovial tone and hear the sincerity in her words. Wait, true intention? What was her true intention? Her true intention should obviously be to just joke around and have some fun, but deep down she knew the motivation for teasing him came from somewhere different, somewhere more meaningful.

She wanted to tease him because she wanted to be the one to make him blush, to make him trip over his words and not know what to do with his hands.

Why? Well, she was still figuring that out.

"If you're ready, follow me, ma'am."

"Where are you taking me?" she asked as she followed his character down prime path.

"Hmmm..." he mused. "A secret, obviously."

"Obviously," she scoffed. She noticed that he was several blocks ahead of her and she smiled to herself. "Hey, Dream?"

"Hm?" he asked, spinning to face her as he ran backward.

"I don't know how many dates you've been on, but usually people walk together. You know, gives them an excuse to maybe hold hands or at least enjoy each other's company?" She made sure her voice had just the right balance of teasing and seriousness, curious as to how he would respond.

"I, uh... oh."

"Unless you want me to just meet you there. I mean, you're practically running away from me."

"I'm just excited!" he excused, stopping briefly so she could catch up with him.

"But look at how many beautiful things there around us to look at while we get to where we're going!" she told him. "Well, maybe not that," she said with a laugh as she punched her fist towards Tommy's dirt house. "But other things."

Dream laughed and continued to walk next to her like she requested, pausing if he ever got too far ahead. "How can I look at all those when the most beautiful thing is walking right next to me?"

She's never rolled her eyes so hard in her life. "Shut up," she mumbled as she punched him.

"OW! BUG!"

"That was supposed to be a pat on the arm but Minecraft only has one level of hitting and it's a punch. Sorry."

Dream wheezed briefly before containing his laughter. "This way," he instructed, getting off the path and starting into the woods.

"Oh, really you're trying to kill me. That's why you didn't want me to wear anything nice. Didn't want me to ruin any of my fancy stuff."

"Foiled my plans," he joked lightly. "Okay but really, um, I was thinking—well, so you already have a house but I was thinking we could build one together. Or build something, I don't know. But you're really good at building and I know you really enjoy it so I thought maybe you could show—like, teach me and then later I'll teach you something and then we can have a little picnic dinner."

Y/n smiled at her nervousness. "Hey, that actually sounds really fun!"

"What? What do you mean actually?" He laughed. "What, did you expect me to plan something boring?"

She laughed over his dramatic pouting. "No, but I mean, I didn't know what to expect," she said shyly. "I do have to say, though, I'm not sure what you plan on teaching me. I'm pretty much a master at all possible Minecraft skills, so..."

"Oh, really?" he taunted. "Everything?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her confidence wavering at his smooth voice.

"We'll see about that..."

"Unless you mean you're gonna teach me how to code Minecraft. That's a Minecraft skill I will admit I know nothing about."

"No, no, nothing like that," he said with a laugh.

"Good, save the programming talk for later."

"For laaater, hmmm?" he sang flirtatiously.

"Oh my gosh," she said through a laugh. "You would think that's what I meant."

"Hey, you're the one that said you think it's cute when I talk about coding. Maybe you're into that."

"I was saying it's sweet hearing you talk about stuff you like, you nerd. Why did you immediately think—what, is your idea of dirty talk talking about... like... computer viruses?"

"WhAT?"

"Hey girl, lemme clean out your motherboard," she mocked in a deep voice. "You overclock my processor. Lemme program your, uh—uh...hAHA, nevermind, ew, no."

"BUG?! WHAAAT? What is wrong with you?" His gasps for breath between wheezes made her laugh with him. "Don't ever talk like that again, pleASE."

"I won't, I won't, I'm sorry. Oh my gosh."

"Is that your idea of flirting? You are bad!"

"No, no, no!" She laughed. "I was making fun of you. No, I'm actually really good."

She couldn't stop giggling to herself for a few minutes, embarrassed but also proud of the reaction she got from Dream. She loved hearing him laugh as if he would never stop, it made her heart so happy to hear, especially when she was the one who caused it.

Though she feared her horrible pickup lines, if you could even call them that, were already clipped, ready to be used against her for the rest of her life. Worth it. Probably.

They approached a cleared-out area in the woods and Dream stopped and turned to Y/n. "So, we're here. What should we build?"

"Oh, so now I have to plan? Wow, you are so underprepared," she joked.

"What, no! I originally... I wanted to build a, like, a house together because I didn't— I forgot you made your—your house already and—but since you already have one—"

"We can still build a house," she interrupted with a soft voice. Him fumbling over his words was very endearing but also very confusing. How serious was he taking this bit? Or was he... actually nervous? She was actually nervous but she had reasons to be: a huge live audience to entertain and not ignore, and the weird staticky, itchy feeling in her tummy every time Dream spoke to her. Both valid reasons to be nervous. What was his excuse?

"Really? You wanna build a home together?"

Heat rose to her cheeks at his wording and she hummed. "Mhm. You can be my secret lover I hide in my vacation home. Like a second life kinda deal."

He scoffed. "Oh, now I'm just your side piece, Bug?"

"Nah, you're my main bitch, baby. I just wanna hide you away to keep you for myself because I'm selfish."

There was silence on his end for a few moments, making Y/n's face practically catch fire as she thought about her words. Why did she say that?? How can he flirt all the time but as soon as she says something: dead silence.

"Well.... shhhhhit," he finally mumbled definitively.

"You wanted me to flirt with you, Dream. You literally asked me too!" She laughed, trying to cover up her embarrassment. It had been less than 20 minutes and she already made a fool of herself.

"I did, I did, I just—wow. Come on, that was... I didn't expect you to go from never flirting to calling me baby!"

"Too much?" she bit her lip as she waited for him to explain if it was a good or bad thing.

He paused again. "....no."

She laughed loudly, pulling her hoodie collar up to her face in an attempt to rid herself of the giddiness and heat on her face. Like anyone could see anyway.

"So, a house?"

"A house."

"What kind of house do you think we should build together, Dream?"

"Maybe...." he thought as he ran around the area. "Maybe, like, a log cabin? Since we're in a forest. It's fitting..."

"Very true, very true..." she thought. "I was thinking a castle was more suited for you, king, but a cabin works too."

"Bug!" he yelled, laughter bubbling up in his voice. "What is wrong with you?"

"What?" she said defensively, giggling.

"You're a handful today," he groaned under his breath and she smiled. Though his words said one thing, Y/n could tell he was enjoying her energy.

"So, a dinky, old cabin, or what?"

"Whatever you want to build," he sighed.

"You always this agreeable?"

"Only to you."

"Well, I honestly don't have much practice with building cabins and since I want to show off my skills, I mean, that's the whole point of this, right? For me to impress you with my skills?"

Dream laughed so she continued.

"I think we should build a treehouse."

"A treehouse?"

"Mhm. What do you think? I make a pretty bomb treehouse."

"That sounds awesome!" he agreed. "Oh, and it could go from, like, one tree to another and, like, connect with a bridge! Like, the living room on one and the bedroom on another."

"Yeah, exactly! Okay, it's settled."

"What do we need? What do you want me to do?"

"I'm thinking.... we use cobblestone?"

Dead silent. Literally no noise until a few moments later, ".......Bug. This might be a deal-breaker."

"I'm joooking! You think I'd build something out of cobblestone? Who am I, Tommy? No, what's your favorite wood?"

"Dark oak."

"GOOD. Me too. So.... we need dark oak. Or, wait! Okay, hear me out."

"I'm hearing..." Dream prompted as he pressed A and D on his keyboard back and forth, earning a giggle from Y/n. He character was bouncing left and right is excitement.

"Dark oak planks..." she started.

"Mhm."

"Stone bricks..."

"Go on."

"And green wool for accents."

"Well, now you're just pandering."

"No!" she laughed. "Not, like, lime wool. Green wool. It's close to you but not as... obnoxiously blinding."

"I trust your vision. I'll go get materials."

"Perfect, you're the best, Dweam."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled before laughing. "You pick out a tree you think would be best for the main part."

40 minutes later, they were nowhere near being done. Y/n had shown him how to make a good house layout after he placed the floor in the shape of a square. She had yelled at him for it first, of course. They also had the frame of the walls and one bridge but nothing on the other side of said bridge. Not wanting the stream to last six hours since this was only the first part of the date, Y/n made a suggestion.

"What if...."

"What if what?" Dream asked, pausing to look at her character, who had stopped fixing his mistakes. "Did I mess something up?"

"No, I was just thinking. What if we make this the whole house and do a little garden on the other side of the bridge? Or like a little cute thing."

"A little cute thing?" Dream laughed.

"You know, like a thing," she said, knowing she hadn't clarified anything. "I forgot this is only date one, you can't read my mind yet."

"Oh, so there are gonna be future dates? I thought this was just to pay off your debt?"

She paused, playing with her hoodie strings between her left hand. "Well, I guess we'll see."

Dream laughed. "So, what little cute thing did you want to make?"

"We could put a bench facing the sunset and have some potted flowers and hang lanterns and stuff."

"Oh, like a romantic spot?"

"I guess if you wanna think of it like that."

"Sounds cute," he said. "So, we have to change the layout in here then?"

"Nah, I mean, we can just not add a kitchen, we obviously don't need one anyway."

"True. Then all we need is to put our bed down, right?"

"Beds," Y/n corrected.

"Well, when they're together it looks like one big bed."

"Who said we're putting out beds together?"

"Buuuuggg..." he whined. "Come on... lemme put my bed next to yours."

She giggled again. What was with all the giggling, sheesh. "No. There's plenty of space, put it somewhere else." She placed her white bed down in the corner and went across the bridge to bring her idea to life, or, to Minecraft.

It only took about ten minutes and she finished when Dream spoke again. "I think I'm done."

"I am too! Let's take one final look around." She went back inside and immediately noticed his bed right next to hers. She stared at his character and he laughed.

"Whaaat?" he asked shyly and she just sighed, letting it happen. They took a look around and agreed that it was basically the best treehouse in the entire universe, both in Minecraft and real life.

"Bug, you're so good at building," Dream complimented as he ran around the house. "What's your favorite part?"

"Ummm...." She looked around before deciding on the bridge. "I like how you made the bridge. And I like the little touches you added to it. It's nice."

"Thanks! I think the 'little cute thing' you did is the best part."

"Shut up, I can't stand you," she scoffed. "But thanks."

"Hey, Bug?" Dream asked, leading her back into the house. He faced the two beds placed together and she prepared herself for the worst joke of all time. "Is this where all the programming talk happens?"

"I knew it! I knew you were gonna say that! Shut up!" She punched Dream as he laughed loudly and she couldn't stop smiling. "You're such a nerd. You're so annoying."

"OH! I have an idea, wait here."

***

It had been a solid eight and a half minutes of Y/n waiting for Dream and he showed no signs of returning. He was silent too, so she resorted to saying random things to get him to crack.

"When will my husband return from war?" she joked, her voice laced with sadness and longing.

There was a small suppressed laugh from his mic, but still no words.

"Sometimes I think I can still hear him laughing at me."

He must have gotten reeeaaalll close to his mic, because his next words, the first ones he had spoken in almost ten minutes, were whispered but she felt like he was in her ear. "I'll be home soon, baby."

Once again, she was so glad her chat couldn't see her because she literally shivered and her face was so warm she felt like she was glowing.

For the first time all stream, her eyes betrayed her and she looked at her chat as she pulled her hoodie collar up to her face.

user18: BUGSY BEIN REEEAL QUIET

user4: i think i just passed out

user11: wHAT ON EARTH DREAM ADKXKH

user7: BUGSY ON GOD BE REAL WITH US WTF IS GOING ON RN

user2: hey bestie i cant do this rn

user9: they can't talk to each other like that and say they're just friends pleASE

Also for the first time all stream, someone dared to donate at her limit (which, again, was ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS).

karakatara donated $100 I had to donate bc I just HAD to tell you how cute you and dream are! honestly my favorite couple ever and I was just wondering how long you've been dating??? love you and your videos!!!!!

It was $100. She had to answer it. Meaning, she had to use words after Dream said that like that and she wasn't sure that was physically possible right now.

"Aren't you going to answer?" Dream taunted.

"Wha—what, are you—you stream watching, you weirdo?" she forced out. "Why?"

"I wanted to read your chat, they're really funny."

"I haven't been reading it."

"What, why? They've been so funny this whole time."

"I've been too scared to."

"Too scared? Of what?"

Of the jokes that she wanted to be real? Of seeing something so cute only to break her heart when she remembers it's all a joke? Of seeing someone hate her for being so close to Dream? Many things.

"Of seeing something... that boosts your ego."

"What? Oh, come on. Hey, answer the dono. Someone gave you their hard earned money for that."

"Yeah, wait, chat, I had the limit that high so you DON'T donate! Why on earth would you—"

"You're avoiding the question."

"We aren't actually dating! Not actually a couple!" she said with a laugh, though something in her heart was very much against laughing at that fact. "Obviously not."

"Well, it's only the first date, so, we'll see I guess, but..."

"I cannot stand you. Thank you so much for the dono, though, Karakatara. You're insane for... yeah. Thank you so much." She turned her attention back to Dream. "Actually though are you ever coming back?"

"Yeah, what, I'm almost there. I see the you staring out the window. ."

When he got inside, he dropped a blue cornflower for Y/n and stepped back. "Okay, now, give that to me."

She followed, not understanding. "For you, Dream." She dropped the flower.

"Aw, Bug! That's so kind! Aw! Thank you! Here's a flower for you, too!" He dropped her a red poppy and then put two item frames on the wall above their beds. He put the blue cornflower above his bed and she followed by putting the red one above hers. "Now that's my favorite part of the house."

"You didn't want to use the real ones? What, did you lose my flower or something?"

"Hell no!" he defended loudly. "No, I just don't want someone to steal that one. It's in my enderchest for safe-keeping."

He said it so casually like it was no big deal, but her heart soared. She too had his flower in her enderchest.

"This," she said dramatically with a sigh, "is now a treehome."

***

"I already told you I'm the best PVP player out there."

"Bug, honey, I've seen you play Bedwars. You're trash."

"Hey!" Hehe, honey. Shut up brain.

"But that's okay! I'm here to teach you."

Y/n's character stood across a makeshift battlefield from Dream's, an axe in hand and armor that was definitely donated by DreamXD on her body. "This is kinda sexist of you. Assuming I know how to name a cute house but not fight."

"Oh no, that's not—crap. Bug, I'm only basing this off of your streams, which I watch all the time—"

Once again, he said something so casual and yet it still made her heart skip three beats and once again, she grabbed the collar of her hoodie and pulled it up to hide her face. This thing had to be stretched by now from how often it was yanked on in this stream alone.

"—and don't get me wrong, you're great! But you're also good at a lot of stuff and—"

"Dream!" she giggled out. "I'm teasing. I admit you're much better than me."

"I wouldn't say much better but... it's the only thing I could possibly teach you anything about because you're just so good at Minecraft." His tone was sarcastic at this point but she knew he was meaning what he said.

"Whatever. Come on, Dream, show me how it's done."

He actually had a lot of very useful tips that Y/n otherwise would have never thought about. I guess when you tryhard Minecraft, she thought, you learn a thing or two about pvp. It was a complete joke, but she still kept it to herself.

"I could basically beat anyone now," she said confidently.

"Yeah, basically. Except maybe Technoblade."

"Nah, even him."

"Let's see how good you really are. To the death."

"What?" She laughed. "You're gonna try to kill me on our date?"

"Yeah, scared?" Seconds later, a creeper exploded near Dream and he screeched, jumping back. Y/n lost it. She laughed loudly, clutching her stomach.

"Dr-Dream!" She laughed. "What the hell was that?"

"It scared me!" he argued. "Here, I'll protect you," he offered, running past her and killing a skeleton that was shooting towards her.

"I don't need protecting, especially from you! Besides, if you're trying to kill me, you'd let the mobs get me."

"No," he decided. "No one's allowed to kill my Bug."

She was literally going to explode. "Wh—"

"Only I get to."

"Dream!" she scoffed, running to kill the skeleton first. She succeeded and he pouted.

"Hey—I did more damage than you, you just had the final hit."

"Really? Cause to me it looks like I'm your knight in shining armor."

"Nuh-uh," he spat.

"Dream. F5 right now, you're covered in arrows."

There was a pause. "Oh whatever." He hit her once and that's all it took for them to start fighting, throwing jokes and taunts at each other the whole time, eventually resulting in a satisfying win for her.

Dream was slain by Bugsy

"WHAT?! HOW?"

<Tubbo> i thogt you were on a date <Ranboo> well definitley not anymore <Ranboo> is that canon <JackManifoldTV> WOMEN

"What was that about you being better than me?" Y/n teased.

"Oh, come ON! I still had damage from the skeleton, and besides, I taught you everything you know!"

"That just makes you a very good teacher, Dream," she said sincerely and he paused, probably expecting her to insult him instead of compliment him.

"Yeah, suck up now that you've murdered me."

***

They were finally at their final stop, three hours into the stream. Not too bad on time, though this was probably the longest Minecraft date in the history of Minecraft dates. Also the best, but maybe Y/n was biased.

There was a huge tree, obviously built instead of naturally generated, with lanterns hanging down and lighting areas of the dark world around them. Under that was a checkered pattern of carpet, a single chest in the center with a potted plant sitting next to it.

"The carpet is supposed to look like a, uh, what's it called... picnic blanket?" Dream explained as they approached the scene, clearly not happy with how it turned out. "It looks weird. Nothing compared to the treehouse you built."

"We built," she corrected. "And this looks awesome, Dream," Y/n complimented. "It's is also my favorite colors."

"Yeah, I had some help from Karl on that one."

She leaned back in her chair in real life and pressed her hands to her face. Oh, it was so unfair how cute he was when he was shy like this. She glanced at chat, which only made her face go from the temperature of molten lava to basically the sun. She was going to explode.

She hummed, a little giggle coming out as well. "That's cute."

She sat (crouched) on the picnic blanket (piece of carpet) while Dream put a disc in the jukebox off to the side.

"Is that a Tommy disc?" she giggled and Dream laughed.

"No, no, no, don't worry. There shouldn't be any continuations of wars interrupting our date."

"Shouldn't be," she emphasized, noticing someone approaching them from the distance.

Dream was about to speak when Quackity reached them and quickly joined the voice channel.

"Oh no," Dream sighed. "We've come so far."

"AYYEEE WHAT'S GOING ON, MAN?!" Quackity yelled in his Mexican Dream voice, his voice bubbling with laughter. "IS THIS A DATE OR SOMETHING, MAN?"

"Quackity, go AWAY!" Dream ordered, punching the character who had stripped to his underwear. "YOU'RE INDECENT! THERE IS A LADY HERE!"

Y/n laughed, enjoying the scene of fancy Dream hitting naked Quackity away from their picnic dinner.

"I'm your waiter, I'm your waiter!" Quackity said in his normal voice, still laughing. "DREAM! WILL YOU STO— QUIT HITTING ME!"

This had turned chaotic very quickly.

"We don't need a waiter," Dream informed him.

"Then I'm the singing gram you ordered." He started singing a song and Dream groaned. "HEY THERE DELILAH WHAT'S IT LIKE IN NEW YORK CITY—"

"No! You're being a clout chaser, go away!"

"I'm honestly impressed we made it this far without anyone coming into the voice channel," Y/n admitted.

"I paid them," Dream joked.

"You did not!" Karl's voice suddenly came through and Y/n laughed. "We were all just being polite and staying away but we're getting bored! We've been so patient!"

"Yeah, hurry up! We wanna play!!!" Sapnap whined. "Dream, it's not fair for you to steal Bugsy from us for so long."

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed with a laugh as Dream laughed along.

"Just ten minutes! Ten more minutes!" Dream bargained but none of them would have it. "Just so I can say goodbye!"

"No!" George insisted. "Right now!"

"Look, wait, wait, hold on—"

<Sapnap joined the game> <GeorgeNotFound joined the game> <KarlJacobs joined the game>

"—hold ON!" Dream begged, watching as the three boys ran and joined Quackity by the picnic blanket.

Y/n could not stop laughing at all the avatars around them. The date had been so peaceful and cute but all good things must come to a chaotic end.

"Wait, come on, Karl, Karl, Karl," Dream said quickly. "Come here. Bug, just a sec, please. Stay right there."

"Okay," she agreed, curious to see his plan.

Karl followed him and of course Sapnap couldn't help but also join them.

"Okay," Dream whispered loudly, clearly wanting everyone to hear his offer. He crouched and the other two copied. "Just give me ten minutes—"

"Ten?" Sapnap asked loudly.

"Shhh!!! Yes, ten minutes, to say goodbye and, you know, end the date."

There was a long, thick pause. "What exactly are your intentions with Bugsy Games," Karl asked seriously, matching Dream's whisper.

"Well, I wanna make sure she gets home safe, you know, so I'm gonna drop her off and, I don't know, see if maybe.... maybe she'll give me a hug?"

Karl and Sapnap both gasped dramatically and Y/n giggled, sparing a glance at her chat who were all freaking out.

"What the hell?" Quackity said while laughing. He and George were still standing near Y/n so they were just watching the goons with her.

"Bugsy is not that kind of girl!" Sapnap protested. "You think she's just gonna give you a hug?"

"Sapnap! Do you not know how to whisper???"

