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[envydeanwrites]

Disobey

Pairing: Destiel Rating: Explicit Tags: Caning, Paddling, Punishment, BDSM, Prostate Massage, dean with a prince albert piercing, and cas using it as a leash point, bottom!Dean, Top!Cas Word Count: 1,478 Summary: Castiel smiles and hooks a finger under Dean's chin. He doesn't say anything, just plants a gentle kiss right on his lips. Just from that, Dean knows he's in for a rough time.

Read on AO3 | Written for Kinktober 2021

Dean knows he's done wrong. He's disobeyed Castiel big time — more than once — and now he's going to pay for it.

Castiel had asked him to be good and Dean had acted out trying to get a rise out of him for a harder fuck or another few minutes in the shower before he was supposed to be on show for him.

Part of him knew what he was doing, part of him wishes he'd done as he was told.

Castiel has attached the leash to Dean's Prince Albert piercing and encourages him along to the play room. There's no room here to defy him, not if he doesn't want a sore dick where the piercing is being pulled. Cas put it there himself about a year ago — one of Dean's best experiences to date — and he still has fantasies about the gentle handling, the gloves, the daunting needle and the pain that followed, all of which he jerks off to late at night when Cas is asleep next to him.

Their playroom is small, taking up half of their basement. And the door is simple, almost hidden behind the weights machine that Castiel uses religiously. It's done on purpose, so that anyone who comes down here (even though they'd have no reason to) wouldn't notice and go shopping where they didn't want to find out what's on the other side. Neither of them are ashamed of their kinks, but visiting family do not need to know for their own sakes.

Inside, Castiel pulls Dean towards the bench. It's the most expensive item in here, something that they researched and adapted to suit their needs and sizes and bought as a present for themselves for their anniversary last year. They've certainly used it enough to have justified spending so much.

Dean assumes Castiel will unleash his dick once they get to the bench, but he doesn't.

"Sir?"

Castiel smiles, and hooks a finger under Dean's chin. He doesn't say anything, just plants a gentle kiss right on his lips.

Just from that, Dean knows he's in for a rough time.

Castiel pushes him down onto the bench. His chest against one padded section, his knees spread wide against their own. He's strapped down tight, Dean can feel every cinch of the leather belts around his ankles, then calves, then thighs, around his waist, upper arms and wrists. A metal loop closes around his neck and even though he knows the outcome, he still tries to wriggle free to no avail.

The extendable pole is levelled with his face; a small protrusion at the end awaits a toy from Castiel's collection. Dean wonders briefly which one he'll go for tonight.

It turns out, it's the bright pink one. As it is, it's small and not too overwhelming, but as Castiel directs the toy into his mouth and tightens the pole in place, he inflates it until it fills Dean's mouth. He gags for a few moments before he remembers how to breathe.

The last thing that happens is Castiel tying off the leash attached to his dick to a d-ring between his knees. It tugs a little and he knows as soon as he gets hard it'll almost act like a chastity cage.

Dean's chest heaves for a few moments, trying to get a good rhythm for his breathing. It'll go out the window as soon as his punishment begins but it's worth a try.

Once he's fully strapped down and settled, Castiel crouches down in front of him. "Feeling good?"

Dean blinks twice. Yes.

"You know why you're here?" Castiel strokes a finger down Dean's cheek as he blinks twice again. "Eight with the cane, twenty three with the paddle, then we'll discuss the rest. If you come, that's fine - but it will add another one to your list. I'll be impressed though, since I've tied up your pretty little cock."

Dean grunts. He's very very aware of that fact. His dick twitches even now.

"Are you going to be good for me?" Castiel asks finally.

Dean blinks twice.

The cane is a sharp sting, one that brings welts and blood to the surface and leaves him unable to sit comfortably for a couple of days. This he earnt from disobeying a direct order. Dean doesn't have any regrets.

The first strike comes without warning. Dean tenses and flinches in his bonds. Even once it's over, he can feel the distinct line across his bare ass.

The second one drops, bringing tears to Dean's eyes as he shouts behind his gag. It crosses over the first, the place where it intersects feeling like a burst of fire.

Just six more to go. Castiel is counting above him, and the next two hit in quick succession, as do the fifth and sixth.

The seventh catches him out, just as he steadies his breathing. The eighth never comes… not until he's tugging at his bonds, desperate to escape, not until he's trying so hard to breathe around the gag and his eyes are full of tears, it doesn't come until the nerves rack up and he doesn't think he's going to get it. Only then does Castiel deal the final strike with the cane, mimicking the strike of the first and leaving Dean screaming.

A soothingly cool hand rests over his ass, and it brightens the sting.

"Are you going to disobey me again, Dean?" Castiel asks, then comes around to his front again. He lays the cane in front of Dean so he can see it.

Dean blinks once through blurry eyes. No.

"Good. Now let's see about you trying to goad me into more than you deserved. Hmm? Twenty three with the paddle."

He doesn't wait for confirmation from Dean this time, just disappears behind him. Dean feels a hand run down the back of one thigh and then the other. He braces himself as best he can.

The paddle is a dull but achy sensation. Dean tolerates a lot more from the paddle. Castiel uses it the most (which is often since Dean can't help himself but be a brat). The first couple are surprisingly gentle against the tops of his thighs, the next one's get harsher, targeting his sit spots. Two are aimed at his inner thighs, and Dean cries out. The last ones rain down on his already sore ass and tears drip from his face in a small puddle below him.

"Good boy." Castiel rubs Dean's ass, and then his back. Small calming circles as Dean cries. "You've taken that so well that I won't add any more tonight okay. You didn't even come." There's no disappointment there either.

The gag in his mouth is deflated and withdrawn, a slimy length of saliva trailing after it. Dean coughs, then swallows and runs his tongue around his mouth to wet it sufficiently again.

"Would you like to come?" Castiel asks.

