#....I should probably do like three answers a day now but two is easiest for me ;;

[ridiasfangirlings]

i think by the time u answer this itll be close to/maybe later but happy birthdayy

yata having to do practical work for scepter 4 as an exchange thing and fushimi is forbidden to provoke a fight so he follows him around giving "constructive criticism"

Thank you for the late/early birthday wish (is my backlog that bad ;; Sorry for the long waits everyone). Imagine this like post-ROK, Munakata gets the genius idea that wouldn’t it be nice if the Red and Blue clans switched some members for a week, in order to ‘better understand each other and facilitate improved teamwork.’ Kusanagi is hesitant about this but some of the Homra alphabet have been extra rowdy lately and he has to admit the idea of having some of the more mature S4 members around to help him out is tempting. As it happens while Kusanagi is considering the request Yata accidentally scuffs the bar counter while trying to show off a skateboard trick for Anna inside the bar, and guess who just got himself a vacation at S4 for a week. 

Yata is not happy at being forced to work for the stupid stuffy Blues for a week but Kusanagi tells him it’ll be good for him, and is firm that Yata had better not cause trouble. Yata’s all it’s not my fault if those guys provoke me and Anna comes over and holds his hand, saying she knows Misaki will be helpful. Now that he has Anna’s expectations over him Yata can’t act up, Kusanagi’s warning doesn’t have half the power of Anna’s simple trust and Yata has to live up to it. He still adds that if Fushimi starts something he’s not responsible though, luckily Awashima was also aware of this and has made it clear to Fushimi that he’s expected to behave and not get into fights with Yata Misaki. Fushimi clicks his tongue and says if Misaki starts it and Awashima just gives him a cold look as she’s like there will be no fighting.

So Yata gets to S4 and Awashima immediately starts assigning him tasks, imagine poor Yata’s head spinning as she gives him paperwork to copy and take this book back to the library and please deliver this message. Seeing that Yata is overwhelmed she decides someone will need to help him and of course Fushimi happens to be right there. Yata thinks he’s saved until Fushimi gives this big shit-eating grin and says he will be happy to observe Misaki, to be sure that Yata does everything right. Yata’s all the fuck you’re just observing, help me, and Fushimi’s all tsk tsk Misaki this exchange is supposed to show you how things are at S4, if I help you won’t learn anything. Yata grumbles a curse under his breath and picks up the enormous stack of documents while Fushimi follows easily after him, telling him not to bend the papers. 

Somehow despite presumably having his own work to do Fushimi finds time to follow Yata around for the rest of the day, claiming he is ‘supervising an untrustworthy newbie.’ Yata’s all supervising my ass (well Fushimi’s probably doing that too), you’re just bothering me. Fushimi says he wouldn’t dream of it, he’s giving Yata valuable advice. Yata’s like you’ve just been nitpicking me all this time, Fushimi denies it and says he’s helping Yata become a more worthwhile employee. Yata grumbles that he doesn’t intend to become a useless bureaucrat so he doesn’t need help, Fushimi points out that Yata just copied a stack of fifty papers upside down. Yata swears like you couldn’t have told me that before I did all this copying, Fushimi says learning from mistakes is an important part of teaching. 

Yata’s about to break his promise not to fight when suddenly Munakata just pops up between them, so pleased that Fushimi-kun is taking to teaching this way. Fushimi clicks his tongue and mutters ‘I guess,’ trying to get Munakata to leave, but Munakata feels this is a splendid teachable moment and invites them both into his office to discuss. Two hours later they finally manage to escape, both exhausted from the lecture and Yata’s like Saru your King is so weird. Fushimi’s like don’t think I don’t know that, Yata sighs and asks if Fushimi wants to go get lunch together. Fushimi pauses and then nods with a slight smile. Yata grins and is like all right, lead me to the cafeteria, and Fushimi can’t help but add that after lunch he’ll need to get back to supervising Yata.

[jame7t]

do you know what to do with all these molted cicada nymph shells

Sure, they're not dead, but they still give off the same vibe to me. You know? The empty casings of a spent thing? Dust gathering in the recesses where something used to be? Sure, they're not dead, but they still set off my Necroentomophobia. Fear of dead bugs! Did you know that? Did you know people could be scared of dead bugs? Whatever. It's not the same as being scared of a bug, sure. But I can be scared of a lot of bugs. Sure, little things, like the humble lady bug- not scary. Butterflies, scant as they are, are only off-putting to me. The beautiful moth? Well, I love it, but I don't want to hurt it. It's whimsical, fat body makes me nervous. I don't want to squish it by accident! Because then it would be a dead bug.

And that's worse. It's like, not precisely a direct fear of a dead bug. It won't leap at me in a defiant rage, or be waiting for me around the scary corner. It's more like a shortcut to existential dread. It's a combination of 'ew!' and 'I am going to die one day' and more importantly, if a bug is dead, something has killed it. And you never know if that something is still lurking around. Just kidding. Do you know what a cicada shell is made of? That's right. It's the happy chitin! I don't have an issue with chitin. We're not chitinous beasts, but we have the enzymes to break them down. Humans, that is. This isn't a science fiction piece. This is my blog. I've always thought chitin was interesting though- it's a natural armor made for little guys ostensibly. Little guys in the sense, that it is for bugs only. Well, crabs have chitin, and they can get pretty big- The spider crab can grow over 300 feet in diameter. Just kidding, it can't do that. It's pretty big though. At this point, you'd think: 'Okay- crab reference, and a direct link to the enzymes to break down chitin. Do we eat them? Should we eat the Cicada shells?' Well, I'm not going to. That sounds kind of scary to me. Would you? Would you eat the shell of a thing? I can't imagine it tastes good. I'm eating potato chips right now. They're yummy, and crunchy, and in many ways- the opposite of the humble cicada's false corpse. A lying bug. A lying, cheating, swarming thing. A bug we don't like. A bug we have to deal with. Don't we have to deal with everything? Would it be easier to show less mercy to the little things? It wouldn't, and it would be mean. And that's worse. Anyway, to answer your question, you turn them into mulch, apparently. Or bury them in a hole. Through my research, those were the only two real options we have. There's also 'add them to compost.' So that's three, you have three options. Do you want my opinion? No? Moving on then. There's also a fourth option- a telling one, at that. A sort of 'secret option' lots of people choose. 'Let them decompose on your lawn.' Right? Right, the easy one? Might as well call it 'do nothing.' Doing nothing is always a choice, sure, but when you give me the choice to 'do nothing' in a game, or choose your own adventure, it always seems like a lazy choice on the developer's part. And sure, from your real life perspective, it's probably the easiest. But from a game design perspective? You have to account for the player sitting and watching. What happens if I don't intervene? What happens if I let it continue? Well, in the case of the empty cicada, they stink apparently. I've never noticed it, and we have cicadas here- but I've been lucky enough to never be out in or see a swarm. A predecessor of mine once recalled a story in which the swarm was so bad, you couldn't walk outside without crushing them on the sidewalks "Ew," is what I thought. Maybe they only smell if there's hundreds of them. Thousands? No, probably just hundreds. Not saying they wouldn't smell more if there were lots, I'm saying they probably start being noticeable at around a hundred. Nothing wrong with that. Not sure what the smell is, though. Do you? You should put them in a hole.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 14 - Revive

Previous bits here

It’s genuinely becoming a concern as to whether there are enough good words beginning with Re to get them through this… but they will, I promise.

💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙

It was an unfortunate but inevitable side effect of their occupation: Every Tracy had spent far too much time waiting by the bedside of a brother, willing them to open their eyes and say something to prove they would be ok. Scott, due to being able to thrive perfectly well for several days on catnapping alone, probably held the record. Virgil likely came a close second, although he was much more adept at snoozing heavily while he waited.

Scott kept vigil as always.

This time, though, it felt different. The longing to see his brother’s eyes peer up at him had never been tinged with dread before. He had never been afraid of what would happen when a brother awoke before. Of what a newly awoken brother might say. That… was new.

John waited too. Aside from chivvying each other to visit the toilet occasionally, neither were keen to leave each other’s presence, or Virgil’s. The others wouldn’t return with Grandma for a couple of hours yet, and Kayo was working with Brains on a better failsafe for Shadow and the other birds. For now, it was just the three of them.

The sedative had been wearing off slowly. Really, really, really slowly.

Agonisingly slowly.

There were two signs - the occasional bumps in heart rate were the easiest to track and John monitored these with his usual precision, occasionally passing a quiet comment as to the length and volume of the spikes.

Scott was more focussed on the other - the tiniest of movements in Virgil’s hands which had been lying limp on top of the covers, and which Scott had gently arranged and rearranged to try to find the most natural position for muscles and ligaments to rest in. He watched and waited and pondered whether he should move his brother’s right thumb a little to the left - was the hand too curled up, or was it meant to be that way? He was aware that there were probably much bigger issues at play right now but he didn’t want his brother to end up with aches that might hinder his playing or drawing. And this… this he could do something about.

He sighed and adjusted the thumb minutely, then pretending he hadn’t noticed John pretending not to notice.

It occurred to him that he never really saw Virgil’s hands at rest. His brother was always either tinkering with something, gesticulating expressively as he conversed, or tapping out a rhythm on the biceps of his folded arms… his denim clad thighs… or whatever surface happened to be nearby. Scott’s shoulder was not exempt as a surface but he never mentioned it for fear Virgil would become self-conscious and less inclined to casually throw his arm around his big brother at every opportunity.

Scott could never adequately explain even to himself how much it meant when Virgil did that. Neither could he articulate how when the arm eventually lifted and they went their separate ways, Scott would sometimes feel as he couldn’t be properly warm again until his brother’s arm was back where it belonged… his fingers unconsciously sharing with his big brother whatever pulse had captured his soul at that moment.

As children it was always Scott’s inability to stay put that people noticed: ‘If only you could stay still like your brother, look he’s sitting so nicely.’ Even then Scott knew, as had their Mom, that they weren’t so very different. Scott’s need to move was expressed on the macro plane, Virgil’s was no less insistent but hidden from the inattentive on the micro level.

And so Scott waited and watched for the familiar movement to return. John’s comm pulsed and he stepped out of the room to answer the call.

A stronger twitch of the fingers was accompanied by the slightest hint of tension in Virgil’s jaw. Scott reached out and placed his hand over one of his brother’s, seeking connection with that flicker of life… then picked up his hand and held it close to his chest. He found himself leaning forwards so that he could feel his brother’s breath on his cheek, seeking reassurance that Virgil was in there and would come back to him.

This meant, of course, that Scott’s eardrum was in prime exploding distance when Virgil yelled his name.

“SCOTT!”

The despair in that scream resonated through every cell of his body and Scott couldn’t do anything but wrap his brother in his arms and screw his eyes shut. Ear determinedly ringing, he felt the vibrations of Virgil’s pleading as clearly as he could hear them:

“Don’… pleee!! Sco…. I can’d w’ou… Da… NNN… Scoddy nnnnn…”

Scott hated waking from any kind of sedation - the sensation of being trapped, helpless between worlds, where the nightmares were stronger than reality. What kind of nightmare was Virgil experiencing? Or… Scott felt his throat constrict and buried his face in Virgil’s hair… was it worse than that? Was he, in fact, reliving emotions no brother should ever have to experience even the once?

“Sssshhh I’m here, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m not leaving you Virgil, I promise. I’m here.”

John had come running at the shout and Scott felt rather than saw his presence in the doorway, radiating questions and concern. Scott glanced up and shook his head minutely.

Even that slight movement was too much - Virgil gasped and his fingers tightened in a vice grip around Scott’s biceps, his face pushed hard into his collarbone. Big brother kissed the top of his head and little brother relaxed a little, taking a long breath in through his nose before going limp in Scott’s arms, apparently unconscious again. Scott laid him back gently on to the pillow and gently stroked the hair from Virgil’s damp forehead.

The mattress dipped as John perched carefully on the side of the bed, taking hold of Virgil’s hand and resting his other lightly on Scott’s shoulder. He squeezed gently and Scott placed his free hand on top of John’s.

And they waited.

💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙💚🧡💙

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

To Lady Celestine, from Magopon

Bonjour, I suppose? I don’t really think I know you yet so.. I was wondering, why not do an info exchange with each other I guess. Though I do know about you and Arthur. I do think it’s cute. So my barrage of questions starts now. First question, how did you get to know each other? Second, what is your favorite misadventure? Third, what do you like about Arthur, don’t think that I can’t see you two being lovey dovey. Well, I suppose I should keep my end. Things to know about me: I was the feared (yet cute) ogre of Kitakami. Next, uh let’s see, umm… Oh! I’m with Meta! And um, probably the easiest to provoke within my group I suppose. Well that’s all, I guess. Signing out, Magolor! -Magolor/Ogerpon

Such wonderful questions~

They don't deserve merely simple answers, how about a story instead

Truth be told my acts of vigilantism weren't for the fame or the glory... it was to atone what had happened to Shiver Star. Had I not told Absolum & Uther my vision...

Shiver Star wouldn't have had an... even worse fate than I had originally seen... Then I started to question everything... I had come to find out that all my visions of warning were ignored (by other Heroes of Yore & the Ancients) unless there was a benefit to them.

They didn't care about people who suffered from their acts, unlike them, I could see them... I could feel their pain too... I couldn't help but think that I had made everyone's life worse...

Until one day I just had enough.... I was done crying over my mistakes... I had to do something!

So the moment Triple Star was created I vowed I'd make up for all the damage I did with my visions. I'd "my future sight" to hunt down Nightmares monsters before they'd even had the chance to do any harm. I'd use my magic & alchemy to fix all the damage the GSA did to civilian planets.

(Basically, she did the same thing of what Edward did here but in secret)

But I will admit I did have my own little fun when I was out there as well...played a practical joke here or there swindled some swindlers... unleashed a hoard of flying pigs every time I played a prank but you get the idea.

My actions did go unnoticed... people could tell that someone in the night was fixing their homes & cities. Someone was taking out the monster even before Uther's soldiers (and Sir Uther didn't like that.) All they knew was a mysterious old mage wearing a blue cloak was helping them.

The people were starting to rely on me... I didn't want that to happen.

I wanted to stay anonymous but with how things were going to be difficult to hide myself for very long... there was another problem I was not long for the world

But that was around when I got Kirby's prediction.

There was a glimmer of hope left in the galaxy... Nightmare terror against the galaxy would end along with the Ancients & Uther's reign would end however there was a catch...

For those of you who haven't read (The Wart of Them All)

My visions were vague in nature but this one carried the most uncertainty.... I had no idea what wild goose chase this vision was leading me on... especially after I saw all my options...

I just needed to find the match; it didn't tell me how they fit into Kirby's prediction, nor what role they played in all this. But I did know this... I WAS NOT GOING TO MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE AGAIN AND TRUST ANYONE WITH MY KNOWLEDGE!

I needed to exhaust every avenue and be sure I was making the right choice... So I had to reveal myself to them as "Merlyn."

Actually, I didn't name myself Merlyn just yet... that'll have to come up in the next part.

To be continued~

Prev. ((The Wart of Them All) -

Next. ("The Start of Something Great")

@kirbyoctournament

Shoutout to @poyoofthestars Thank you so much for giving me such a great question it gives me all the power to lore dump!

I know what it looks like I did this on purpose: (For you those of you who aren't familiar with the Pokemon games: at the start of your journey you are given three choices as you're starter )

Basically, what Celestine was doing was choosing "the right starter Pokemon... to kick start Kirby's journey." But the main difference is that if she chooses the wrong one the galaxy is royally screwed! OUR GIRL WAS UNDER A LOT OF PRESSURE

Also, another fun lore dump Celestine never actually called herself Merlyn... it was actually Arthur who accidentally named her Merlyn.

Hope you guys enjoyed it see you in the next part.

[jelzorz]

155.

@cakeanon is claiming that jellybug was named for me and I'm owning it

Barius has, probably, the easiest go of it. The rest of the council is made up of Ezran's closest friends and family, and they go out and about on their adventures, risking their lives and their limbs for the good of the kingdom on a somewhat regular basis, and though he and Opeli are the ones who stay and hold the fort, Opeli just has more on her plate (in a manner of speaking).

Barius' official title is a bit of fun: Minister of Crusts and Jellies doesn't imply much, but in truth, he's really more of a head of staff. He manages the maids, the kitchenhands, the cleaners, the groceries, the wine, the harvests, the hearths—and though it sounds like a lot, he is not, in anyway, in over his head. It's not like Soren, who is Captain of the Crown Guard and adventurer, or Corvus, who is Crown Guard and reconnaissance, or Opeli, who is High Cleric and regent and babysitter all at once. Barius' job is simple: keep the castle running, make sure meals go out on time, give the kids someplace warm to come home to after all their heroing and adventuring.