George let a loud laugh slip before slapping his hand over his mouth, which his mic picked up.

"Okay, Dream, wait, so you're gonna try to... hug her?" Karl clarified. "She won't even let me hug her. Good luck."

"Well, I'm not going to force her into anything but, I don't know, she said something about holding my hand earlier so I just thought maybe there's a possibility—"

"WHAT?" Karl yelled before going back to the whisper. "Okay, okay, don't panic, but that's huge. Dadnap, a word?"

He and Sapnap broke off from Dream and formed their own huddle, except their whispers were incoherent mumblings that weren't even English.

"Oh my gosh," Y/n groaned loudly, an unmistakable laugh behind her words.

"Okay," Sapnap said, rejoining Dream. "We'll give you five minutes but if you take any longer, we're barging in and killing you."

"Yes, sir!" Dream said. "Thank you, sirs."

"Mhm. Okay, break!"

They all uncrouched in sync before Dream ran back to Y/n.

"How did it go?" she asked as if she didn't hear the entire conversation.

"Bad news," he started. "Your dad's want you home."

"Shame, I was quite enjoying my time."

Dream slowly turned towards the boys as if to glare at them for ending the date before turning back to her. "Then, maybe, I don't know, we could do this again sometime?"

"I.... think I'd like that," she said slowly, trying to tease him.

He giggled and told her he was going to drop her off at her house, even though when the date was over, they were all probably gonna mess around together anyway so there was no point in them leaving the group. But it was the thought that counted.

He ended up taking her back to the treehouse, which warmed her heart. She also noticed when they faced each other at front of the door, she could see the four other boys watching them.

"Goodnight, my sweet Bug," he said poshly.

"Goodnight, Dream." He turned away but she stopped him. "Wait!" She moved to his side and made a loud, MUAH, sound before stepping back in front of him. "A kiss on the cheek," she clarified, not wanting him to think she gave him a real kiss.

"Cute," he said under his breath, almost like he didn't mean to say it out loud. "Night night." He turned away and ran down to the others, screaming the whole way. "GUYS, DID YOU SEE THAT? BUG GAVE ME A KISS ON THE CHEEK!! OMG DID YOU SEE, DID YOU SEE?"

Chat was gonna have a field day with that. Actually, with a lot of things that had happened. Oh, she could see the clips and edits now.... oh boy.

**********

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[forever-rogue]

Wonder

A/N: This is completely unwarranted and unnecessary, but I was in a mood, so please enjoy some Javier softness.

Pairing: Javier x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: mild language

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javier ran his hands over his tired face before letting out a long sigh. His whiskey glass had long been emptied, his pack of smokes long gone, and the letters and numbers on the pages in front of him swimming. It was late, far too late for him to still be sitting in his office, but here he was...once again. After rubbing the bleariness from his dry, tired eyes, he stared at the ceiling, mentally preparing to drag his tired body up from the chair and head home. At least he had you to come home to. It was something he’d never imagined, but in reality, there was nothing better than coming back after a long day and crawling into bed with you.

“Hello Handsome,” before he could get too lost in his fantasies of you, it was your very voice that pulled him back into reality. Quickly sitting up and straightened himself, a smile graced his features as he drank you in. You were dressed in pajamas - topped off with one of his old, threadbare sweaters. Perfect.

“Hi cariño,” his dark eyes seemed to grow lighter and they softened as you walked over and hopped onto the edge of his desk. Javier wasted no time in standing up and caging you in with his arms, his face near yours, lips brushing yours ever so lightly, “it’s late pretty girl, what are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” you closed the gap and offered him a gentle, slow kiss. Your hands went to his shoulders and slowly wrapped around his neck and held him close, causing him to practically melt into your touch and wrap his own arms around your waist, “it’s late and I was missing you. I thought you might need me to drag you home and it turned out I was right.”

“I was just-”

“Finishing up,” you finished his sentence, causing him to make a sound between a sigh and laugh, “I know how you are, Javi, and I know you’ve been working way too much. Come on - come home with me. Humor me for at least one night. I’ve got dinner and everything waiting for you.”

A few different looks crossed his features before eventually he swallowed the lump in his throat but gave you a nod. Pressing a kiss to his nose, you slid off the desk and took his hand in yours as you pulled towards the door. Javier hesitated for a moment, causing you to turn around with a worried expression on your face.

“Javier? Is everything alright?”

“I…” he paused for a moment, opening and closing mouths and looking utterly lost. Eventually he shook his head to himself, “i-it’s nothing. Let’s go home, cariño.”

“I love you, Javi,” you laced your fingers together before giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He squeezed back, a sign of reassurance that the two of you had developed.

“...love you too…”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was an early morning, but as luck would have it, you were already up and flitting about the apartment, cleaning up and organizing things in the midst of making breakfast. You were a creature of habit, and your job required you to be early, which you tended to do on weekends as well. 

Doing your best to keep quiet and let Javier sleep in was a challenge, but normally you were a pro at it. Today however, it proved to be a herculean feat as everything seemed to slip from your hands or make a ton of extraneous noise.

After the tin of coffee slipped and fell to the hardwood floor, making the most racket you had ever heard, you were ready to give up.

"Fuck," you hissed under your breath as you hastily tried to clean up the mess of discarded grounds. It was an effort in vain as you panicked and tried to scoop them back up; a small, pathetic sound left your lips. 

“Cariño,” his voice was thick and croaky with sleep as he looked at you. Despite your annoyance at your butter fingers and the mess and the noise, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. He was only sporting his boxers, his dark locks were tousled, eyes still bleary with sleep, light, patchy scruff covering his face, “what’s going on, baby? Do you need a hand?”

“Oh, my love,” your face flushed as he rubbed the heel of his palms against his puffy eyes as he kneeled down to help you, “I-I am so sorry, Javi. I was just doing some cleaning and trying to make breakfast. I’m afraid I am making a mess of everything so far. I wanted to let you sleep in.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered softly, brushing a lot of hair out of your face, “it wasn’t you - I just don’t sleep as well without you anyway. Lemme help.”

“Javier,” you put your hand on his cheek and gently brushed your thumb across the soft, warm skin, “it’s your day off. Get back into bed and sleep a little longer. I’ll have breakfast and coffee soon.”

“What if I don’t want to?” keening into your touch, he turned to press a gentle kiss to your palm, “or you come back with me.”

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Javi,” you beamed at him. With his help, you managed to finish cleaning up and set the can back on the counter. You reached out a hand to your lover and slowly hoisted him back to his feet, pulling him closer as the two of you studied each other, “back to bed, mister.”

“Nuh uh,” he insisted firmly, his large, warm hands finding your hips as he fluidly hoisted you on the counter and stood between your legs. Placing your hands on his freckled, tan skin, you leaned in and kissed along his shoulder. He must not have been expecting your action because he was barely able to choke back a moan, “baby…”

“You wanted to stay out here,” you grinned as you buried your face into his shoulder, nipping gently at his skin, “take what you can get, Javi.”

“I get way more than I deserve,” he promised as he pulled back and put a finger under chin, turning face up to meet his, “I mean it - you are way too good for me. I have no clue why you stay with me sometimes.”

“Shush,” you pressed a finger to his lips, shaking your head in the process, “I love you for you, Javier. You don’t have to see what I see - but please know that I love you more than you will ever know. You’re a good man, Javi, even if you don’t see it yet, but it’s true. If I have to, I will keep reminding you every single day just how much I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered as you slowly removed your finger but grabbed his face and nuzzled your nose against his, “I can’t wait until the day we get out of here and can go and make a home somewhere new - just us.”

“I can’t wait for that either,” you grinned, “it’ll be just us, maybe a dog - oh and a cat - and that’s it. It’ll be good enough for me. I just want you there.”

“Baby...I-”

Before Javi could say anything else, the oven dinged in a shrill, high pitched sound, signaling that your muffins were finished baking. 

“Oh!” you pressed a kiss to his cheek before delicately nudging him out of your way and reaching for the oven mitts, “I made your favorite! Lemon-blueberry with poppy seeds. I picked up some fresh fruit at the market yesterday.”

“Y-you made them for me?” he watched you with wide eyes as you turned and gave him an of course type expression, “you didn’t...have to.”

“I wanted to,” you insisted softly, “for your day off. It was supposed to be a surprise, but obviously I ruined that! Now - get back to bed and rest and I’ll finish all of this.”

“Nope,” he insisted as crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m helping you finish, and then we’ll get back into bed together. Si?”

“Si, Javier.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Stop!" you chased after the small, wiry little dog with ears much too big as he decided it was play time in the garden. You'd just set all the new flowers and bulbs that you were planning on planting that day but Stevie decided that he had other plans.

He paused momentarily and looked back at you, tail wagging madly as he barked and stole one of the bulbs before running again.

"Stevie! You're cheating! You've got four legs and I need to plant that!" you huffed lightly as you tried to slow him down to no avail. Unfortunately, you'd completely forgotten about all the holes you’d already dug to plant your new arrivals...and promptly proceeded to trip and fall. At this you didn’t fall onto the desk, but tumbled into the soft soil, landing with a small oof. 

The bulb dropped from Stevie’s mouth as he frantically ran over to you, trying to make sure you were okay. You wanted to be annoyed, but couldn’t find it in your heart to be so, instead falling into a fit of giggles at your own misfortune and the soft, wet nosed kisses that were being pressed all over your face.

“Now you’re playing dirty on top of it,” you laughed at the little dog as you managed to get back up on your feet. Scooping up the forgotten bulb you showed it to him before bringing your arm back and throwing it across the across. He yipped excitedly before running after it as you shook your head in amusement before trying to brush off some of the direct that was all over your clothes.

“What the hell happened?” you turned and found Javier opened the sliding glass door to the backyard, an expression of confusion and amusement clouded his features as he pulled off his aviators, “are you okay?”

“Hi honey!” you gave him a sheepish wave, “I’m okay - we’re both okay - just ummm...playing?”

“In the dirt?”

“Uh huh…”

“Uh huh honey,” he mused as he set his sunglasses on the table and walked over to you. When he spied the gardening supplies he quickly put two and two together, “Let me guess - playing involved him stealing something and you...tripping?”

“Perhaps,” you grinned as Javier reached over and tenderly brushed some of the dirt that was smudged across your face away, “you’re home early? What happened?”

“Such a nice day,” he mused with a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders, “decided to take advantage of it and left the office early. I thought maybe we could barbecue or something tonight, spend some time in the sun.”

“Oh Javi, that sounds wonderful!” you couldn’t help but throw your arms around him and pull him close. It wasn’t until afterwards that you realized you’d probably gotten him as dirty as you were, “oh no. I’m sorry...I think I just ruined your shirt…”

“You really think I care about that?”

“No,” you agreed with a grin, “but that one’s my favorite on you - tight in all right places. It’d be a shame to see it ruined. Perhaps you should take it off…”

“Aye, cálmate,” he shook his head in amusement as you pouted your lips at him, “how about I go and change into something more comfortable, I’ll start the grill and we can finish planting your new flowers?”

“Fine,” you pouted, causing him to press a kiss to your lips, “I’m glad you’re home, Javi. I’ve missed you. Is it bad to say that life in the suburbs is almost too quiet?”

“Are you telling me that you prefer the craziness and danger of Colombia?” he quirked a brow in amusement as you vehemently shook your head.

“Definitely not,” you insisted, “I like this - boring quiet life. It’s just different, and I’m sure we’ll get used to it. I like coming home every evening and having you there, and knowing that you’re working across the city, safe and sound. But promise me one thing?”

“Anything,” he put his hand on your cheek before pressing a kiss to your temple.

“We won’t become boring old people that never do anything that end up hating each other…”

“That will never happen,” he laughed, “not with you - with us. That much you’ll never have to worry about, pretty girl.”

“Good,” you grinned, “now get changed and help me with the manual labor! You may be retired from the DEA, but you’re not retired from husband duties-”

You froze in panic as soon as the word left your lips. You had meant to use that word, not really anyway. While it may have been what Javier was to you, and in turn you to him, but you never officially crossed that bridge. It was something that had been on your mind, especially after settling down in your quaint Texas neighborhood, but you’d never brought it up much. Neither of you needed a piece of paper to tell you that you were husband and wife...but in some ways you wouldn’t have minded it…

“Javi, I didn’t mean it...like that...just a turn of phrase,” your face felt warm under his curious gaze but he remained silent for a long moment before nodding slowly, “it’s...you know I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. A piece of paper doesn’t change anything. It’s you - it’s always been you.”

“I know baby,” he promised, his soft smile appearing back on his face as you relaxed. The last thing you ever wanted was for him to feel pressured in asking you to marry him. Even if it never happened, it would be okay; Javier wasn’t going anywhere and neither were you, “I love you. Let me get changed and I’ll be back.”

“I love you too, Javi.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Luna!” you ran across the kitchen, attempting to stop her from running away with the kitchen scissors in her chubby little first, “no, no, no! Come on, baby! Stop for Mama!”

She squealed in delight as she toddled away from you, her dark curls bobbing wildly Luckily, she’d only really mastered the art of walking, and barely running, somewhat recently and it wasn’t hard to catch up to her. An arm went around her waist as you swooped her up and quickly snatched the scissors out of her gasp and set them on the table. You’d actually knocked them off the counter and she was quick as lightning when it had come to picking them up. 

“You silly little thing,” you breathed a sigh of relief as you held the toddler tightly against your chest, but not before smothering her in little kisses. She giggled happily before babbling at you and attempting to put her little arms around your neck, “you just have to keep me on my toes, huh? Just like your Papa!”

At the mention of Javier, her eyes lit up and she grinned, showing off her little grin and the singular dimple she had definitely inherited from her father. Ruffling her curls, you pressed a kiss to the top of her head before you dragged her high chair into the kitchen and set her down in it. She loved being around the two of you, even if it was one at a time, and was an observant, curious toddler that loved watching whatever was going on.

“Alright, little Miss Luna,” you turned back and gestured to everything on the counter, ”tonight we’re going to make my favorite dessert, but your Papa’s favorite meal. I called your grandpapa and he walked me through each step so I can make it perfectly. You grandmama used to make it for him all the time when he was a kid. I figure we can make it for time as a surprise!”

You threw your arms wide open in excitement as she giggled and clapped her little hands, “and I expect all of your help - my expert sous chef!”

Almost as if she understood, she appeared to nod as you grabbed a cutting board and knife, along with some of the vegetables. You took your time, making sure everything was uniformly and evenly sliced, explaining it all to her, in between telling her some stories about Javier. The appropriate for an almost 18 month old versions, of course.

“You know,” you dumped the sliced vegetables into the big pot, “sometimes we didn’t always get along when we first met. He was stubborn and hardheaded...just like now, but I knew I loved him from the start. We met at work you know, in Colombia. I worked at the embassy building and he worked for the DEA…it was...well, I’ll tell you the nitty gritty when you’re older. But just know that we went through a lot, and we didn’t always get along, but I always loved him. And I like to flatter myself and think he always loved me too.”

“He did,” the sound of Javier’s voice caused you to jump and almost drop the wooden spoon in your hand as you turned around and found him walking into the kitchen. As soon as Luna spotted him, she made grabby arms for him all while excitedly calling out papa! 

“I didn’t even hear you come in, nosy!” you playfully chided him as he leaned over to press a gentle, saccharine kiss to your lips, “how long have you been home, honey?”

“Just long enough,” he grinned, “long enough to watch this little brat decide she wanted to start a life of crime! I thought you were supposed to be sweet, Princesa!”

He held her up in the air as she laughed before giving her cheeks a couple of big kisses, “she takes after her father!”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he snorted in amusement as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for an embrace. He stilled for a moment and you listened to the steady beat of his heart as held the two of you, “my favorite girls.”

“Javier…”

“Marry me?” he asked after a beat of contemplative silence. You were so surprised, you pulled back and looked into his eyes, brows knitting together in confusion as you were sure you hadn’t heard him correctly. He laughed as if he could read your thoughts before pressing his forehead against yours, “I mean it, baby. Will you marry me? Finally?”

“Yes,” it was said without hesitation, without a moment of doubt, “of course. Of course I’ll marry you, Javi.”

“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to ask?” he said, almost nervous as you softened under his gaze, “how many times I almost did? How long I’ve had that ring hidden away?”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he laughed at your expression, “so many times, baby. I just...I didn’t want to ruin what we had...what if you had said no?”

“I never would have.”

“I know, I guess I always knew…”

“Why now?”

“It just felt like the perfect time. I couldn’t have asked for more...and I just wanted to. I love you, and Luna, more than you will ever know…”

“We love you too, Javier. More than you will ever know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[ssahotchhner]

till death do us part

just a lil something about the reader and hotch breaking up, but the reader doesn’t know the real reason the relationship ended. lemme know what you think and what you’d like to see from me next (:

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: nothing except a car accident i’m pretty sure, brief mention of guns. mostly pure fluff and angst (:

questions, comments, concerns

You roughly wipe the tears on your cheeks with the heel of your hand, annoyed at yourself for crying.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N, this isn’t how I wanted things to go.” Aaron’s watching you put all your things in a cardboard box.

“It’s fine, Aaron.”

He sighs and out of the corner of your eye you see the way his hands twitch at his sides. He’s so used to being the one to comfort you, he doesn’t know what to do with himself when he’s the reason you’re in pain. 

You finish packing the box and walk to the door of his apartment. Jack sees you and runs after you, “Y/N, you just got here! Why are you leaving? Can’t we play first?”

You take a deep shuddering breath and turn back around to face Jack, forcing a smile. “Not today buddy, another time.” You kneel to his level and reach out to ruffle his hair, “I promise, okay?”

He frowns at you, “Why are you crying?”

Aaron runs a hand over his face, clearly upset about having now upset not one, but two of his favorite people.

“I’m just sad, buddy, but I’ll be okay.”

“But why are you sad? Did Daddy do something wrong?”

Fuck, that kid is perceptive. “No, honey, Daddy and I both decided that it would be better if we didn’t see each other for a while.”

“Then why are you sad?”

“Because sometimes, even though you know something is for the best, it can still make you very sad.”

Jack’s still frowning and he reminds you so much of his dad, it’s stifling, “Am I ever going to see you again?”

It’s all you can do to keep your face from crumpling, even Aaron has to turn away, “Of course, Jack. We’ll still hang out, I promise.”

“Jack, why don’t you go play in your room now, I’ll be there in a minute.”

When Jack is out of sight, you sigh and put your face in your hands. Holding in your sobs, but just barely.

“I’m sorry,” It’s the most emotion you’ve heard in his voice this whole time, “I--I should have told him myself.”

You rise to standing, “It’s okay.” You pick up your box of belongings, “You’re sure this is what you want?” You know the answer, but you have to ask another time.

He looks at you hopelessly, “I’m sorry.” 

You were getting sick of hearing that phrase. You only nod and then open his door, walking down the hallway without looking back.

***

“Y/N, we’re all going out for burgers tonight, you coming?” Morgan plants himself on your desk and both Prentiss and Reid look around him hopefully.

“Hotch too?”

Morgan stares at you a moment, “You know, he asked the same about you?”

“Hm, strange.” You muse, not looking up from your report, “You can tell him I’m not coming, I have reports to finish.” Morgan plucks your pen from your hand, “Hey!”

“I know you guys are obviously going through something right now, but we’re still a family. I know he still cares about you and you still care about him.”

You sigh, “I know. I just can’t handle seeing him outside of a professional setting right now,” You look away from him as your eyes water, “It hurts too much.”

Morgan puts a hand over yours, “Okay. We’re all just a phone call away, alright? Don’t work too late.”

“I won’t,” You give him a small smile, “You guys have fun tonight.”

He smiles back and leans over to kiss your head, “Not without you, we won’t.”

They all say goodbye to you and Hotch walks out of his office, telling the others he’ll catch up with them in a minute. He walks down into the bullpen and stands in front of your desk, “I don’t have to go tonight if you want to go.”

“Aaron, don’t do this. I've already made up my mind. Go with them, they’re waiting. I have reports to do anyway.”

“I’m the unit chief, I know you don’t owe me any reports.”

You sigh, “I’m fine. Please just go.”

“I don’t want it to always be like this.”

“It won’t. I’ll move on eventually, but right now…” You chew the inside of your cheek and look away from him, “I still love you too damn much.”

He stands there for a few more moments and then he starts to back away, “Don’t stay here too late.” He says quietly and he’s gone before you can reply.

With everyone gone, you sigh deeply and lay your head on the desk for a while. You’d been on this team for six years now. Three of those years you had dated Aaron. The team had known, of course, which only made now even harder. And here Aaron was, completely unaffected. If you didn’t work here you’d bet the team wouldn’t even know he had just ended a three year relationship.

And God, did that hurt. That he could so easily just turn everything off when you could barely get out of bed every day. You wouldn’t go back to your apartment tonight, you hated being there. You used to spend nearly five days a week at Hotch’s place and now being at your own empty one felt suffocating.

Finally, you stand, and you walk to the one place you know you shouldn’t. Your hand hovers over Aaron’s office doorknob. Swallowing your fear, you walk in. The smell hits you first. It smells like him, it always has, but you haven’t been in here since the breakup so it hits you pretty hard. Your eyes travel over all of his things and land on the couch. He’s left his gray quarter zip fleece draped over the arm. Against your better judgement, you walk over to the couch and pick up the fleece.