Dean considers for a moment; he doubts Castiel will let him up to do so. That means he'll be tied down and it'll be longer before Cas tends to the bruises and the welts on his ass which are beginning to set as a deep ache. Then again, if he refuses now, then he won't be able to come for the rest of the night.

"Yes, please, sir."

Castiel grins and the glint in his eye suggests that Dean might regret his choice.

"I'm leaving your cock leashed to the D-ring. So I'll just be milking you dry. Which toy would you like?" Castiel holds up a large prostate massager and a ribbed dildo.

"The prostate massager, sir." Hopefully quicker and he can get off this bench and into bed with Castiel for a movie before they sleep.

Lube first, Castiel's fingers make quick work of loosening his hole. Dean's cock gets interested, leaving Dean feeling the tug at his piercing, stopping his cock from getting fully erect. The toy is inserted and the moment it nudges his prostate, Dean yells out.

Castiel is quick and efficient, grinding the toy against the sensitive gland until the pre-come drips from his cock and then a burst of semen follows, punching the air out of Dean.

A heavy exhaustion hits him and Castiel makes quick work of untying Dean and getting him upright slowly. Dean limps up the stairs and into their first floor bedroom and lands face first on the mattress.

There Castiel takes care of him. He tells him he loves him. He cleans up the wounds on his ass and settles him under the covers. Castiel switches on an old black and white western and runs a soothing hand over Dean's back until he falls asleep.

The punishment is enough to keep Dean's brat at bay for a little while, but it won't be long before Dean's back on that bench for another round.

[mtsuyas]

a, f, p && v for mitsuya ? <33

lets play the alphabet game! - mlist

↳ aftercare

aftercare with mitsuya is like going straight to heaven. he is amazing at aftercare holy shit if there was a reward he would win the top prize. he always makes sure you’re clean and the sheets are changed. expect baths with rose petals, scented candles lit around the bathroom too. he’d massage you and make sure you feel good. kisses would be peppered across your neck as he massages your back. and expect cuddles when you two get back to bed!

↳ favorite position

most definitely cowgirl. you being on top of him is something he loves the most. seeing your tits bounce right by his face while you go up and down on his cock sets him off and he prays to any god out there that he won’t cum so fast. he wants to savor the moment. it’s his favorite position because lazy sex is his thing, you grinding on his cock wearing one of his t-shirts that’s too big on you. he holds your back as you cum, making sure you don’t fall. it’s the best, in his opinion.

↳ pace

mitsuya’s pace definitely differs depending on his mood. it’s a weekend and he’s calm and relaxed, he’d go at any pace you want in order to cater to your needs. but if it’s a work day and he’s stressed, you better start praying to any god that would listen that you’ll have the ability to walk the next morning. his sewing machine broke and he needs to buy a new one? he’s fucking his anger onto you. the person he’s designing a dress for suddenly cancels? mitsuya is pounding into you so hard and fast it has you seeing stars.

↳ volume

oh my boy is a moaner for sure. he wants you to know how good you’re making him feel. mitsuya moans and whines, your name slipping from his lips numerous times. and to add on it, he’s a praiser. he constantly tells you how perfect you are and how good you feel around him. whispers of, “so good”, and “god this is heaven” constantly leave his lips when he’s with you.

— © mtsuyas 2021 : do not repost

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 20] FINAL

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, sex toys, shibari, dom!seungcheol, dirty talk, overstimulation/forced orgasms, squirting, degradation, name calling, daddy!kink, gags! 😍💕 ✨HAPPY NEW YEAR!!✨ Here’s to more fun fics in 2021! I can’t believe this is our last chapter though omg 😭 It’s been suuuuch a journey and a privilege to write this little series out! I’ve honestly thought about a camgirl/boy series for like, over a year now, and I’m glad I finally did it! I completed one of my goals! 🥺💕 2020 was definitely a wild one, but I want to thank you all so fuckin’ much for supporting me and stickin’ it out with me all year! Here’s to more in the coming year!💕 Also I was proofreading this at the dining table last night thinking my roommate wouldn’t come out of their room but they did(while I was making dinner and my hands were dirty so I couldnt close my laptop ☠️) and they walked past my laptop and now I’m convinced they saw my fucking smut fic right in the open so yes my little mini-break next week is MUCH needed cause I am ✨embarrassed✨ 🤣 I’ll still do my inbox roundup tomorrow and probably answer a bunch of small thirst posts ‘n stuff throughout the week but there won’t be any drabbles! For now, enjoy chapter 20 🥺, have a safe weekend, and remember that I love you~ ❤️🍒💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 COMPLETE

Seungcheol wakes up much earlier than you do the next morning; pressing a kiss to your forehead as you groan and snuggle deeper into your pillow.

“Baby, I need to go run some errands for a little bit, okay? Just keep sleeping, you don’t need to get up yet. But, I made breakfast and put it in the microwave for you when you decide to get up later.”

His voice is muffled and you can barely understand what he’s saying but you nod; a soft sigh on your lips when you drift back into dreamland. He takes his time getting ready, checking his phone notifications as he gets dressed and places a note on the nightstand knowing that you didn’t catch a single word he said.

‘Hey, did you get everything I asked for?’

Jimin🧍🏻: of course, who do you think I am? Jeongguk?

Jimin🧍🏻: and btw, i’m just giving you a crash course okay? We don’t really have a ton of time

Jimin🧍🏻: did you watch those tutorial videos I sent you?

‘Yeah, I did some practice on my breaks, but I guess you can tell me if I’m doing anything wrong.’

Jimin🧍🏻: okee, i’ll be waiting. Don’t get here too late!

‘I’ll be otw soon. Thanks again, Jimin.’

“Ow--damn, okay, you don’t need to tug on it so much!”

“Sorry, I’ll be careful! And why are we practicing on you anyway?! Couldn’t you just have shown me pictures or something?”