It's a good amount of work. It keeps him busy. Most days, he rather likes it—

And then the kids come home from their latest adventure with the shining prison of the most dangerous elf who has ever lived and three baby glow toads in tow.

(If you asked Barius which of those was more menacing, Barius' answer would very much depend on the day).

He will be honest: His hands were full in the old days, when all he had to do was bake and chase Ezran and Bait out of the kitchens. He is busier now, and that isn't counting Ezran, Bait, and the three little baitlings who keep finding their way into the stores. The little orange one is the worst. The blue one, Hat, he thinks, is well named—he lives happily on Soren's head and doesn't cause too much trouble. Sneezles, the runt, is always congested, always clingy, not too much of a hazard in the kitchens except for the handful of times he's sneezed into a whole bag of flour. But Jellybug—

Barius groans at the thought of her. She's got a bigger sweet tooth than even Ezran had when he was younger, and Barius has had to increase his jelly and jam production two fold just to keep up with her.

"She'll bankrupt us if she's not stopped," he complains to Opeli. "The harvests won't be enough to keep up with her."

"That's a little overdramatic, I think," says Opeli, although from the way she wrinkles her nose, Barius knows he isn't wrong to be concerned. "I don't think you could convince His Majesty to get rid of her, though."

"I wondered if you might talk to him, actually." Barius shuffles his feet. "You hold sway over them all."

"So do you," says Opeli. "You are King Ezran's Minister of Crusts and Jellies, Barius, your concerns are valid and Ezran will hear them."

It's not a of lot reassurance, but it's better than none. Barius steels himself for it, knowing he's never been good at keeping Ezran out of the kitchens, and that Ezran is a boy before he is a king, and it seems unfair that he should be deprived of the few childish things he allows himself.

Then Jellybug herself appears in the kitchens one evening, blue eyes wide and unreasonably large, chin covered in jelly as always, and Barius huffs tiredly and plucks her from the bench.

"You can't be in here if you're going to eat our stores," he scolds. "That jelly isn't for you."

Jellybug trills happily, obviously unaware of what Barius means to ask Ezran. She nuzzles against his fingers, smearing purple jelly—grape?—against his palm.

"Don't even try it," says Barius sternly. "I'm not falling for that. You're still a menace."

Jellybug squeaks and lolls her tongue out at him.

Barius humphs.

The next morning, he heads into the council chambers with an open jar of jam in one of his apron pockets and Jellybug in the other. When Ezran spots him, he grins.

"Barius!" he greets. "Opeli said you wanted to talk? Is everything okay?"

Barius snorts and glances down at the Baitling in his pocket. "Yes, Your Majesty," he says. "Everything's fine."

[starlightswitch]

How Many Days

@flashfictionfridayofficial I also like to figure things out and like having a good reason for things (and sometimes the "good" reason is just math).

“Did you know some cultures give a gift when you’ve been together 100 days?”

“Together?” said Sonya, looking up from her computer.

“Like a couple. When you’ve been in a relationship for 100 days.”

Well, that seemed obvious now. But the comment had come out of nowhere just after the dorm room door had shut behind her roommate. “Where’d you learn that?” she said. From what she knew so far she didn’t think Rebecca was into random facts.

Rebecca put her hands on the bed and hopped backward onto it. “A guy in one of my classes asked me for advice on what to get his girlfriend,” she said. “He’s Korean I think? He said it was for their hundred days so it must be a thing.” She laughed. “I wonder what Luke would have gotten me for our hundred days? He probably would have been asking for tips too.”

Of course Rebecca had a boyfriend she’d started dating in high school. Sonya could have gotten a roommate who didn’t have a boyfriend and didn’t want one, or one who didn’t have one and did want one, or one who’d also broken up with someone at the end of senior year and knew she should move on but didn’t know if she was ready to—and instead her random roommate had a boyfriend and was happy with him and Sonya had to hear her talk about him.

Well, she didn’t have to. She could have told Rebecca about the breakup and asked her not to talk about her boyfriend. But that didn’t seem very friendly, and she didn’t really want to talk about the breakup. It was sort of tragically comforting that no one she talked to in this city knew about the relationship at all.

“How many days have you and Luke been together?” she asked, sitting up a little. Her lower back was starting to hurt from being curled against the wall.

“I don’t know,” said Rebecca, not uninterested but not going on to do the math.

“Over 365, right? More than a year?”

“Yeah, March of junior year. The 31st.”

Sonya opened a new Excel page on her computer and started typing in numbers of days: 30 for April, 31 for May, 30 for June. She remembered quickly that she could have just typed in the dates and had Excel subtract them, but counting seemed more fun—it built the suspense. “Yeah, 100 would be last July,” she said. “200 was last October. 500 was last month. You’re almost at 550.”

“That’s a lot of days,” Rebecca said contentedly. “How many is 1000 days?” She grinned. “I should tell Luke I want something fantastic for 1000 days. Start planning now. We could go on a trip. That would be like senior year, right?”

Sonya typed in the equation. “Two and three quarters. This spring is one year, next spring is two, so it’s like winter break next year. Tell him you want a fantastic trip over break.” It was weird she’d sounded so casual, she realized after she said it. She’d felt so casual. She’d actually forgotten for a minute to be jealous of Rebecca having a boyfriend to plan a trip with.

But now that she was thinking about it again, she wondered how many days she and Brandon had been together. More than 100. Less than 300. The easiest way to stop thinking about it would be to answer the question, so she deleted up to September from her list of months and worked from there. A little over 200 days. Which made her wonder…

She added more months, and found when she would have been broken up with Brandon longer than they’d been together. November.

She could be ready to move on by then, she thought. "You've been broken up longer than you were together" felt like a good reason to be ready to move on.

[t-oppenheimer]

Athlete, Compression, The Physical Split.

So begins the implicit critique of a popular system: What exactly constitutes physical acumen? That is a philosophical question which must be raised whenever we reproduce this trope of Strength, Dexterity and Constitution. Do humans, as they grow and train out, grow hardier and more pain tolerant without endurance and flexibility to match? I would hope that every time someone weight trains they do stretches beforehand and eat bulk carbs and protiens afterward. And while there are people with strength who lack fine motor function and the other way around, these two things are gained in tandem with experience and one is typically only lost in traumatic, disabling events.

So why have these? It's not for the monsters sake-- for although there is something to be criticized with the 'half-assedness' of symmetrical design when it comes to monsters (all player stats but meaningless equipment, level and arbitrary actions) these splits also reveal frustrations. Should amorphous creatures such as the Gray Ooze be infinitely dexterous (they are able to squeeze and bend and flex with little restriction) or not dexterous at all, for having only 'pseudopods' which lack nuanced control at all? According to WotC, the answer is 'mediocre dexterity' because the only time it ever comes up in actual play is "a fireball has been placed on top of me, despite having no where to go and not moving away from it at all would I be able to contort my body so as to diminish the damage I take from it?". Here of course, it having a '6' is literally just space being taken up for a worthless symmetry, the "-2" is what is relevant.

Pathfinder has tried to touch on this in some ways. My favorite example is the Armor Training trait exclusive to the Fighter class: this gives that character an incentive to maintain all three physical stats to emulate "the peak of physical acumen" by allowing dexterity an increasing benefit to one's strength build as they level up. One could even find a narrative springing from this unique aspect: The whelp who was once a mere town guard who knew how to keep a spear level at their waist and little else grows to find that the rigidity of their training and equipment maintenance proves more a hindrance than a boon. As they begin leveling, they tinker (or have someone else in the party) tinker and modify their equipment to work in ways only that fighter can use, and soon their plate armor isn't just any plate armor, but theirs, with the lion codpiece whose teeth functions for blade catching.

But that is that game and I am to discuss my game. Poison and disease is not a major element of the game, so Constitution is rendered almost completely vestigial. Strength does seem to be an objective thing (there is a difference between being able to dead-lift twenty pounds, two hundred pounds and four hundred pounds) but what justifies Dexterity? After sitting with it for a very long time: too much.

Dexterity controls how well one points a bow, swings a thin bladed weapon, picks a lock, sneaks across a hall and flies in the air? Preposterous. Especially in WotC's most recent products in which strength no longer holds the domain of weapon damage and modifications to your Constitution score no longer directly alters your maximum health value, Dexterity controls a disproportionate amount of the character's total acuity. This stat needs to be broken down.

The easiest angle to go about that would probably be to split fine motor control from gross motor control (you don't hear that one every day!). The strength and coordination of your arms, legs and back can be trained wholly separately from your dexterity between your fingers and... yeah, mostly your fingers. Now hands are central to the human experience so that's okay: the actual problem is likely our imagined "body" stat has is that it is almost exclusively about sports and sports related mobility. Acrobatics, maybe throwing and run speed?

Here, we can connect our "Body" stat to what remains as "Strength" because, as established before, these two seem to be trained in tandem such that there is no meaning distinguishing them. This is the summary of an "Athlete" and thus we have the final result of that thinking. But now fine motor control is only compared against directly, and has no control over secondary stats, the way Athlete determines AC.

Does anyone still have their 2014 5e DMG lying around? You might remember in the proposed "New Ability Scores" that no one ever adopted at any table. I kid, but what I say is not far off from the truth, for nothing else in the game supported either option, all implementation was by facilitator decree. If there is ever one singular sin of the most recent edition of Dungeons and Dragons, its enshrining their facilitating players to 'kinda wing it' as-- even more than a replacement-- the cornerstone of game design. In that ignored section is the ignored concept of a 'sanity' ability score which unlike the honor score is designed to support a theme plainly impossible with the game's progression. If I was an ninth level wizard and a cosmic horror tried to grab me, I'd simply teleport.

I do share the boilerplate objection to 'sanity' mechanics: tying mental health into a binary 'are you fucked up or Normal™?' is not representative of a very serious phenomenon which touches too many people to treat so lightly. Remember the tone of my game: satrical and brutal. What if instead of the Lovecraftian horror situation where you see exactly one (1) biracial person and go "WHAT THE WHAT?!?!?!?! BLBLBLBBL PFFFFFF KOOKOO; KOOKOO-- POLLY WANNA CRACKER" we went in the total other direction. A character who just loses their nerve and says "In this situation, I would fold." Throws their hands up in frustration, or decides this struggle isn't worth it and walks out of the door. It's not that you lose what you once had in a fit of irrationality, but in light of what you just witnessed you suddenly gain rationality and reconsider the stakes you actually have in this. If we maintain this 'nerves' idea, then what is strong nerves and what is weak nerves? One of the first things to go when you are frightened is your control. Fight, flight or freeze, goes the wisdom. When you jump you're liable to throw your pencil in the air, and when you're trembling you can't hold a pencil steady. This is what we tie with fine motor control to create "Precise".

We butchered conventional wisdom to place a new series of mechanics together which is easier to explain and work through while maintaining value for both and simply working. Ah-- but what we did to wisdom, and the other two, is a topic for another post.

[aranarumei]

hi kiri is it cheating to give you both 15 and 19 for all works you feel you could answer this about . for the ask game

ask me questions from this list about my writing!

“all works” i have an insane amount of wips I could probably “feel” I could answer this about. will restrict myself to three main ones on account of choosing deliberate and practiced restraint. that’s still an Amount tho so under the cut as usual

15. in what ways are you challenging yourself with [project], and is there anything specific you want to come out of the work having improved skills in? on the other hand, which aspects are fully in your comfort zone?

projects, huh… let’s start with the sickfic I’m working on, because that’s the easiest. when I wrote the anomalous agate, that was a challenge in many ways: I hadn’t seriously written first person in years, and I was also trying to find a bridge between my style of writing, while also trying to emulate the general feeling of how the case files of jeweler richard is narrated. these days, I feel pretty satisfied with whatever kind of middle ground I achieved… I only regret that seigi doesn’t call richard some version of beautiful with nearly enough frequency as he does in canon.

this time around, the first person of it all is pretty comfortable for me, and I feel like I’m more comfortable with the fact that my narration doesn’t sound exactly like the novels. what I’m challenging myself with is… I’m pretty good at bashing out a solitary scene, but my completion rate for fics, and writing in general, is like… distressing. You don’t realize how untrained you are in terms of actually chaining together events and concluding things, until you realize that you’ve finished your first multichaptered fic in 2024. to be clear, I would say I’ve been writing seriously as a hobby for a bit over 10 years at this point. I also have not really written a sickfic before. so, even though this fic is shorter than the other two projects, it’s still a bit of a challenge for me to string together a chain of events that will lead into a satisfying conclusion. I also find that sickness is a thing that’s hard to describe in a way that doesn’t get stale.

nonetheless, I’m comfortable with a lot of this—I feel like I get both seigi and richard well enough to execute this, I actually did outline a chain of events, so I know where it starts and where it ends. I know the kind of themes I’m working with, and what I want to say within this fic. and I think I’m pretty damn good at creating an aura of tenderness and intimacy, which feels like a big sickfic thing. worst comes to worst, the first scene can stand on it’s own, so I’ll just post that if I really can’t write the rest.

outcome-wise, I'd like to just get this fic to a state where I can publish it and reread it happily. then I can finally read the next volume of the case files of jeweler richard lol

for cross-examination, my challenge is finishing the damn thing. that’ll be a theme for literally everything. I’m so bad at it, it’s catastrophic. I have an outline for the third chapter. I’ve had that outline for a year. I just can’t write it, somehow. it’s also written in present tense… I used to write in past tense, and then did present tense for a long time, and then I switched back into past tense, and this now means that I can have trouble sticking to a specific tense sometimes. so an issue is whenever I return to this fic, I have to try to get myself back into the swing of writing present tense.

other challenges… I kind of feel like I wrote this fic without really investigating the characters? like, I know them well enough, and I don’t think anything is necessarily wrong about my characterization, but I wasn’t building in-depth profiles about them in the way that I do with some characters now. really the toughest part of this fic is returning to something I feel like should have been completed a long time ago… I still have affection towards the concept, and the fact that there’s a full 3k written of the final chapter means I am dedicated to finishing it.

this comes up with the last fic, too, but this fic also has me have to outline progression in a relationship, from like… apollo and klavier at the end of aa4, into a place where they can actually be dating, and that took a bit of planning at first. it’s hard to find the line of how to pace things in a way where the growth feels real, and it feels like they get together naturally. there’s kind of two definitions of slow burn to me: one where they want each other desperately and the fic is just kind of edging that tension until it breaks, and one where it’s a gradual development and build up of feelings. I’m good with the first one, where there’s already a level of importance each person affords the other, and just no confession, but the latter is a bit harder. this fic acts as a kind of bridge between both, to me—apollo and klavier find each other quite meaningful, even at the start, but they aren’t really friends, and that’s what has to change.

as for what’s in my comfort zone… it’s a very peaceful and kind of gentle tone that the whole fic takes. I’ve been told I’m quite good at maintaining that kind of feeling, where it’s not like it’s saccharinely sweet, but nothing is particularly full of melodrama.

outcome-wise, I want to have it published and done so it doesn't haunt me. there's wips i feel more comfortable leaving behind (i'm just not that person anymore, it feels too flawed to fix) but this is not one of them. and I get out of it another longfic completed, which hopefully trains my skills of like... progression and development.

now, for my jiang cheng fic project (wip title is just aromanticism bc it makes me smile), which I talk about and have complained about for forever… I’ve been working on this fic for so long it’s like… what am I not doing with this fic? seriously, this idea originated in 2021, and like… I work on it on and off, sure, so it’s not like continuous work, but at the very least it’s occupied a good deal of my mind for the last year. I’ve had to rewrite so damn much of it, too…

like cross-examination, this fic tests my ability to write and complete longfic—that meaning, can I string together coherent themes across a large number of scenes? can relationships develop and progress naturally? it centers on jiang cheng and hua cheng, and I’ve tasked myself with taking two strangers into the realm of deep, important friendship. and I want to do all of that while addressing a lot of different resentments that I think jiang cheng feels, and addressing the idea of resentment in general… the value I see in it, and the things I feel that aren’t so great.

It’s very tough because I also haven’t written a fic for the mdzs fandom, well… ever, and I read it the one time like, back in early 2019, and I’ve seen maybe 10 episodes of the show. I think a lot of times, I get too in my head about how my fic interacts with or differs from common sentiments about the characters I’m writing, which is why I don’t read fic for this fandom or interact with that much content nowadays. It’s a really tough fic because I want to do a lot with it, and despite the fact that I’ve had to rewrite a bunch of scenes and scrap some of them entirely (like, at least a good 10k of it’s been deleted… I couldn’t give an exact count as I don’t save that stuff), I can feel myself improving.