***

“I told you to bring a jacket.” Aaron’s smiling at you as you both walk by the water. You had finished eating dinner at an Italian restaurant nearby and you had asked Aaron if you could walk for a bit before going home.

You roll your eyes, “I know, you’re always right.”

He chuckles and then starts pulling his gray fleece over his head, “Here.”

“Honey, no, then you’ll be cold.”

He ignores your protests and puts it over your head himself. It’s big on you, your arms swim in it and it falls to your mid thigh. You smile up at him, feeling much warmer already, “Thank you.”

Aaron smiles down at you, draping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you to him, kissing you softly, “Of course.”

***

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re pulling the fleece over your head and laying down on the couch, silent tears running down your cheeks. You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that it’s the first time you had in nearly five days.

***

“Did you and Y/N have an argument?” Prentiss asks Hotch as they both sip on a beer. The rest of the team is busy immersed in their own conversation.

Hotch looks at Emily and then away, “No. We broke up.”

Emily raises her eyebrows, “What? Why?”

He takes a long swig of his beer, stalling, “You should ask her. I don’t know if she wants people knowing.”

“So she broke up with you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Come on, Hotch, spit it out. I won’t tell anyone.”

He looks at the rest of the team who are obviously not paying attention and then back to Emily, “She wanted to get married.”

Emily waits for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Okay… So?”

“And I wouldn’t propose.”

“Well, why not?”

He looks up at the ceiling and it takes Emily a moment to realize he’s trying not to cry, “How am I supposed to get married again knowing the target it put on Haley? How am I supposed to knowingly subject another person that I love to that?”

“Hotch, by being a member of this team, Y/N already has a target on her back. You know that.”

“Being my wife and being my colleague are very different and if someone like Foyet targets me again, who do you think they’ll go after, Emily? The team or my wife?”

Emily watches him for a moment, “You know, by that logic, you should’ve left Jack in protective custody with another family.” Hotch glares at her, “What? It’s true.”

They’re both quiet for a few moments before Emily speaks again, “You didn’t tell her all of this, did you?”

“She would have just said all the things you did. It was easier to just convince her I didn’t love her enough to marry her.”

Emily forces a laugh, “You played on her insecurities.”

“I’m not proud of it.”

“Well,” She sighs, “I don’t think you need me to tell you I think you’re being stupid. I hope you come to your senses before you lose her for good.”

Hotch knocks back the rest of his beer and orders another.

***

When Aaron walks into his office the next morning to find you sleeping on his couch in his fleece, it’s hard to stifle the tenderness he feels.

He quietly shuts the door and sets down his things before kneeling in front of you. “Hey,” He says softly, hoping not to startle you, “Y/N.” When you don’t stir he hesitantly puts his hand on yours and you groan a little before your eyelids begin to flutter.

When your eyes finally open you stare at him and you smile and he knows what’s happening. Those first few seconds after waking when you don’t remember what’s happened, “Aaron.” You say sweetly and you even reach out to touch his cheek, but then your smile falls and your hand recoils. “Oh my God.” You murmur and sit up, “I’m sorry, I-- I must’ve fallen asleep, I shouldn’t be in here--”

“It’s okay.” Aaron says and watches you struggle out of his fleece. Part of him wishes you would keep it on, “You should go home, get some rest. You’ve been here all night.”

He turns and walks to his desk, thinking you’d leave now, but you still sit on the couch. “When you go home at night… I know you have Jack, but… Does it feel as empty for you as it does for me? Because I can’t… I can’t go home, Aaron. The only reason I could sleep in here last night was because, surrounded by all your things, it felt like you were here.”

He barely looks at you, “Go home, Y/N. I’ll have JJ call you if there’s a case.”

The dismissal feels like a slap in the face. “Yes sir.” You grind out and leave before he can reply.

Everyone watches you storm from the bullpen, but nobody tries to stop you. Hotch has the urge to throw everything off his desk in anger, but there’s a knock at his door, “What?” He snaps in annoyance. It’s Rossi. “I’m sorry, Dave.” 

“Rough morning, huh? I saw Y/N leave, she looked upset.”

“The breakup has been… difficult for her.” He says slowly.

“Just for her?”

“I thought I was doing what was best for both of us.”

“And now?”

He sighs, “Jack asks for her everyday and I miss her even more than he does.”

“Have you told her that?”

“What good would that do either of us?”

“She might not be so angry if she knew you were hurting too.”

“If she knew I was upset then she wouldn’t understand why I broke it off in the first place.”

Rossi’s quiet for a moment, “Emily told me what really happened,” Aaron looks like he’s going to lecture both Rossi and then Prentiss about keeping things private, but Dave holds up a hand, “Aaron, you’ve got to stop punishing yourself for what happened to Haley.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Don’t give me that crap. Do you think Haley would want you and Jack to be alone forever? She’d be so thrilled that Jack has another woman in his life. You would take that away from both of them?”

Aaron’s shaking his head, “You couldn’t possibly know what she would want.”

“I do know that you self destructing this relationship lets Foyet win. You may have killed him, Aaron, but you’re still letting him control you. Just… Don’t let him win.” 

When Dave leaves Aaron paces his office, thinking about Foyet, Haley, Jack, and you. He walks back to his desk, sits down, and unlocks the drawer to his right. There’s a tiny velvet box, sitting there, staring up at him. Mocking him. You see, he had bought you a ring over a year ago and thought about asking you to be his wife every single day since. And every time, he reminded himself what had happened to the last woman he made his wife and he would lock up the ring again.

This time, he pockets the ring and runs out of the office without telling anyone where he’s gone.

***

There’s frantic knocking at your door and for a second you think something’s wrong. You grab your gun and hesitantly approach the door and look through the peephole.

“Jesus, Aaron.” You say as you swing open the door, holstering your gun, “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He says and walks past you.

“By all means, come in.” You murmur sarcastically. “Did something happen?” You say louder.

Aaron’s looking around your apartment which is in a state of disarray. Clothes and dirty dishes everywhere. Your box of things you took from his place still sits at the door. All the framed photos of you and Aaron or you and Jack have either been taken down or placed facedown on their surfaces. 

“I would have cleaned up if I knew you were coming.” You say.

Aaron looks back at you and really looks at you, “Do you remember the first time I told you I loved you?”

You almost laugh, “What the hell is this?”

“Please, just… Humor me.”

You glower at him, “Of course I remember.”

***

The unsub had a child and he was driving like hell to get out of the city before you caught up with him. You and Hotch had ran straight to the car when the team realized the child was missing, peeling away from the curb so aggressively, the rubber burned on the asphalt. 

Hotch is driving the streets like a maniac while you’re on the phone with the rest of the team trying to figure out the way the unsub might be headed. 

“We got a visual he’s heading west on ninth.” 

Hotch made a hurried right hand turn. Derek was still talking and the last thing you heard was his frantic warning that the unsub was running a light through an intersection you and Hotch were coming from. But the warning came too late, the unsub collided with your side of the car so forcefully, the SUV tipped on its side.

You don’t remember much from the accident, but sometimes you were sure you could hear Aaron calling your name. The next time you wake, you’re in a hospital.

“Hey there, babygirl, you gave us quite a scare back there.” Morgan’s squeezing your hand and his face comes into focus.

“Aaron.” You manage quietly.

“He’s fine. Barely even injured, just a concussion. You took the brunt of it. I’m sure he’ll bully his nurses into bringing him in here once he realizes you’re awake.”

You laugh, but it hurts, “Ow.” You murmur, “Did… did you get him? Is the kid okay?”

“Yeah, we got him, he’s back with his parents.”

“Good…” Your vision is going fuzzy, “That’s… good…”

***

The next time you wake up there’s a thumb softly stroking the back of your hand, “Hey.” You know that voice, that sound of relief in his voice. You’re already smiling before you’ve opened your eyes.

“Aaron.” You manage.

You feel his hands on your face and your surroundings start to materialize, “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Are you hurt?” 

He laughs and gently kisses your forehead, leaving his head resting against yours, noses touching, “You almost died and you want to know if I’m hurt?”

You push your head into him even more, wanting to be closer, “I woke up earlier. Morgan said… You had a concussion.”

“Yes. And you have broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a concussion.”

“Hm,” You hum, “Looks like you and Jack are going to have to take care of me for a while.”

“I have something to tell you. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since he hit us.”

You frown, “What is it?”

“When… When the car hit us and you were laying there, I really thought you were going to die and I wasn’t going to get a chance to tell you.”

You frown, “Tell me what, baby?”

“That I love you. I… struggle sometimes to express what I’m feeling, but in our line of work I can’t afford to be. So I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

You smile and your eyes water, “I love you so much.”

***

“Why are you asking about this?” You ask Aaron now, arms crossed across your chest.

“Because, I promised myself then that I would never miss another opportunity to tell you how I’m feeling.”

You make a frustrated noise, “No offense, Aaron, but I’m struggling to deal with my own emotions. I don’t have the bandwidth to carry yours as well.”

He’s shaking his head, “I came here because I needed to tell you that… The things I said to you when we were breaking up, I didn’t mean them.”

“You mean when you told me I wasn’t good enough for you to marry? When you said I wasn’t good enough for you and Jack?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it!” You snap.

“When Haley got killed, I-- I didn’t know how I could, in good conscience, let someone in like that again. And… then… with you, I had let you in without even realizing what I was doing. And then before I knew it, you were asking about marriage and I panicked. I… I couldn’t stand the idea of you having a target on your back because of me--”

“I don’t need you to baby me, I can protect myself.”

“I knew you would say that which is why I convinced you instead that I just didn’t want to marry you.”

Tears ran down your face and Aaron took a step to you, but you move away, “You knew my biggest fear was not living up to Haley, I confided in you about it more than once. And you…”

“I’m sorry. I thought I was protecting you.”

“So, what? Why did you come here?”

He sighs, “Because… I realize I was wrong to push you away. I miss you every second of every day and I don’t want to continue this way.”

“Then what do you want, Aaron?” Slowly, so slowly you think maybe you’re imagining it, Aaron gets down on one knee, “Aaron, no, don’t-- Here? In my disgusting apartment?”

He takes out a velvet box and opens it so you see a ring, “I love you and I don’t care about your messy apartment.” He’s smiling, his eyes watering, “I never thought I’d be truly happy again after Haley, but you changed my life. And you changed Jack’s life, too. I can’t live without you in my life and neither can he. So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

You’re nodding slowly, tears falling down your cheeks. He gets up off his knees and takes your shaking hand and slides the ring on before taking your face in his hands and kissing you tenderly. “I love you so much.” You murmur into his mouth, “Please don’t leave me again.”

“Never,” He pulls away just an inch to kiss your forehead, “Do you want to go tell Jack?”

Your grin widens, “I would love that.”

[yarbz]

cowardly game of rival — n.jaemin ( f )

synopsis!

 ━ as the girl’s football team captain, you were used to the endless derogatory taunts, the wolf-whistling, the attempts at romance being boys telling you what they thought of barcelona’s starting XII. na jaemin fell into all those catergories, a detestable flea in your hair. as sworn enemies, there was not even an inkling of romance, and you were convinced that your attraction to him was ONLY physical. weren’t you?

pairing ━ na jaemin x female!reader

word count ━ 6k

genres ━ fluff, rival!au, football!au, comedy, romance, very little of the football game is described in detail.

warnings ━ profanity, football terms, dirty jokes, y/n and jaemin are literally just cowards

( author's note! )

this one came to mind when i thought of how i love female footballers and decided that jaemin would be the idiot in question to chicken out of confessing to their crush by being an ass instead. i really hope you like it !! other notes are sissoko is the name of like three different players and a cracker is slang for a really good goal.

Football.

A sport of creatively insane wits, fancy footwork and incoherent celebrations. Those were all the things you loved about it, along with the ridiculously cute uniform.

It provided you an escape from the man's world, a chance to carve out your own story, free from the shackles of stereotypes. At least, that's what you'd initially thought.

Unfortunately, the boy's football team made it their sole objective in life to demean you. As captain, you took on the strenuous task of refusing to resort to physical violence when a stupid comment about your short length was made or when boys assumed you couldn't tell your Sissoko's apart (you could, quite well actually).

You had taken it as a sign of war, and refused to comment on their pathetic sneers. You did, however, feel as if Na Jaemin made a blood pact or something to be a parasite towards you.

He stood at the cusp of six foot, towering over you like an evergreen beanstalk, cheshire-cat like smile taunting you. Chocolate colour tresses fell over his eyes in straight lines, shielding his forehead.

It's not like you paid attention to his visage, but even you had to admit in your spite that he was attractive. And horribly so.

Today started like every other, going to your locker before heading to your homeroom. Luckily, you'd managed to get there before the freshmen started to pile in. Being a senior had its positives along with its various faults, one of them being the early access you got to the school.

You jammed your key in the lock, flinging open the locker door, making quick work of exchanging your books. In your fast-paced stupor, you didn't notice the figure leaning behind the door. You slammed the door shut, nail catching an patch of skin, scraping it.

"If you wanted me to leave, you could've been less catty." The voice wheedled, throwing a withering glare in your direction. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, arms crossed across your chest.

"Jaemin." You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Why are you hiding behind my locker? Are you looking for a death wish?"

He sat up slowly, soothing his reddening nose, suddenly regaining his smile as he leaned closer towards your face. "If I was looking for a death wish, I'd eat whatever food you just stuffed in there."

"Fuck off. Don't see you making any gourmet meals."

"I'm the gourmet meal." He slithered, breath fanning your nose. From this distance, you could see the wonder swimming within his eyes, breath caught in your throat.

Damn, he was too fine.

You tore your gaze from his eyes, "And yet, I don't feel inclined to taste it." He jumped back in surprise, eyes widening, giving you an opening to dash. Chuffed that you left him speechless, you walked towards your next class, resisting the urge to turn back to revel in his awe-struck face.

Jaemin's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, crooked smirk hanging from his lips. He watched you stalk away, cursing underneath his breath softly. You carried a fiery aura around you, burning him with every snarky remark — even though it beat him bruised ghastly lavenders, he could bear to play with fire if it meant you would pay him attention.

You see, Jaemin did not hate you as per say. The 'hate' which you believed in was merely his inability to profess his affections towards you. For lack of a better word, he was a coward.

A dashingly handsome one, but a fragile, chicken-legged coward all the same.

You'd made it to class in record time, ego bared boldly on your shoulders, attracting the curious eyes of your best friends Yangyang and Donghyuck. Both were terrorists in their own right, but you couldn't help loving them all the same. Sure, they came as a dreadful pair, but love had decided to shackle your heart to them.

"What's got you so happy? Jaemin finally drop dead?" Yangyang joked, shifting to make space for you. Headband strapped to the pinnacle of his forehead, he grinned at you from beneath the base of stretchy ebony material.

"No..not yet." You hummed, sad lilt to your tone.

"Awh, didn't kill him yet?" Donghyuck teased, nudging Yangyang in their laughter. "I think it must be love stopping you from committing the crime yourself." You shoved both, peals of laughter tickling your throat at their whines of pain.

"If you don't shut up, I'll be killing you two instead, never mind Jaemin." You snapped. "Love is what I feel when I score a cracker from the halfway line. Seeing Jaemin makes me want to jump out of the nearest window."

"Are you sure it's not just unresolved sexual tension? I, too get antsy when I haven't jacked off—"

"Finish that sentence and you'll have no arms."

"I'm flexible enough to suck myself off." Yangyang mused, "You'll never stop my libido."

"You're disgusting." You and Donghyuck said in sync, swatting his grabby hands from flying at your shoulders. Quite frankly, you didn't want to hear about his freakishly boneless limbs, or his untameable sex drive, nor hear anything about his genitals at all.

"Does that count as self—"

"Yes, it does. Please don't be telling people that I'm your friend, or that you can do that. It's not a little icebreaker."

Friendship with these two had crossed all sorts of personal boundaries you didn't know existed, and it was starting to decompose you, like a rotting piece of cabbage infested by slugs, yet still hanging on for the glimpse of sunlight to regenerate.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. But, that didn't explain their dire need to over share certain aspects of their lives with you.

"Doesn't change the topic at hand —Did you get my pun?" He asked, looking for Donghyuck's reaction.

"I did. Not going to comment on it before she breaks my arms. Just know I enjoyed it very much."

"If I wanted to mess around with Jaemin, I'd put my hand in a beehive. It'd sting less." You snarled, slamming down your books. They winced comically, faces alert as the teacher walked into the class.

Apart from football, you enjoyed learning — how to make things, break things, self defense, people skills, and education fell not too far from that. Classes like biology interested you greatly, which is why you found yourself fully immersed in the process of respiration.

Your mind drifted for a second, thinking back to what he'd said. Was it actually sexual tension? Did you actually bare an emotion other than loathing towards him? Then, you thought of that face and how you'd want to do nothing more than break his pretty little nose—

Yeah. There it was. You were normal after all.

School had come to her daily dreadful end, and you were happily striding into the ladies' changing rooms for football training. Nobody had gotten here yet, luckily.

You glanced over into the full body mirror, tugging at your shorts until they fell just above the bump of your knee, pulling your sock midway at your calf. Lean abs shone underneath the dim light, and you proudly paraded around the room, happy to be alone.

A knock on the door came, and you swung the door open with a feverish excitement. "Who is it?"

"Didn't take me as a bra kinda girl. Was thinking more spandex or a binder." Jaemin seethed, hands on hips, azure jersey hanging off his lithe frame.

"You're insufferable. Why are you here?" You groaned, choosing to ignore his taunt at your breast size. His eyes crinkled into upside down crescents, wandering lower to the dip of your frilly black bra.

"To see my favourite girl, of course." He whistled, eyes still glued to your unmarked expanse of skin. "I think those need a new owner." He pointed towards your chest.

"Preferably one whose face I can stand to look at."

"I'm roaring with laughter." You snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm, making no attempt to cover yourself up. Jaemin was still staring, face flushed a flaming cerise. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna leave me alone?"

"I'm not staring. Why are you staring at me?" He shot defensively. Your eyes narrowed at him, watching his cheeks darken with every lingering stare.

"You're in the girl's changing room, drooling over two lumps of fat on the body of a girl that you hate. The real inquisition here is your lack of sensibility to stop thirsting after anything with a vagina."

Jaemin stayed silent, eyes boring holes into your full lips, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his own nimble, chapped ones. Rolling your eyes, you lead him to the door, hand clasped against the door handle.

Then, you heard loud footsteps approaching the room, incoherent rambling increasing in clarity. You began to conjure up a plan, wondering how on Earth you'd be able to kick Jaemin out without the girls knowing.

With the shouts of the team gradually getting closer, you panicked, chucking Jaemin into a locker.

"Fine, I'll leave! Lemme out!" He squirmed, trying to come out of the metal confines.

"You can't leave now, they're literally outside. Do you want to be stomped to death by Nike Mercurials?" You hissed, closing the door over, much to his protests.

"Don't wanna die with the last image being your breasts."

"If you survive this, I'll gladly provide you a new image."

He shut up at that, and you straightened, reaching for your jersey in a false calmness. The girls burst in, squeals of various greetings being thrown across the room.

You smiled gently at them, encouraging them to get changed, joining in to laugh at their jokes. The topic kept shifting from manicures to new boots before finally settling on Na Jaemin.

"Cap'n, what's going on with you and Jaemin?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes softly. "A boy on the football team told me that you guys are dating."

Dating..that devil? A sin punishable by death! You repelled all instinct to shudder in disgust, instead choosing to maintain a neutral expression.

"I am absolutely not dating Na Jaemin. He's a despicable little mongrel and I'd rather eat my shoe—"

"Mon bébé chérie, why do you curse me like this?" Jaemin squeezed from the locker, voice like a wounded puppy.

"Did you hear that? I think it was—"

"No! It's my Jaemin impression. Isn't it so good?" You spluttered, voice rising in volume. You were sure that your face was a painful beetroot, breathing crazily as you over-exerted yourself.

"Cap'n, it was so good I almost thought Jaemin was in here with us!" She gushed, hands clasped. "You guys would be so cute together. Even if you don't like him, I think he most definitely has feelings for you."

The rest of the girls joined in at this, shouts of 'you should take a chance!' resounding in the hollow room. You'd already ruled out that as a possibility, chalking it down to his uncontrollable thirst for being a pest. Na Jaemin was your rival, the utter bane of your existence, a rodent that fed on robbing your spirits dry of any positivity.

"He'll get a chance when pigs fly." You muttered, noticing their eyes staring at you inquisitively, as if they knew something you didn't. Awkwardly, you smiled at the girls, ushering them towards the door, scanning the hallway after the last one had skipped out.

Jaemin untangled himself from the locker, straightening his limbs, pulling at his calves in a stretch. You peered over your shoulder, frown deepening at him.

"Did you mean what you said?" Jaemin breathed, walking into your personal bubble. He was way too close. His breath tickled your forehead, eyes dark with something you couldn't decipher.

He felt his heart pound against his chest, resisting the urge to pick the stray hair in your eye to the side. You were looking at him with a confused expression, nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to be the death of him. Devastated, he broke eye contact, feeling all forms of fight seep from his bones.

"You don't like me." You whispered, wincing at the wobble in your voice. "Everyone's just saying that....right?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"No. I want you to say no."

"I can't do that."

"Well, you have to say no. I don't want to hear the rest of your sentence — keep us as just this." You softly yelled, pointing between the pair of you. "Don't change anything."