“How else will you learn if not on an actual body? It doesn’t work the same way, Seungcheol.” Jimin pauses, checking himself in the mirror. “Also, keep in mind she does have boobs so just… go slow, okay? It’s not gonna sit like this on her.”

Seungcheol blushes a crimson red; biting the inside of his cheek at how amateur he was at this.

“Okay…”

Seungcheol is gone for a lot longer than you anticipate and although he replies quickly to your texts, you can’t help but be curious about where he’d gone and what he was doing.

Especially knowing that the two of you had to film tonight and knowing that everything was up to Seungcheol.

A shiver rolls down your body at the thought and you quickly try to shake off the nerves that seem to slowly invade your body when your mind starts to wander.

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure…”

“I’m home!”

“Where have you--oh, that’s… a b-big box? Um, should I be concerned...”

Seungcheol grins, shrugging as he sets it onto the kitchen counter. “Just some supplies for tonight. I had to go pick them up from a friend but I had to make sure everything was right.” He notices the way you can’t seem to take your eyes off of the box; eyes twinkling when he makes his way towards you.

He tilts your head up to meet his in a searing kiss, lips easing into a smile when you wrap your arms around his neck and melt under his touch. You moan against his lips just before he pulls away; staring dreamily at him while his hands start to roam over your clothed body.

“We have a long night ahead of us, sweetheart. Let’s pamper you a little before then, hmm?”

j__min: ??? where’s the loverboy

j__min has donated $200

angelhan has donated $75

therealchan99 has donated $50

xcaliburDK has donated $75

xcaliburDK: is that the sybian? Haven’t seen that in a looong while

You bite your lip and nod, somewhat shy as you sit alone in front of the camera. “Seungcheol’s still… setting up but he told me to start! I’m a little nervous, to be honest…” Your eyes flit to Seungcheol who rummages through the box in the kitchen and from the angle you’re sat in, you can’t see a single thing he takes out.

Earlier, he’d cooked you your favorite meal and even took the time to give you a full body massage before the two of you cuddled on the sofa and watched a movie. To you, it seemed a little too suspiciously tame and you only found yourself more nervous when he made you drink two glasses of water and ever so quietly announced it was time to start getting ready for the camshow.

“He’s being so suspicious! He was even gone for a few hours earlier today…” You mumble; brows furrowed at the camera before checking the comments.

It still amazed you every time with how much money you and Seungcheol made from the camshows and videos and it made you feel even better knowing that everyone loved the chemistry the two of you had together. There were a lot of video requests and ideas mixed in with the comments at any given time and you were definitely ready to pitch some to Seungcheol now that you’d rebranded your channel to be a couple’s channel instead.

“Almost done, sweetheart!”

gc__koo: he told me to watch cuz he was being suspicious with me too 

gc__koo has donated $50

alphagyu97: what is he even plotting

alphagyu97: i am excited to see the sybian again tho ngl

artist8hao: pretty baby gonna squirt for us again?

universe_WZ: hell fuckin yea let us see how fuckin wrecked you get on that machine

You feel your pussy clench around emptiness at their comments; already feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter with the anticipation.

Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and Seungcheol walks towards the bed with a wide smile and the same box in hand. “Ready?” You can only nod back slowly, watching as he dumps the contents of the box right next to your body.

gc__koo: oy

chwenon: oh shit

sleepy_wonu: oh baby, you’re in for it now

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

Your entire body fills with warmth as you look over the various objects; unsure of where to really look first. “I, um--”

A stack of red ropes sits next to a small bullet vibrator that sits next to a ball gag that sits next to a pair of EMT shears and your eyes immediately flit up to Seungcheol who only smirks back at your shocked expression. “I had some other toys I wanted to use but I figured I should go easy on you, y’know? Since you showed me some mercy last night.”

Nodding, you reach out towards the ropes, touching them shyly. “Why red?”

“Thought they’d be on theme for you, babygirl.”

Seungcheol takes his time; remembering Jimin’s words when he tugs the ropes around your wrists.

“Colour, babygirl?”

“G-green… daddy…”

He nods, sitting up on his knees behind you as you sit on the sybian and face the camera. You bite your lip, somewhat embarrassed that you were already soaking the toy underneath you as Seungcheol worked to bind your arms behind you.

“D--daddy, where did you l-learn this?” You whisper, somewhat curious if this had anything to do with why he was gone for so long earlier in the day.

“Mm, daddy’s friend Jimin was kind enough to help me get the tools and teach me a few tricks to make sure I kept my babygirl safe. Wasn’t that kind of him?” You nod gently, gulping when you shift atop the machine slightly in hopes of relieving some of the growing sexual tension in your body. “Why don’t you thank him properly, sweetheart?”

Your hazy eyes make eye contact with the camera, head tilted slightly. “T-thank you, J-Jimin… for--for helping daddy…”

j__min: omg a shoutout ive made it

kitty_junjun: we never thought we’d see the day

tangerine_kwan: and here we all thought you were gonna be the bad guy huh

hoshi_tiger_xx: like when u only see previews of the book online but the rest of it is different ykwim

Seungcheol makes sure your arms are bound snug enough but not too tight; leaning away slightly to admire his rope work. “Feeling okay so far, babygirl?”

Nodding, you whine back slightly. “Y-yes, daddy… But… my--my pussy wants s-something…” He laughs in return, readjusting so that he’s sitting on your side this time to give himself easier access to start the rest of the bindings.

“Is that so? You’re gonna have to be a little more patient this time ‘cause daddy’s not done yet.” He starts working on the rest of the harness; going slow and checking in with you often to make sure none of the ropes were digging into your skin or making you uncomfortable. “You’ll have to forgive me a little though, I’m admittedly a ‘lil inexperienced so our pretty babygirl is only going to be tied up in this pretty harness for tonight.”

gentleman_josh95: the fact u even took the time to learn just for her

gentleman_josh95 has donated $100

artist8hao: seriously, the dedication

kitty_junjun: we stan a man who knows safety and etiquette 

Comments of reassurance and donations flood in at Seungcheol’s small apology and although the two of you are in your own world; you can tell from just the amount of pings coming from your laptop that they all seemed to be encouraging him.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as Seungcheol continues to move around you on the bed to finish the harness and a smile graces his lips when he starts to secure the last knots in the back. He can’t help but mentally pat himself on the back at how neatly he’d done it for his first time.