The narration for this fic is markedly different—there’s a certain amount of formality/poise I try to imbue the writing with. and I’m trying to see if I can associate certain vibes/descriptors with specific characters, though I haven’t quite worked on that yet. I also push myself into leaving things to be more ambiguous… to let characters be awkward and uncomfortable, and in this case, to write outright conflict. I rarely do this—my fics usually work on tension, but don’t escalate into actual fights. this does. there’s also a lot of worldbuilding involved… I’ve made 4 OCs just for this fic, and not all of them are that important, but there’s just… so much backstory and stuff that I’ve developed and don’t know if it will actually make it into the fic. But it makes everything feel richer, and I’m glad for it.

so, if i had to sum up my challenges, it's probably that it takes quite a bit of detailing and hard work, and I'm not used to sticking through a project so demanding. I think because the fic requires so much, it's also something that needs me to be fully and totally confident in what I'm presenting, and that's something I'm struggling with.

as for what is in my comfort zone, I suppose that even though the description style I’m going with is new, it’s not too demanding, and I always feel comfortable when I write hua cheng. Unlike jiang cheng, who I constantly am debating with myself about (is he canon-accurate? am I projecting too hard? am I representing him as too much of a good guy? does that matter?), hua cheng is a character where I’m like, “nah, I like my interpretation of him fine,” and I just have such a blast writing his dialogue.

outcome-wise, when this fic is published, I want to be proud of the work i did on, again, the progression and development of the themes and character relationships, and I also want to publish it with the intent of kind of never writing an mdzs fic again. I'll get out most, if not all of my feelings about this guy, and then i can just have that to point to.

19. what text/message have you sent about [project] which is most unhinged or incomprehensible out of context?

genuinely i dont send that many unhinged messages. like... i feel like i tend to explain my irritations pretty dryly, and also some of these projects are over years so i dont really have like. a collection of texts. the ones i have saved are usually a long series of texts where i hash out developments, because i need those for reference. so, nothing unhinged, but i thought this one was fun:

and here's a good display of what my texts actually look like:

it's very... rubber duck debugging? that's usually what i do when texting about my writing. i complain a lot and then have to explain what's so hard for me to do and i figure it out that way. that usually helps with outlining. with actual writing though.... thats a motivation / time management problem. i suck at those

edit: literally day i post this ask i get this text exchange:

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Usually wait until I have two chapters but who cares? Break week upcoming and I have feelings about this chapter. Starting with the easiest, nonspoilery one. Not a huge deal, but said something about it last time. The idea that Egghead might be the same island Oden met Toki, which has a lot of cool potential implications. It’s not the signature spotted rafflesia flowers that’d make it obvious, but this shot does show the similar trees we already noted this time with the right type of coconut-looking fruit. So one more point.

There’s some amazing stuff going on in this chapter from the angle we’ve been looking at. Luffy straight-up taunting Lucci so blatantly Zoro’s spelling it out. A certain redhead knocking around with less cool alternate versions of Luffy & Makino. That whole segment offers a lot obviously, but let’s go ahead and wait for 1077 to do em in pairs like we have been. I want to think on it and see our next step, but this chapter pulled the neat little trick of dangling something I was juuuust starting to seriously wonder about. This time, I only want to offer a plausible answer on the table to that finicky question; isn’t it past time to give it up? What on Earth could justify a newbie hanging out in the ship this whole time?

Aww, Shanks has a doofy Grand Fleet who decided they were his underlings too...

This was honestly on the short list of ideas from the start, hell I might have even mentioned the base logic before Wano ended, it’s a layup if you’re pitching an opening for a Quartermaster. Either way, at least back when we were just saying hey...arc could theoretically fit this rough sketch and build around a twist. We’ve done well sticking to that even if it was kinda vague. Vegapunk got the lore dump out of the way early and now this is devolving into chaos all while we’re keeping some of those big cards like X Drake back and still nailing the right themes.

Drifting away though, our goal at the moment is to lay out a hypothetical for how where we’re at on Egghead could be resolved through a quiet new addition working behind the scenes unbeknownst to us the readers. It’s the Fleet. Got 100 Marine ships in bound? Scary, sounds like a good use for Luffy’s ~70 backup ships. You just have to get Kizaru away from them, and him leaping into the fray on Egghead early is the perfect moment to turn the tables. Unfavorable, but not insurmountable odds at a perfect rate to justify the upset through smart command. Especially when you have guys like Orlumbus and Sai who can be your seasoned field marshals familiar with naval combat, it’s really a perfect stage for a Quartermaster who’s bringing social/speech skills. Less naval tactics, more balancing the egos. “Now Cabbage-kun...I’d expect a star to know the value of waiting a little to build tension.”

We have this big Chekov’s Gun loaded, look at what’s possible. Think taking a Gorosei hostage would count as historic proportions? The beauty is how it all just...flows. Luffy’s vivre card probably was going haywire over the past few weeks. Say they trusted Luffy and let it smolder from being thrown in Udon, but when it snuffed out and popped back for the Awakening or whatever decided they should probably move in. That’d give almost two weeks to get in the area, especially with the three days post-Wano. What if they’ve been trying to constantly call for a while now? Snails pick it up as they’re leaving Wano...there you go, that’s a perfectly fine excuse for someone new who gets the value of numbers spending a lot of time for a few days in the hold coordinating. It’s a great way to rapidly get up to speed on the wider world and could end up keeping a bit of mystery on the enemy end. You could even spin it into a killer Tokyo Rose-type vibe.

I feel like that type of propagandist, something like Gen in Dr. Stone, plays absurdly nice with what we’re seeing floating around this story. Don’t tell me it wouldn’t suit that little drama queen more than swinging a sword.

[talkorsomething]

Oh yeah did you know that tumblr has a tag limit of 30 btw. I wasnt even really done I could probably talk myself in circles about this for like literally forever because it pisses me off that much. Both the circumstances in general and also that i'm pissed about them.

I guess it's hard to do anything else when you've backed yourself into a corner. It has been a long, long time since I decided I wouldn't let myself cry, and somehow it's not even what got me INTO this mess. But it probably doesn't help either.

You know, when you stop doing the things you love, it's hard to tell whether it's burnout or actual depression. I don't think I'd know what depression is if it bit me in the face, to be honest. In any case, I'm doing things again, so obviously it can't be that, right...?

Well, currently I'm a pretty all or nothing guy. Sure - why NOT spend three and a half hours on the art side of a project in a day? Especially when you haven't been really drawing in literal years?

Why not write a song in two hours? Why not write the entire next chapter of your novel?

...

It's not really sustainable. Once I stopped having to pour my energy into avoiding another relapse, i think... I don't know what to do with myself. I haven't for a while. It starts being a problem when you realize you don't know how to start doing what you used to love again.

If all my hobbies are gone and I leave them there... what else is there to do?

I miss drawing. I miss writing. I miss coding, even, and I'm willing to bet that's what I could pull myself back into the easiest, since it's less of a creative pursuit.

You know, I let myself stop trying to talk so much when I didn't have anything to say last summer. I let a lot of things in life just happen to me. It's how you wake up one day and realize a sketchbook that used to take two years, maybe, to fill out took you a very long four.

I know. Shit happens. You grow up, you don't have time. Except...

It's hard to do anything else when you've backed yourself into a corner.

I think we can't talk anymore because I tried to take initiative in my life, for once. Because you saw a good opportunity and took it.

I can't mess up one time without having it taken away from me. There's no second chance - at this point in [my life], it's either right or it's right.

I need the space and I should not be allowed to get it, because at this point it's not like I can quit. I don't want to! I wish I could.

Well, you can't have your cake and eat it, too. I guess that goes for both of us. I got myself into this, and now, well...

I can get out. I've done it before, I'll do it again. I'll wonder how I even felt.

(Angry, mostly.)

I'm doing this for you. So that you don't have to confront the fact that the world doesn't work like you think it does, that everything has a clear-cut answer. That I am just unambitious in life, that I just don't want to. Because the words "I can't" should never be in anyone's vocabulary.

I'm doing this so I don't have to feel what you really think of me. It's selfish. It's safe.

I think we can't talk anymore because I wanted to do something, for once.

[ryanlockheart]

percy was the more rambunctious of the pair, so it should have been no surprise that he was a natural-born performer. give him an audience, and he would show out — it was as simple as that. so when their little plan had gone into action, percy was pulling out all the tricks up his sleeve to pull nate's attention. he managed to make it look easy taking andrew's thick cock down his tight throat. even more impressive was his ability to look as pretty as ever with red eyes and drool all over his face. his pink lips were plush and swollen, pillowy as they sunk down on andrew's shaft. "angel by day, slut by night," percy remarked with a little giggle as he slapped the tip against his tongue. he glanced over at nate, watching him eat right out of the palms of their hands. he was doing good, it seemed, and percy wasn't letting up anytime soon. "unh-uh, been thinkin' about nate's all night long too. want you two to tag team me," he admitted. it was utter filth, but no one would've ever guessed based on how sweetly percy said it. he was the epitome of innocence even while doing the filthiest of things, a move he used to his advantage. knowing that andrew wanted it all just as bad as he did — if not more — that was all percy needed to keep going. he was messy and rough as he slammed the tip of drew's cock into the back of his throat, like it was the easiest thing in the world... which it certainly wasn't. "it's 'cause you want his cock too, daddy," he reminded him, rubbing the tip against his plush lips. his attention to shifted to the real mastermind of the night. even as he returned to work on the redhead's cock, he was watching nate intently. percy studied every palming of his hand on his bulge, every bottom lip bitten, every stifled groan. it was fucking hot — easily the best decision they'd ever made. "all you had to do was ask, and i would've fucked you, daddy," percy teased. "i mean, nate's probably packin' a monster down there... but i would've gladly helped you out, daddy. but now you've got us both to push you to your limits." the smaller male was rubbing his own bulge now, desperate for more friction. he craved the feeling of skin on his own, a warmth he could buck his hips up into. "you know i can't say no to big cock, daddy. i would've taken his cock so well, made him cum so much... i'd be moaning like the biggest slut in the world, it'd wake you up. and you'd have the honors of eating nate's load outta my pussy," percy chirped. his porcelain skin had turned a flushed pink shade, both from excitement and the effort he was putting into giving nate the show of his life. "i'll be feral. 'm not used to being told no... might have to try out this cute little cage i got so i won't be tempted to be bad... 's pink, 'n' i'll give one of you the key," percy answered. "you forgot the begging to be next, daddy. he wants you so bad, too, nate. you're gonna love watching him goon on your cock. he's so cute when he goons just from my feet."

percy loved everything about andrew — from the way insisted on meticulously cleaning every inch of their apartment to how he drove percy around in his pickup truck to how wild he went on his soft, little feet. there never had been a day where percy doubted andrew's love. in fact, the day he'd walked in on drew touching himself to his dirty socks, he knew they were soulmates without a doubt. it was something even he'd wanted to dabble in, but he never had figured out a way to approach it in conversation. "you have to see it, nate. he starts drooling all over the place and can barely string together a sentence. sometimes, i even stick a sock in his mouth. i edge him all night usin' my pussy... and when he finally gets to cum, he's so worked up he's shaking... just imagine what he'll do if we add your cock to the mix. i'll use him like a fuckin' dildo, and you can make him your little fleshlight," percy explained. the three of them were in for the ride of their lives. the youngest male was learning new things about himself, and it was only building up his confidence. percy might have seemed like the most self-assured person in the room, but it hadn't always been that easy for him. andrew had done wonders for his confidence, even if he didn't know that. if it hadn't been for him, there would've never been the opportunity to wrap his plush lips around nate's thick cock. his tongue teased the tip, lapping up a bead of pre-cum. "'s not wrong... 've eaten his load outta them. he loves my loafers," percy teased him. nate seemed to be intrigued, given the way he drew the smaller male forward. he pulled off his cock with a pop. he climbed up on the couch, just beside nate. the older boy whispered something in his ear, and that was all it took to get the cogs in motions. "maybe i'll make you both footsluts," percy tittered. "you're swayin' him on 'em, baby. he wants me to use 'em to play with his cock... don't get jealous," he whispered to the redhead. his tiny legs were extending, feet resting nate's lap now. his socks had been peeled away, just leaving his soft, sweaty feet to brush up against his cock. his cock was almost too big to grip with his tiny feet, but soon enough, percy was dragging the soles of his feet along nate's massive cock. "he wants to be a slut, daddy... 've got an idea," percy started, "we get all those guys, 'n' we pick one guy to stick around 'til the end... and then when he thinks 's all over, all three of us will fuck his pussy 'til he's pissin' all over himself."

growing up in the smackdab middle of the texas panhandle with plenty of siblings running around, one would think that nate evans would have never wanted for company. sure, his brothers and sisters were fun to hang out with, but he never quite got the attention that he needed. nate had a quiet confidence about him. he didn't speak much, but when he did, it meant something. when he'd finally made the decision to leave the scorching texas heat for the sea breezes of san francisco, nate made it crystal clear that he wasn't making a mistake. finding percy and andrew had been the proof of that. for the first time in his entire life, nate evans could boldly declare that he was happy. the scene unfolding before his eyes was breath-taking. he was captivated by how quick and eager to please percy was, and the way drew's digits curled in those chestnut locks made his cock twitch in his boxers. the fact that drew had locked eyes with him in the midst just proved to him that there was something up. they were doing this on purpose. nate was happy to go along — because, if he were honest, they were the thoughts that wouldn't leave his mind, no matter how wrong he told himself it was. "you've got an eager little whore on your hands there, nate. might have to make his wish a reality," nate remarked. "i think he's right though. you're not jealous because you want a taste of my cock too... can see it in your eyes." of course, nate planned on giving the two of them every last thing they'd ever even thought up. all in due time, they'd be more than just his boy toys — they'd be his. they'd all three be an item. it wasn't wishful thinking; it was going to be reality. "four fingers? that's a lot... maybe just enough to prep you for this cock though," nate hummed. "i thought i seen you takin' glances. i reckon you liked what you saw, or else i wouldn't be here right now watchin' your little boyfriend slut himself out for you... trust me, you get a turn on my cock? you'll be goonin' in a matter of minutes." it was cute, watching percy step up to please this new side of andrew. nate would've never thought he had it in him, but he was pleasantly surprised. "or maybe i'd nudge him with my foot to wake him up. y'know, he'd go wild to get a chance to clean my feet," nate rang out. "and then he could eat my load outta your pussy. 'd give me just enough time to get ready to load him up too." as the two delved into what their plan to drive him wild was the following night, nate had started to stroke his aching cock slowly. "do it, baby girl. give the key to drew. you put on that skimpy little skirt with it, and i'll fuckin' have no choice but to bust a nut in you two in the bathroom of a club," nate suggested. "oh, i wanna see this goonin'. i wanna see him drooling all over himself... 'm gonna make it come true tonight — just you two wait."

nate would've never guessed that andrew would have ever been so filthy. he could see it for percy — he had the nerve and drive to get anything he wanted... but the two of them in their most virile positions — that was the real game changer. "sounds like the hottest thing 've ever seen... maybe i should get you both goonin' — you'll both be takin' this fat cock at some point tonight. 've got two socks for a reason. unless one of y'all would like a whiff at daddy's boxers," nate announced with a twisted little grin on his lips. "i wanna hear it all. 'm gonna take you two and make you even filthier. we're gonna be gettin' raunchy on the regular," the taller male replied. he was dead-set on it all too, and he wasn't going to miss his target. the two boys would be reeling from the pleasure. nate would learn to play their bodies like violins, and neither would ever go unsatisfied. "oh, this i wanna see. next time, i want you to whip your phone out and hit record. matter of fact, i'll leave my shoes over for you to get off to. you like that, baby girl?" he questioned, cocking up a brow. he never would've imagined that sweet, innocent andrew was anything but an angel... but boy, was nate wrong — and in the best way possible. the redhead was eagerly lapping up his sweaty feet, unaware that he'd been wearing that damp pair of socks for nearly a week straight. it would've deterred practically anyone else away, but not drew nor percy. it was then he was giving the idea to lure percy in on the fun. nate wanted to see what all the fuss was about... and the second those tiny feet started to stroke his cock, it all made sense. "let's see if you're right there, drew. if you are, i'll let you clean up his mess," nate announced as his toes wiggled against drew's features. drew was a completely different person. he was dragging his tongue over his sweaty feet like it was the greatest thing he'd ever tasted. that was certainly an ego boost for him. "we're gonna slut you out, baby girl. and we're gonna get it on film. you're gonna watch it back when you're bein' naughty, and we're gonna fuck you while you watch it," nate already decided. "all those sweaty guys, they're gonna be pounding away at you. bet we could get thirty guys to come fuck that tight little cunt. 'specially if we show 'em that pretty face of yours." the little fantasy seemed so long-held by drew, and nate just wanted to do it justice. thankfully, he had percy to help him out with all the little details. "that pretty face's gonna be covered in so much nut. they're gonna love you cleaning their feet. bet we'll have a ton of people askin' for it when we inevitably turn you out again," nate went on. "got the right idea, perce..." he hissed out as those soft toes played with the tip of his cock. it felt so good, he wanted to just buck his hips up into the warmth... but he knew he couldn't. "but we're not just gonna pick one. we're gonna go through the whole roster with him too... and maybe we'll even use him as a urinal. since he wants to be such a fuckin' slut... couldn't even wait for me to give him orders," nate taunted him playfully. his foot playfully swiped a gentle blow against andrew's cheek. "drew, who'd you think's the bigger slut — you or percy?"