"Okay. I'll leave, but only because you want me to. But, before I go..you've gotta start being more observant." He sighed, ruffling your hair before making his way out.

"I’m plenty observant. Wouldn’t be a good player if I wasn’t.”

"I’ll see it when I believe it. Oh, and the thing you said about pigs flying..”

“What about it?”

“Renjun’s working on it.”

You laughed heartily, locking the door behind you. So, Jaemin did in fact think of you as his Aphrodite — all those nicknames were genuinely created out of affections. 'Mon bébé chérie' held a lot more emotional weight than it did twenty minutes ago, and you had to breathe before your eyes prickled with saltine tears.

Fresh air hit you like a loaded delivery truck, Mother Nature delicately wiping the tears from your eyes, shaking you with a cold flourish, roaring your cheeks to life. The team had already started their warm-up drills, as opposed to the boys' football team who were cooling down from their jog.

You ran over, tightening your ponytail, shifting into 'Captain' mode. The coach pushed you into the circle, encouraging you to take the reins. "Team, we've been doing nothing but straight work. Let's make this session count before the match tomorrow." You shouted, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline.

The team chanted back, settling into their positions for the first drill — a penalty shoot out. You stepped to the ball, striding back to gain a better angle, socks hugging your knees.

Giving yourself a five second countdown, you charged at the ball, foot pointed, kicking it with a passion that rivalled Lionel Messi. It rolled in the back of the net, flying past Hyejoo, who could barely even process it.

"Still got those fire feet, I see, Cap'n!"

"Lady Luck gave them to me for a reason." You boasted, smugness slapped all over your face.

From the corner of your eye, Jaemin snickered, winking at you when you turned to make eye contact. At least he had the audacity to keep up appearances in front of everyone, even if you had probably made everything awkward.

"My granny could kick better than that, babes!" He boomed from across the pitch, teasing smirk on his lips.

"Your granny lives in a retirement home and still calls on you 'Nana Banana'..it's not very nice to lie." You retorted, eyes narrowed, nearing his hunched form.

"Doesn't mean she can't kick your ass. Granny was a little Aguero back in the day."

"She can't if I'm the Manè, can she?"

"But I'm a Modric. I'll beat your ass, any day, any time." He grinned, leaning in to you. "In any way you want."

You heard blood pumping in your ears, your cheeks filling with immense heat. He grabbed your cheeks softly, grinning even wider when you flushed even warmer, a human sauna. Pushing a lock out of your eyes, he searched your eyes for any sense of rage, face softening at your lack of that emotion.

"Any..way..I want?" You mouthed silently, innuendo catching your attention again as you mulled over the words. "Na Jaemin, you're a dirty boy."

"I think you're the dirty girl." He hummed, saying the next sentence in an octave that made your head spin, quietly enough that only the two of you could hear. "Sauntering around in your little Victoria's Secret bra, cozying up to me without even batting an eyelash or covering up."

"These boobs are mine. I'm allowed to show them to anyone I want."

"So you admit to showing them to me? You admit that you were trying to put on a show for me?" He pressed, purposely craning his neck over you.

"I was trying to change. If you didn't come into the room like a little pervert, you'd never have gotten a visual of these."

"And yet I know how they look now. There's nothing that can erase that image."

"Fuck you, Na Jaemin."

"I think you meant to say fuck me, but I'll allow the slip-up just because I'm so nice." You squirmed under his predatory gaze, heat in your cheeks akin to a fever. "Better get back to training, Cap. Your team's got a match tomorrow."

You hissed at him weakly, choosing to walk away from his provocation, going back to the team, who were all smiling at you with a glint in their eye. By the looks on their faces, they'd definitely taken that exchange as a form of flirting.

Not that you were disputing it, of course.

The coach rounded the girls up, calling them to grab bibs. You relaxed, running over to take the last bib once you'd calmed down. Na Jaemin was a little toe-sucking, filthy mongrel who only knew how to charm his way out of everything — totally not your ideal type or anything.

His penance for being blunt coupled with that honeyed voice was what was throwing you off. Not your physical attraction to him. At least, you hoped so.

The shrill shriek of the whistle behind you shook you out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the practice game. With every shot at the goal, you could see Jaemin taunting you, making kissy faces.

After the first half, you weren't sure if it was real or if you were hallucinating — almost like a mirage, he was wearing that stupid little smirk and there was nothing more you wanted than to slap those lips clean off his face.

Soon enough, you clocked that it wasn't just an illusion, as he'd shifted to the opposite end of the pitch, the other boys from the football team watching from the stands.

They'd started jeering at every pass, exaggerating their reactions, commentary toeing the border of sexual harassment. You volleyed the ball on your foot, battering it into the stands, grinning widely as it hit one of the boys in the face, leaving his nose lopsided.

"If you're gonna be a sexist piece of shit, just fuck off. My team doesn't deserve to hear your brain-dead commentary, nor see your fuck face." You smiled, bite in your voice. "Kindly take the opinion that nobody asked for and shove it up your ass."

Jaemin's eyes twinkled with respect, breath caught in his throat at the dark look in your eyes. He felt his chest warm in adoration, heart doubling in size. "You heard the lady."

"Includes you too, Jaemin. Better get home before Granny Na starts missing her little boy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fuck off." You said playfully, recovering the ball. He waved you bye, lugging his bag over his shoulder, fixing the collar of his jersey. A beam touched your lips, face lighting up.

Jaemin smirked back at you, taking his leave. He dragged the remnants away with him, leaving the girl's football team alone in the cooling dwindle of Autumn light.

"Nice shorts." A tug.

"Oh? Na Jaemin complimenting me?" You mused in surprise, arms folded across your chest.

"You didn't let me finish." Jaemin whispered, standing on the sidelines of the pitch, pulling at the hem of your shorts. "Ooh, I can see your stubble. Better bring out the razor."

Your jaw tightened, feeling that rush of annoyance fill your veins again. The nerve.

"More stubble than you'll ever grow on that chin."

"At least I'm not a human Sasquatch."

"I've got hair in the right places—" You started, catching the innuendo, glaring at Jaemin's raised eyebrows. "—I know what I meant. Don't be such a dirty boy."

"Say it again. Love the way it rolls off your tongue."

You gaped at him, whole body blowing a fuse, skin reddening at his tone. Sweltering heat danced atop each fingertip, each muscle, making you jolt. His gaze was still glued to your face, relishing the quickly dilating pupils in your eyes.

"I—"

"—Would rather have you speechless after our first time, not for your championship final. When you win, I'll buy you fucking adorable ice cream with the little star sprinkles that you like."

"Going to ignore you on that first statement, but the second one sounds like a motive."

"Win the match, and I'll ask you out. Properly."

You saw his eyes flash with something passionate, flakes of gooey molasses swirling behind the irises. Before you opened your mouth to reply to him, he pleaded silently for you to just take it as it was. "Gimme a chance. Who knows you better than your enemy? Nobody."

"I mean..."

"Only you know that my grandma calls me those corny names or that I see her all the time."

"Or that you lose every game that's not football because you're too lazy to pay attention." You added.

"And I know that you broke a guy's jaw because he was bothering Yangyang." He continued. "And I also know that you know one thing I've never told anyone."

"Ooh, what's that?"

"That I like you."

You looked away from him sheepishly, goosebumps popping up on your skin, and whether it was from the cold or from his words, you didn't know. He was looking down at you tenderly, ruffling your bed of hair, pressing a small, wet kiss to your forehead as the whistle blew.

"Don't play with fire, Na."

"You're more like a carpet burn."

You sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll give you an answer when we win. If you're playing me, I'll break your arms."

"Okay. Go get 'em, Lady Luck." He smiled, waving you off as you scurried onto the pitch, face glowing under the fluorescent lights. Jaemin felt his chest tighten with pride, jaw aching from all the strenuous smiling.

With that absurdly contented face, you reminded him of a cross between a kid at a carnival and a man about to kill another. Your hair gathered wildly atop your head, a wicked glare painting your face.

This was you at peace, he deduced. Even with the gruesome of expressions, you looked calm. The pitch was truly your home away from home.

Two minutes into the second half saw you being carried off on a stretcher with a torn hamstring. You'd fallen to the grass, no sounds coming from your limp body. Jaemin swore he felt his heart plunge into his ass, and with a frantic flourish, he was coddling your head into his chest.

"Luck, don't die on me. I'm supposed to take you out for ice cream after this, and I stole Renjun's Baskin Robbins loyalty card to cut costs so if we don't go, I'll be getting beat up without having kissed your stupid face." He babbled, slapping your cheeks, scared that you'd genuinely lost your life.

You groaned, rolling slowly in the elastic. "Stop touching my face, I'll get acne." Mildly concussed, you soothed your throbbing headache, registering Jaemin's face looming over you. "Jaemin?"

"Oh, thank God. Thought I'd never see that unruly sparkle in your eyes again."

"Fuck off. My hamstring feels like a fried chicken mukbang and you're talking about my eyes."

"I can't cry before our first date. You'll think I'm a wimp."

"Already think that."

He hit your arm lightly, beaming at your focus on his face, meeting your eyes. You were glaring at him with a kissable pout on your lips, eyebrows furrowed — he wanted to pepper your face in balmy kisses.

The paramedic pushed him away, leading you to the ambulance. You flipped him off, yelling loudly as they wheeled you in, "Make sure you win! Won't forgive you if you don't."

The girl's football team had gathered around the door, all tight-lipped smiles and crumpled faces. They visibly brightened at your declaration, huddling together to recalibrate — the ref blew her whistle to call them back, summoning them back into position.

Yangyang and Donghyuck left the stands, rushing into the ambulance alongside you, closing the door behind them. Jaemin could faintly hear your loud curses, and sighed in relief, knowing that you'd be fine.

With two goals up, the team were at optimum working speed, playing loyally for your honour. Jaemin stood at the sidelines, holding your jacket in his hands as he recorded the match on his phone, wanting to send it to you later.

At 90 minutes, the girl's team had become the winner of the Division One Seoul Inter-district championship, and Jaemin was content. Not because it meant you'd go on that date with him, but because he could feel how much it meant to them.

Everyone around him was cheering madly, chanting and spraying assorted drinks in each other's faces, an infectious joy lingering in his veins. Amongst all the commotion, he'd somehow been pushed into the middle of the team, feeling their gazes boring into his frame.

"You like Cap'n, right?" The brunette said, eyes bright.

"No. I don't like her. She's my rival." Jaemin lied pathetically, trying to escape their judgement.

"Why were you in the locker room then?"

"Damn. How do you know that?"

"Cap'n is horrible at lying, so she's always upfront. She also cannot do an impression so she never attempts it."

"Wow, you guys sure know your stuff. Bet she's glad to have a team like you. I know I'm feeling a little jealous."

"Cut the smooth talk. If you like Cap'n, just be straightforward. She's more innocent than she seems, and can get her heart broken easily."

"Got it." He nodded, "Well...ladies, I have to thank you for the advice."

"No problem, but if you break her heart.." They chorused, "We'll break that pretty little nose." Fifteen studded feet swung at his face, narrowly skimming the bridge of his nose.

He flinched, caught off guard, grin bared. "Now, I definitely got that message. I'll be going to check up on her, what do you want me to say?"

"We've already called her and shown her the trophy, so we have nothing left to say, you, however...take all the time you need."

"Since I have your blessing, am I allowed to—"

"Don't finish that sentence. Keep in your lane."

Jaemin promptly closed his mouth, and bid them a goodbye, dashing into his car towards the hospital, stopping at Baskin Robbins to buy the ice cream he promised. He hoped you’d at least be able to eat the sprinkles (the ones you liked were expensive, and if you didn’t eat them, he’d just wasted an extra 2,500 won.)

In the hospital, you were now dressed in a medical gown, surrounded by the two idiots. It smelt like an experiment lab, and the spotless shades of ivory splashed on the walls made you feel a tad bit overwhelmed.

Your leg had already undergone the MRSI scan, and the nurses had told you that you’d definitely tore your hamstring, but surgery would fix it right up along with natural healing.

Of course, all those details lacked in comparison to your team finally winning the trophy you’d worked so hard towards — that excitement numbed the pain considerably.

“We thought you’d somehow died.” Yangyang confessed, grasping your hands in his clammy ones.

“You did.” Donghyuck sneered, pointing at him, continuing when he saw your face change in confusion. “Yang was convinced that you were invincible like Superman or something. He started blubbering about how you could definitely defeat the grim reaper in close contact and that should be enough to steal back your soul or whatever—”

“I’m just never going to ask questions again.”

“Jaemin was on the verge of a breakdown when he saw you fall. Never have I ever seen him run so fast towards a girl.” Donghyuck said, hand on chin in mock thought.

You blushed, remembering your promise about the ice cream and falling back into the bed in distress.

“What’s going on with you? I saw you two all friendly at the sidelines.” Yangyang murmured, eyes squinting in judgement. “Don’t tell me...you guys fucked before the game?”

Suddenly it was too hot in the room. You fanned yourself to cool down, slapping your own cheeks before pulling Yangyang’s ears. “Yeah, because I have the guts to just have my first time in a school setting.” You deadpanned.

“Naughty girl.” Both boys swooned, unable to note your sarcasm.

“Just because my leg is gone doesn’t mean I can’t harm you anymore. I’ll break your kneecaps.”

In the midst of your fight with your best friends, you spotted Jaemin opening the door, wearing that greasy smirk that made butterflies tickle your throat.

“I see a broken leg isn’t enough to stop you, is it?” Jaemin drawled from the door, hands behind his back. “Still threatening people?”

“It’s not threatening if they deserve it.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. Jaemin maintained his distance from you, arm outstretched, ice cream tub in hand. He was looking away from you, faint blush tinting his cheeks, lips squeezed in a puffy ‘o’.

“Not that I remembered or anything, but you did say something about liking these sprinkles.” He said, eyes darting around to focus on anything but you.

“I do...like these sprinkles..how did you know?”

“Everyone calls you star, and you’re cute. It’s your personality in an edible sugar shape.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, forgetting both Donghyuck and Yangyang were seated in the room. It felt like the two of you were just stuck in your own world, glaring at each other like a pair of lovers.

Unfortunately, that moment was cut short by your ungracious best friends, cooing annoyingly. They were squealing like little girls, incomprehensible screams of ‘our girl’s grown up!’ scraping your eardrums.

“Leave me alone!” You whined, face scrunched in discomfort, making futile attempts to push them away. “Jaemin...please get these two off me.”

“Asking your boyfriend to get rid of us? Already?” Yangyang hollered, one of Jaemin’s arms stopping him from jumping on you again.

“He’s not my boyfriend. As of now, he’s the only sensible one who isn’t mauling the girl with a broken leg, and that’s why I’m asking him for help.”

“Should I throw them out?”

“Yes —actually, do whatever. Let them go terrorise someone that isn’t me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

On that, Jaemin escorted both boys outside, shutting the door on them, cutting off the beginning to their long-winded rant with a smile. That left the two of you alone.

Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t stifling but rather a conversation of the mind — you were able to see what he wanted to say by looking into those mocha coloured eyes. You threw the ice cream tub in the bin, reaching for Jaemin’s hands shyly.

He’d sat down beside you on the bed, just staring at you like you were an abstract painting, a mosaic of a splendid array, unable to take his eyes off you. He took your hand warmly, running his fingers over your calloused knuckles, sharing his heat with you.

“Jaemin.” You yawned, head falling onto his shoulder. “I’m saying yes to your date. If I didn’t get injured, you could’ve taken me out today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Being with you is enough for me, even if I do want to comment on your horrible tackles during the match.” Jaemin teased, grabbing your hand a little tighter.

“Haha...I’m dying of laughter.”

“Hey! None of that here.”

“Sorry. I’m just happy. My team won our first championship, which we’ve been trying to do for three years, and I feel on top of the world. All those years of boys being absolute dickheads to us about our abilities, trying to put us down have amounted to this moment. I’m at peace right now.”

“Don’t apologise. I should be sorry instead. It was easier to talk to you if I pretended I hated you. I shouldn’t have been like that.”

“I accept your apology. But..I think it was cute you couldn’t tell me you liked me! That’s so endearing.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s my line! Well, you were always attractive to me, even when you were being a dickhead. Now that I think about it, you’re at your hottest when you’re being mean.”

“Is that so?” Jaemin mused, rolling onto his hands, dangling over you, lips eerily close to your own. “Do you want me to treat you mean, keep you keen?”

“Firstly, don’t ever say that again.” You stopped him, hand placed on his chest to push him away lightly. “Secondly, I’ve never had a boyfriend or my first kiss. That means no experience.” You slurred that last part, rushing the words so he wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Cap’n, you’re telling me that I’ll be your first?”

“Not if you don’t ask me out.”

Jaemin sat back beside you, looking up to the ceiling. This was the moment. He took a deep breath, standing up before you, hands rubbing his stomach softly to calm down.

“I wanted to do a real dramatic confession, but I rushed over here in fear that you wouldn’t be able to hit me again, so I’ll have to stick with my speech.” He cheesed, trying to ease himself of his nerves. You laughed, hissing in mock anger when he wore that stupid grin. “I like you. Like a lot. Sometimes, I come to school with a dirty scowl on my face, but then I see your face and start smiling like a love struck fool. You’re someone that I wouldn’t want to lose.”

“Jaemin, you little mongrel. Come here.” You waved him over, arms outstretched in a hug. “Even though I know your ego won’t let you ask me out properly, I would love to be your girlfriend. However, if my heart is broken..I’ll be stoning your car.”

“Thought you were gonna say that you’d break my face.”

“That too.”

He snuggled closer into you, peering up at you with shining eyes, not wanting to move too much to keep you comfortable. You grinned back at him, placing a soft kiss on his head, running a hand through his hair.

That familiar silence returned, and that’s how you fell asleep with Na Jaemin enveloped in your chest. Although you’d broken a leg, Lady Luck seemed to have twiddled her fingers to send you a ‘get well soon’ present, the ever cunning Na Jaemin.

Five months later had you no longer hobbling around on crutches like a hobbit, but walking proud and tall. Jaemin drove you to school (using the excuse of carpooling) and helped you take your books to first period everyday — the alpha male in him winced seeing you attempt any ‘heavy lifting’, and he’d made it a routine.

“Can you fuck off? I can carry this.” You complained, pinching his side. “Just because I see a physio biweekly doesn’t mean I’m about as able-bodied as a monkey.”

“Got the hair to be a monkey.” He snorted.

“Look who’s talking, Mr.Sasquatch. Bigger feet than his prints, you little scoundrel.”

“Big feet means big—”

“Don’t finish that if you wanna keep the body part in question.”

“—heart. Dirty girl.”

You felt the honey pooling in your stomach, kissing his cheek in haste to escape his relentless teasing. He shut up at that, pulling you back to kiss you properly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hallway.

“Get to class.” He announced as he parted from you, enjoying your petulant face. You hit him softly, flipping him off from behind you, blowing him a kiss.

Ah, Na Jaemin. You still hated him. Just a little less this time.

[cxsmicmyeon]

SURPRISE! , kms

kim minseok x fem! reader

IN WHICH minseok wants to spend his 31st birthday at home with his wife and cat but you have other plans that may or may not involve a surprise birthday party. (based on the second prompt from this post by @creativepromptsforwriting​)

genre: married/domestic & non-idol au! fluff, humor word count: 3.0k warnings: swearing, light sexual references/jokes, implied sexual content (it gets a tad spicy at times but nothing explicit), chaos, minseok’s butt being The Bomb Dot Com™ (sorry not sorry)

author’s note: happy birthday to my ray of sunshine, kim minseok! i love you so so much darling, i hope your day is filled with so much happiness and celebration. hope this lil piece can help y’all celebrate min’s 31st with me <3 it’s not the 26th yet where i live lmao but it is in korea so yeah! once again have a happy happy birthday minseok, i love you endlessly and forever. <33 MOODBOARD MADE BY ME. I DON’T OWN THE IMAGES, I ONLY OWN MY EDITING. feedback and notes are greatly appreciated <3

One day.

One day until Minseok’s birthday, and you were scrambling from bakery to bakery to try and get the perfect cake for him. There were flaws in every place you’ve been: too expensive, the designs were not creative enough, blah blah blah. You wanted his day to be as perfect as possible, and what would be the point of that if the cake was nothing but?

Everything else was all ready. You invited all of yours and his closest friends to your house the night of Minseok’s birthday for a surprise party. You planned on keeping Minseok out of the house for the entire day as your friends decorated the house. 

He didn’t want a party. He made that abundantly clear to you as soon as March began. He incessantly told you that all he wanted was a day off from teaching so he could spend the whole day with you and your cat. All he wanted was a nice and relaxing day with his wife. You understood, obviously. But you also wanted to go all out and throw a surprise birthday bash for your husband celebrating his thirty-first year on Earth. Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Jongdae’s incessant whining and begging for an excuse to have a party only aided in your need to have a party.

You ended up settling with a simple Carvel ice cream cake from the frozen section of the grocery store. You made a mental note to ask Yixing to write out “Happy Birthday Minseok” the next day as you left the store.

You came home to your husband holding a feather toy over your cat, Tan’s head. She pawed at the red feather, always at the cusp of grabbing it before Minseok moved the line away from her. He cooed at the animal, making soft kissing sounds as he continued to play with her.