“There. All done, baby.”

Your eyes flit to the laptop’s screen to see yourself; cheeks hot when you see how fucked out you already look and he hadn’t even touched you properly or turned on the machine.

The star harness Seungcheol had tied looks pretty with red ropes and you can’t hide your smile at how good it looks on you too either. “Ah, daddy made it really p-pretty… Thank you.”

This time, Seungcheol nods, letting you admire yourself as he silently reaches for the small remote for the sybian, switching it on.

Your entire body lurches forward as soon as the vibrations attack your clit and you immediately find yourself moaning and grinding down onto the machine as he gives you some relief.  

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Now let’s really have some fun, huh?”

You need to cum.

Badly.

“Awww, is my pretty baby drooling? Does it feel that good on your sensitive ‘lil clit?” He teases, smoothing down your hair as you cry around the ball gag in your mouth; drool seeping out from the side of your lips when he raises the vibrations a setting higher.

You don’t know how many times he’d played with the settings and edged you by now, but all you do know is that the urge to cum only grows stronger as you grind against the machine, soaking it with your wetness as you chase the pleasure building up in your body again.  

Surely cumming was okay, right? He never said you couldn’t.

You whimper around the ball gag, eyes fluttering shut when the tension in your body snaps in the blink of an eye and your thighs clamp down onto the sides of the machine. Throwing your head back, you moan against the gag and ride out your high as Seungcheol watches you from the side.

“Mm, bet that felt good, huh? But I know you want something in that greedy ‘lil cunt of yours, don’t you? You want daddy’s cock slamming into your tight ‘lil hole ‘til it’s full of my cum, right, sweetheart?” He licks his lips, turning off the sybian as you slump forward.

universe_WZ: shit shes so sensitive

chwenon: especially with her arms bound like that i bet she’s on cloud nine rn

gentleman_josh95: her cute lil head is probably all fuzzy already from all the sensations

therealchan99 has donated $100

gc__koo has donated $75

j__min has donated $150

All you can do is whimper and nod; teary eyes blinking back at Seungcheol as he smirks and leans in towards you.

“Mmm, you’ll get what you want eventually. But for now, you’re gonna cum again.”

He turns the sybian back on, licking his lips when he sees your body tensing again. It was always easier to get you to cum a second time and his point is proven when you mewl around the ball gag a few minutes later; chest heaving in stuttered breaths as you try to shy away from the toy still vibrating against your overly sensitive clit when you’re quickly thrown into another orgasm.

“You always cum for daddy so easily, don’t you, babygirl?”

Your head feels fuzzy after already cumming twice in such a short span of time but you nod, head lolling to the side as Seungcheol finally turns the sybian off for good.

Seungcheol gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s scooting in and fiddling with the clasps at the back of your head to take the ball gag off.

A thread of saliva connects your lips to the gag and you whimper at how good it feels to be able to actually speak again. “D-daddy…” Drool drips from your mouth as your lead lolls forward and Seungcheol is quick to bring a hand up to keep your head up as he looks into your lust filled eyes.

“Colour, sweetheart?”

“Still g-green…” He nods back, checking to make sure none of the ropes had shifted. “Would you like some water before we continue, baby?”

“Yes, daddy…”

He fetches you a glass of water, tilting it against your lips as you down the entire glass and you find yourself a little surprised at how needed it was. “Thank you, d-daddy…”

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Ready to keep going?”

You nod, a little bit more energized. “I hope everyone, mmh, l-likes the show so f-far~” Your teary vision prevents you from reading the comments and before you can even make an effort to, Seungcheol is already helping you off of the machine and helping you sit on the bed across from him.

alphagyu97: ugh she looks so fucking good in that harness

angelhan: right? That shade of red looks so good against her skin too

angelhan: so fuckin pretty

tangerine_kwan: pics for the private room later? Plz i beg

Seungcheol takes this time to take off his boxer briefs, cock curving up against his abdomen when he’s fully naked across from you. He wraps a hand around his cock, moaning and spreading the precum down his shaft as you watch. “D’you want this, baby?”

Your lips fall open in a silent moan as you watch Seungcheol jerk himself off and you can’t help but squirm. “Y-yes…”

“Tell me exactly what you want then. Let them hear what a filthy little slut you are for me.” You can’t help but feel miserably empty watching him and despite having already cum twice, you want his cock fucking you open and making you cum again.

“I--I--”

“Yes, babygirl?”

“I, ngh, I want d-daddy’s cock… Please? Ah, I--I wanna feel you fucking my--my pussy into the, mmh, s-shape of your c-cock… And I w-want you to c-cum inside my--my slutty little h-hole…”

Seungcheol scoffs, hips shallowly thrusting up into his enclosed fist. “That’s right. You’re just my slutty ‘lil babygirl that lets me use all her tight holes how I please, right? You like it when I cum down your throat and in your pretty ‘lil ass. But we all know you like it best when I cum in your hot ‘lil cunt. Makes you feel all warm and full, doesn’t it? You like it when my cum is dripping out of your spent cunt and sliding down your shaky thighs.” This time you nod furiously as you whine back in response.

“P-please… Can’t wait any--anymore!”

This time, the impatience takes over as you slightly tug on the ropes; whining when they don’t give. “Daddy!”

And this time, he gives in quicker than he anticipates, growling as he reaches for the EMT shears to cut you from the harness. “Don’t let your arms down, no matter how much you want to. You’re going to strain your arms if you move too fast so let me handle it, okay, sweetheart?”