andrew was normally very sweet, calm and collected— but percy knew exactly how to bring out his wild side. all the younger boy had to do was look up at him with those big brown eyes, and andrew would be eating out of the palm of his hand. if it wasn't for percy, andrew would have never had the courage to carry out their plan to bring in nate. everything was coming along just as he had planned, and he only had percy to thank— his boyfriend was one of a kind, and andrew was in awe of his confidence all those years later. "what can i say? you play the part so well, my little performer," he grinned, threading his fingers through percy's hair. andrew let out a soft sigh as that tongue swirled around the tip of his cock, his grip on the smaller boy's chestnut curls tightening. he could feel nate watching them, and the sensation was intoxicating— andrew found himself wanting to put on a show for the other boy's gaze, to draw him into their world and never let him go. "but daddy's isn't the only cock on your mind all night, was it?" andrew smirked, slapping his heavy cock against percy's gorgeous little face. as the younger boy took his length into his mouth, he turned his attention to nate. "i always thought i'd be jealous if my boyfriend was eyeing some guy's cock like he's been eyeing yours... but 's just so fucking hot," he said with a breathy laugh. it was difficult to focus on anything other than percy's soft lips and talented tongue, but something about nate demanded his attention. whenever the three of them were together, andrew found himself struggling to keep up— his mind went into overdrive, and he didn't know who he wanted to pay attention to more. unsurprisingly, nate had won this round. "it was just my fingers— i was scared at first, so i teased myself just a little. i was just rubbing it, but the more i thought about how big your cock felt on me... i knew that i needed it, so i sucked on my fingers and slipped them inside," he began, cock twitching at the memory of it. "but that didn't last long, because after i had gotten a taste... i needed more. it went from one finger to two fingers to three or four, and then i caught a glimpse of your cock in the showers at the gym— and i went home and fucked myself on his dildo for over an hour. i shot my load, but i just kept going. it was like i couldn't stop." andrew could hardly believe the words coming from his own mouth— he almost sounded like percy, just a little more timid. "bet you would have let nate hit it right there, huh? he could have woken up and slipped into your pretty little pussy, and you would have just let him have it— you wouldn't have even been able to keep it a secret, 'cause you woulda been moaning so loud," drew mused. the mere thought should have been humiliating, but he couldn't deny how it made his cock twitch. with anyone else, andrew would have been fuming— but nate wasn't just anyone. he was their missing piece. "we're gonna be the nastiest sluts for you all day tomorrow, daddy. i'll wake perce up with my face in his feet, but i won't let him cum— that way he'll be good and ready to go from the jump," he promised, lips curled into a devilish smirk. "i would be on my knees within seconds, sucking on your sweaty nuts while you were pounding into my boyfriend... we're fucking filthy, daddy. 's only gonna get filthier with you."

when andrew was presented with a pair of sweaty feet to worship, he turned into a different person. he could spend hours letting his tongue explore every curve and soft toe— and percy knew that all too well. andrew had tried to keep his interests hidden, but he didn't do a great job; he always found a way to have percy's tiny feet in his lap, massaging them slowly and sniffing his fingers when he thought percy wasn't paying any attention. once percy walked in on him using a pair of his used socks to get off, there was simply no way to keep it concealed. "sometimes, percy keeps me gooning for hours. he'll keep them on my face the whole time, or he'll tease my cock with his soft soles until i'm begging him to let me cum— then he'll just use my cock like it's his own personal dildo, and i love it," andrew revealed, leaving a trail of kisses down nate's socked soles. "we just can't help it, can we? we get so fuckin' nasty with each other... and now we have you, and we're only gonna get filthier. you're such a man, daddy— there's so much we wanna do with you." the thought of getting both percy and nate all to himself was intoxicating, and he couldn't get it out of his mind. all the talk about feet had him going properly worked up, burying his face into nate's feet and taking deep whiffs of his musk. "i sniff his shoes all the time, especially when he gets home and gets in the shower... even fuck them sometimes," he admitted with his face in nate's feet. "i might be his daddy, but 'm still a slut for his feet. have you ever taken a peak at them, nate? they're so soft, and they'd feel so good wrapped around your cock... he'd work a load out of you in minutes." even though he hadn't been given permission, andrew was peeling nate's socks off and letting them fall to the floor. he let out a pathetic little whine as his bare feet were revealed— they were better than he could have even imagined. "p-pass around party bottom?" he asked, rubbing small circles into nate's soles. a little bit of drool dripped down his chin, but he didn't even notice. "i... yeah, i want that. i want you guys to use me, and then go around showing the video to every guy you know. let them all come in and use me as a pass around cunt— you don't even have to charge them, let them have my cunt for free." andrew leaned into nate's feet, letting the soft sole graze his cheek before pressing his nose into it. he pressed a soft kiss to each soles, holding nate's gaze as he dragged his tongue from the bottom of his heel to the top of his toes. "i'll worship all of their feet, too— one by one, i'll suck their toes and make them bust a nut just from that. you guys can tell them exactly how to use me, how to get me gooning all night. i just have one request," andrew groaned, nuzzling his face into nate's feet. "i want you to make sure that they're all filthy. gimme a bunch of nasty fuckin' guys to play with, and i'll make sure you guys aren't disappointed." nate was egging him on— and andrew was more than happy to accept the challenge. without saying a word, andrew was lathering his soft soles with his tongue and taking his sweaty toes into his mouth. if nate wanted to prove that he was a true footslut, then andrew was going to do exactly that.

[whatisreggieshortfor]

See Him As a Friend

Here’s a fluffy take on the lie detector test for @litgwritersroom’s prompt.

Bobby x MC

When Lucas read off the text about the lie detector, you could see how nervous the other Islanders got. You couldn’t understand why. This late in the show, they should trust who they’re with or they shouldn’t be with them. You figured it was that simple. Bobby was an open book to you.

Of course when you said as much to the other girls, Lottie had things to say. “Did you forget that he was called a player in the Mean Tweets challenge?”

“Did you forget you didn’t come out of that challenge looking too good either?” You argued, and there was beat of silence as Lottie clearly tried to come up with a retort.

But Marisol cut in, the only girl that never wavered from your side, “Let’s be honest for a minute though, Bobby has only ever had eyes on her. Even when I was in the friendship couple with him, it was obvious where his heart was. I think he was more worried about one of the other boys winning you over than anything else.”

“Same here.” Hope offered, though she clearly wasn’t sure if she really wanted to step in Lottie’s signature drama again, “I’ll always be thankful he saved me from getting dumped so Noah and I could be together, but I can’t see him having eyes for anyone else. In here or out there.”

Chelsea giggled to herself, clearly not sensing the tense air, “You guys should’ve seen his Beach Hut confessions! Literally every single one, no fail. Always Y/N. It was how I knew I’d get on with the two of them so well!” God, you loved your Bra.

You watched with the other Islanders as Gary was mercilessly torn apart by Lottie’s questions, and Bobby looked like he felt terrible just for needing to read them out. You asked Hannah questions for Lucas, and he went miles easier on her in comparison, which wasn’t much of a surprise since they’d only been together for a few days. Noah asked Gary’s questions for Lottie, and you could see the blonde girl feel remorse when his were easy. And it kept going, Lottie asking Jo the questions. Lucas asking Hope. Hannah asking Henrik. Ibrahim asking Chelsea. Henrik asking Ibrahim.

Until eventually, Gary was reading your questions to Bobby. “First question to make sure it’s still functioning like we haven’t been doing this for over a half hour, is your first name Robert?”

Bobby snorted, “Yup.”

Ding.

“Perfect. Okay. First question from Y/N- oh wait hold up this one has a note from Marisol written on the side, am I allowed to read that?” No one from the production team stopped him, so Gary shrugged, “It says ‘I bet you can guess who made her ask this question in under three seconds, and if you get it right I will finally try your hot chocolate.’”

You shared a conspiratorial smile with the law student beside you as Bobby laughed, “Now I’m very intrigued.”

Gary made a big show of clearing his throat, “In the Mean Tweets challenge,” You could already feel Lottie’s glare on you, “Would you consider the one about you being a player to be true?”

“Naw, no way. But nice question, Lottie.” Marisol laughed brazenly beside you as you snickered, waiting until the machine dinged it was the truth.

“Very nice, Bobble. It doesn’t say who the question came from, so I guess when you go out there they’ll tell you if you got it right. Next question, who else in the Villa did you feel a spark with?” Gary looked interested in the answer, but Bobby just grinned at him.

“Nobody.” Ding.

“Not a single girl caught your fancy?” Gary asked, mouth gaping like a fish.

Bobby shook his head, “Nope. Been Y/N for me since day one.”

“Class act, Bobs. Last question, and probably the easiest for you. Ready?”

“Fire away, Gareth.”

“What’s your favorite thing about Y/N?”

“Her butt.” Beeeeeeep.

Gary gasped, “That’s a lie, Bobby!”

“Okay, okay! But the real answer is cheesier.” The Scottish boy grinned, totally unbothered, “Definitely her laugh. Not only is it lovely, but it means my jokes are landing.” Ding.

As soon as he walked out, Bobby planted a big kiss on your cheek, “Had to go makin’ me sound like a melt, didn’t ya, lass?”

You giggled, pressing your lips to his briefly, “Act like you don’t melt for me all the time. Might as well be a popsicle in the sun.” He chuckled as he pulled you into a cuddle.

“So…” he tried to look nonchalant but his eyes were sparkling with mischief, “Did I get it right? Was it Lottie?”

“Yes.” You, Marisol, and Chelsea chirped in unison.

Bobby pumped his fist into the air, “Soon as this is over, I’m making that hot chocolate, Marisol!” You pouted but he just tickled you, “I’ll make you one, too, babe. I’ll always make you some.” You beamed, giggling when the other Islanders voiced their own requests for a cup.

Eventually it was your turn, and you followed Chelsea into the Hideaway. Once you were hooked up, she giggled, “It doesn’t actually give me a starter question. Should I do an obvious one? Like who your best girlfriend is in the Villa? Or a crazy one like were you born in a field?”

You snorted, “I’ll answer both. My best bra is you, Chels. Though Marisol is a close second. And I actually was not born in a field, but my mom has said I was almost born in a barn.” The machine dinged twice in rapid fire.

“Oh! Both true! Though now I wanna hear the barn story…”

“Later, babes.” You grinned, “I promise.” The machine dinged true again and Chelsea clapped her hands before grabbing the question cards.

“Alrighty, babes! Bobby’s first question is…do you genuinely think he’s funny?”

You didn’t even hesitate, “Of course. Funniest person I’ve ever met.” Ding. “His pranks could use some workshopping though.” You winked at the camera as the machine beeped angrily.

Chelsea gasped, hand flying up to her mouth, “You lied! You don’t think his pranks need work.”

You shrugged, still smiling, “Like I said, funniest person.”

“Okay, time for number two!” Chelsea beamed, she made you even more relaxed than you already were about answering these, “Do you still see Bobby as a friend?”

You pursed your lips, contemplating the question in its entirety, “Am I allowed to give an explanation to my answer?” A producer off to the side nodded to you. Back in the observation room, Bobby looked instantly panicked, even as Gary told him he had nothing to worry about. “Okay. Do I see Bobby as a friend? Yes.” Ding. “And I know Bobby, I know that answer is sending him spiraling down a rabbit hole, so Gary! You better make sure he’s paying attention!” Both of their heads snapped to the screen as you cleared your throat. You continued seriously, but your smile never left, “From day one, Bobby has made me feel comfortable. Literally. He was willing to sleep on the daybeds if I didn’t feel up to sharing the bed, and he always knows what to do when something goes wrong. He’s not just my best friend-“ Chelsea grunted, and you amended, “He’s not just my best male friend, he’s my person. When I need a laugh, he always has a joke ready. When I need to cry, he’s offering his shoulder. He’s there to relax, he’s there to goof around, he’s there for the drama, and he’s been there for every moment between them. So yeah, he’s my best friend. But he’s more than that, too.”

Chelsea leaned forward, watching the machine anxiously, and when the sound came out and the light came on, she was already shouting, “That was the truth! Aw, babes, that was beautiful. Keep it in mind for this last one. It’s the biggest.” Your eyes widened, what could be bigger than he’s biggest insecurity about being here? Chelsea held the card up, covering her face because she knew your answer would make her happy cry, “If Bobby told you he loved you, would you be able to say it back and mean it?”

“Absolutely.” Not even a second of time between the end of the question and your answer, and the responding ding reverberated through the air as Chelsea started fanning her eyes.

“Dammit babes! I knew I’d cry!”

Making your way out with Chelsea, you suddenly had the air knocked from your lungs as a body collided with yours, picking you up and sweeping you through the air. Once your feet were back on solid ground, you met Bobby’s teary eyes, “Lass,” his voice was breathy, almost filled with the laughter you loved so much, “Y/N, I-“

You slapped a hand over his mouth, shaking your head at his confusion, eyes darting around to the very visibly interested Islanders that weren’t even pretending to look away, “Not right now. Not in front of everyone. I want it to be a moment for us.”

His eyes somehow softened even more, and he slowly pulled your hand away, “Okay, lass. I’ll leave it up to you then.”

The next morning, the two of you were having an early breakfast while the other Islanders took a lie in. Just watching the sun rise, enjoying pastries Bobby took the extra care to make for everyone, his fingers on one hand drawing lazy circles on your thighs as you relaxed in the beanbags together with your legs thrown in his lap. “Hey, Bobble?”

He hummed, eyes peeking open to take a glance at you, watching the barely hidden excitement that was practically rolling off of you. “What’s up? You get a text or something?”

Shaking your head, you gave him a gentle smile, “I love you, Bobby.”

His face went blank, mouth falling open, before his lips stretched into his widest smile as he tugged you closer by the waist, punctuating each word with a kiss to your face, “I-“ your cheek, “love-“ your forehead, “you-“ your nose. “I love you, lass.” Finally your lips.

Masterlist

[obeymeoasis]

Demon Bros React: MC Defends Them From Nasty Remarks

Warnings: Explicit language, MC being mildly violent (throwing/kicking things).

Lucifer

Lucifer had just finished some paperwork for Diavolo and was on his way to R.A.D to deliver it.

In the hallway he could hear two demons talking and laughing. As he got closer he heard them say "Lucifer" and instinctively ducked into a nearby alcove.

"Lucifer's such an asshole." "I know, right? He acts like he's so much better than the rest of us when really, he just has a huge stick up his ass. It's no wonder he doesn't have any friends. Even his own brothers don't like him!" "He'll probably spend the rest of his life being Diavolo’s little bitch."

He would be lying if the comments didn't make him angry. But it was far from the worst thing he had heard about himself and would definitely not be the last time someone spoke ill of him.

With a weary sigh, Lucifer turned toward the south entrance where he could walk in order to avoid the demons. He could have strode past and glared at them menacingly. He could have made them grovel on their knees. But he was honestly exhausted and looked forward to this day being over as soon as possible. Plus, it would reflect poorly on Lord Diavolo if he started a fight with some lesser demons over this.

Suddenly, the chatter of the demons was interrupted by a loud thumping sound followed by the sound of one of the demons screeching in pain.

Lucifer quickly turned around to see- Oh no. You were standing in front of the demons, rage clear on your face. The demon who had yelled in pain was crouched on the ground holding his bruised shoulder. A History of the Devildom textbook was open on the ground, pages crumpled.

Did you... did you just throw a textbook at a demon?