Realizing that he may see the cake, you tucked the grocery bag under your shirt in an attempt to hide it from him, shivering at the cold contact the frozen treat made with your skin. The rustling of the plastic bag caused Minseok to look up at you. He gave you a gummy smile as you walked past him and Tan.

“Well hello to you too, honey. What’s under your shirt?” Minseok asked playfully, wiggling his eyebrows as he made eye contact with your chest. You realized that hiding the bag did not do much to hide the cake, as the shape of the large box combined with the plastic grocery bag greatly protruded from the fabric of your shirt. 

“Nothing, it’s for tomorrow. Don’t wanna ruin the surprise, hm?” you mused, blowing him an air kiss before retreating to your office. He "caught” your kiss with a smile before going back to playing with Tan.

You entered your office and placed the plastic bag onto your desk. You ran to lock the door before opening the bag and taking the cake out, sighing in relief that the cake did not get ruined. You bent down to your mini-fridge and opened the small door of the freezer compartment and placed the cake inside, glad that it could fit inside. After locking the fridge, you exited your office and made your way downstairs to spend time with your loving husband.

You awoke the next day curled up in Minseok’s arms. You cuddled closer to him before jolting upwards in realization. Today was finally the day! You bent down and began showering your sleeping husband with excited kisses, trailing a hand down his bicep. He let out a sleepy groan as he stirred, wrapping his strong arms around your figure.

“Aah, what’s gotten into you baby?” he asked, his voice hoarse from just waking up. 

“Happy birthday, Min!” you beamed, pecking him on the lips. He grinned tiredly as he kissed you on the lips.

“Mmmh, thank you honey.” You grinned as you kissed him again. This kiss lasted longer than the previous ones and slowly yet surely grew more heated. You moved yourself so you were straddling him, not breaking the kiss. He hummed against your lips as you slid your hand underneath his shirt, fingertips grazing his toned stomach. He groaned as his hands made their way down to your ass, squeezing harshly. You bit back a moan as you slowly slid his shirt up his chest, breaking the kiss to ogle at his abs.

“Babe... don’t we need to get ready?” Minseok groaned as you pulled the shirt over his head. You latched your lips onto his neck and softly bit down, eliciting a raspy moan from your husband.

“Shh, let me give you your first gift.” you purred, moving your hands toward the waistband of his boxers.

The mall was packed to the brim with people from all different walks of life. Gossiping teenagers, sleep-deprived parents following their energetic kids around, old couples window shopping, you name it. You walked through the giant Macy’s and into the main hub of the mall hand in hand with Minseok. 

Since you started dating, it has been a tradition for you to buy each other’s gifts the day of your respected birthdays. You’d usually scour Amazon or websites of your favorite brands all day and end up splurging half your monthly paychecks on each other. But on occasion, today included, you’d take your shopping day to the local mall as a means to get out of your apartment and actually go out for once. 

After an... eventful... morning, you rushed to get dressed and usher your husband out of the house, since the boys were coming over at 11, and it was 10:55 by the time you got into the car and sped away toward the mall.

You pointed out a newly opened jewelry store and pulled Minseok inside with you. You looked at him lovingly as he browsed the display of a multitude of different rings. He’d softly mutter to himself as he picked up ring after ring: trying to see what would look best next to his wedding band, what the right price was, if the store even provided the correct size. You loved how organized he was.

Your silent admiring was interrupted by the familiar chime of your phone, indicating you got a text message. You let out a sigh as soon as you saw who the message was from.

operation minseok’s 31st🥳

jun-bug: (y/n) we have a problem (y/n): oh god what happened yee-xing: baekhyun dropped the cake (y/n): he did what bacon: cant u read (y/n) i dropped the fucking cake 11 minutes late: no need to be rude xoxo (y/n): yeah baek u don’t want me to leave my stunning husband inside the jewelry store, come home and mutilate you for dropping his cake and get arrested on his special day (: kyung-soup: oddly specific but i’m here for it jong-waeeee: off topic but the sign says “minseop” instead of “minseok” (y/n): jun, yixing and kyungsoo you better get this settled or else i’m gonna kill all of you nini bear: yes ma’am ofc ma’am we will do this correct chain-yeol: yeah i don’t wanna die today

“Everything okay?”

You quickly locked your phone and threw it inside your purse before making eye contact with Minseok. You nodded a bit too quickly, panic washing over you like a giant wave from the ocean.

“Yeah, everything’s dandy.” you sputtered. Oh, why did this have to happen right now? You silently prayed that everything was going to go well. It had to.

“You sure?”

“Positive. Did you choose something?” Minseok nodded as he handed you a box with a simple black titanium ring. You nodded in approval as he led you to the register.

Your next stop was at Express. You were dying to pick out some new work clothes for him to try on. You assured him (and yourself) that he needed these new pants and this was totally not an excuse for you to check him out.

“Okay, I’ve got three pairs of pants that I think would look absolutely amazing on you and I want you to go try ‘em on.” you said, handing Minseok three hangers. Each hanger had a pair of slacks in different colors hanging from them. He took them from you, shooting you a smirk before walking inside the fitting room stall.

Your eyes widened as Minseok opened the door of the stall. The pants fit absolutely perfectly. The way the fabric hugged his perfect thighs, the color complimenting his white undershirt (which you imagined to be one of his famous white button-downs), it left you practically swooning.

“What do you think?” 

You let out a hum in approval before motioning for him to turn around. “Lemme see the goods, hun.” He rolled his eyes before turning around. Your eyes landed on his butt, making you swoon for real. You covered your mouth to hide your obvious enjoyment of the sight before you. And it didn’t help when he gave his butt a mini shake. Still, you couldn’t help but squeal softly.

“You sure today’s not your birthday?” Minseok teased. You tutted as you stood from your spot and walked up to him, giving his butt a light pinch before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“With you, every day’s my birthday.” you answered, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Ugh, I think you ate too much of that egg and cheese for breakfast today.”

“You know you love me.”

“That I do, darling.” Minseok mused before closing the distance between you two. You tangled your hands in his silky black hair as you savored the heavenly taste of his lips. You felt his hands grab your ass as you deepened the kiss, tugging at his hair in response.

As you kissed, you heard your phone chime the same chime that indicated a text from the boys. You decided to ignore it and continue making out with your husband until the phone went off four more times. You scoffed as you broke the kiss, fishing inside of your purse to grab it.

“Is everything okay, hun?” Minseok asked.

“Yeah, fine. Just crap from, uh, ‘work,’” you lied, unlocking the phone. “Go try on the other pants.” Minseok nodded before walking back to the stall. Once the door was closed and locked, you looked down at your messages, worry washing over you once again. What the hell happened now?

operation minseok’s 31st🥳

yee-xing: oh christ yee-xing: (y/n) (y/n) (y/n) jun-bug: you gotta help us yee-xing: please kyung-soup: i am going to kill park chanyeol like my life depends on it (y/n): what the everloving shit happened this time chain-yeol: um i sneezed all over the cake kyung-soup: the custom one u got on wednesday btw (y/n): you. sneezed. on. the. CAKE????? chain-yeol: IM SORRY chain-yeol: I WAS TRYING TO STOP BAEKHYUN FROM KNOCKING IT OVER AND I SAVED IT BUT THEN I SNEEZED nini bear: ur so gross chain-yeol: you too (y/n): i spent 100 dollars on that cake and you fucking sneeze on it?? (y/n): jfc i’m here busy admiring my husband’s sweet sweet ass and u guys are telling me the cake’s ruined? i will murder u all i swear jong-waeeee: ew i don’t wanna hear about minseok’s ass (y/n): shut the fuck up sign ruiner jong-waeeee: I GOT A NEW ONE THOUGH jong-waeeee: YOU’RE SO MEAN bacon: WAIT bacon: (Y/N) WE’LL PAY FOR ANOTHER ONE  (y/n): baekhyun you sweet summer child (y/n): I HAD TO PRE-ORDER THAT CAKE 2 WEEKS IN ADVANCE YOU WALNUT bacon: oh bacon: my bad 11 minutes late: W8 W8 I GOT U 11 minutes late: WE CAN STILL EAT IT 11 minutes late: I’LL SPRAY SOME LYSOL ON IT jun-bug: SEHUN DON’T YOU DARE (y/n): sehun honey that just contaminates it even more (y/n): but thank you for trying 11 minutes late: xoxo i try my best yee-xing: how ‘bout we just buy more carvel cakes to match the one you got yesterday up to 100 dollars so it maxes out (y/n): yeah alright fine (y/n): thanks xing ur a life saver (y/n): but don’t throw away the ruined cake i wanna show min what he could have missed out on if CHANYEOL DIDN’T FUCKING SNEEZE ON IT (y/n): WHO SNEEZES ON A CAKE nini bear: only chanyeol (y/n): yep, only chanyeol chain-yeol: y’all are mean. kyung-soup: what u get for sneezing on the cake

You locked your phone, letting out an exasperated sigh. You swore if anything else happened today, you were going to march all the way back home and kill those men. You massaged your temples with your fingers as a means to alleviate your stress. All you wanted was for everything to be perfect for the party; Minseok deserved nothing less than that. 

The door of the stall opened, revealing Minseok wearing nothing but the new pair of navy slacks and a devilishly handsome smirk. His smile faded when he saw you with your hands over your face, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down from your stress. He quickly pulled his undershirt on and rushed over to you, wrapping his arms around you comfortingly. With a sigh, you buried your face in his chest, your stress starting to wash away as he began stroking your hair.

You stayed like that for about ten minutes. You eventually calmed down, silently reassuring yourself that everything was going to be fine. You were glad that Minseok did not try to ask you anything since you were afraid you were going to let slip what was waiting for him when you arrive home later in the day. 

You let out a small sniffle as you pressed a small kiss on your husband’s exposed shoulder. “I’m so sorry I brought down your mood, Min. The p- ‘w-work,’ is just annoying right now. It’s your birthday, it’s supposed to be a good day.” you mumbled, looking down at your hands.

“Shh, don’t you worry your little head about it,” Minseok assured, kissing your forehead. He tilted your head up and pressed his lips against yours. “All I want is for my baby to be happy today.” You gave him a weak smile and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling so lucky to have him in your life.

“C’mon, let’s go to the food court. All this stress made me hungry.” you joked, standing from your spot. 

“Good idea,” Minseok gave you another kiss before walking back into the changing stall to change back into his regular clothes. “Oh, by the way, buy the pants.” You pumped a fist into the air as you took the hanging articles of clothing into your hands.

You were lucky (and frankly surprised) that nothing else had managed to go wrong today. You were suspicious that you hadn’t gotten any panic-stricken texts from Yixing or Junmyeon, but you couldn’t complain about that. Just to be sure though, you quickly texted Kyungsoo to give you a final update on the state of your house. You sighed in relief when he responded with pictures of your living room, kitchen and backyard decorated just how you envisioned it to be. You sent Kyungsoo a text back thanking him and everyone else profusely for their help.

The clock struck 5, indicating that it was time for you and Minseok to go home. The two of you exited the mall, arms filled with different shopping bags from all the stores you went to during the day. After putting your bags into the backseat of your car, you opened the passenger side of the car and slid in.

“Hm, I was thinking of ordering from that ramen place we tried last week. It was really good, don’t you remember?” Minseok suggested, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

“How ‘bout we wait ‘till we get home to... eat.” you responded, a shit-eating grin almost making its way onto your face.

Minseok hummed softly. “I just wanna spend the rest of the night with you and Tan at home, I hope no one’s planning a surprise party for me,” You tensed slightly at his words, looking out the window to avoid his gaze.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, hun.” You lied. He shrugged, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

When Minseok pulled into your driveway, you shot a quick text to the boys, telling them that you were home. You exited the car quickly, grabbing most of the shopping bags and taking Minseok by the arm, dragging him to the front door.

“Whoa, what’s gotten into you?” he chuckled as you struggled to get your keys out of your purse. Once you got them out and put the house key into the lock, you turned to Minseok and pressed your lips onto his.

“Happy birthday, Min. I love you so much. And I’m so sorry.” you unlocked the front door and pushed it open. You saw Minseok’s eyes widen at the sight of your home. It was filled to the brim with decorations and all of your closest friends holding gifts, balloons and tons of different ice cream cakes. 

“SURPRISE!” everyone exclaimed. Minseok’s jaw dropped as he fully took in everything that was happening. He looked over to you with a sly smile, to which you responded with a small shrug.

“I had to, come on.” You giggled, kissing him on the cheek. 

“It’s okay, hun. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.” Minseok cupped your face into his hands and pressed his lips onto yours.

“Gross, get a room!” you heard Baekhyun scream. You pulled away from Minseok to flip the younger off.

“Oh! I need to show you the cake I initially got for you but was unfortunately ruined because Chanyeol sneezed on it. Jun, is it in the fridge?” you pulled Minseok in the direction of the kitchen as Junmyeon confirmed the location of the cake.

“He... huh?”

“It was an accident!” Chanyeol whined. You laughed softly to yourself at his childish reaction.

Tonight was gonna be fun.

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #13: can we always be this close? - Mirio Togata

In which you and Mirio spend a very romantic birthday evening together.

Characters: Mirio Togata / f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) Quirkless Mirio, aged up characters, fluffy smut, fluffy fluff, this is tooth-achingly syrupy, with the barest edge of heartfelt angst. Boxed-birthday cake sweet.

Notes: It’s my birthday today. This is extremely feelsy and self-indulgent. I offer no apology.

Title inspired by this song.

Kinktober Masterlist

“Are you almost ready? Seriously gonna explode out here.”

You’re putting the last finishing touches on your hair as Mirio knocks on the bathroom door. Bless his heart, he’s been nice enough to give you full reign of the bathroom for the last hour and a half for the sake of your big reveal when you’re finally ready to go.

But you know Mirio well- big heart, small bladder.

“I’m coming!” You promise. “Thirty seconds and I’m outta here.” You take one last spritz of hairspray through your style, tousling the strands gently with your fingers. Then you unplug your styling tools, smooth on your favourite lipstick (the one that makes you look ‘the most kissable,’ according to Mirio) and pivot toward the door.

Your fingers hover over the handle for an instant. You take a deep breath.

When you pull the door open, Mirio’s standing directly on the other side of it. He looks polished as hell in a pair of well-fitting dark wash jeans and a turtleneck sweater that you bought him last winter. Your heart goes squish as you brace one hand in the frame of the door and watch his expression light at the sight of you.

“Aw, man,” he hums. His eyelashes flick downward as he takes you in. You’re dressed in the same fashion that he is- casual but polished, in a way that makes you feel the most comfortable and beautiful in your own skin.

“You sure it’s not my birthday?” He reaches for you, pulling you closer by the wrist. “’Cause lemme tell ya, that was worth waiting for.” He leans down and goes for a kiss, ducking sideways at the last moment to catch the corner of your mouth instead.

“Get in there,” you giggle, gently brushing past him and ushering him into the bathroom. “I’m hungry.”

Tonight’s dinner is something that Mirio insisted on. While the company you work for normally gives you a day off for your birthday, this year, yours happened to fall in the middle of the week. You decided to defer your day off until Friday, giving you a long weekend to enjoy instead. It means you still had to work on the actual day, but… you don’t mind. Not when Mirio’s been treating you like a princess from the moment you woke up.

He even stopped by your office earlier to drop off your favourite takeout for lunch. All your coworkers know him- he visits you at work a lot- and they’re completely smitten. You can’t help but adore how likeable he is, even if it tries your envious nerve every once in a while.

Your friends joke that he’s more like a golden retriever than a partner. But you know it goes both ways. You would do anything in the world for him.

You hold hands on the train like a new couple all over again, leaning against the doors and kissing between stops. You don’t care who sees. Mirio’s thrilled to be getting away with so much PDA. And when your stop finally comes up, you’re still grinning as you tug him onto the platform.

He takes you to your favourite restaurant, a ramen place downtown. You get potato dashi ramen, which comes with chewy egg noodles and a scoop of sour cream. It’s like a baked potato in a bowl of noodles. You know it’s not exactly the romantic evening that most couples would have planned, but there’s nothing that brings you more joy than cozying up in a little table by the window and slurping away on hot broth and noodles with Mirio smiling across at you.

As you’re finishing up, a slice of white chocolate cheesecake with a sparkler (and two forks) comes to your table. Mirio swears he had nothing to do with it, but he adores embarrassing you on your birthday. And the sparkle behind his navy gaze is a dead giveaway.  

It’s not until after you’ve both scraped the plate clean and you’re holding hands across the table that you decide to forgive him.

He’s brushing his thumb over your ring finger, toying back and forth with the sparkly diamond that sits there.

“Y’know,” he muses, “I was actually planning on saving that for tonight.”

You’re resting your chin in your other hand, but that doesn’t stop you from grinning. “Really?”

He nods, licking his lips to hide an indulgent smile. “I carried that thing around in my pocket for weeks. But then, when you said there was gonna be an eclipse…” He trails off and shrugs, smiling brighter. “It’s like it all fell into place.”

A couple of weeks ago, the moon fell into the Earth’s shadow for the first time in years. It was a beautiful clear night and just warm enough that the two of you could climb to the roof of your apartment building and huddle together under a couple of blankets.

It was there, under the dim glow of the eclipsed moon, that he’d dropped to one knee and promised you forever. To you, it was a complete surprise.

You’re still moony about it now. If you close your eyes, you can picture every single detail. But when you open them again, the look on Mirio’s face is not so different as he admires you across the table.

“It was perfect,” you told him. “That night was perfect.”

He pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your ring. “C’mon,” he mumbles. “Let’s get outta here.”

He takes you home and skirts you in the front door. Your apartment is still dark when he strokes your cheeks and kisses you, lingering and sweet in the hallway.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers to you, soft and vulnerable in the low light.

“I love you,” you murmur, holding him tight. He gets like this sometimes. He’s lost so much, it’s easy to imagine you slipping through his fingers, too. You know he’s trying hard not to let it show tonight but you’re not about to let that stop you. You reach for him, cupping his cheek and pulling his shadowy gaze to yours.

“Hey,” you whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he huffs, stealing another kiss as he scoops you into his arms. He whisks you into the bedroom, laying you across the sheets. He flicks on the lamp by your bedside and it casts a warm blanket of light across your body.

His weight descends on top of you and you catch yourself thinking if this is it, if nothing comes after this life with him, I’ll be okay.

He strips you down, piece by piece, kissing every inch of the skin he’s exposing. Every moment you spend together feels precious- you’ve both been reminded, time and time again, how quickly it can all be stolen from you. Not this, you pray when the night is at its darkest, take anything, but let me have him.

“Let me love you,” he whispers to you, sliding down your bare body, “with everything I have tonight.”

He loops his arms under your thighs, nuzzling the soft skin where your leg joins your body. His eyes stray to your face as he licks up your slit. He watches you sigh, watches you shiver, watches you fall.

But he’s always there to catch you.

He licks until you’re begging him to stop and comes back to you bare. His body is strong and sculpted but scarred, serving as a solemn reminder of the life he was forced to give up. Just another dream that had been stolen from him.

But you, the life that you’re capable of building together- that’s become his new dream. He’s promised to love you completely. He wants to raise your children. He wants to build you a home. Maybe he’ll never save a million souls, but if he can bring you happiness, if he can be good for you, that’ll be enough.

When you’re finally ready for him, he keeps his body as close to yours as possible while he pushes inside you. One of his hands grips your thigh, but the other is intertwined with yours, smoothing across the bedsheets as his thumb strokes your knuckles.

He’s steady and strong, but tender as a lamb, whispering his love for you as he fucks you slow and rhythmic. You clutch at his back and grab his ass, urging his rhythm forward. But he keeps it easy until he can’t take it anymore.

And when he breaks, he breaks hard.

He thrusts into you with a brutal rhythm, letting all the words die between you. The harsh breath that you share is punctuated by the slap of his thighs against yours. He slips a hand between your bodies, driving you to the edge one more time- whimpering and sighing and quivering through your climax- before he can’t hold out and slips into ecstasy alongside you.

When he loses himself against you, you hold him tight and savour every moment. The tremor of his thighs against yours. The way his voice jumps from his chest to his throat as his expression scrunches into one of sheer ecstasy. The spill of sloppy warmth inside you-sinfully satisfying. But more precious than anything is the way that he collapses on top of you and peppers slow, sweaty kisses across your skin before he’s ready to pull out.

When he finally rolls off of you, you’re quick to shift onto your side, reaching for him. You wind your arms around one another, and he draws you in close, letting you rest your chin on top of his head as your legs tangle.

“Happy Birthday,” he mumbles into your neck, for only the dozenth time that day. You close your eyes and try to suppress your laugh, but you know he can feel it vibrating in your chest.

“What a time to remind me,” you tease. “I’m getting old.”

“Oh!” He bolts upright, suddenly alert. “Your present, baby.”

“No way. Give it to me tomorrow,” you hum. “I’m not letting you out of bed.”

“But…” He turns back to you, pouting. “I can’t give it to you a day late. That’s like… like I missed it.”

“How about…” you trail off, “I open it first thing in the morning. You’ll know and I’ll know. Nobody else will. Please? I’m so comfy.”

Satisfied, he settles down again. This time it’s your head he tucks under his chin, kissing the top of your head.

Later that night, moments from sleep, you feel him stir in your arms. He kisses your head again, wraps his fingers gently around your palm. You don’t move.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he whispers to you. “I’m the luckiest man in the world, y’know that?”