The sudden gentleness in his voice has a giddy warmth pouring over you as you nod and sit still while he cuts at various points of the harness to make the ropes fall loose around your arms and chest. You keep your arms in the same position like he requested and you soon feel his hands roaming your skin and massaging your arms to get the blood flowing again.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” He whispers against your hair, leaning down to kiss your shoulder before he slowly easing your arms down from being folded behind your back.

He continues to massage your arms for a few more minutes before it’s you that’s getting impatient. “Daddy… Can you fuck me now?” Whispering, you slightly turn your body to the side to meet his gentle stare.

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, nodding. “Lay on your back for me, legs spread.”

You follow his orders as you quickly scramble to get into position; legs spread wide for him to situate himself between.

“Mm, your pussy is still so fuckin’ wet. I wanna taste you on my tongue, baby.” Whines spill from your lips as you shake your head ‘no.’

“No! My p-pussy feels empty, I need y-your cock, daddy… ‘n I’m so wet, you can probably, ah, just s-slide your cock in…”

He wraps a hand around his cock just as you wrap your legs around his waist and he guides himself until the head of his cock is right at your entrance.

Neither of you say a word as he slowly starts to sink his cock in; guttural moans on his lips when he meets no resistance and bottoms out in a singular thrust. “Holy fuck, your cunt is so fuckin’ wet. Shit, and so t-tight!” You clench around him, already feeling good with his cock inside of you as you beg him to fuck you hard and fast.

“Ngh, p-please fuck me like--like I’m your, hah, c-cocksleeve… I want it f-fast, daddy!”

He grits his teeth at your words; drawing his hips back before snapping them into you just how you wanted. “Fast, hmm? All you think about in that pretty head of yours is my cock pounding you open, huh? Slamming into you so fuckin’ good, it makes your toes curl when you cum.”

Seungcheol starts a quick pace, already feeling the pleasure building up for himself when you’re reduced to garbled noises and broken cries of his name. The heels of your feet dig into the small of his back as you try to press him in closer and he’s quick to reach for the small bullet vibrator left on the bed next to your body.

“Your body is so fuckin’ sensitive, I can already feel how tight you’re getting around me. So fuckin’ greedy to cum too. Already came twice and you still want more. You’re not satisfied until your whole body is shaking underneath me, huh, sweetheart?” He turns the small toy on, pressing it to your clit as you yelp and let out choked sobs.

“Ah, ngh, d-daddy, my--my clit’s t-too sen--sensitive! I--I can’t--!” Squirming, you feel the pressure building up obscenely quick; bottom lip quivering when he takes one of your free hands and makes you hold the toy to your swollen clit.

“Just a little more, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna cum?”

He angles his thrusts to graze against your g-spot and loud cries of his name leave your lips in a hurried, jumbled mess when he only doubles his pace.

The sound of donations and comments pour in like water and get lost within the ringing in your ears; unable to even warn Seungcheol that you’re about to cum when you feel your entire body starting to lock up underneath him.

Your lips part in a silent scream and your back bows off of the bed, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you cum for the third time. Seungcheol growls, fucking you through it as you squirt all over his lower half.  He finds it harder and harder to thrust into you as you cum, but he feels himself quickly following suit with your warm walls fluttering around his cock.

“Fuck, baby, that’s right. Squirt for me, get me fuckin’ soaked while you cum.” He uses a free hand to make sure you keep the toy pressed to your clit, growling when he starts to unload his cum inside of you. “Mmh, gonna fill your cunt up with what you want, baby.”

A shaky moan leaves your lips as you feel him throbbing inside your pussy; walls clamped down onto him in a vice grip as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm.

“Ah, d-daddy’s cumming suh--so much inside of my p-pussy…”

Whining, you feel Seungcheol’s grip on your hand give way as he rides out his pleasure and you take the opportunity to turn off the small bullet vibrator while he doesn’t notice.

You watch his face contort in pleasure, hips still shallowly thrusting into you as his entire body shivers above you.

“D-daddy’s so h-handsome...” You mumble, cheeks hot when he cracks a smile through the pleasure wracking his body and chuckles under his breath. 

“Thank you, babygirl.” 

After you end the show, Seungcheol makes sure to cuddle with you on the bed for a little while longer.

“One more glass of water, baby.” You whine in response, pouting up at him before he gets up from the soaked sheets. 

“But I already had a glass! If you have a piss kink just say so, ‘Cheol!”

He lets out a boisterous laugh at your comment, trudging back to the bed from the kitchen with another glass of water for you. “You need to be hydrated, sweetheart. You came three times and we played a little more rough today. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” 

“Fine, but you didn’t deny my comment.” You snarkily reply, taking the glass from him as you down the water. 

“Don’t make me have to punish you again! I’ll have you know I still need to get you all washed up and change the bed--”

A faint pinging has the two of you turning to the laptop; still on your camming homepage from where you’d checked the revenues from tonight’s show. 

A small [1] sits above your inbox and Seungcheol is quick to turn to you with an eyebrow raised. “I thought you turned off the messaging system on your profile?” 

You tilt your head in confusion, handing him the emptied glass. “I did. The only messages I should get are from, like, the actual system admins or other creator accounts which, I haven’t received any ‘til... now, I guess?”

Seungcheol sets the glass down onto the nightstand before he takes a seat next to you, dragging the laptop closer as you go to check the notification. 

“’Love&Letter Films’? Aren’t they one of the biggest adult film companies?” Mumbling, you click on the message, giving yourself and Seungcheol a second to process the message that stares back at you; a shocked smile on your lips.

‘Hello!

I hope this message finds Cherry and Seungcheol well. 

We, at ‘Love&Letter Films’, have really enjoyed the shows and videos from your channel throughout the years and we really have enjoyed watching the growth of your channel and the addition of Seungcheol to it. The dynamics between the two of you are rare in this industry and we’ve yet to see anyone like the two of you in this market. 