Before he could even move, he heard your angry voice. "Listen here you fuckers. How dare you talk about Lucifer like that. He's one of the kindest, most intelligent, most thoughtful beings I've ever met. And you have no right to speak of him like that! I love him!"

Lucifer's heart burst at your declaration, his cheeks warming in pleasure. The two demons however, who had been gaping at you in shock, were now beginning to look murderous. The injured one stood up and slowly inched toward you, a vicious grin on his face. "Oh, is that so? And what the hell is a weak human like you going to do about it?"

You opened your mouth to speak but before you could say anything, Lucifer picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. "Love, I appreciate how you stood up for me. There's not many people who have done so for me before. But any more would cause trouble. And also, please don't throw textbooks at others, no matter how much you think they deserve it."

With a smug smile on his face, Lucifer began to walk toward the dorms. You, however, were struggling to turn your head around, still yelling and pointing angrily at the demons. "This isn't over! Sleep with your eyes wide open! You'll be hearing from my lawyer!"

He really did love you.

Mammon

Mammon was at the casino on a Monday night. It was lively as always, crowds of people playing group games and others drinking and mingling.

But for some reason, Mammon felt like being alone. He was in one of the more quiet corners, playing the slot machines.

He honestly should have been back at the dorms doing his homework. He was here because he felt like he had to, but his heart wasn't really in it. Mammon thought about packing it up early and texting you to see if you wanted to hang out.

The sudden sound of glass shattering broke through his thoughts. There was some sort of commotion going on and Mammon could hear angry yelling and cursing, some kind of argument.

Like many of the other customers, Mammon drifted toward the noise wanting to see what had happened. His heart sank when he saw you in the middle of the crowd, still in your R.A.D uniform, arguing with an older demon who Mammon recognized as a regular. They had played some games together before that always ended in angry accusations. The remains of a drinking glass lay shattered on the floor.

Mammon quickly rushed to your side. "MC, what the hell are you doing here?! What happened?" Up close he could see how livid you looked, you were trembling with fury.

The older demon opened his mouth while gesturing at his ruined clothes. "This bitch threw a drink at me! I should have them arrested! Do you know how much this tuxedo costs?" Ignoring him, you turned to face Mammon.

"Mams, Lucifer told me to check up on you and you weren't answering my calls. So I decided to come in person to make sure you were okay. But then I heard this asshole saying terrible things about you to his friends, calling you a liar and a cheater and all kinds of horrible names that you're not!"

Mammon was shocked to see you were struggling to fight off your tears, your lower lip quivering. "I know how caring and genuine and loving you are and I couldn't stand by while he said those things about you! None of it’s true!"

Overcome with emotion Mammon embraced you fiercely, shielding you from the other demon. "Oh, babe. Ya really are a special one.” Mammon gently stroked your hair and whispered in your ear. “I don't care about what he said, but thanks for sticking up for me. I love ya so much."

"Now let's make a run for it so that demon doesn't kill us."

Leviathan

Levi was slowly getting used to being in a relationship with you in public. At first, interactions were limited to the privacy of his room: cuddling and watching movies, gaming together, reading manga together. But now he looked forward to waiting for you after classes and walking home with you while holding hands.

His face got really red and he had a hard time making eye contact with you but still, he thought it was an improvement.

Right now he was waiting for you outside your classroom, scrolling through his D.D.D to kill time. Suddenly, he heard someone call your name.

“MC, you’re dating Levi right?” At the sound of his name he peeked in the window to see you cornered by three demons. He saw you nod. 

The demons began to barrage you with questions. “Why are you with a loser like that? Doesn’t he like never leave his room?” “He’s honestly the ugliest out of his family. I don’t believe that Levi and Asmo are related.” “You don’t actually find him attractive, do you?” “Are you with him ‘cause he’s like the easiest to control?” 

Each word felt like someone was piercing his heart. These were all things that he had thought or wondered himself, days when the darkness seemed to win over his mind. But to have them spoken out loud, especially in front of you, it was unbearable. It was as if his lowest and most shameful thoughts were being justified.

He was afraid to hear what your answers would be. Biting his lower lip, Levi turned to head home by himself but flinched at the loud sound of something slamming into the wall. He peeked inside the window again and saw you standing there, furious, your hands clenched into fists. You had apparently kicked one of the desks into the wall, black scuff marks clearly visible against the white paint.

“Alright, listen here you despicable fucks because I’m only going to say this once. My relationship with Levi is private, meaning all of your questions can be answered with ‘none of your damn business’. But since you’ve gone out of your way to waste my time, I’ll let you know this: Leviathan is more beautiful, inside and out, than any of you will ever be in your entire miserable lives. I honestly don’t think you deserve to breathe the same air as him and I hope Levi summons Lotan to devour the three of you."

Levi’s jaw was on the floor. He had never heard you speak that way. He had never had someone defend him so fiercely. His thoughts were interrupted by the classroom door suddenly slamming open as you walked out."

“Oh Levi, tell me you didn’t hear anything just now.” Your eyes were wide and you looked at him nervously.

Levi grabbed your hand and held it tight between two of his own. “I did, but it’s alright. Thanks for what you said.”

“Anything for my Lord of Shadows.”

Satan

Satan was heading to the library, your usual after-school spot. Some days you two spent hours there doing homework, reading, or just chatting quietly about your day before heading to dinner.

As he approached the table he saw you sitting down with a stranger seated opposite you. Leaning closer he was relieved to see it was a classmate you were friendly with, someone he knew you hung out with occasionally.

Satan was about to say hello when he stopped at the mention of his name. "MC, are you sure it's wise to be this involved with Satan?"

He quickly ducked behind a nearby bookshelf. Satan usually wasn't one to eavesdrop like this but the question concerned him.

"MC, I'm asking you for your sake. Satan is dangerous. He's violent and cruel. There are rumors about him beating up other demons and doing horrible things to them. What if he tries to hurt you too?"

Satan flinched. Sure his wrath had led him to do some destructive things before, but it was never without reason. Is this how you saw him as well? His thoughts began to spiral. What if you grew scared of him? Of his wrath? What if you flinched at his touch? That would hurt more than any of the rumors that swirled about him. 

Satan saw you take a deep breath before speaking. "Well, I appreciate you talking to me about this. I know you meant the best and were just thinking about me. But I promise you, you have nothing to be worried about. Satan would never hurt me."

He saw your friend shake their head, exasperated. "But you don't know that! What if one day he can't control himself and has an outburst or something?"

You replied carefully. "Satan is gentle. Incredibly so. He always treats me with nothing but respect and kindness. And Satan's not some kind of monster. He knows how to control himself and his powers. I love him. I really do. And until he decides to stop loving me, I want to be by his side."

He saw your friend huff irritably and get up to walk away. "Suit yourself, MC. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Satan took this as his cue to walk over. Your eyes brightened at the sight of him and you started to ask him about his day, acting as if nothing had happened. Satan played along for a bit, but then reached across the table for your hand and began playing with your fingers.

His hand was shaking. "I'll never stop loving you, you know. For as long as I live you're the only one for me. I love you, MC."

Asmodeus

Asmo was thrilled when you said you wanted to go dancing with him because he was usually the one pestering you to do things. He was having so much fun with you tonight, twirling you around on the dance floor and marveling how beautiful you looked under the shimmering lights of the club.

He was beginning to feel a bit hot, however, and excused himself to the bathroom, making sure you were safe on of the couches with a bottle of water in your hand.

Asmo had just finished touching up his makeup and adjusting his outfit when he heard two demons near the entrance of the bathroom gossiping loudly about him.

“Did you see what he was wearing tonight? He might as well have come naked instead of wearing those scraps of fabric he thinks counts as an outfit.” “My friend slept with Asmo once. She said he’s super easy, he’s willing to pretty much sleep with anyone.” “I bet him and that human won’t last another week. Once he’s done with them he’ll trash ‘em and move on to the next one, like he always does.”

Being the Avatar of Lust meant that Asmo had heard these kinds of comments before, whispered in the hallways at R.A.D or the dark hallways of nightclubs. It never really got easier listening to them though, and he realized he was biting down hard on his lower lip, his nails digging into his palm. 

Asmo contemplated what to do. He didn’t want to keep you waiting by yourself outside but he also didn’t want to run into the demons talking about him. Their comments affected him more than he thought they would. Maybe it was because you were involved. He wouldn’t do that to you. You knew that right? He would never treat you like a plaything.

Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves Asmo schooled his face into an expression of careless indifference. He took a step outside, ready to greet his "fans", but was surprised to see that you had gotten there first.

And what a sight you were. Despite being much shorter than the two demons, it seemed you were the least bit intimidated. Your glare was ice cold as you gestured wildly at the two of them, and moving closer Asmo realized you were screaming.

"How fucking dare you say such vile things? You don't know the first thing about Asmo. You're really going to shame someone for what they wear?! For what they do in the privacy of their bedroom?!"

You pointed angrily at the demons, who seemed too stunned to move or say anything. "People like you make me fucking sick. You're despicable! Talking as if you're so high and mighty when all you do is judge others! How dare you? You cowards!"

Asmo could see you were getting more and more enraged and your hands were beginning to tremble. He leapt forward to stand between you and the demons and put his hands gently on your shoulders. Once he saw that you were okay, he gave you a passionate kiss, his mouth hot and needy against yours.

You kissed him back for a moment but moved away to hiss, "Karens, Asmo! Karens in the fucking Devildom, who would have thought?!"

"I know, darling. Let's head home. We can have a nice, relaxing bubble bath together."

Beelzebub

Beel was looking through the menu, deciding between a couple of his favorite dishes. It was your one year anniversary and despite his insistent protests, you had remained firm in your decision to pay for that night’s meal. Ever since you and Beel began dating, he pretty much always paid for your meals together because of how much he ate. But tonight, you wanted to be the one to treat him for once.

Beel knew you had secretly been saving up Grimm and he’d feel so guilty if you spent it all on him. Which was why he was trying to decide between a couple of different things, when normally he would have ordered everything on the page.

“Babe, please order whatever you want. I can practically see the thoughts turning in your head. I told you that I wanted to pay for tonight and I’m going to keep that promise. I want this to be a special night for us, so don’t worry about it.” Before he could protest, you called the waiter over.

Beel sighed and knew there was no changing your mind on this. You were incredibly stubborn when you wanted to be. He rattled off his usual order as the waiter frantically scribbled down notes, struggling to keep up. Once finished, Beel handed over the menus and smiled at how cute you looked, a mixture of pride and smugness on your face.

But your expression soon turned sour as you heard the conversation from a couple sitting a few tables over. Their voices were intentionally loud and they kept sneaking glances at your table as if to watch your reactions.

“Oh my lord, honey did you see how much food that guy just ordered? What an absolute pig!” “I saw, darling. I honestly pity his date right now, they must be soooo embarrassed.” “Is there anyone who wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen in public with such a selfish glutton?”

Beel’s heart felt like it had sunk. Embarrassed? Was MC embarrassed to be seen with him? Panicking, Beel thought back to all of the dates he’d had with MC so far. He realized that they ate out a good majority of the time they hung out, with Beel eating his normal enormous portions each time. Oh no, what had he done?

Head bowed, Beel slowly looked up at you, afraid to see what kind of expression you were making. But to his surprise, you didn’t look embarrassed or ashamed at all. You looked like you were going to murder someone.

He watched as you cleared your throat and then began speaking even more loudly than the couple had been. “OH BEEL, MY HANDSOME, KIND, LOVING, STRONG, SEXY, TALENTED BOYFRIEND. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! YOU’RE HONESTLY SO AMAZING AND ONE OF THE QUALITIES I LOVE ABOUT YOU MOST IS THAT YOU’RE NOT A JUDGMENTAL ASSHOLE WHO MAKES RUDE INAPPROPRIATE COMMENTS TO STRANGERS ABOUT THINGS THAT ARE NONE OF THEIR DAMN BUSINESS!” 

Beel felt his lips inch into a smile and he flushed with amusement and happiness. But you weren’t finished just yet. “EXCUSE ME WAITER?” 

Your waiter practically ran to the table and looked between you two nervously, then at the couple glaring daggers in your direction. “COULD YOU PLEASE BRING US ANOTHER MENU? MY BOYFRIEND WASN’T FINISHED WITH ORDERING WHAT HE WANTS. OH BEEL, I LOVE HOW MUCH YOU EAT. HOW COULD SOMEONE BE EMBARRASSED OF A WONDERFUL GUY LIKE YOU?”

Beel took the menu and began listing some more foods at random, not really paying attention. He was too busy thinking about how much he loved you, how nobody aside from Belphie had ever stood up for him like that, had protected him like that. His cheeks felt like they were about to split from how much he was smiling.

When the waiter finally left, looking frazzled, Beel made his way over to your side of the table. He knelt down and nuzzled into your neck before giving you a tender kiss on your forehead. “MC, you’re amazing.”

Belphegor

Belphie had to admit, the gardens were a pretty nice place for a nap. Earlier in the day you had practically dragged him outside claiming that you were bored of sleeping in his room. As if that was even possible.

At first he was pretty annoyed that you were making him get up and move around. But the newly washed picnic blanket, the cool breeze rustling through the trees, and the light smell of flowers in the air all contributed to a very nice environment for a nap.

Belphie rested his head on your lap, already feeling his eyelids growing heavier. Your fingers gently combed through his hair, lightly scratching against his scalp, and he practically purred.

He guessed he had been asleep for about ten minutes when he awoke to the sound of your voice and something prodding against his knee.

Irritated at the disturbance, Belphie looked up to see two R.A.D students he recognized for always causing trouble. He looked over to see you scowling and guessed you had been telling them to leave so they wouldn't wake him up.

One of the students leered down, blocking out the light, and used the tip of his foot to poke Belphie's knee again. "Well the two of you make an odd fucking pair, huh?” He sneered, “Personally, I don’t date people who have MURDERED me in the past but what do I know? Love works in all kinds of mysterious ways.” You flinched as if someone had slapped you and Belphie growled, his hands curling into fists.

The other student leaned down to clap Belphie on the shoulder. “I gotta admit I didn’t know you had it in you, chief! I always thought you were...” He gave Belphie a once-over before adding “Well, everyone thinks you’re a bit fucking useless, eh? But I’m glad to see you’re capable of something.”

Belphie opened his mouth to reply venomously but was interrupted by the most horrifying sound coming from your mouth. It sounded like a combination of wailing and screeching as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. It was difficult to hear what exactly you were saying because of how hard you were crying, but Belphie could make out “How could you say that?!” and “Leave him alone!” among the screams. 

The two students had their hands over their ears, their faces twisted into grimaces of pain. One shouted, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Worried, Belphie put a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you down but you shrugged it off, continuing to cry and wail. Pretty soon other students began gathering around you, whispering amongst themselves and looking to see what all the noise and commotion was about. It was difficult to ignore you when you kept yelling things like “You’re horrible! Horrible! Leave us alone!” 

The two instigators looked at each other for a brief moment before deciding to run off, not wanting to get involved any further. And as soon as they left, it was like a switch had been turned off. You stopped crying and screaming immediately. If he hadn’t been there from the beginning, Belphie never would have guessed that you had been crying. Your face was perfectly calm and you sat relaxed with your hands folded, the picture of innocence.

“Belphie, don’t worry about what those two idiots said. We’ve talked about it enough and we’ve both worked it out, haven’t we? And you’re not useless. You know how much I love you and care about you. You mean so much to me.” 

Belphie leaned over to take your hand in his trembling one. He reached down to brush a stray leaf out of your hair before whispering, “MC, you’re fucking terrifying sometimes. I love you.”

[doobnnoob-tf2]

I've always had this idea in my brain that I would love to see but I never could work up the courage to request it from anyone. And after reading your blog I don't think I could find anyone more fitting to ask than you:: could you write something of Spy comforting Scout after like a bad dream or something? Feat. Sniper because I love the idea of him being like an extra dad to Scout alongside Spy.

The smell off fresh popcorn filled the air as Spy stood in the kitchen.  He was designated with the task of getting snacks and drinks ready while Sniper made sure the rec room was set up for their movie.  It’d been the first date night in a while for them, and Sniper seemed rather excited about his movie choice.

A door opened behind him.  “Sniper, I don’t know how else I can explain this to you.  No, coming in and asking if it’s ready does not make it go any faster.”

“I’m.. sorry?”

Spy turned.  “Scout?  What are you doing up, it’s late.”

“First of all, I ain’t got a bedtime.  And B, uh..”  Scout walked over to the cupboards to get a glass.  He looked pale.  “Just wanted some water was all.”

“I see.. and that’s all?”

“Well, yeah, why?”