You drop off a few minutes later in total peace. It’s not something you ever thought you would have, but… with him, it comes as easy as the morning.

[atsunflower]

Rated: SFW

Author notes: *sigh* for the third time the damned app ate up the tags. This one took me too long and I'm excited for write about my man suna again. This is also pretty different from what I'm used to write, but why not? Please enjoy your reading.

Warnings: cursing, substance usage/mentions, break-ups and me trynna be funny.

I – Cancel me.

Previous || Next

He looked at them with expectation as the beats smoothly faded, indicating the song's ending. 

If he were to be honest, the pair before him was a pain in the ass, but their opinion was that important because, when it came to music, they were the best at it. He felt no shame nor jealousy in admitting it.

"Dunno, the hook sounds like a Vice headline ta me." The bleach-haired male said, hearring the song's outro blaring through the studio speakers.

"Isn't it a Kid Milli reference, tho?" The other asked while munching a chip. He frowned at them, not understanding their point.

"Whatever. You two are no help anyways." Hearring their bullshit, the brunette already regretted this collab. He paused the queued song, turning to the other two with a blank stare.

The twins before him snickered, knowing they successfully hit a nerve. They couldn't help it, provoking Suna was one of their favorite hobbies.

"The song is good, but I gotta tell ya this butt hurt phase of yers is pretty lame." The faux-blond opened his mouth again, spinning around the studio with the desk chair. 

"Fuck you, Atsumu" He snapped, almost giving in to the desire of decking them both on the face.

"Tsumu's right, ya Lil Peep wannabe. Can't believe this break up ended up that bad." Osamu said in mockery, throwing the empty Lay's wrapper at him. He scoffed, disposing the wrapper on the bin before getting back at the screen to look at the FL studio interface.

"It's not that I have a broken heart. I just wanna know what's wrong with my life" He shrugged, blindly tacting over the desk in search of his Juul.

"Yeah Samu, he's just grieving over those fancy ass Dior Jordans. Sunarin is incapable of mundane things like a broken heart." His blond friend was partially right.

Suna Rintaro was many things: alt model, music producer, cloud artist and a decent volleyball player that almost went pro. But if there was something he could never be, it was a lucky man on love matters.

With his fair share of failed relationships, the artist could never pinpoint when things went wrong. It would always be the same: he would meet a girl, they would have a good time and then, the chick would turn out demanding as fuck.

In the end, every single one of them would slap him across the face and leave his life banging the front door shut like crazy — last week, it was Mika who broke things off, but not before setting his limited edition pair of jordans on fire. He would never get over those sneakers.

"Good for him, those kicks were kinda ugly." Osamu said in a bored manner. Suna felt his soul leaving his body.

"The hell, Osamu?" He was ready to fight, deeply offended by the attack at his taste in fashion.

"Yo, you two." Atsumu butted in, checking something on his phone "Y'all are drifting away from our problem."

"That is?" The other brother asked.

"Cheer up Sunarin before he fucks up with the Album." If Suna had the energy, he would kick both Miyas out of his studio "And I gotta the perfect thing. Let's hang out at Akagi's tonight, he just invited us." The already distressed musician felt the soul leaving his body for the second time that afternoon. He was sure both twins wished his death.

"Not a fucking chance. Last time I went there I almost died because of that weird stuff we smoked." 

"Aw, Sunarin, Kita'll be there too." The faux-blonde tried to persuade. The mention of their older, responsible and straight edge friend made Suna look at them with interest. But he needed more, though. Based on the last experience, he didn't have the will to risk his life going to Akagi's house once again. A shiver descended his spine as the male recalled how much he threw up that night.

"Suna, man, I gotta agree with Tsumu. Yer feelings are showing in your music." Osamu said as if he was some kind of genius.

"Isn't art about it, tho?" He deadpanned "Expressing feelings and shit?" He asked, staring them dead in the eye. The males before him shivered because of its intensity. Suna snickered.

"Man says art, but most of his songs are about the Nikes on his feet and the Tesla in his garage." Atsumu mocked "What the fuck?" The blonde barely dodged the moleskine thrown at him.

"Don't chew on me when you do the same, asshat. This is called character development." As unnerving the twins were, he felt a whole lot better in their company "Just lemme produce my sad stuff in peace."

"Cut us some slack, ya dumbfuck. We're just worried about ya." Osamu protested " 'Sides, no wonder no girl sticks by yer side. You know what the chicks find sexy? Seizing the means of production, not yer dumb car."

"You two are so la—" The musician was interrupted mid sentence, startled by the blond figure clutching his phone with enthusiasm.

"Oi Samu," Atsumu's loud voice startled the other two, as he excitedly fisted the air.

"What the fuck?" Suna asked, dropping the Juul on the floor.

"She'll be there tonight." The blond said, looking at his brother with a new wave of joy.

"The fuck? She who?" The brunette frowned.

"Ya gotta go and find out, man." The gray haired twin said with a knowing smile, matching his brother's excitement.

The night out felt somewhat draining. The booze, the music and the company were great, but his lack of energy was a mood killer.

Cheer me up my ass, Suna cursed internally as he observed everyone getting wasted all over the place. He grimaced at the sight, realizing the meeting with the twins was enough social interaction for the day.

He didn't know what's gotten into him. The male knew it wasn't necessarily caused by the break up, but he couldn't help the feeling down.

Right now, life just felt lowkey suffocating. 

Being a public figure meant being under the spotlights the most of time.

People talked.

People assumed.

Media was all over him, ready to catch a scandall.

And of fucking course his name was on gossip headlines. It even occupied a spot on twitter trending topics for a day or so.

"Fuck me." He said before the lukewarm beer went down his throat.

"Sunarin!" He heard Atsumu shouting from his right "I want you to meet someone!" And only now he noticed the blond had his left arm over a girl's shoulders.

Oh, that's the one they were talking about, maybe? the brunette realized. What's the hype, tho? He asked himself, eyeing your figure.

"[Name], this is Suna. Sunarin, this is [Name], best girl ever and the mastermind behind the visuals of mine and Samu's last album" The bleach-haired male said with a proud smirk, ruffling your hair. You were obviously shy.

How cute, the brunette thought.

"Dumbass, don't embarrass me in front of others!" You nudged the Miya with your elbow "Nice to meet you, I saw your name on TMZ last week—" You said beaming and he grunted.

I take it back. Not cute at all, the man internally screamed, not ready to talk about the recent events. He didn't even want to listen to the rest of your speech, your cheery voice went through his ears in a white noise.

"And this makes me really excited for your album. The interview about the collab with dumb and dumber was lit." You continued, the words were genuine and you seemed really interested "And I also relate on a spiritual level because I know working with them is hell."

Oh, she's talking about the album. He realized in relief.

"Yo, I heard good things about you too. The design of their album was hella sick, even though they two suck ass." Suna snickered when he heard Atsumu protesting. You only left out a giggle, joining him on the teasing.

The blond kept ranting about how bad of friends the two of you were.

"I didn't introduce y'all ta gang up on me. Bye, I'm finding another company. Ya two suck." The blonde Miya said, leaving only you and Suna in the sofa area.

"Uh, so…" He drifted off, trying to start some small talk

"Yeah..." You both giggled at the awkwardness "Not enjoying the night?"

"Too much happening right now. Lots of people talking shit 'bout me." He sipped the beer, grimacing at the stale taste of the drink "Hope they cancel me already. So all this shit dies down." Suna looked away, suddenly shy for opening up to a stranger.

"You're a famous guy and the break-up wasn't that scandalous. It'll be over eventually, just beware the sneaker cult." Your amusement was comfort enough. You didn't make intrusive questions about the events and merely joked it off. He felt so worn out by the situation but, at least, your presence wasn't overbearring.

"How is it everyone knows about the jordans?" You shrugged it off, laughing at the distressed face he mocked. Sighing in relief, Suna couldn't deny how refreshing your presence was. Not to be a jerk, but usually, the girls either were all over him or judged every single move he made. You were just that easygoing.

"Well, I don't think you came here to sulk on the sofa all night long. Why don't we join them by the pool and down some shots?" You hopped off of your seat, pointing to the glass doors. All the boys were waving at you two and suddenly, Suna felt a wave of joy run down his body.

Atsumu was right. Best girl ever.

At some point of the night, everything became about you.

All he could hear was the sound of your voice and all the time, his eyes were drawn to your figure. He couldn't figure out a reason for it, but the rapper wasn't complaining either.

A sharp pang at the side of Suna's head broke the trance he was in. Osamu had a shit eating grin on his face, eyeing the ravenette with amusement.

"We told ya so." The younger twin mused whilst he handed a long neck of vodka to the other.

"Stop. This is dumb."

"Yer dumb. But you ain't that dumb ta dare ta mess with her." The gray-haired Miya squinted at him, menacingly pointing the bottle in his hand at the brunette. The latter shrugged it off, opening his drink.

"Nah, I'm good." And he meant it.

But how could he explain the situation he was in?

Lips and hands wandered over the expanse of his skin. Everything was too hot and too good at the same time. Overwhelming, even.

He wanted more, more and more. There wasn't enough of you.

And if it wasn't unfair enough, his body felt lethargic. He was desperate, but couldn't keep up with the rhythm you imposed. Be it the alcohol or the stress, his body gave up and blacked out, even before you could undress each other.

In the morning after, a pounding headache woke him up. Suna didn't dare to open his eyes, but the morning breath fanning over his face was unbearable.

"I can't believe a cutie like you have a stinky breath like this." The complaint came out in a raspy voice, accompanied by an annoyed grunt.

Someone snickered on the other side of the room.

"Man, I didn't know you had the hots fer Samu." Atsumu was somewhere across the room, laughing at him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Hearing the other, Suna's body jolted, dizziness made his head spin in the process. He felt sick in the stomach and the morning light made his eyes sting. "When did I get back here?" The male looked around, realizing he was sprawled over Akagi's floor, right beside Osamu, who didn't even squirm at the loud voices in the room.

"What do ya mean? We never left" Atsumu frowned, uncaping a water bottle he was holding "Ya puked on Kita and passed out. The boys were too wasted ta drag yer sorry ass back home so we all crashed here." The blonde was dumbfounded, trying to figure out how wasted Suna got last night.

Suna wanted to know too. After all, there was no way the events envolving you were a product of his drunk mind.

facts:

• Suna's artist name is yosemite.

• He has a Tesla Model S because of Frank Ocean.

• He takes his Nikes very seriously.

• No, not all of his songs are about the car and the kicks.

• He and the Miya twins got a sports scholarship because of volleyball, but they dropped out of school to make music.

• The three of them created Inarizaki, the label they're making music under. Kita and Aran manage it.

• Both Miya twins are beatmakers and music producers. They recently debuted as artists and now are making a collab EP with Suna, thus Atsumu's concern about the album.

[secret-engima]

This. Has been a perfectly terrible day. Can I beg you for a ficbit or a snippet from one of your works, like Team Gremlin or Noctscar or something ? I just - they’re beautiful, and I just really, really need something beautiful right now.

SURE. I don’t have much in the way of snippets, but lemme see what I can find. I might have to throw in something from BNHA cause that’s the fandom the muses are chewing on this exact second.

...

Team Gremlin:

     It had been … a very bad few weeks for Qrow all told. And that was saying something. Everything had seemed fine one day, business as usual. Tai was back from his requisite number of missions to keep his license and teaching at Signal again —which he genuinely seemed to enjoy for some reason—, his nieces were as adorable as ever, and Summer was sometimes talking his ear off about maybe taking a teaching position somewhere herself after running a few missions to keep her own license active —she’d been busier lately with the girls than running around kicking butt, but it wasn’t like Qrow blamed her for that—.

     Then Leo was found dead in his office. Knifed in the neck, one round discharged from his weapon in the direction of the guest couch, blood pooling all over the chair and low table where the investigators said he’d been dragged from and laid on the floor in some kind of pose. No one unusual had been seen going in or out, there had been nothing on the office cameras —covered by a Semblance of some kind, it was decided, because of the fading, glass-like Aura shards on the floor—. The only warning had been the sound of Leo’s single shot before he died. Qrow had arrived as soon as he could to help investigate, since the primary suspect would … not be one the police even knew to look for. He had helped Dyna —poor woman had been wire tense with rage rather than her usual calm self, and it was no wonder—, search for clues the police would miss, then searched the secret tunnels for good measure.

     They had found a Grimm inside one of the deeper antechambers, far too deep to have gotten there by accident, a strange, jellyfish like beast that had been surprisingly hard to kill for something that small. They’d never seen it’s like before, and the thought of it being under the school, where kids were, where Oz and his inner circle were supposed to hold sway-. He’d never seen the otter Faunus more furious as they stood amid the fading Dark dust, her lips twisted, brow wrinkled in a way that had made the black line and red dots of her old bandit tattoos look more pronounced.

     They’d found no other signs that Salem knew how to get into the school tunnels, but they rechecked them all and trapped several of the ones leading outward as temporary security measures. With Dyna in place as the new —temporary on paper but soon to be permanent— Headmaster, Qrow had gathered up what evidence they could pry loose from their police contacts and gone back to Oz so they could try to sort this out.

     Of course, Qrow’s first impulse was to blame Salem, but Oz had listened to the report of a jellyfish Grimm under the school and his expression had folded into something pained. Knowing. He must have known what kind of Grimm it was, but hadn’t elaborated yet, just told Dyna to investigate all of Leo’s documents, Scroll calls, and communications over the past year, and insisted he would not explain until there was either evidence or not for his theory, for fear of making them biased.

     So, with Salem seemingly not the automatic culprit, they had started hunting for info. Summer had offered to come back and help, but Oz had told her to stay on her chosen mission instead.

     The pen had been an unexpected complication.

...

Always I Dreamed verse

     Summer ducked past her into the shower as Raven left it, pausing to stare at Raven’s tattoos for only a moment before chirping a quiet good morning and asking if she was okay after yesterday. Raven just grunted, because she was combat functional and frankly that was all that mattered. She had already pulled on her clothes from yesterday —all their possessions were in her inventory and she didn’t want questions on where it came from, she’d have to stuff it all in a duffel bag and hide it in the den to explain that away later— by the time Taiyang got up and Raven remembered the uniforms. Raven nudged open the bag while Qrow ducked out of their den and peered over her shoulder, “Everybody has to wear that stuff?” Qrow sneered as Raven pulled out the first button down shirt, “Hardly looks sturdy.”

     “It’s just for the school grounds I think, we have our combat gear for training missions and stuff anyway.” Taiyang said as he pulled out a shirt of his own from a different bag. Raven took a moment to glance at his bare torso. He slept in pants but not a shirt apparently, which was stupid, but better than being entirely naked at night. He had a decent build, which she knew from watching him fight yesterday, and a truly appalling lack of scars. Her life had been saved by somebody who had probably never had a truly decent fight in his life before that day. Wonderful.

     He also had tattoos, and Raven squinted at them for a moment because despite the differing size and placement, they all looked very much like the ones Raven and Qrow had gotten during a rare moment of total drunkenness at fifteen. He was missing the large asian dragon outline that wound up Raven’s own torso, but he had the blue crow perched as if about to take flight that Raven had, the running blue wolf who’s lower half dissolved into petals, and she thought she glimpsed a blue clockwork rabbit under his right arm. When he turned around briefly to put his back to them, she saw that most of his back had been taken up with the stylized outline of a raven in flight.

     She shook her head and looked away. Whatever. Summer possessed a tattoo on her arm similar to the asian dragon winding up Qrow’s arm from elbow to shoulder. Some tattoos were just popular, and blue ink was easier to come by for fill-in tattoos than the black used for outlines.

     Qrow must have remembered Taiyang’s words last night about Raven’s uniform being at the top, because he was already rooting down to the outfit right beneath hers —there was more fabric in the bag than that, but Raven wasn’t going to worry about why just yet—. He yanked out a shirt and jacket that looked his size, then blinked when something short and plaid tumbled out with it. Snatching it up, he unfolded it and made a face, “Is this a skirt? With my uniform?”

     Summer poked her head out of the bathroom, a wash of steam following her —oh right, hot water showers were a thing, darn— while Taiyang looked from Qrow to the skirt and back. Qrow was busy staring at the skirt, so he missed the expression of pure glee that flickered over the other teen’s face before he casually said, “What, that? It’s a kilt, man. Old Vale tradition.” Raven blinked very slowly, because that was a surprisingly good lie even though she knew it was nonsense —her memory on early canon was fuzzy, but she would have remembered the male characters running around in skirts—. She debated calling him on it for a moment, but she was from outside the kingdoms like Qrow, so technically she had no way to know that Taiyang was lying.

     Besides, if Taiyang wanted to poke the bear that was her brother’s temper, better he do it now and get it over with than later when they were training.

     Qrow was still making annoyed noises under his breath as he examined the “kilt”, and a glance at Summer slipping out of the shower in a towel showed she was fighting down laughter. Silver eyes met Raven’s with hopeful amusement and Raven looked away. She was still angry that the Story had forced itself into place in her life. With a shake of her head, Raven finished yanking out her uniform —one of? There was so much fabric in there, did the school really waste money making multiple outfits for each student?— and started pulling off her old clothes to put it on. Taiyang made a noise like someone had knifed him just as she dropped her shirt to the floor and she looked up in alarm. Taiyang had whipped around to put his back to her, and she could see the flush of color crawling up his neck and the backs of his ears. He didn’t look hurt or anything, but when Summer wandered in and dropped her towel onto her bed to put on her uniform —huh, she had the same tattoos as Raven, Qrow, and Taiyang, just with the perched crow as a large outline that went down to her mid back and a large blue raven in flight over her abdomen that looked like the smaller one on Qrow’s back—, Taiyang made the dying noise again, snatched up his bag of clothes, and rushed for the bathroom.

     Raven had the feeling she should understand what that was about, but she didn’t get it, and when she risked a glance at Summer, the other girl actually looked just as baffled. So maybe it wasn’t some social thing she’d forgotten. Maybe it was just a thing with him specifically.

...

Feather-Light and Fire-Bright verse (BNHA)

     Which was why, the next time she spotted a little red feather slinking over to place a trio of shiny buttons on the park bench she liked best, she hastily caught it with one hand. It was very soft, wiggling slightly in her grip, twitching and fluttering almost like a frightened living thing, so much so she shushed it gently on instinct, “It’s okay, I won’t damage you.” Taking out the note she’d spent days agonizing over, she skewered it to the quill of the feather, “I need you to take a message to whoever controls you.” She let it go and the feather wiggled erratically in the air, like a cat trying to wiggle free of an unfamiliar collar before flitting away. Fuyumi resisted the urge to chase it and see where it led. She’d sent her note, now she would wait for a reaction.

     She absently took the three coat buttons and put them in her pocket before going home. It would be stupid to leave them as litter in the park, but it also felt like a bad idea to throw them away and possibly anger whoever was watching her. Besides, she had a collection going now, she almost had enough matching buttons to make a full set for a long coat.

     A week went by with no sign of her shadow before she finally spotted a red feather again. It lurked on the edges of the park, flitting out into view as she walked by before slipping off in the direction of a more sequestered part of the park. Fuyumi hesitated, saw the feather come back and swirl around her a few times like an excited puppy before rushing off again and decided she was either about to meet someone shy or about to be kidnapped and potentially murdered. Slipping her hand into her handbag to grip the small pro-grade taser inside just in case, Fuyumi followed the feather into the copse of trees that shielded that part of the park from the street and the rest of the grassy area.

     The feather slipped away to rejoin … a lot of other feathers, and Fuyumi paused on the edges of the little forested nook to get a good look at her mysterious shadow for the first time. Golden eyes, piercing and almost predatory in intensity, flitted up to meet her gaze as he stood up. He was about her age she would guess, maybe a year older, so lean that if she hadn’t been able to see the muscles of his bare arms she would have called him scrawny. He was wearing a sleeveless hoodie that looked like it had lost a few too many rounds with a washing machine, clean but all faded and stretched and worn looking. His hair was all tousled and pale gold, and the red feathers were clustered on his back in huge wings that looked like they belonged on someone about twice his size and weight. He smiled a little, a practiced thing that was too nervous to be real, but if Fuyumi hadn’t lived her entire life around Pro Heroes and the children of other such elites, she would never had known.

     He held up her note between too fingers, not commenting on the wary distance still between them nor making any moves to close it, “Um, I’m not a stalker, just wanna get that out of the way. Sorry if I … came off that way? I’m, uh, not good at introducing myself and I didn’t … really know what else to do.”

[writemydaydreams]

Work In Progress Wednesday 

So! I’m releasing the first chapter of a new fic tomorrow so how about a preview? The first 4 and a half of 6 (or possibly 7) chapters are written so I’ll do a chapter a week. I’ll put the preview below the cut.

Rating: M

Chapters: 6 or 7

Title: In This Lifetime or the Next

Pairing: InuKag

Summary: The dreams have started. Inuyasha knows what it means, knows what comes next. His soulmate is alive and she’s ready to be found; but this time, he is not ready to find her. Because he is cursed. Because every time he finds her, she dies. Because she’s never lived more than a year after the first dream.

It shouldn’t be possible to get a demon this drunk.

“What do you mean you’re not going to look for her?” Koga asked, leaning over the bar and eyeing the woman serving drinks, again. His speech wasn’t slurred but he had no volume control and he was swaying dangerously on the flimsy barstool.