The shows from the last two nights have proven that the two of you have the right kind of chemistry to film together for bigger productions and we would love to hire you for a few film productions we have planned in the upcoming weeks as a feeler. Of course, all expenses paid by us if you would kindly take our offer. 

We love the various scenes and roles that the two of you take on with ease and we would love to help propel your careers forward, should you pursue a career in the adult entertainment industry. 

Please don’t hesitate to contact me as I’ve listed my contact information below. I’m excited to hear from the two of you and hope to work with you in the future on many projects.

Respectfully, 

Kwon Soonyoung, L&L FILMS CEO’

[ghost-strawberry]

This Isn’t Going To End Well

Phic for Phic Phight 2021. Prompt by Bird: I think Danny dealing with his parents implementing a new, widespread ghost protection thing would be neat!

“We’ve been working on a very exciting new device for hunting ghosts!” Maddie exclaimed at the dinner table. Danny tried to show an expression of innocent interest, whilst Jazz anxiously glanced in his direction. He was sure his parents wouldn’t notice his sister’s reaction.

“Yes!” Their dad continued, unable to contain his anticipation, “It utilises an ancient ghost hunting technique and actually includes biological agents.”

“I finally persuaded your father to experiment with the tried and tested horticultural approach,” Maddie went on, all bubbly, having forgotten about the rest of her food. “Of course with some technological upgrades.”

“Does it hurt the ghosts very much?” Jazz asked as she collected the plates and cutlery from the table.

“You know we don’t care about that, Jazzy-pants,” Jack responded flippantly, “in fact, it would be great if it did, or at least hurt the ghosts enough to incapacitate them. We could get some good samples to dissect!” Danny felt his stomach churn and hoped his dinner would stay down. Jazz quickly turned to shove the dishes in the sink, hiding the alarmed look in her eyes.

At least the things his parents invented didn’t usually work that well, Danny reflected. Although, the stuff his mum made often posed an actual threat to him. He prayed his dad had contributed enough to this new device to render it harmless.

Danny massaged his temples, elbows resting on the table. He could feel a headache looming out of sight. “So, uh... what’s it called?” Danny asked, hoping to hear some more information. He needed to know if this was one invention he should be secretly sabotaging. Jazz ran the hot water and began washing up.

“It’s called the Bio-ecto-repellent,” his dad announced proudly. His mum looked less than pleased at this. The name didn't sound too dangerous to Danny. "And if it works, it should effect all the ghosts in an area as big as the city!" Now that did sound bad.

"When will it be finished?"

His mum shot up from her seat, "Oh Danny, I'm so glad you're so interested in this work! You should come and see it right now!"

"Mum," Jazz interjected as she cleaned a plate, "Danny's probably got school work he needs to focus on."

"I think I've got time to come check this out," Danny said, rising from his own chair.

"Great!" Jack shouted. He rushed out of the kitchen, surprisingly quick for a person of his stature. Maddie followed suit.

Jazz spoke softly to Danny, "just let me know if you need me, little brother." A warm appreciation for his sister blossomed in his chest.

"I will, thanks Jazz."

Danny made his way downstairs to the laboratory after his parents, a feeling of dread steadily forming inside him. He generally had faith that his parents would love him no matter what, even if they did find out the truth about him being a half-ghost. Experiences like these and whenever they spoke about cutting up ghosts didn't exactly give him the confidence to tell them. It had become a habit now, to hide his double identity from the world, from his parents. It was just easier this way. Although, maybe if he told his parents, they wouldn't be so hell bent on destroying ghosts. Danny couldn't decide what the safer option was; keep his ghost half secret or tell them the truth. He chose to go with the former for now.

Danny reached for the banister along the wall. For some reason his hand was shaking. Was he that scared of his parents? His vision began to blur with a red haze, the stairs starting to swim and morph before his eyes. Each step downwards seemed to become heavier, slower. He swayed, leaning against the wall. His head was pounding, pain blooming just behind his eyes.

He feebly called out, "Mum? Dad?" Danny could hear feet running on the laboratory tiles, voices reverberating, a droplet of sweat from his forehead splashing on the floor. His own breath was too loud and his heartbeat, usually deathly slow, was thumping hard. Warm hands holding onto his body. He could feel himself trembling, he couldn't see anything now. He thought his head must be about to burst. Suddenly, it all went silent.

***

The soft sound of breathing was pleasant and calming. Occasionally, it was accompanied by the rasp of a page turning. Eyes still closed, Danny flexed his fingers. Every part of his body ached, felt like lead. He was in his own bed. The faint scent of pen ink and jasmine flowers told him his sister was here with him. They were alone.

"Jazz," he croaked, barely audible.

"Danny," she whispered back, dropping her book to clutch his hands. Jazz's hands were uncomfortably hot.

"What happened?" He remembered leaving the dining room, trying to go down the stairs to the laboratory, to see what? Somehow the experience had felt familiar.

"Oh, Danny," Jazz sighed. His eyes flicked open and he could see tears trickling down her face. Anger flared up inside him. He hated that she was crying because of him.

"Don't," he tried to reach up and wipe the tears away, but his arm was like stone, he could scarcely lift it.

"I... I think this..." she faltered, her eyes darting around the room, "I think this new weapon is really bad."

Of course. He remembered now. So he couldn't even go near the thing without passing out? This was bad.

"You're gunna’ have to break it for me Jazz."

"I tried... Mum and Dad they... they stopped me going near it... they've taken it to the roof now."

"They're going to use it. We have to stop them Jazz." Danny had no idea what this thing was meant to do, but he couldn't let it go on. For his own sake as well as the innocent ghosts that naturally inhabited Amity Park. His head raced as he searched for a solution.