Spy shrugged.  But Scout didn’t move, he didn’t even take a drink from his glass.  Something was on his mind.

“So you’re probably.. busy, right?”

“That would depend.  What do you need?”

Scout fidgeted, sighed, looked anywhere but in his direction.  He opened his mouth to speak, and then changed his mind at least twice.  “Do you.. d’ya ever have those like.. dreams where you wake up and things just don’t feel right?  Like nothin’s wrong but thing’s.. feel wrong.”

Spy looked at him with a slight, concerned frown.  “So you had a bad dream?”

“No!  No, no, not at all, that’s not.. it’s..”  Scout trailed off and then sighed again, defeated.  “Okay, fine, alright, I did!  Happy now?”

Things got quiet, both standing and avoiding looking at the other for what seemed like forever.

“To answer your question, Scout: yes.  I have had those kinds of dreams before and they are.. very unpleasant.”  Spy waited, and then looked at him.  Scout was hunched in on himself, staring holes into the floor.  He knew he had to say something.  “But it was just a dream, and you know that.  And sometimes they may end up being very painful memories, but they are just that.  Memories.  You are not in that time of your life any more.”

He was already moving to set a kettle on another burner to boil water, getting out three mugs and some tea.  Chamomile.  “And sometimes, they don’t even make sense.  It’s all just your mind, taking bits and pieces of your thoughts and feelings of the day and turning them into some odd amalgamation in your head that makes no sense.  And the next thing you know, you are having a dream about something incredible.. or something frightening that you can not quite identify - or maybe you can - and in those moments, all of it seems so very real and you can’t escape.”

“But you are not there anymore, are you?”  Spy saw Scout looking at him from the corner of his eyes.

“No.”

“Exactly.  The feelings may take some time to pass but that is what I’ve found is the easiest to get me through.  To remind myself I am not there, and that a dream cannot hurt me.”

“And I’ve always found distractions make good help to get over a dream, popcorn ready yet?”  Sniper walked over to peer around Spy.

“It should be, oui.  Put it in a bowl and I’ll be there in a moment.”  He watched him collect the snacks, and rolled his eyes playfully when Sniper dropped a kiss on his head before going back to the rec room.

“Must make it easier too, huh?”

“Pardon?”

“Y’know, like..”  Scout gestured to the doorway.  “Havin’ Snipes there when you wake up from those dreams.”

Spy looked at Scout, then over at the kettle as it whistled and moved to finish making the tea.  Maybe, he thought, they could have a more intimate date night later.  “Scout?  Would you.. like to join Sniper and I for a movie?”

“C’mon, everyone on the base knows you two haven’t had alone time in ages, with all the missions Miss Pauling has had you two runnin’.”

“I insist.”

It took some convincing, but Sniper relented.  The three of them settled together on the couch, sharing snacks and eyes glued to the movie.  Spy sat in the middle, leaned comfortably over on Sniper’s shoulder.  Sniper had pulled the coffee table closer for him to prop his feet up on.  And Scout had seated himself on the other side of Spy.

It was a horror movie, of course.  The Exorcist.  Sniper refused to tell him exactly how he got his hands on a copy.  Just that he wanted to see it, and he just so happened to coincidentally come across a copy of the reel the other week while on a mission.  Spy could only assume a recent target of his had a copy, and Sniper couldn’t resist giving into temptation.

It was only about halfway through when Scout slumped over slowly onto Spy’s side, sound asleep.  Spy froze and looked over, staring at him for a moment as something came over him.

“Think we should wake him?”  Sniper whispered.

Spy simply shook his head no and settled to continue watching.  Only to shift around again mere moments later, to move his hand to pet Scout’s hair gently as he slept.

Sniper smirked to himself and grabbed a blanket to toss over Scout, draping his arm around the both of them to pull everyone closer.

=============================

I hope this was good for what you were wanting!

I’ve rewritten parts of this so many times because I worry it doesn’t sound good, but if I don’t post it now I fear I never will!  :’D

[lunamadhatter99]

Panic

Part 10

Hi! So.. I'm having some bad moments these past days, I'm sorry if I won't post so frequently, I suffer from anxiety, depression and panic attacks and these days have been hard😅

Anyway, here's part 10, it's a little shorter than usually though...Hope you guys like it anyway🤷🏻‍♀️🙈 as always tell me what you think and tell me if you want ot be tagged in the next parts😘

Chapter summary: the challenge at the Train Bridge was both the easiest and the hardest for the Reader... blindfolds aren't exactly reader's favourite thing.

Chapter warnings: none... I think 🤔

Tag list: @shenevertricks1831 @mixed-theater-faisty-tings @stuckinthesmalldoor @girlygirl-20 @jillo0315 @one-edgy-bitch

"So.. this is how people do for fun, uh?" Dodge says to me as we walk among the people at the party, with Natalie and Heather. 

"Apparently" I reply.

"Hey. Want to bet I can beat you at cornhole?" Natalie asks everyone.

I roll my eyes shaking my head chuckling.

"Nice try" Heather laughs. 

"Not a chance Williams" I tell her.

"She's like a creepy cornhole prodigy" Heather tells Dodge, who was confused by our answers. 

"Will you shut up?" Natalie replies jokingly.

"She once beat 12 U.T. frat guys at once" I say. "Not a good show... for them obviously"

"Oh fine!" She surrender.

"Plus.. I gotta find Diggins.. he says he has some auto-proclaimed brother duty to fulfill, apparently" I tell her, nodding slightly to Dodge.

"Should I be worried?" He asks.

"I really don't know, that guy is unpredictable" I chuckle.

"Wait... auto-proclaimed brother?" Heather asks.

"Yeah, he proclaimed himself my brother since, you know, I don't have a family" I explain shrugging. 

"That's not true" Natalie says "you have us"

"Ooh how cheesy" I teasingly say to her, even though the thought makes me smile.

"For you. I'll help you find him then." She offers "Heather?"

"I have to go find Bishop" Heather replies.

"You two need to talk shit out, yes" I tell her, as I start to walk away with Dodge and Natalie "also.. if he acts like a dick tell me and I'll deal with him"

"Sure!"

We walk around, me searching for Diggins as we do, finding Summer instead. 

"Hey. I didn't know you worked at the Derby" Natalie says to her as we near.

"Just filling in for Diggins" she replies sending us a knowing look, referring to the next challenge, probably. "So, pay attention to the seven-digit number. Okay?" She then hands us three tickets. "The final four are what natter tonight, but... for now they're beside the points."

"Got it" I say nodding and so do Dodge and Natalie.

"And tell Heather if you see her, okay? She needs her ticket" Summer tells us.

"I can give Heather her ticket" Natalie quickly offers.

I turn to look at Dodge, a knowing look on his face too.

Summer hands Natalie Heather's ticket so we turn around to walk away.

"Final four are what natter tonight, but they're beside the point?" Dodge repeats Summer's words, a hint of confusion in his tone.

"Beside the points. It's code. Tonight's challenge will decide the final four" Natalie answers "the first three numbers are the points we have after Graybill's. Hey I'm up to 225, man" she says happily, nudging my shoulder.

So me and Dodge look at our tickets.

"I'm... oh..  260. Not bad." I comment.

"275?" Natalie asks looking at Dodge's ticket "you got a hundred points?"

"I solved the riddle" He answers.

Natalie then looks at Heather's. 

"My god... guys, Heather's at 270." She says."You're in the lead" she looks at Dodge, who just turn the ticket in his hand around.

On the back of it there's a clue, an indication I think.

"Exit 12, I-45, 1:00 a.m. This is the next challenge" I say.

Dodge looks at me, sending me a quick small confident smile.

"I better try look for her and give her her ticket" Natalie says.

"Yeah.. Good idea" I tell her with a smile.

"I'll see you later.. then" she nervously smile.

"Hey, it's gonna be fine" I assure her.

"Yeah.. I know" she then smiles again and walk away.

"Do you think she will actually give her the ticket or.." Dodge supposes.

"She might be strategic, but not a bitch.. I hope..." I tell him chuckling.

"Yeah.. hopefully. So... what do you want to do as we wait? We can still walk around looking for Diggins, but he's probably organising everything for the challenge" he says, shrugging.

"We can just walk, if you want" I smile at him.

"Us alone? Someone's brave tonight" he jokes.

"You can't keep teasing me like that.. not after last night." I slightly shove him.

"Last night? What happened last night?" He asks faking confusion.

"Oh! Didn't I tell you? Well this guys came to my house, completely uninvited" I say with fake annoyance. 

"What a dick" he comments, a stupid smile on his face.

"He started say things like 'I always thing about you' and some cheesy things like that" I say looking at his reactions, he's surprised and just laughs.

"No way" he exclaims.

"He even dared kiss me. Can you believe that?"

"No. Way"

"Yeah and then we had sex, because well... everyone deserves a chance, right?"

"Of course. And how was he?"

"Well... he was okay. He didn't make me cum once though" I tease.

"Oh!" He says, completely caught off guard "I'm pretty sure I made you cum at least 3 times"

"Ooh you sure?" I challenge.

"Want to try again? I can go up on.... 6" he offers, putting his arm around me.

"Oh! Okay calm down cowboy" I say holding his hand.

"Yeah... as if you didn't like it" he says this whispering into my ear.

"So it is true!" We turn around as we hear Ray's voice behind us.

I give him a questioning look and he continues.

"You're already cheating on me with the new kid, uh?" He teases walking towards us.

"We're not together, Ray" I tell him.

"Oh... yet, baby. I'm gonna win. And you know it so.. let's just not waste time" he's in front of us now.

"You really can't take a hint, can you?" Dodge interrupts.

"C'mon, Dodge, let's go" I say grabbing Dodge's arm to move his attention from Ray to me.

As we start to walk away I look at Ray, to make sure he's not try to follow us, and I see something on Ray's face.

It's like sadness, defeat. He meets my eyes and just smiles, faking confidence, but I can see right through it.

"Are you okay?" Dodge suddenly asks me.

"Me? Why are you asking me?"

"Because he's a dick"

"Well, you seem more affected by his words than me" I gently tell him, holding his hand.

"I... yeah okay... I never liked how he talks to you, like you're his and he literally own you. Now that we.. I mean.." he chuckles embarrassed. 

"Are you blushing, Dodge Mason?" I ask surprised.

"Oh shut up." He says looking away from me with an embarrassed smile.

"Go on" I say.

I really want to hear him say it.

He takes a deep breath.

"Now that we're a... now thay you are.."

"I'm what?" I tease.

"My girlfriend... or I mean.. if you want to"

I love how embarrassed he's getting, it makes up for all the times he did it with me.

"I don't know..." I pretend to think "what's in for me?"

I try to make him comfortable, joking around and teasing each other is our routine so maybe it would help ease him up.

"Well.." he starts, I can see him gaining some confidence back "I'm good with animals, I work hard, I can fight.. I'm a pretty good cook..."

"Oh... that's not bad at all... okay fine. I'll be your girlfriend" I tell him getting closer to him to give him a kiss, he puts his hand on my face caressing my cheeks.

"Let me say: fucking finally" he then kisses me.

When he pulls away he looks at me, with a small smirk on his face.

"What?" I ask.

"There's also something else in for you, being my girlfriend" he says.

"Oh yeah? And what?"

"I'd let you ride my face any fucking time you want" he says.

I feel my face warm up all of a sudden and I look down at my feet to avoid his eyes, but his hand gently grab my chin to make me look at him.

"What's wrong?" He teases.

"Oh shut up"

"You know how to make me shut up"

So I just kiss him before walking some more around the party.

This challenge was the worst so far, they made us put some blindfolds on, first of all, so all I can see now is black. Pitch black.

Then they put all of us  into a van, I think and drive us somewhere, some abandoned tracks. Blindfolded we had to cross it, we could've asked for help, but those helps had a cost. A secret, not ours though, the other players', which is more difficult then simply telling our own.

Luckily for me I didn't need them, I recognise the place, by the noise and the smell. Sometimes I used to go there to paint alone, so I knew how to move around and I made it.

Also pushed by the intense desire of taking of that damn blindfold.

After the challenge Dodge offered to drive me home as always.

"Heather is still not answering" I tell him as he drives.

Heather wasn't at the challenge, she didn't tell us anything, not to me nor Natalie and now she's not answering her phone.

"I'm sure she's fine. I saw her talking to Bishop earlier at the party. Try him" he suggests.

"Yeah.. yeah.." I nod.

As I'm texting Bishop asking him if he knows anything, I feel Dodge's hand on my thigh, squeezing.

"Don't worry. I'm sure everything is fine, okay? Breath" he tells me sweetly.

I just nod, I didn't notice my breath getting heavier.

"He's saying something happened with her sister... he doesn't know much more" I say. "He also say to wait till tomorrow and see how it goes"

"Okay. That's what we'll do. I know you're worried, but try not to think about it, for now. Okay?" He softly says.

"Yeah.. sure." I weakly smile at him.

We arrive in front of my house, but I don't move an inch to get out of the car just yet.

I really don't want to stay alone tonight...

"Wanna stay over?" I ask, rather quickly.

"What?" He asks confused.

"Do you... do you want to stay over?" I ask again, slower.

"You mean to sleep or hang out?"

"To sleep" I reply.

"Gladly" he says.

I turn to look at him kill the engine and with him I get out of the car and walk to the front door.

"I can sleep on the couch if you're more comfortable." He offers "so I'd still be here, but-"

"No.. no it's fine really.. I really don't want to be alone tonight" I say, looking down and fidgeting with my hands.

He comes closer, holding my hands.

"Let's get to bed, okay?" He kisses my forehead and lead me to my room, where I change and lend him some old shorts he could fit it.

We're laying in bed, my head is resting on his chest and his left arm is around me while his right hand is holding my fidgeting one.

"Something else happened or it was just the blindfold?" He carefully asks.

"Just the blindfold" I answer.

He simply holds me closer and rubbing my back sweetly.

"You made it, though. You've been so brave." He gently reassures me.

"I was shaking like a freaking chihuahua" I complain.

"But you still made it."

"It wasn't that hard, apart from the darkness obviously. That's the place I used to go to paint. I recognised it and simply...counted" I explain.

"My smart girl" he chuckles.

"Oh shush"

"It's true, so smart and so brave." He leans down to kiss me. "My beautiful" kiss "smart" kiss "brave girl"

"You're being very cheesy, you know that?" I chuckle.

"You still didn't push me away so I guess you like it, at least a little bit"

Yes.

"No" I say.

"Mh mh yeah sure, you can't lie to me." He says, triumphantly, laying back down.

True.

"That's not true"

"Oh so you mean you lie to me? I'm hurt" he says dramatically. 

"Oh shut up you know what I mean" I laugh smacking him.

"I know I know" he says laughing too. "Stop hitting me" he grabs my hand, gently, kissing it and putting it back on his chest.

We stay like this for a moment.

"Thank you" I say.

"For what?" He asks.

"For.. everything. Staying the night, comforting me, making me laugh... everything" I tell him.

"You do the same for me. Everyday. It's the least I can do, love"

Love.

Did he just call me 'love' .

" 'love' ?" I ask.

"You don't like it?" He asks, almost afraid he said the wrong thing. "Too cheesy?"

"Actually.. no.." I smile at him "it's nice"

I kiss him and then lay down again.

He lets out a sigh of relief. 

"Goodnight, love" he says.

"Goodnight, Dodge"

With that we fall asleep in each other's arms.

It feels nice to have someone with me, not being alone in this big house for once.

This morning, Natalie texted me, saying she got a hold on Heather, we're meeting at hers.

I'm worried about what could've happened to her to make her disappear like that last night.

"We tried calling you a milioni times." Natalie says.

"Yeah, I know I know. But.. Lily needed me. My mom and Bo we're fighting" she explains weakly. 

I feel my heart breaking thinking about Lily, she must've felt so scared..

"I know.  I'm out of the game. What happened last night?" Heather asks.

"The challenge was different this year" Natalie explains, looking briefly at me. "They put us in blindfolds and loaded us into a van and they took us to an old train bridge. One by one we had to find our way back. We could ask for help, ten steps in the right direction, but only if we answered their questions."

"What we're the questions?" Heather eyebrows furrow.

"Secrets" I simply say.

"Yeah.. but not ours" Natalie completes for me.

"They basically played us against each other.. very Panic-ish.. or just a shit move. We are already competing against each other.. this is.. ridiculous" I say sighing.

I recall my turn perfectly.

Walking, counting each steps, luckily I remembered the place perfectly so I knew where to stop.

Also Diggins anxious breath helped, I gotta admit.

"You sure... you sure you're okay?" He kept asking me.