“Will you keep your eyes in your fucking skull for five minutes?” Inuyasha asked, snapping his fingers in Koga’s face to draw his attention. “Aren’t you seeing someone?”

Koga scowled and turned back to his friend, swatting at the offending hand. “She kicked me to the curb. Said I wasn’t spending enough time with her or some shit. Whatever, you didn’t answer my question.”

The bartender came over to check on them and gave Koga the stink-eye when he tried to wiggle his eyebrows at her. When she walked away, Inuyasha said, “No wonder you dragged me out tonight. And seriously, the bartender isn’t interested. She can probably spot an asshole a mile away and you’re a giant flashing sign that just screams ‘asshole.’”

Koga scowled. “Fuck off and answer my question. You’ve done this, what, like five times now?”

He sighed, trying not to think about the specifics and failing. “Seven and I can’t fucking do it again. I’d rather be alone than-”

“Oh, cry me a fuckin’ river,” Koga growled and downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp. He slammed his glass back on the bar, drawing a few angry looks from other bar goers and the bartender. “What if this time is different?” He swayed dangerously on his stool and Inuyasha tensed, waiting to see if he’d have to play catch.

“You’re really fucking drunk,” Inuyasha pointed out. “Which is amazing for a full demon. And what if it isn’t? Why the fuck would it be any different this time around?” He put a hand up for the bartender to settle their tab. The wolf had had enough.

“You think...fuck. I should call her,” Koga mused, his mind jumping topics at a speed only achievable when shit-faced.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, knowing where this was going and asking anyway. “Call who?”

“My woman.” Koga started to tilt and Inuyasha shot a hand out to steady him. He should have just let the asshole fall. Luckily, the bartender was already there, taking Inuyasha’s credit card.

“Fucking hell, wolf shit. You’re not drunk calling your god damn ex.” One hand on his drunk friend’s shoulder, Inuyasha fished two 20s out of his wallet to throw to the bartender. She earned it dealing with Koga the last few hours. She took it with a grateful smile, handing his card back.

“Good luck with him,” she said, pointing at Koga without taking her eyes off Inuyasha. “Be safe and enjoy the rest of your night.” She shot one more look at him before sauntering off to wait on other customers. He was used to the looks his silver hair and gold eyes earned him. Even among demons he was exotic, an attractive novelty with fluffy fucking ears.

“Let’s get out of here.” Inuyasha stood and dragged Koga out of the bar.

When they were safely outside, he pulled out his phone to call for a ride. Carrying an inebriated demon halfway across the city was not high on his list of things he wanted to do on a Friday night. He debated who his best option would be. Miroku was spending the night with his girlfriend, probably being gross, so that was a no-go. Jinenji would be up but the guy was way too nice to put him through drunk-Koga hell and his wife would give Inuyasha an earful for dragging him out. Ginta or Hakaku would be ignoring calls, knowing how Koga got after a break-up. Shiori would do it but he didn’t want a woman for Koga to focus his attention on. Fuck.

He was gonna have to call the fox.

He popped in his custom-made earpiece (because it’s impossible to find earbuds that fit when you have dog ears) and scrolled through his contacts until he found who he was looking for. Shippo answered and it was clear he had been informed of things that Inuyasha had not. “Yo. Lemme guess: Koga’s break-up hammered and you need a ride?”

“How am I the last to hear about him getting dumped?” He growled and scowled at Koga. It was definitely a conspiracy.

“Someone had to deal with it and you seemed like the best option.” He could practically hear the fucker smirking. Yep, they’d set him up.

“Just get your ass down here.” He gave Shippo the address, keeping one eye and ear focused on Koga. At least Shippo was close by.

Turning his full attention back to Koga, he noticed the phone in his hand a little too late.

"Listen, I’m not even mad about that anymore. How about I come over there now and we can make up. I learned this new trick with my tongue and-" Koga didn't get to finish his sentence because Inuyasha snatched his phone away.

"First, gross. Second, what'd I fucking tell you? No drunk calls to your fucking ex." He glared at Koga, contemplating murder and the best place to dump a body, until a quiet voice distracted him. The ex was still on the phone.

"Hey, anyone still there?"

Shit. 

“Hey,” Inuyasha said, holding the phone so they could hear each other more clearly. It was awkward at best with his ears on top of his head but his half-dog-demon hearing made up for it. “Sorry about the asshat, I wasn’t paying enough attention.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I was kinda expecting it anyway,” she said and sighed. “I shouldn’t have answered my phone in the first place so it’s partially my fault.”

Inuyasha growled, fighting the urge to punch Koga in the throat. The woman’s voice was soft and sweet, gently caressing his sensitive ears. The thought of Koga getting anywhere near someone who sounded so...so pure made Inuyasha’s blood boil. “Keh, not your fault he’s an asshole.” Said asshole was making grabbing motions for his phone but Inuyasha swept a leg out casually, Koga’s ass meeting the ground hard enough that Inuyasha heard his teeth clack together. “Don’t worry, I’m not giving him his phone back until he’s sobered up a bit.”

“How much has he had to drink? It takes a lot to get a demon that drunk,” she commented.

“Too much, clearly. I can’t promise he won’t try to call you again when I’m done babysitting his ass. Want me to delete your number from his phone?”

“Hmm, it’s tempting but no.” She sniffled and he wondered briefly if she’d been crying. Just because she was the one doing the dumping didn’t mean she couldn’t be upset about it. “Is he...well, really upset? It wasn’t a...a nice breakup. I kind of...um...well, I accidentally shocked him with my reiki when he wouldn’t leave and I uh, I feel kinda bad.”

Inuyasha couldn’t stop the bark of laughter that escaped his throat. “You what? I mean, I’m sure he deserved it.” Koga grumbled from the ground beside him but Inuyasha ignored him.

“Don’t laugh,” she said but he could hear the amusement in her voice and the poorly stifled giggle. “I never trained beyond keeping it in so sometimes it just...escapes.”

He shook his head and chuckled but reigned in his mirth quickly. “You, uh...are you alright?” he asked, genuinely concerned for the woman even though he’d never met her.

“Oh, yeah.” She sighed and sniffled again. “I mean, I’m as good as I can be after something like that. Thank you though, for asking. Um...what was your name?”

“Oh, uh Inuyasha.” Should he have been on the phone this long with his friend’s ex? Absolutely not. Did he care at the moment? Also absolutely not. His brain was scrambling for a way to keep her talking so he could hear more of her melodic voice. His instincts were shouting at him to comfort and protect the woman on the other end of the phone. He needed to put a stop to that and soon.

“Well uh Inuyasha, my name’s Kagome. Thank you and, um...it was nice to meet you, kind of. Oh, I mean, it was nice to meet you but we only kind of met. Not ‘it was kind of nice to meet you’...um, shit. I’m rambling, sorry.” She giggled and he could feel his ears twitching at the sound. It was fucking adorable.

The awkwardness of it all made him chuckle. “I get it. You too, Kagome.” He liked how it felt saying her name. “And if asshat bothers you again, just let me know and I’ll deal with him for you.”

She giggled again and it just wasn’t fair what it was doing to him. “Will do. I...um, I gotta go. Bye, Inuyasha.” 

“Bye, Kagome.” He was sure he was grinning like an idiot by the time he hit the end call button. Hopefully, Koga was too drunk to notice.

“Gimme my phone back, shit-breath.” Koga had managed to get himself back to his feet at some point and was making a more focused grab for his phone. His scowl was a good indicator that he’d heard a good bit of the conversion. Inuyasha didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed when Inuyasha finally let the smile fall.

“Here, fuckface.” He tossed the phone in the air, Koga catching it with ease despite his drunkenness; he was already starting to sober up.

The blare of a car horn made them both jump. “You two assholes call for a ride?” Shippo yelled out the window. “Hope you know, I charge by the minute.”

Inuyasha pushed Koga into the car, trying and failing to not think of Kagome, thoughts of his soulmate forgotten for the time being.

[novantinuum]

Tides of Renewal (SU one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (Mild TW for vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Words: 2500~

Summary: Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Hi folks! This is actually my two-months-late “Happy Birthday, Steven” fic, ahah- amusingly, posted two months late to the day. I’m quite happy with how this short turned out.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

Tides of Renewal

Steven rises alongside the sun, but not by choice.

As he abruptly stirs, jerking onto his side under his tangled blanket, he soon realizes that he has little lingering memory of the nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Nevertheless, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s hanging in his throat. There’s feelings, faint impressions— someone’s blood (his, or hers?), Connie’s screams, a bubble of terror boiling from within— but that’s all he’s left with. The young man clutches at his sheets, struggling to catch his breath as is the norm most mornings. Dim light sneaks in between the edges of the curtains, offering a rough estimate of the time.

Once it’s clear his chances of sleeping in have become null and void, he entices himself out of bed with the promise of buying himself a muffin at the local coffee shop later today, a birthday treat. His routine is sluggish, but precise. He uses the bathroom, throws on his swim trunks and a thin cotton shirt, downs the pills he forgot to take last night with a quick swig of water, carefully runs his fingers through his long curls to work out the tangles, and slips his feet into the flip flops he always leaves lying right at the foot of his bed.

The young adult only takes his guitar, phone, and keys with him as he walks the mile distance from his humble studio apartment to the public beach. Around him, the world is at peace. The only sound intermingling with the gentle ebb and flow of the Pacific at this hour of the morning is the chattering of puffins that nest on the large rock outcroppings in the tide pools nearby. The edge of his lip quirks up when he finally crosses that sacred boundary— the sidewalk meeting the shore— and removes his sandals, reveling in the satisfying, grainy texture of sand squishing between his toes. Hah... the beach. Funny, that. All his traveling these past years, from mountains, to prairies, to sprawling suburbs to wooded forest towns, and it only succeeded in deepening his childhood love for the familiarity of saltwater air and tourist-filled boardwalks. Still, the secluded, rustic charm of Haystack Cove is a far cry from the Beach City he grew up in. Different people, different sights, different types of seafood sold at the markets. This place feels like a home all his own, appropriately distant from the Gem influenced settlement he’d left behind.

He crosses the fine grained sands towards his favorite sitting spot, a hefty stone jutting out from the ground, its surface buffed to a glossy finish over the years by the high tides. The water’s still distant this early in the morning, glimmers of sunlight sparkling off of the foam and spray. Yawning, he plops himself down on the stone and lifts his guitar into his lap. He strums a few random chords as a warm-up before settling into an experimental melodic sequence.

As he plays, the early morning breeze teases at the ends of his shoulder-length hair, untied and let free in all its curly splendor. It’s still quite chilly, but with the sun peaking over the horizon behind him and not a cloud in sight, the air’s bound to heat up in no time. Steven inhales deeply, soaking in the salt and light and pushing away the shadows lurking at the periphery of his mind, that twitching, exhausting anxiety that never quite seems to leave him alone these days. Unfortunately, functional does not mean carefree. While far fewer in number then when he was a teen, he still runs into plenty of moments where he’s struck blind by particularly painful reminders of his past, his gem snapping into overdrive in an instant. He’s a bit better at coping in these moments now, and walking himself down from panic attacks, but deep-rooted traumas don’t simply melt away. With that in mind, at this point he suspects he’ll likely have to deal with a mixture of therapy and meds for the rest of his life. That’s fine, though. If that’s what it takes to be at peace. He’s thankfully reached a point in his recovery where he’s more than willing to work for it.

Startling him out of his roaming thoughts, his phone chimes to life, touting the same cheery ring tone he had as a kid. He gently sets his guitar down in the sand and fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, a silent bet as to who’s calling rising within his mind. Sure enough, his dad’s contact photo proudly greets him. Hah— he called it. Steven stifles a giggle as he hits accept and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, Schtu-ball!” his father chimes from the other side of the country, three hours ahead. He hears a faint shuffle over the line, and then the beginnings of guitar accompaniment as the man begins to sing:

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Dad ends the line with a resounding vibrato, and a few extra jazzy chords for good measure.

“Heh heh, thanks,” he says, bashfully blushing at the attention, and gazing across the loose sands as if ensuring the secret of his birth hasn’t swelled into a nauseatingly public affair like half of his birthdays had since the start of Era 3. “Gotta say, the impromptu guitar solo pushed that to a whole new level. You just get up?”

“Yep! Bright and early. Garnet said you’d probably be awake by now, so I figured I’d call and give ya’ a good greeting to start the day. Lemme guess, you’re down there at the beach already? I think I heard waves.”

Steven’s glance lifts to admire the slowly rising tides, and the promise of each tomorrow that lies beyond. “Hah, you know me,” he says softly, taking a deep lungful of that precious salt-touched air he’s always adored. “I live for the water. Might force myself to go for a swim later before all of you come. Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging as he turns and squints in the wake of the steadily rising sun. “But my therapist said I should probably keep as active as po—“

“It’s your birthday. You do whatever makes you happy, bud,” his dad promptly reminds him, slight concern sticking to his voice. And yes, it’s practically a father’s job to worry, but his chest tightens with lingering guilt for pressing that upon him anyways. Ugh, this is because he said ‘force myself,’ isn’t it?

“Doing my best to,” he lamely offers, hoping it’ll at least end that segment of conversation. He twirls a stray strand of hair around his finger as he scours his memory for something new to offer. Thankfully, his mind quickly lands on the exciting email he received last night. He grins, knowing for sure his dad’ll love this. “Oh, uh- topic change, but I got that last job I applied for, by the way.”

“Oh? The taffy shop one?”

“Yeah! I start on Tuesday.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s awesome! They responded fast, then.”

“Yup,” Steven nods, popping the ‘p.’ “Honestly, it’s nothing much, just stocking and working the register, but it’ll give me some cash to work with.”

Some cash to finally pay for his own food instead of continuously bumming money off his dad. There’s no way he can handle full month’s rent on his own with this minimum wage job, (who on Earth could in this economy), but it might be enough to cover the smaller things. Groceries, electricity, internet. That sorta stuff. Fidgeting on the edge of the stone outcropping, his bare toes dig narrow lines in the sand. He hasn’t really had this discussion with Dad yet, but the mere concept of being wholly reliant on other people steers his mind uncomfortably close to the I’m a Burden Zone. He’d far prefer to feel like he has a stake in the game.

“I know you said you don’t mind supporting me,” he continues in a hesitant tone, twirling his finger through one of his curls, “but I still feel kinda bad—“

“Don’t. I’d rather you not have to stress yourself to the bone about money like I did when I was your age.”

The line shakes for a second. He’s pretty sure he hears the faint clink of a bowl meeting the counter from his dad’s side.

“Dad...?”

“Sorry, bud. Just putting ya’ on speaker. Figured I’d make myself some instant oatmeal,” he says, his voice sounding a bit further away from the microphone. “Goodness, though. Twenty years. That still boggles the mind.”

He gives a soft laugh. “You’re telling me. Could’ve sworn I was twelve just yesterday. And to be honest, it’s... it’s kinda weird sometimes, you know?”

“What is?”

“Being another year older. ‘Cause... well, uh...”

Steven grits his teeth, searching for the most delicate manner in which he can discuss these emotions. The feelings of his past are a really hard topic to dwell on sometimes, even in therapy, and even though he and his dad have long since had scattered discussions about what a poor mental state he was in then, he doesn’t wanna upset him too much.

“There were definitely days I assumed I wouldn’t have a future, or didn’t want one to begin with,” he continues, throat thick. “Back during all the conflict, before Homeworld reformed. And even after that, when I was... you know. And things are better, now, they’re definitely a lot better. But the idea of a ‘future’... even if I’ve got a job, a home, a girlfriend... it’s still weird to think about, I guess.“

There’s a brief silence on the line as this vulnerable admission sinks in.

“Yeah,” Dad replies eventually, clear sorrow in his voice despite how careful he thought he was in phrasing these matters. “I hear ya’.”

With a quick nervous laugh, he scratches at the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing against the thin, wispy strands of hair growing back there. “Geeze, sorry for bringing the mood down so quick. Didn’t even know I had all that on my mind until it spilled right out.”

“No, no! No need for apologies, I’m always here to listen. And in any case, I’m glad you’re in a better place now.”

Steven nods his head to himself in full agreement (momentarily forgetting that his dad isn’t actually here in the flesh to see this response). Sixteen and seventeen really, really weren’t good years for him. And even though he’s put lot of work into himself since then, he can’t help but constantly fear the possibility of relapse. His therapist told him a few sessions ago when he expressed this worry that... relapses into old thinking patterns can be common for people living with C-PSTD, and that it’s important for him to be cognizant of any unusual changes in his patterns and routines so he can quickly intervene with his box of healthy coping tactics, but... geeze. The dark, traumatic destinations his wandering thoughts end up stagnating in when the concept of relapse brushes his mind aren’t fun to acknowledge. It makes him yearn with deafening hunger for a simple switch he could flip, some magic cure-all for his brain that would stop him from having to deal with any of this awful shit in the first place— but of course, cruel universe this can be at times, those don’t exist.

“Speaking of that,” Dad speaks up again after clearing his throat, “how are those new meds treating you? You said last call your doctor was gonna change them, yes?”

“Nah, not change. There’s no need to change types,” he shrugs. “It’s just a dosage shift. And it’s fine, I think. I’ve been on ‘em for a few days, and there’s no problems so far. Brain's been treating me a little better.”

Nightmares aren’t quite as bad.

His energy isn’t totally zapped by noon.

The whirling, panicked trajectory of his thought patterns is a little easier to wrest control of.

All in all, nothing’s perfect, but he certainly feels a good deal more stable than before. Now, if only he can remember to consistently take his meds before he goes to bed like he’s supposed to instead of totally forgetting like he did last night and having to scarf it down when he sees that forsaken capsule in his pill box the next morning. Tsk, tsk.

“That’s real good to hear,” his dad responds to his news.

He flexes his knuckles against his lap, gaze reflexively drifting back towards the welcomed distraction of the tides. “Yeah.”

“Anyways, I, uh...”

“So, party logistics,” he cuts in with an overly cheery tone, changing the topic from his boring mental health crap entirely. “We should probably hash this out now. I know Connie’s planning on dropping around about noon. What’s your guys’ plan? She can probably send Lion to you after she gets here, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Pearl said there weren’t any convenient warps nearby. Well, there’s one- but apparently it empties out into an active lava tube. And that’s not exactly Dad-friendly.”

“Aww, you mean you’re not filled with the intense desire to dip your hand into molten lava and shlorp it up like it’s soup?” Steven retorts, only barely holding back his laughter as he thinks of this absurd text thread he had going with Connie a few weeks back, wherein she sent him a video of some volcanic flows and told him, verbatim, that 'despite all logic and reason sometimes I can’t help but look at super viscous lava and think... forbidden s o u p, mmmm.’

“Not particularly, no,” his dad says, sounding thoroughly confused. “I’m- why are you laughing? Is this some sort of weird internet thing I’m not familiar with again?”

He wipes tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “You, ah- you kinda had to be there, sorry. Anyways, yeah. I’ll have Connie send Lion. I’ll text you right before, how’s that?”

“Sounds great! Can’t wait to see ya’, bud. I’m gonna let you go, now, okay? I can talk your ears off later. Go enjoy your morning. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Bye.”

“Buh-bye.”

Once his dad hangs up he sets his phone beside him on the rock and takes a deep, steady breath, trying to capture the full nuance of each diverse scent in the air. He may just be imagining it, but he swears he’s able to pick out the faint scent of taffy intermingling with the ocean saltiness and the hint of cedar from the nearby state forest. In the end though, whether it’s real or not it’s a welcomed reminder of all the possibility the future holds for him.

He’s twenty now. It’s a brand new decade of life. He’s got a new job lined up, a stable and loving relationship, a supportive family, and plenty of courage in facing the shadows of his past. Sure, so maybe he’ll never know with certainty what will happen— maybe he’ll relapse a little, maybe he’ll still have some bad days sprinkled amongst the good ones— but as he watches the tides flow in to greet him, he smiles... and resolves to just take this year as a renewal of his vow to care for himself as best he can.

[knivestothroats]

So I was talking to @delightful-dreadful about his Alexander and Luka characters and he had an idea and I was like... listen, lemme write that for you. Please.

For some context, basically Alexander has a friend, Sam, over and is showing off Luka. They are discussing what to do to him, Sam suggests needles. And.. go!

content warnings: I don’t know what to call it, but Luka is held in place with a nail through a pre-existing piercing hole. Also caning (brief), knives, cigarette burns, captivity, violent/sadistic whumper. No actual use of needles, actually!

“I don’t like needles,” Luka said in a small voice, worrying his hands against each other.

Alexander scowled, making an annoyed noise. He pulled a knife from the sheath on his belt - a sharp-looking hunting knife with a gut hook on the back.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Luka’s eyes widened. 

“Wh.. n-n…” 

He didn’t even want to speak, knowing forming vowels would cause his mouth to open.

Alex reached out and grabbed his chin roughly. He brought the knife in close.

“Open your mouth. Now.”

Tears stung at the backs of Luka’s eyes as he gave in and slowly let his jaw hang open.

“Wider,” Alexander ordered, laying the blade flat against Luka’s bottom lip. “Show Sam what a liar you are.”

Luka didn’t understand, but he conceded.

Alexander slipped the knife in and caught Luka’s tongue stud with the gut hook, tugging it forward.