"Help me out of the house," he asked, his voice stronger now. The expression on Jazz's face told him what she thought about that, but she gently supported him out of bed anyway. The siblings stumbled together from Danny's bedroom, through the empty hallways and out of the front door. They were greeted with a cold, fresh breeze. Danny let out a sigh of relief as the cool sensation washed over him, invigorating him. He looked down the streets for where to go next. He needed to get further away from whatever the thing was, and get a good look at it at the same time. Danny shakily pointed down a road nearby. Leaning his weight heavily on Jazz they continued away from the house. With every step Danny felt a little stronger, a little lighter.

"Let's get this show on the road!" The gleeful shout echoed, coming from the roof of Fenton Works. Danny raised his head to see his parents attending a slowly spinning machine, it's glass sides showing it to be filled with an ominous red.

"Blood blossoms," Danny murmured, his voice low and quiet. Jazz's eyes widened in fear.

"What? Those primitive flowers that ghost hunters in the olden days used?" Danny nodded solemnly. The device on the roof was spinning faster now, a high pitched mechanical whine emanating from it. Danny could see the white flash of his parents teeth, both grinning madly.

"Stop!" Jazz yelled at them, releasing Danny and frantically waving her hands in the air. "Mum! Dad! Stop the machine!" They couldn't hear her.

Danny raised a shaking, glowing palm towards the roof. He had to destroy this thing, now. He really hoped his parents wouldn't get hurt in the process. The energy built around his hand.

Before he could fire, an ear-splitting crack whipped through the air. For a few seconds everything was still.

It was beautiful really. The gleaming red petals drifted through the sky. They looked as though they were dancing.

Next came the pain. The earth-shattering, mind-numbing pain. His senses cut off completely. He could only see a deep, blood red before him. The only thing Danny could do was scream.

[supersickies]

Summary: "Steve absolutely wasn’t nervous. Compared to every intense and grueling Avengers mission he’s completed, taking care of a sick kid was a walk in the park right? Except when this sick kid was also one of the most precious things within Tony Stark’s life and if anything were to happen to this boy there’s no doubt in Steve’s mind that Tony would dump him in an instant.

So no, Steve was not nervous at all."

OR

Tony has meetings, Steve has anxiety, and poor Peter just has a fever.

A/N: It’s Sicktember 2021! Very excited for this month and to see all of the amazing works! Not to mention it gives me an excuse and the motivation to write as many sickfics as I can! And let's see if I do because writer's block is too real right now :) Anyway thank you @sicktember for coming up with this month of prompts and I hope you all like this little fic! Read it here or click the link to read on AO3! 

Steve absolutely wasn’t nervous. Compared to every intense and grueling Avengers mission he’s completed, taking care of a sick kid was a walk in the park right? Except when this sick kid was also one of the most precious things within Tony Stark’s life and if anything were to happen to this boy there’s no doubt in Steve’s mind that Tony would dump him in an instant.

So no, Steve was not nervous at all.

Tony, however, could see right through the false confidence.

“Relax, Stevie! Good lord, I can feel you panicking from over here.” Tony jokes as he enters the living room and gathers his briefcase and Stark gadgets for his day of meetings.

Steve jolts a bit as he looks up at Tony. “Huh? I-I’m not panicking.”

“You were just glaring daggers into Petey over there, hon.” Tony points out, to which Steve just shrugs with a blush. “There’s really no need to worry Cap, the kid is probably just gonna sleep and cough a bit until I’m back, alright? And if he wakes up and gets antsy or something just heat up some of the soup I made and throw on Adventure Time. Pete’s an easy kid, I swear.”

Steve stands from his chair with a deep breath and nods in understanding. Tony strides over to the super-soldier and takes his face in his hands. “There’s no one I trust more with Peter than you. Except maybe Pepper, but she can literally do everything.”

Steve laughs at that and bends down to give Tony a quick peck on the lips. They break apart so Tony can give Peter’s hair a quick ruffle. His hand pauses on the boy’s forehead as he gauges his fever. His lips quirk downward, he does not love the temperature the kids running at the moment.

With a sigh, he stands up and walks hand in hand with Steve to the elevator. “I think his fever went up, so just keep an eye on that. Friday is down for maintenance so you’ll probably want to wake him up in a bit to take his temperature manually.” The elevator doors open and the super couple shares one last peck before Tony steps in. “I’m just thirty floors down! You’re gonna do great! I love you both!” Tony calls as the doors close and suddenly Steve is alone. Well, save for the snoring spider-teen on the couch.

Steve wanders back to the living room, nervously glancing at Peter as he does. The poor kid is basically in the exact opposite of his regular state. On a normal day, Peter was a bright ball of action, seemingly unable to stop talking or moving at all. But that wasn’t the Peter he saw now.

Instead, this Peter was silent. Sick. There’s an eerie ambiance in the air and Steve hates it.

So, to quell the weird vibe, he turns the tv to TCM, (un-ironically his favorite channel as the rest of the team loved to tease him about) and sets it at a low volume so he doesn’t wake the kid.

He’s just about to the end of an old western film when he hears Peter groan and shuffle around on the couch. The sick teen sits up wearily, his hair a mess and his eyes unfocused. Not to mention his cheeks are deeply flushed with fever, which has clearly gotten worse in the last forty-five minutes.

“S’eve?” Peter slurs as he spots the super solider.

Steve’s focus quickly turns to the kid, who looks undoubtedly sicker. “Hey, Pete. How you feeling, pal?” Stupid question, Rogers. He thinks to himself.

Peter sniffs and shivers with sudden chills. “Mm, n-not v’ry good.” His voice cracks as tears fill to his eyes. His sleep-addled brain catching up to and feeling the full effect of his feverish achy body. He can’t stop his breath as it hitches and the tears spill over. It just hurts so much.