"Oh me? All fine. I could even do a flip... maybe a double flip. What do you think?" I asked, joking to ease my nerves.

"Told you already, do not push it" he said

"If you don't want a sarcastic answer then don't fucking ask" I dryly said "I got a fucking blindfold on, I can see shit. It's fucking dark. Of course I'm not okay"

He knew I wasn't actually mad at him, I was just anxious because of the blindfold.

"There's my princess" he joked too.

"Better." I said.

Too dark, too fucking dark.

I had to keep reminding myself that I was safe, I wasn't in the closet anymore. Yeah... I was on a not-stable-at-all train bridge, but better than the closet.

Also, luckily for me, Diggins was there.

So I just kept walking and counting, putting an end to this stupid challenge as quickly as possible.

"Y/n got through, rather quickly, I might add" Natalie's voice snaps me out of my memories. 

She sends me a small proud smile, which I return.

"I was so scared, I could hardly stand up straight." She continues.

"But you made it, right?" Heather asks, worried.

"I had to answer some questions..." she admits

"What questions?" I ask.

"They.. they asked me about Shawna" she simply says.

"Shawna? Why?"

"I don't know " she shrugs. "Ray was the first one to get back"

"So quickly?" Heather wonders.

"Yeah. I'm sure he had no problems in spilling someone else's tea" I say.

"What... what if he said something? About me hooking up with Tyler. He surely told him.. I don't want Bishop to find out.. but they wouldn't care about me, though, right? Like.. the judges wouldn't ask about me if I'm out of the game, right?" Heather's getting nervous

"I don't know" Natalie replies.

"I have to talk to Tyler"

"Hey, it's okay" I try to reassure her.

"It's just not fair" Natalie says. "You should be in the final four... not Ray.. he might've gotten through all the challenges but you deserves the chance"

"Hey.. maybe you can ask the judges for an exception" I suggest "Don't you still have your immunity?"

"Yeah, but you have to use it before the challenge starts" she explains. 

"Fuck"

"Just talk to Diggins" Natalie suggests. "We've come as far as a team. We can do this."

What a player..

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Obbligato (Chapter Seven)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Off to the races with no time for nights gone wrong. Being at a wit's end deserves a reward, one of teasing breaths and words, adding to the stories the hallway could tell. Vulnerable words pinned to the wall and kissing it all better.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 7187

***

The morning was awkward, to say the least. Y/n had woken up first and before she could even look at the man beside her, her phone started ringing, management was calling. So she was off to work. No time for the thoughts that were still running around in her mind. No time to process.

They didn’t get to talk, she and Damiano. Both of them were hurrying to get packed up and get the others woken up to then get to the airport. It seemed impossible to find a quiet minute with just the two of them, some privacy, some peace of mind. The call from that morning was their manager, who had already been up for two hours ranting about some of the changes that needed to be made. Today it was going from zero to one hundred with no end in sight.

She had hoped things would calm down as they reached the airport, but chaos seemed to follow wherever they went. It started with Victoria panicking because she couldn’t locate her jacket anymore - she made sure to let everyone in the greater vicinity know that it was her absolute favourite and she had worn it in Rotterdam and she could not go anywhere, much less fly to London, without it. Luckily this ended up being one of Y/n’s easiest tricks that day. After retracing their steps throughout the terminal the jacket was quickly reclaimed from a lovely barista at a café who had collected it for safekeeping.

Y/n was hoping to catch her breath for a moment, but then Chili was being an absolute nuisance. Contrary to her normally chill and relaxed state of being, she now insisted on being cuddled and petted and having all the attention on her. Unfortunately, no one’s but Y/n’s attention would do, so she was stuck with a wriggling fur ball in her arms for the foreseeable future. It didn’t help when Ethan ran up to her in a panic, having realised that his hairbrush was missing. She wanted to calm him down, explain that there were more than enough shops to get a new one in London, but apparently, there was no hairbrush quite like it as if it was the magical reason behind his shiny hair. So with a sigh and Chili pressed against her, she called the hotel in Amsterdam requesting for them to look for the missing item and please send it to London. Express. They would be there for three days and it better arrive during that time. The confused receptionist promised to do her best.

When Y/n heavily fell into her seat on the plane she was looking forward to either a quick nap or a chance to talk to Damiano, who she conveniently chose to sit next to, but all plans evaporated as soon as Thomas claimed the aisle seat, excitedly chattering away. She could tell he was looking forward to getting back to London and having some free time there on top of it, but she really didn’t need to hear the story of how they all lived there for a while yet again. Damiano sent her a pitiful look, but all she could do was shrug. Shrug, lean back, and let Thomas’ talk lure her into sleep, hopefully.

***

Luckily, the flight wasn’t as bad this time around. Y/n still held tightly to her coat on lift-off and landing, but that seemed to be the extent of her uncomfortableness. Damiano kept his eyes on her, on the bandage around her wrist, as if waiting for it to come undone and her right along with it. It didn’t happen. They touched down in London within less than an hour.

Heathrow airport was crowded with fans. For the first time on that tour, it had gotten really bad. Security managed to keep people at bay though as the band and crew made their exit, not stopping for photos and full of apologies for having to leave. The shouting, the reaching hands, and the flashing cameras seemingly did nothing to improve Y/n’s mood, Damiano thought. Her face remained neutral, but he could see the little signs underneath. A short cab ride later, and the usual busy atmosphere of arriving at a hotel for the first time engulfed them. People moving luggage, figuring out rooming arrangements, crowding the lobby. Damiano stayed out of it, smoking a quick cigarette with Thomas and Ethan outside, before heading inside as well.

Damiano didn’t notice that anything was wrong until Y/n started raising her voice. It wasn’t like her. In the past two weeks of working with her, he had encountered her in a number of stressful situations. Enough that would make him lose his mind, but she was calm and collected, the type to take a deep breath instead of shouting at someone. So the way she was currently staring down the receptionist at the hotel that they were checking into both intrigued and bothered him. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself, he got closer to the scene, fumbling with some of their luggage standing next to the desk, just to listen in more closely.

“Check again, please,” Y/n requested, politeness nothing but a necessary feature in this conversation. “I do not have the time or the patience to deal with this mistake at this current moment.”

Damiano could see she was at her wit’s end, yet the need to stay professional was obvious.

“Bloody hell... You’d think after all of today at least one thing would go well. But no, I am stuck dealing with a broken computer and missing rooms.”

The man behind the counter sent her a slightly panicky look, hands shuffling between papers and typing on the keyboard in front of him.

“I can only apologise, I will do my absolute best to rectify this mistake,” the receptionist stated, voice much less steady than Y/n’s. She shook her head slightly, pulling out her phone and starting to type something into it. Probably updating their manager on what is happening.

“I sincerely hope that this is the last of the mistakes your hotel will be committing. We’re paying good money for this hotel, but London is big and I don’t think anyone would hesitate to book us somewhere else next time if the service here doesn’t suffice.” The air around her felt like static electricity, everything was prickly and on fire. “Now, please check again and then either have the correct number of rooms waiting for us or figure out another way to solve this problem. I know this probably isn’t your fault, but this needs a solution.”

The man standing in front of them quickly understood what was being asked of him. Y/n's body had remained creepily still through this, her eyes never leaving the person in front of her.

It was over as soon as it hard started. The receptionist handed her the keys and quickly mumbled something about the rooms being on the fifth floor and to the left. Y/n nodded, not necessarily happy, but visibly glad it was over. Turning around she faced Dami with an indescribable look on her face. He couldn’t believe what just happened, and how it was handled by their assistant. Looking at her right now she was agitated, sure, but whatever power she had just possessed? Damiano wanted to see it again.

***

The band crowded into the lift, and with each ding passing a floor Damiano’s need to do something grew. Attention was an easy thing for the singer to come by. Most of the time it was freely given and even then tenfold due to - well, Damiano being Damiano. But wanting attention was different, and wanting her attention, in particular, was a relatively new concept.

“Fifth Floor,” the monotone voice announced. Y/n made quick work handing everyone their room keys until she was only hanging to her own and Damiano’s. He took his chance.

“Can I walk you to your room?”

“Sure,” she answered, but the look in her eyes told him she was a little suspicious of his actions.

As they got closer to the door Damiano saw his chance. Reassuring himself that the hallway was now deserted of his bandmates, he quickly grabbed her - healthy! - wrist, turning her around and pressing her against the wall next to the door. Her expression was one of shock and surprise as he moved in closer, keeping her wrist against the wall and trapping her between his arms as he leaned against his hand on the other side of her head. Her breathing quickened noticeably and he couldn’t suppress a grin as he watched her look into his eyes, before flickering down to his lips and back up again. There was very little doubt concerning what she was thinking about. He had her in the palm of his hand. Right where he wanted her.

“You know, seeing you getting all hot and bothered down there… Very sexy.” His voice was low and gravelly. He was doing his absolute best to get her to falter under him, not shying away from employing all the tricks in the book. He moved in even closer now, only breaking eye contact when the angle made it impossible. His mouth to her ear, not quite touching, but close enough that he was sure she could feel his breath on her skin. “I should thank you… for all the… hard work you do.”

He resisted the temptation of pushing into her, letting his body collide with hers, letting her know exactly what he was talking about. Not now, not yet, he told himself. Instead, his hand carefully let go of her wrist, travelling down her arm, her side, across her body, with the softest touch, until he reached her other hand, which was grasping tightly onto the remaining room key. In a flash, he had snatched it out of her palm, backed away from her, and with a wink and a smirk that hopefully told her all she needed to know, he turned around to make his way to his room.

“Damiano! We still need to talk!” Y/n whisper-shouted. One look at her face was enough. Her skin had turned that favorable shade of red that Damiano had grown to love so much. She was still leaning against the wall, apparently not trusting her feet to carry her just yet. As he made his way to his room he couldn’t help but notice the bubbling of pride in his chest. Whatever she wanted to talk about, he was convinced it was going to go his way.

***

There was one person in this entire world that would be able to help sort out the mess in Y/n’s head. Stepping out onto the balcony, she quickly clicked her best friend’s name. One, two rings, and the familiar face popped up on her screen with a wide smile.

“Hi, love! How- oh my god, what is wrong?” Y/n’s face had always been much too easy to read for her friends.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Y/n protested, but the way her friend raised her eyebrows let her know that she would not get away with it. “Fine, that was a lie. Couple of things have gone wrong actually. Starting with my wrist!”

Y/n held the offending body park up into view, speech getting quicker as she continued.

“Fell onto it trying to escape Damiano and a private conversation he had with Victoria that I probably shouldn’t have heard. But I did, and I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it, and it’s bothering me quite a bit actually, which is silly, because all I’m supposed to do here is my job, right? But now I think that he doesn’t want to be in the same space as me, which is a problem, to say the least, but at the same time he does? He literally just got all up in my space actually, so I don’t know what’s happening?”

“Wow okay, take a breath and start from the beginning, please.”

And so Y/n did, catching her friend up on every single detail of the past days, every little look, every single word uttered, every movement made. She didn’t spare a single detail or blush-inducing moment.

“I don’t know what to do, or think, or say. I think I know what is happening, but then he turns around and does the opposite of what I’m expecting. It's infuriating.”

“Ah yes, let me guess. He’s constantly around, whatever you do? Checkin up on your, catching your eyes, always happens to sit next to you?”

“He does… Why do I feel like everyone here knows what is going on but me?”

"Y/n, listen. You're my best friend, but you're the dumbest human being I've ever encountered. It is so obvious that he likes you, it's almost painful to hear you talk about and not realise. Look at the way he is taking care of you, the way he tries to make you laugh, how he constantly wants your attention on him - why on earth do you think he's doing that? You need to talk to him, seriously."

“But I overheard-”

"You didn't hear shit! You don't even know the context of what he said! Now listen to me: You like him. He likes you. If I'm wrong about this, I'll personally allow you to come back home and beat me up ok?" A sigh came through the line, her friend's voice getting softer. "I know the past years have been hard on you. And I know you don't like letting people in. But you've got to take a chance every now and then and Damiano sounds like he'll be worth it. From what you've told me, it sounds like he sees you exactly for what you are: brilliant, clever, caring, beautiful. Don't let this go to waste, love."

"You know I hate it when you're right. But you probably are." Y/n felt much calmer already, even though the mere thought of having that talk with Damiano made her feel slightly queasy again. "I should talk to him. My head will never stop spinning otherwise."

"Well, I love it when I'm right! So I'm hanging up right now so you can go talk to him, bye love!"

Her face disappeared from the screen in an instant.

***

“She’s right, you know? You should talk to him.” Victoria watched as Y/n almost jumped at the sound of her voice. She had concentrated so hard on whoever she was video-calling that she hadn’t noticed her enter the balcony next door. Now, Vic hadn’t meant to listen, but privacy on tour was a fickle thing and as soon as she realised what - or who - the topic of conversation was, she couldn’t help herself.

“Oh! Hi, Vic. Sorry, what?” Y/n asked, quite obviously startled. “I’m assuming you heard most of that conversation then.”

“I did. But that’s okay, please don’t worry about it. You know, I’m saying this as your friend as well as Damiano’s friend: Talk this thing out, whatever it is. We’ve all been watching you dance around each other, but one of you needs to have the guts to make a move. I know Damiano seems like a cocky know-it-all sometimes, but if you get down to it, he’s just as insecure and shy. So I think this is on you. Invite him over, order some room service, have a talk. If it goes poorly, you can always text me and I’ll come over. And help you finish the food.”

Victoria was glad to see Y/n let out a small giggle. Over the course of the whole tour, she had never seen her quite this stressed out. Sooner or later it would impact her job performance - just as it was starting to affect Damiano’s. She’d long noticed how distracted he was. It didn’t even matter whether Y/n was in the room or not, his thoughts constantly seemed to be spinning around the same thing. The same person, rather. At this point, it was in everyone’s best interest to get these two to talk it out. She trusted them to be sensible enough about it not to let it affect their work if it went wrong. At least not the way their mutual obsession with each other was doing now.

Y/n nodded.

“Thanks, Vic. What do I have to lose, right? I mean, a lot, technically, but you know. Thanks.”

Victoria watched as Y/n shot her one more worried look, before turning and getting back to her room. She made sure to shout after her just before the door closed.

“Tell me how it goes!”

***

“It’s going to be fine, it’s going to be fine, this is going to go my way, I’m going to say my part and it will all be fine,” Y/n mumbled to herself as she paced back and forth in her hotel room. Time and time again, she found herself checking her phone, needing to convince herself she had actually sent the message to Damiano, inviting him to her room for a conversation. He hadn’t replied, but the little blue check marks told her he had read it.

Okay, keep calm. You're going to have a conversation about this, like the adults that you are. You ask to clarify what you overheard and you'll stay calm, whatever his answer is. At the end of the day, this is work. And if you need to cry, you can do it once he's left. Easy.

A knock on the door interrupted her thought process. For a moment, she considered ignoring it. Pretending like she wasn’t there. But that wasn’t going to work, was it? Not forever, anyway.

“Y/n, you said you wanted to talk?” Damiano’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Time to face the music, I guess, Y/n thought to herself. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped to the side to let him in. Damiano hesitated for a second, as if contemplating how to greet her, but then simply smiled at her before stepping in. The nervous energy engulfed both of them immediately and she caught him looking around the room for a moment before deciding to take a seat at the foot of her bed. She couldn’t even think about sitting down. Instead, she was pacing the room like a caged animal.

“Um, so, I called you here for a meeting.” Y/n picked at her nails looking anywhere in the room that wasn’t at Damiano.

“A meeting? Y/n, really?” He chuckled. “If these meetings involve me visiting your hotel room, feel free to invite me over for them more often.”

“Damiano! I’m trying to be serious here!”

“Sorry, sorry, go ahead.” He waved at her to continue as he leaned back on the bed. He looked delectable, and Y/n had to actively tear her eyes away to focus on what she had meant to talk about with him.

“I overheard you and Vic talking at the second-hand shop. Something about you not wanting me around? Before I overthink this even more than I already have, I should probably ask you what that was about.” She stopped pacing and quickly looked at Damiano waiting for a reaction.

“Wait, you heard that?” He suddenly sat up again, urgency visible in his face. “Did you hear the whole thing or… only me saying that?”

“Only that apparently ‘I'm everywhere you look’ and you can’t seem to get rid of me.” She forced a scoff, although she would rather cry at the memory if she was being honest. “I know I shouldn’t have heard that conversation, but I did. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. That's why I ran out of the shop.”