With a surprised, “Ahh!” Luka let his tongue be pulled out of his mouth. 

“If you hate needles, why so many piercings?” Alexander questioned. “You must have liked getting your ears done enough to get this one.” 

He tugged with the knife, eliciting a scared moan from Luka. 

“Anything else pierced?” Sam teased.

Alexander slipped the hook off from around the stud and let go of Luka’s chin. Luka closed his mouth and swallowed nervously. He knew Alexander’s reasoning was bullshit, but he also knew he couldn’t say that.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly instead.

“Lie to me again” Alexander threatened, “and I’ll take the stud out and nail your tongue to the table.”

“Oh!” Sam practically yelled.

Alexander and Luka both turned to look at him.

“Can we do that?” he asked excitedly.

~~

“Comfortable, Luka?” Alexander mewed, pacing around behind him, out of Luka’s line of sight.

Luka can’t answer of course. Alexander had taken the stud out of his tongue and slipped a nail through the opening, hammering it down to the surface of the table. The best he could do was let out a whine from the back of his throat. It was a rhetorical question anyway; he just needed to give Alexander a response.

Sam was sitting across the table from where Luka was bent over it. He had his chin resting in his hand, watching Luka with loving eyes. 

“Sounds like a yes to me,” Sam said with a grin.

Luka let out a shaky breath. He wanted to reposition, but he had no range of motion. Saliva was beginning to pool in his open mouth, and he could already feel an ache starting to form in his spine.

Just as he thought of his spine, Alexander’s hand ran up it.

“What shall we do now?” he mused. “I hate to waste this opportunity. Such a vulnerable position you’re in.”

“D’you ever whip him?” Sam asked casually.

Luka’s wide eyes shot up to Sam. He couldn’t stifle his nervous whine as he clenched his hands into fists, bracing them against the table.

“Or a cane,” Sam continued with a shrug.

“I don’t know,” Alexander said. “Might cause too much movement. Wouldn’t want it to rip out right off the bat.”

“Naw, I think he could stay still and take it,” Sam said. He leaned in over the table towards Luka. “Right? You want to be good for Alex, don’t you? I mean, you’re the one who’ll get hurt if you don’t.”

Alex walked around into Luka’s field of vision so they could see each other’s faces. 

Luka couldn’t say no. He couldn’t beg. He couldn’t even shake his head. All he could do was whimper pitifully, drooling onto the table, as he looked up at Alexander with pleading eyes.

Alexander walked away without a word. Luka’s heart rate picked up as he lost sight of his owner. Behind him, out of view, Alexander picked up a cane.

“We’ll try it once; see how it goes.”

Luka was breathing hard, trying not to move. He uncurled his fists and dug his fingernails into the table. He couldn’t see Alexander, but he could see Sam. He watched Sam’s eager eyes track Alexander’s movement excitedly. 

The eyes went up.

The cane came down hard on Luka’s back.

Luka let out a strangled cry and jerked forward. He felt the stinging pull in his tongue as hot pain blossomed across his back. 

Alexander walked around the table while Sam giggled like an excited kid in a toy shop. Tears blurred Luka’s vision, but he could see Alexander’s hand coming close, pointing.

“Fresh blood,” he stated. “He’ll move too much.”

Sam scoffed. “You’re worried about him bleeding?”

Alexander made a contrary hum as he walked away to exchange the cane with a different tool.

“I just want him to bleed the right way.”

Sam’s face lit up again, and he turned his hungry eyes back to Luka.

“Now, Luka,” Alexander said. He pushed Luka’s shirt up, exposing his back. “You know how to be good for me under the knife, don’t you?”

Luka squeezed his eyes shut and let out a whine. 

“Show Sam how good you can be for me,” Alexander said.

Luka felt the cold, sharp tip of a blade line up against his skin. He felt the sting as it broke through and slid across his back. A breathy whimper crawled its way out of his throat, but he didn’t move. He could feel the hot blood pooling up and spilling out of the wound, cooling against his skin in the chill of the basement. The knife lined up against his skin again.

Luka kept still through all of them. Finally, Alexander felt satisfied. He reached forward and ruffled Luka’s hair, being gentle enough not to move his head.

“Good boy, Luka,” he cooed. “I’ll go get what I need to get you cleaned up. You wait here with Sam.”

As if he had a choice.

Sam sat back in his chair and grinned. They watched Alexander disappear up the stairs. Sam let out a breath. 

“I feel like I need a cigarette after that,” he said with a chuckle. He fished a box out of his pocket, followed by a lighter. 

Luka watched uneasily as he blew out a stream of smoke. 

Sam glanced over his shoulder towards the stairs, then leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper.

“Alex doesn’t like me smoking in his house,” he said. “So when he comes back down, I’m gonna have to put it out real quick. But you won’t tell on me, right?”

Luka blinked, and gave a small noise of confirmation, just to give something.

Sam continued to smoke in silence, eyeing Luka like he was a work of art displayed in a gallery. When the first footstep creaked at the top of the stairs, Sam wasted no time in leaning forward and stubbing his cigarette out of Luka’s tongue. 

Luka let out a scream and instinctively tried to pull away, only serving to tear at the hole in his tongue.

He wondered if the stud would even fit by the time they were done.

Alexander stopped at the foot of the stairs. His eyes moved from Luka, a puddle of drool, blood, and tears forming around him, to Sam, who was reclining casually in his chair.

“I was gone for less than five minutes and you're giving my boy cigarettes?” Alexander shook his head. “It’s a bad habit.”

“Oh, I gave him one alright,” Sam laughed.

Alexander set the supplies down on the table in front of Luka, who looked up at him with tear-blurred vision.

“Would you like me to dress your wounds first?” he asked. “Or would you like me to let you up first?”

Luka made a nervous noise, followed by just any sort of noise he could manage, hoping that Alexander would interpret it the way Luka wanted him to.

“Hm, you’re right, Luka,” Alexander said. “Your back is already so perfectly exposed, I should start with the dressings.”

Luka huffed miserably. He did his best not to flinch as Alexander cleaned his wounds and applied the gauze. It wasn’t too long before Alexander came back around, hammer in hand.

Luka began to panic. His breathing quickened and his fingers scrabbled at the table. 

It made sense, he supposed. But he still didn’t want it to happen.

“Open wide,” Alexander said, easing the claw of the hammer into his mouth. 

Luka whined around the cold metal invasion, but tried to keep his breathing steady and his jaw wide.

He felt the nail slide out against the torn flesh of his tongue. The end of the hammer clacked against the back of his top teeth and Alexander had to reposition to get the nail the rest of the way out. It wasn’t until Luka saw Alex draw the hammer fully away, bloody nail dangling from it, that he eased his sore jaw closed.

He tasted metal.

[bittybattybunny]

Please lemme read Cafe Latte!

Order up!!!

Alright so here’s what I had written for this before I dropped the project to focus on TLC and then swapped to the Mermaid Plot instead for Hattie’s parents

I also included the Synop I originally wrote when it was gonna be posted on Ao3 if I finished it

    So A Time Traveler, her older inter-dimensional Demon brother, and a lawyer walk into a Cafe---

Arulius Law was a tired law student trying his best to manage school work and his Controlling girlfriend Vanessa. His life changed when a girl's dog ran into him in the park! Meeting that same girl again when walking home, he got dragged through a time rift and the two are trying to fix the matter together!

“Damnit, Damion! HEEL!” The young woman shouted as she ran after the great dane.

    The poor young man who sat below the tree looked up a moment too late as he was barreled into by the slobbering pooch. He coughed as the dog placed its tongue all over him, covering him in drool. He wiped his face as the dog was abruptly pulled off of him by the very angry looking girl.

    “Bad Dog!” She chided, clicking the chain around his neck, “Honestly I shift hands for five seconds to answer my phone and you book it!” she sighed, holding a hand to the young man while tightly holding the dog’s leash in the other, “Sorry About that Sir.”

    He took her hand, standing upright and dusting off. She blinked in shock as he stood above her, not having expected him to be so tall.

    “It’s fine. He spoke in a deep voice, unbefitting of his thin frame, “I chose a bad spot to study!” he laughed it off, cackling.

    She began to laugh with him, placing her hand on her hip, “Still, I should have had a better grip on him. Sorry about it.”

    “No one but the bacteria on my face got hurt, so I don’t see any need to apologize.” he cracked his back stretching, “I needed to get up for class anyway.” he checked his watch, “I have a lecture in about 20 minutes. Perfect time to get a coffee.” 

    “How About I treat you?” She offered, “Since he did take your kisses.” She snickered a bit. She brushed a loose strand of black hair behind her ear. 

    He thought about it for a moment. Vanessa wouldn’t mind, right? It was just a coffee as an apology? 

He sighed, “yeah sure.” he grinned, “Anything for bean water.”

“Rad.” She smiled, sharp teeth peeking when she did, “Lead the way!” She laughed.

He grabbed his backpack from the grass, shoving his open books into it and began to walk towards the west of the park, “There’s a nice cafe this way owned by a lovely screaming couple. Dead bird Cafe.” he explained as they walked, “one of the owners is this older gentleman who’s always screaming, but he makes the best dark roast ever.” he grinned.

“Dead bird Cafe,” she repeated thinking about it. She snickered, “So that’s how it is.” She giggled brushing her thick hair behind her ear only to have it bush back. She groaned, “I need a haircut.”

“I feel you on that.” He laughed loudly, brushing his own back, “My girlfriend likes my hair long though so I leave it.” he sighed, “Long curly hair on a legal defendant doesn’t look good. I feel I look so unkempt.”

“If you want unkempt try having these cowlicks!” she chuckled as she ran a finger through the shorter parts of her hair, “At least yours looks on length! I can’t get mine to grow more than a weird mullet!” She sighed heavily, the dog she was walking barking his two cents. The two laughed as they made it to the western disco cafe. 

She paused outside, trying to withhold a laugh, “What is this decor?!” She was holding her stomach as she laughed, bright blue eyes watering.

“Yes it…. It is a little. Different.” he admitted opening the door, “Let me see if your dog can come in.” He headed inside, “Conrad?” he asked as he walked in, “DJ?” 

“Aye if it ain't the bean pole! What canne aye getcha today?” the golden-haired man asked as he was wiping out a cup. He sat behind the counter, looking out the door. The young woman was busy talking on her phone, seeming visibly upset over something. “Who’s the lassie? You finally cut it off with Vanessa?”

He shook his head, “No, NO! Perish the thought Conrad!” he chuckled, “Her dog tackled me in the park, she offered to pay for my coffee as an apology, but we can’t just tie a great dane who got loose once outside. I couldn’t recall if you’re pet friendly.”

He frowned, “Well technically we’re nawt. But we only opened a lil bit ago so no one is here yet, so.” He shrugged, “As the owner I say fine.” He laughed, “You can go tell her, Arulius.”

“Thanks!” he waved heading to the door, “He said it’s okay.” He tilted his head as she was frowning, creasing her brow heavily, “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” She blinked, snapping back, “Oh yeah I’m fine! My brother was just being really annoying!” she admitted, “Apparently he found something I have to go look at when he gets out of class.” She dropped her shoulders defeated, “Today was MEANT to be a relaxing day.”

“I get you.” he patted the top of her head. His eyes lit up surprised, “Your hair is very soft!” He stated. He had it to be coarser.

She turned a bit red, “O-Oi!” She pushed past through the coffee shop door, “It’s because I just dyed it! The conditioner makes it softer!” she flushed bright red, “G-Get your bean water!” She pointed to the menu looking it over.

He followed her back inside with a very loud laugh. She jolted as he cackled, her grip tightening on the dog. Her eyes were wide as she thought about it and covered her face, “Ah. So. you.” she was mumbling and he couldn’t figure her last words.

“Hrm?” he tilted his head, “Conrad I’d like my usual please, extra-large.” He ordered.

“Aye Figured.” the old man laughed, the sound similar bird cawing, “An’ for ya lassie?”

“Oh, Um.” she was scrutinizing the board, “I.. Actually don’t know.” she admitted, “I don’t drink coffee so I don’t know what’s good. I don’t like Bitter.”

“What about a cafe latte then?” Arulius offered, “it has a lot of milk and creamer in it so it’s sweeter than a normal coffee.”

“Is that so..” she mused as she tugged on the dogs lead, “Okay!” she smiled. He hadn’t imagined it earlier. He couldn’t help noticing her canines were very oversized.

“So a Death Macchiato and a Cafe Latte.” The older gentleman hopped off his bar stool. He barely stood taller than the counter. 

“Don’t!” Arulius warned seeing her eyes go wide. He stood in front of her to whisper, “Do not laugh! He’ll put SALT in your drink!”

She was doing her best to not laugh, “I won’t, I won’t!” her voice cracked as she whispered. She covered her mouth in her hands.

“You are doing a bad job!” he snickered at her.

“I Know!” she wheezed and leaned against his back, “I wasn’t prepared! Ahh.” she sighed, taking a deep breath, “I’m cool, it’s cool!” she grinned widely showing off those odd teeth, “See It’s cool!”

“Well if ye are cool the coffee is hot.” The man put the two cups on the counter, steam rising off of them, “Drink up, it’ll be 12.50 pons lassie!”

“Oh good, it is still pons.” She sighed relieved as she pulled out her wallet and paid for the drinks. She took hers and handed off the other, “Cheers.” she smirked. She patted the dog’s head. 

They tapped their cups together, taking a  sip as they exited the establishment. Yup that was a Death Macchiato. He sighed happily intaking the illegal amount of pure espresso and a hint of cream with a sigh of relief, “Ah I live.”

“Do you?” she asked with a cheeky grin. She sipped on her own, “I don’t hate it. But coffee is still too bitter.”

“You think so?” he asked as they walked towards the campus. He froze, “Are you going here too?” he asked worriedly.

“No, I’m just meeting my brother.” She admitted, “He works here.” she shrugged, “he won’t get out for a bit, so I was just going to finish walking Damion and return him to his owner.”

“Oh, it’s not your dog?” He blinked at her, he was sure it was.

“Nope! I just walk him for his owner.” She gave another shrug, “I have to earn money somehow and it’s hard when you didn’t finish High School and have no trade skills.”

“Why not get your GED or something?” he pondered as they headed towards the history building, “are you following me the whole way?”

“Why not?” she asked with a sly grin, “Actually, I just don’t..” she paused thinking about the next choice of words, “don’t have time for it.”

“But you can dog walk, and escort a student to class?” he raised a brow.

“One day off does not make for a full set of classes.” she pointed out, “And I’m not worried, I mostly do this because I enjoy it.”

Standing on the building's edge she gave him a small bow, “have a good time in class, Arulius!” She grinned, turning heel and running off in her bright blue sneakers, the dog keeping pace as they vanished before he could respond.

He sighed waving and headed inside, setting his books down he froze. 

He never told her his name.

-----

“Good work today class!” the teacher clapped his hands together, he wheeled around the classroom, picking up the students papers. “Remember Thursday is a test day! Time waits for no one, so please make sure to study!” he laughed as he rolled up to Arulius’s desk, “As for you, I know you are trying to succeed, but please when I say 6-10 pages, I only mean 10 max.” he  grabbed the hefty stack from the desk, “Also when will you start typing your reports, Mr. law?”

“When Vanessa gives my laptop back?” he shrugged, rubbing his neck. “Sorry, I just really like writing them out.”

The grey-haired man sighed, tapping the other’s head with the stack, “use the computer lab next time.” the other students filed out of the classroom.

Arulius packed his bag up, pulling his phone out he sighed at all the texts Vanessa had left him. Typing back he shrugged the straps over his shoulder. He started his walk home with a disgruntled sigh. He couldn’t get a single day without her freaking out. What did he have to tell her to make her believe he wasn’t doing anything suspicious. He literally went to class, home, and the cafe. 

He blinked as he watched the girl from that morning scoot by him into the classroom. He almost hadn’t noticed but she smelt heavily of pine as she cut by him.

“Sena!” She shouted as she headed inside with a wide grin, “Ready?” She asked as she stood on the back of his wheelchair, leaning over him.

“Oh more than. I’m getting sore.” he admitted with a laugh, “I know this was your day off but Tim said it was a pretty bad one. Friend was even worried.”

“Yeah. yeah.” she sighed and ruffled her hair. She turned towards the door giving the young man a wave, “Hi Again!”

“Oh. Uh right hi!” he waved back sheepishly as he turned to leave, having felt his face turn red. He couldn’t believe he got caught staring. He sighed looking back. So that was her brother. Weird. He didn’t recall his teacher ever mentioning any family. But then again it was his teacher. He felt his phone go off again. He started to run home with a heavy sigh.

-----

“So. Is it a violet, blue, red, green?” She asked as she closed the classroom door. She looked at her brother with a tilted head.

“Hold on. Let me just.” he pushed up on the wheelchair, his legs dissolving in an almost pixelated fashion as his skin turned light blue. His face rearranging into a more alien state, his head changing shape. He shook his head as he finished shifting and floating around her, “I love teaching but holding a human form gets so tiring. Plus the whole I don’t actually have legs thing.” he grumbled floating around her. He snapped his fingers so his chair folded up vanishing in a mass of red threads.

“Feeling better now you can stretch a little?” She chuckled as she raised her hand to reach into the air. It shimmered as her hand vanished, reappearing holding an hourglass.

“Oh much better. Also what was with you and Mr. Law?” he raised his brow curiously as he took the hourglass from her.

“Oh, Arulius?” She sighed, “The dog I was walking this morning jumped him.” She admitted, “I treated him to coffee as a sorry. You know. He reminded me a lot of that one shadow demon we met years ago.”

“You think so?” He tilted his head this time, clearly a family trait.

“His laughter.” she admitted with a big grin, “Also I totally found that old Firespirit! He runs a coffee shop! A far cry from a studio!”

“Well, that does happen when you jump dimensions as often as we do. Somethings get mixed around.” he shrugged as he flipped the glass, red threads around it as he did. “Though I highly doubt that Mr. Law is the Snatcher…” he frowned, “Actually, no. You may be right.” he sighed, “well let’s hope he meets a better fate here.”

“You going to steal his corpse?” She teased as she reached out a blue flame covering the red threads.

“You steal a prince’s body once and you never live it down!” he wheezed. “Almost got it!” he held his hands up, “Alright! I think we’re good for a jump!”

“Onward!” She grinned as she took the hourglass back and flipped it around, the air shifting as things began to rewind, the two of them standing still as folks moved around them as if in a movie.

“How far back?” She asked as she held the glass steady.

“About a day and OH!” he stopped her, the rift shimmering as they paused the world around them by turning the glass on its side. “There it is!” He pointed towards a shimmering crimson toned orb that floated above the students in the classroom.

“Oh booo. I hate red rifts.” She huffed as she got up on a desk reaching out.

“Wait Eclipse!” Sena shouted but it was too late, her foot brushed Arulius’s face as he sat at his desk righting. He blinked looking around confused. The trio was pulled into the orb with a fizzing noise. The world resumed without them.

----

“Uh...Uhh..” Arulius looked around as they stood on the ceiling in a rocky temple.

Eclipse was holding her head ashamed while he looked around. He winced as he felt blood from his nose, leaking down his face towards his mouth despite the way they stood.

“How do I explain this to Tim?!” she fretted as she held her head in her hands, “Sena! What do we do?!” she gasped.

The demon was looking around, inspecting the stonework, “Nothing can be done right now. We need to locate what caused this rift, be it a timepiece or something else. Since it’s a red one, that means there could be an escaped horizon lurker.”

“Sena! I think this is a little more pressing! Oh no.” She saw his nose bleeding and reached to wipe it, “Damnit.” she groaned, “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m just.” He was trying to figure what was going on. His head was pounding and his stomach lurched, “urp.” he covered his mouth with his hands as he paled trying to keep his lunch down.

A loud roar filled the air and she groaned, “Damnit. It is a Horizon lurker. Sena.” she held her hand out.

“Right.” the demon reached and grabbed the threads that materialized around his fingers and a golden halberd with a star theme formed from the threads. She took it and looked at the poor law student.

“Sena why don’t you stay with him. I’ll go get the timepiece.” she looked at him apologetically, “Sorry about this, Ru. I promise it’ll be like a bad dream when this is over!”  She jumped from the ceiling landing on the ground and running off.

He could only stare in shock as he fell to his knees. He paused, “Sena…” he looked at the demon who was holding his hands and fretting, “Mr. Nightingale?” he asked quietly.

“Yes Um hello.” he waved with a low chuckle. He laced his fingers together and took human form, however he was standing upright as he rubbed his neck annoyed, “look this is just as weird for me!” he sighed heavily, “Dear Mother Moon. That girl I swear is always a wreck no matter which dimension I find her.” he grimaced and looked down, “We can make you forget this ever happened so don’t fret so much. Think of it like.” he waved his scarred hands around looking for the words, “well as Ammy said, a bad dream.”

“Ammy?” Arulius stared even more confused.

“Oh um. It’s my nickname for Eclipse.” the demon scratched his cheek and sat down beside the law student as he thought about the matter, “I should have activated the rift but she was so hurried. I know she has a quota to make but.” he stopped hearing a roar and a loud whooping noise, “seems she found the lurker.” he leaned on his hand and rapped his fingers on the stonework nervously, “please let her handle it without injury.” he begged.

Arulius stared, “what are you exactly?” he reached a hand to touch the smooth surface of the demon’s head.