She watched as Damiano buried his head in his hands, making a sound that was something between a laugh and a groan. “Seems like you missed the important part.” A deep sigh rattled through his chest as he looked up at her. “What I said before that was that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About kissing you. That’s why it’s so hard to see you everywhere, to have you around so much.” He slowly stood up, walking over to her in tentative movements. “It’s because I want to kiss you all the time.”

She took a step back, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Anything to protect herself, to keep up some sort of composure. Letting her guard down too early was the worst thing she felt she could do. An expression that was both alarmed and confused flashed across her face. “You - wait … no, that's not - hold on.” She squinted her eyes at him trying to figure out if there was any hint of deception in him. “You wouldn’t lie to me… would you?”

He stood in front of her now, eyes staring her down with nothing but honesty. “I like to joke around but not with things like these, okay? I would never put you in that position. But when we accidentally kissed in Amsterdam? I wish it hadn’t been accidental at all.” His hand was reaching out to her, softly touching her arm, as if to test the waters. To see if she would pull away.

She stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity. Yet, she didn’t move away from him this time. “I’m sorry... for how I acted at the hospital. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do with you most of the time it seems.” A small smile flickered on her lips, unable to keep it at bay. “I’m sorry, I’m… not all that good at being vulnerable. In case that hadn’t become obvious yet. But I agree, you know. Kissing you should be on purpose.”

“It’s fine, it was a rough day. Now that I know what you heard, even more so for you,” he smiled back at her. His hand was wandering up her arm now, softly resting on her shoulder, just inches away from the bare skin on her neck. She was sure she could feel his warmth there already. “We’ll figure it out together, yeah? Starting with an actual kiss? On purpose?”

She blinked at him, before looking down at his chest, slowly grabbing onto the collar of his shirt. Playing the fabric between her fingers, anything to keep her nervousness under control. “Yeah, that would be good. Gotta test it out, right?” She looked back up at him, a pink tint growing across her cheeks.

“Yeah, just a test,” he mumbled, coming closer still. His hand wandered further upwards, tingling along her bare skin, before softly grabbing her neck to pull her into him. He was moving slowly, almost tormentingly so, as his breath fanned her face, eyes wandering back and forth between her own and her mouth. Her heart was beating impossibly fast now. If he wasn’t going to do anything soon, she would collapse, she was sure of it.

“Just kiss me already.”

And then his lips were on hers, soft and gentle, but with a force behind it that let her know he meant it. It was nothing like the kiss in Amsterdam. This was a kiss with purpose, long-lived desire finally being realised, feeling poured into every move they made. If this was a test, they were passing it with flying colours. Everything felt simply right. His lips against hers, his hand tangling in her hair, her arms wrapping themselves around him. Any doubt whether this was the right thing to do, whether this was what she wanted, ceased to exist. She couldn’t tell how long they were standing there, kissing, exploring, enjoying each other, but when they finally parted, she found herself catching her breath. Silly smiles painted on both of their faces. She buried her face in his chest, almost a little embarrassed now.

“That went well,” she giggled, unlike she did in Amsterdam. This high was different.

Damiano’s hand pushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear, tender touch lasting on her face a little too long, but she wouldn’t complain. He quickly pressed another needy kiss against her lips, before pulling her to sit on the bed with him. “So, now what? Not that I wasn’t enjoying that, but we should probably talk about where we’re gonna go from here.”

She nodded. “Well, work comes first. Not that I wasn’t having fun either. But, both of us know that the most important thing is you performing the best you can. I guess we go with your plan. Figure it out together. I don’t want to force anything.” Always trying to ground herself back into reality - it was the way she was built. A moment of insanity, yes, but never more. “Though, on days off… if you...” Her mouth opened but no more words came.

“I like the sound of that,” Damiano grinned, seemingly unable to stop himself from stealing another kiss from her lips. “And on days off...? Say it, Y/n, no need for shyness here.”

“Ah!” Grabbing a pillow off the bed, she smacked him playfully. “I was trying to have a semi-serious conversation here, Dami!” Her face screwed into a pout, before transforming into a teasing smile. “If you’re gonna be like that, you won’t hear my idea at all.”

He immediately let go of her, hands in the air in surrender. “Fine, woman, no more teasing from me… for now.”

She leaned in closer. “Is that a threat? Or a promise? I was gonna say we could go out on a date. But,” she shrugged, “up to you.” Standing up she walked over to the phone on the desk, picking up the room service menu with her other hand. “Do you want anything? If we are gonna figure this out, we might as well have food.” It was no secret that she was trying to create space between the two of them. A little distance, a little chance to breathe, too afraid of a fire being set ablaze if they stayed any closer.

“Whatever pizza they have, please. It won’t quite be like home but even bad pizza is still pizza.” He watched as she picked up the phone, quickly muttering some words he didn’t understand down the line. “And then come back here. We should probably talk some more.”

She nodded, quickly finishing the conversation on the line, before sitting back down on the bed next to him, backs resting against the headboard. “Alright, so, talk about what? I know there are things to discuss but, what are you thinking right now?”

“How do you want to go on about this?” He asked, taking her hand and playing with it absentmindedly. “Do you want to tell the others anything?”

“We have to tell Vic, probably. She’ll never get off our case otherwise. Apart from that... I assumed that we would sort of make up for lost time. Be a bit more open, affection-wise. Or at least not feel like we have to hide it when I wanna kiss you. I don’t want to say we are dating. I don’t want to put a label on something that's this new. Rushing into something like this is just a recipe for hurt.” She found herself staring into the distance for a moment, thoughts running away with her, before turning back to him. “Do you want to tell people? I mean if you did that would be fine. I’d manage, you know.”

“No, actually. I’m quite fine with as few people knowing as possible. I just… There’s no need to get everyone involved in something that we’re literally still figuring out ourselves, right? And I definitely don’t need the fans to know. At least not yet. If that’s okay with you?”

“Dami, you do know that, if this becomes a long-term thing... They will hate me. It won’t be just your fans either. Management, event organisers, they won’t want me there, people will tell you to break up with me all the time. There will be a lot of rude comments. People will edit me out of pictures. Because that's how it is. Are you sure you’re okay with all that? This won’t be easy and I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your success. The band's success.” She wasn’t making eye contact now, nervously picking at her nails instead. This was his chance to step back, to change his mind, and she was more afraid of it than she let on.

“Well, first of all, they can all fuck off, okay? No one gets to talk about you like that, not in front of me. If they don’t see you the way that I see you - or at least respect it-, they’re no real fans anyway.” He reached out, softly holding onto her chin and turning her face towards him. “I don’t care about anyone but you in this, okay? If anything, you’re the one pushing me to go farther, work harder, be better. Yeah?”

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” Her hand went to the one holding her face, kissing his palm and then pressing it into her cheek. “I mean it though. It will be hard and confusing, and I am not that good at communicating my feelings. You could have anyone in the world and you picked me which I will never understand, but I’m thankful for it. Both of us are workaholics. It won’t just be you having a busy schedule. Are you absolutely positive? Because if not...”

Taking her face into both of his hands now, he made sure she was looking at him. “I am more than positive. I want this, I want you, I want it all. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes for you to believe that.” He pressed another kiss to her lips, warm and inviting, and she was sure she could feel every single one of his emotions in it. There was nothing but love. Coming up for air, they let their foreheads meet, a moment of unspoken agreement.

“We will do it together, yeah?” She whispered as she pressed a kiss onto his lips once again before her face broke out in a grin. “Fuckin hell… Sorry, I just realized that we can kiss and hug and everything all the time now and without it being weird.” Grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers, she rested her head on his shoulder. Both of them simply content in the silence of the room and the company of each other. After a while, Y/n looked up at him again. “Do you have any concerns though?”

“No real worries. Just... I don’t know. I just want to stare at you for a bit. Do you even know how crazy you make me? Throughout this whole tour I have been losing my mind!” His eyes flickered over her face, down her body, and back up. He kissed the top of her head. “Y/n you have no clue what you do to me. You remember when you body checked that guy into the wall in Germany?” She nodded as he lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “Cold showers did nothing for me that night.”

Giggles rattled her chest as she hid her face in her hand, feeling a slight blush coming on.

“Hey, no hiding that face from me!” Grabbing at her hands, he tried to pull them back down, but she resisted through her laughter. Desperately trying to pry her hands away, Damiano pinned her down onto the bed, back flush against the mattress, but he still wasn’t succeeding. In a last-ditch effort, he straddled her ample hips. The surprise of it all had her removing her hands on her own immediately, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Now, was that so hard?”

In one quick move, she locked her knees under his and flipped him over, making her sit on top of him. His body thudded into the mattress, jaw dropping, and a little hint of a blush appearing out of nowhere.

“Sorry love, won’t happen again,” she grinned, sending him another wink, before getting off of the stunned singer.

Y/n jumped up off the bed and started to rummage through the mini-fridge. Behind her, she heard the unmistakable sound of Damiano’s phone vibrating. And again. And again.

“What’s going on with that thing?” She asked over her shoulder, unable to hide a grin. Damiano sighed heavily, reading through the messages that seemed to keep coming.

“It’s Vic.”

“What’s she saying?”

Another buzzing sound interrupted them.

“Asking if we’re making out yet. Letting us know that she can hear us laughing. Wanting to know if we’ve fucked yet. Complaining that I’m not answering her messages.”

Damiano’s speech was, in turn, interrupted by Y/n’s phone letting out a similar buzzing noise. With a frown on her face, she gathered it from the nightstand, only to erupt into giggles at the message displayed on her screen.

“What’s so funny?”

“Vic has written, and I quote: ‘As happy as I am that this seems to be going well, I was actually looking forward to indulging in room-service food with you’ with a lot of frowny emojis added.”

Forming a fist with his hand, Damiano roughly hit the wall behind him - the one he knew connected the room to Victoria’s.

“Go get your own room service!” He shouted, and the laughter on the other side, paired with a flurry of emojis reaching both of their phones shortly after let them know she had heard.

“Oh stop it, whatever will you do without a bassist if she starves!” Y/n laughed. “Wait, how’s this.” Y/n coughed, preparing to change her voice into the best impression of Victoria she could muster. “Dami, you bastardo! Give me food!”

A knock on the door - much too polite to be Victoria’s - caught their attention, and Y/n scrambled to open it. A little wagon full of silver plates adorned with various meals greeted her. Not even caring about the confused look on the waiter’s face, she made quick work of grabbing most of what was on the tray and carrying it over to the desk, until only a few things were left.

“Would you mind bringing the rest to the woman next door? Thank you very much.”

As soon as she had closed the door behind her, she caught Damiano’s gaze, wide smile on his face.

“Whatever it takes to make Vic happy, hm?”

Y/n grinned. “Whatever it takes to get Vic to leave us alone.”

***

Y/n had no idea where she was when she woke up the next morning. It only lasted for a moment though - until it all came crashing down on her, the talk with Damiano, the kisses they'd shared, how they had spent the rest of the evening watching trash tv and stuffing themselves with food, until he had left for his own room, placing one last lingering kiss on her lips. She couldn't contain a smile at the memories. For a minute, she allowed herself to lay in bed, reminiscing about the way his mouth felt on hers and how she was now allowed to do that all the time. But work called, and the usual routine caught up with her. Getting ready for the day, re-checking the busy plan for the day, waking up the band. It was only in front of Damiano's room that she faltered a bit, before shaking it off and entering.

Damiano looked peaceful, fast asleep, the blanket only coming up to his waist. With quiet footsteps, she walked over to the bed, taking the view in for as long as she allowed herself. Her usual wake-up tricks would include pulling back curtains, gently talking, stealing blankets, a little shake if necessary. But the turn of their relationship was now providing her with new possibilities. Leaning down, she blew a bit of air against his cheek, watching as his eyelids fluttered but not quite opened yet. A little kiss followed on his cheek, just barely touching his skin. Then a kiss on his inviting lips. She almost pulled back, when a strong hand held onto the back of her head, Damiano suddenly wide awake and kissing her back.

"I could get used to these wake-up calls."

“Well, be a good boy and get dressed and you might be getting them more often,” she grinned, already halfway out the door. She knew if she didn’t leave now she probably wouldn’t for a while, and they did not have time for any delays.

“That better be a promise!” Damiano shouted after her, and she giggled, all the way back to her room, never having looked forward to a day of work quite this much.

***

The day was one of their most hectic ones yet, jumping between the hotel, the venue for soundcheck, dinner, a radio station, and back to the venue. Yet, for once, Damiano didn’t mind in the slightest. Not with the way he was now allowed to stare at Y/n all the time. No more worries about having to hide it, no more being afraid of being caught in the way his eyes kept lingering on her whenever she was nearby. Never mind the fact that he enjoyed teasing her.

He was well aware of how important her professionalism was for her, and he’d be the last person to slack off work because he was smitten. But, in the little moments in between, the waiting to go on air, the walking along a hallway, the little breaks and breathers, he simply couldn’t help himself. Especially not with the way she kept blushing and scolding him.

It was the small things. Brushing past her when he walked by. Letting his hand rest on her waist a little too long, always threatening to move lower, but never making the jump. Winking at her with the meanest smirk when the radio host asked a particularly spicy question. Texting her with the suggestion to unbutton her blouse just slightly more to keep him motivated. The latter was met with a stern look and her hands buttoning up the blouse a little more instead. Yet, throughout the day Y/n seemed to be more relaxed, while keeping up the impression of ‘everything is normal’. Well, she did the best she could when Damiano wasn’t giving her a hard time.

Victoria seemed to think it was the funniest thing in the world, constantly watching the two of them and snickering to herself. When Damiano told her to mind her own business - just for once - she only became more curious. Ethan and Thomas hadn’t caught on yet. Well, Thomas definitely hadn’t. Ethan had looked at Damiano a little strangely, eyebrows raised in question, when the singer had stared at Y/n a little too long, trying to catch her attention, but he hadn’t mentioned it.

Now it was less than an hour until showtime, everyone gathered backstage, and Damiano couldn’t remember the last time he had been quite this excited to play. London being their biggest gig on this tour certainly played a part, but the butterflies in his stomach every time he laid eyes on Y/n surely did the rest.

The dressing room was a mess, clothes everywhere, stylists and make-up artists scrambling to get their work done in time, which was proven increasingly difficult as Victoria and Thomas kept starting tickle fights. Damiano was sure the crew was ready to murder them at this point. Still waiting for his own turn to get dressed up, he let his gaze wander over to Y/n, who was sitting with Ethan, the drummer patiently painting her nails black.

“There,” he concluded. “You’re becoming more like us every single day.”

Damiano watched as she held up her hands, admiring the way the colour contrasted with her skin. Walking over to her, he let his hands rest on her shoulders as he stood behind her.

“And you’re barely even flinching anymore when one of us gets naked,” he grinned, shooting a glance at Victoria, who was running away from Thomas in a shirt and panties only. He bent down to whisper in her ear. “Unless that one of us is me, I hope.”

The smack on his arm landed harder than expected, Y/n once again a blushing mess, but Damiano couldn’t help but laugh. As long as he still had that kind of hold over her, he’d gladly make use of it.

***

Y/n took her usual seat, sending smiles to the crew and band as they readied up for the show. The crowd outside was deafening already, volume only increasing when the lights were slowly starting to dim. One by one, the band members came up to her, ready to get a last wish of good luck, but Damiano made quick work of shoving them away, giggling as he reached her first. Without a word of warning, he grabbed her head, planting a deft kiss on her lips, before letting go of her with the biggest grin on his face. Her eyes closed as soon as she felt his lips on hers, an involuntary reaction to the feeling of having him close.

“Are all of us gonna get some good-luck kisses like that now?” Victoria giggled from behind them, and Y/n couldn’t help landing yet another smack on Damiano’s arm that day.

“Nope,” he replied. “Singer privileges.”

With the proudest smile on his face he finally bounced on stage. The others quickly followed and Y/n was left in her seat, shaking her head. That man was going to be the death of her, she was sure of it. They hadn’t even gone official, and he was already clouding her mind every single second of the day. She watched him as he ran around on stage, energy higher yet than all of the other shows on that tour, thinking about how he never failed to amaze her, both as a performer and as a human being all in itself. She wasn’t quite sure what the future held for them, what the rest of this tour would bring them, but as she stared at him, she decided she was going to be fine with whatever it was. Despite her anxiety about the future, he would be there. As long as she could have a piece of him, a smile, a touch, a kiss, every now and then, she was going to be fine. Right? Watching him on stage was a blessing and a curse. She was so proud of him, of the band. As much as she loved them there still left a small voice of fear. How much was she willing to let them see? Let him see? The rest of the tour was still there, but she reminded herself of what he had told her the day before in her hotel room. They would figure it out together.

***

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