Steve’s up and at the boy’s side almost inhumanly fast, doing his best to comfort him. Unfortunately, he’s no expert on Peter care (i.e, he’s not Tony). If there’s one thing he does know, however, is that you can never go wrong playing with the kid’s hair, which Steve had quickly learned by watching his boyfriend. And while Tony was the “Peter scalp massage pro”, Peter definitely wasn’t picky about who or how. The kid simply just wanted his hair touched.

So Steve did just that. The larger man was relieved to find that the action had the desired effect—Peter had calmed almost instantly, curling up against Steve’s side— but the super soldier was quickly fulled with nerves again as he felt the nearly scalding heat coming from the kid.

When Peter had relaxed enough, Steve grabbed the thermometer Tony had left on the coffee table. Peter spots the machine in Steve’s hand and opens his mouth, accustomed to the routine after being sick all day yesterday as well.

With the thermometer under his tongue, Peter lets his eyes close as they wait for the reading to be done. When it is, Peter lightly jumps at the beep before burrowing back into Steve’s side as the blonde takes the thermometer back and reads its results.

And while Peter looks peaceful once again, Steve is panicking. 103.5. Steve’s not a scientist but he knows that’s not a good temperature for the body to be.

“Friday can you- ah.” Oh, right. Steve remembers that the AI was down for maintenance. Instead, he looks around for his phone, ready to research exactly what he should do for a kid with a near brain-melting fever.

Steve bites the inside of his cheek as he, again, remembers. He doesn’t have a phone right now, as he sat with his last one in his back pocket and it cracked in half. He and Tony had laughed themselves to tears when it happened.

Steve wasn’t laughing now.

He’s thrown back into the moment as Peter groans again, another intense chill running through the kid’s frame. Poor kid must be freezing, Steve thinks.

Freezing.

With that realization, Steve is taken back to his teen years. The years he spent consistently sick and feverish like Peter is now. The years his Ma used to keep him in bed for days, wrapped in every blanket they had in their house.

Blankets!

Steve suddenly remembers how to treat a high fever. You sweat it out, duh. With a tiny smile at the memory of his Ma, he stands from the couch carefully and heads to Tony’s linen closet. He spots a soft looking quilt beside a thick fluffy throw and grabs the two, knowing that when paired with the blanket the kid was already wrapped in they would make the perfect fever banishing covers.

Peter is almost back to sleep when Steve returns, but he hears the man's footsteps and his eyes open again. Steve makes quick work of unfolding the blankets and laying them over Peter. The kid hums, content with the warmth of the added blanked combating his chills, and falls swiftly to sleep. It makes Steve smile, pleased with his ability to care for the sick spidering.

Steve was feeling pretty confident that Tony was going to be just as pleased.

______

Tony Stark was far from pleased.

He had excused himself from his meeting after an hour, intent on checking Peter’s vitals on his phone through the watch the boy wore on his wrist.

What he saw was less than ideal. In fact, it was terrifying. 104.3 should be Peter’s physics grade after perfectly completing extra credit for fun, not his kid’s body temperature. The mechanic bolts to the nearest elevator, paying no mind to the white-collar assholes who awaited his return. They didn’t matter, not when his kid’s brain was melting thirty floors up.

“Steve!” He shouts when the elevator doors finally open to the penthouse. The blonde jumps when he hears his name and his eyes widen as he sees his panicked boyfriend sprinting towards him.

“Tony wha-?”

“Where’s Peter, Steve? Where is he— is he okay?”

Still a bit flustered, Steve just points to the sleeping boy on the couch, still wrapped in the thick blankets. When Tony sees him, his eyes only go wider.

“What, are you trying to fucking roast him?” Tony asks, exasperated. Before Steve can answer, Tony begins removing the blankets from his kid. Cringing at the heat that wafts out from them as they go.

“I-I- his fever got higher! I was trying to help him sweat it out!” Steve stumbles through his explanation.

“Sweat it out? Jesus fuck what are you from the thir- oh my god you’re from the thirties.” Tony halts with the realization. Steve Rogers was borderline a complete stranger to modern medicine and comes from an era of absolute batshit home remedies. The man smoked cigarettes for his asthma for fucks sake.

“Okay, alrighty then. Steve do me a favor and go start a lukewarm bath for me please.” Tony orders in about the most anxiously calm voice Steve had ever heard.

“Okay but Tony-“

“Now please, Steven.” Tony demands once more. Steve gets the memo, fast, and quickly heads to Tony’s bathroom.

Shit.

_____

After a quick dip in the tub and a quick anxiety attack from Tony, Peter’s temperature is back down to a less dangerous level. He’s sat back on the couch in the lightest t-shirt and boxers he owns, sipping ice water through a straw with a fever patch stuck to his forehead. Maybe it was overkill, but you couldn’t tell Tony that.

When the boy's eyes begin to droop Tony takes the water from his hands and helps him lay back down.

“Comfy, bubba?” He asked in a hushed tone. Peter just nods and yawns as he closes his eyes and quickly drifts back to sleep. “Get some more sleep bud.” He hums softly, laying a thin—thin—blanket over his kid.

Steve watches the pair from afar, afraid to step in or offer any more “help”. He doubts Tony will even want to look at him after what he’s done. Which is why when Tony stands and turns to him, he immediately tenses. He’s ready to be yelled at, cursed at, probably dumped.

“C’mere.” Tony says, opening his arms to Steve, inviting him into a hug. The blonde is shocked, sure, but he accepts the hug quickly, silently thinking it could be his last with the man he’s come to love so much.

“Again, Stevie, I can hear you overthinking.” Tony mumbles against his boyfriend's shoulder. He pulls away from the hug and takes the man's hands, looking up at him. “All things considered, you did nothing wrong, hon.”

“Tony I just-“

“You just did what you thought was right. You didn’t know any better Steve.” Tony rebuts before Steve can even finish.

“I’m just…I’m really sorry Tony. You trusted me with your most important person and— I fucked up bad.” Steve apologizes.

“Woah there big guy!” Tony’s brows shoot up at the apology. “First off, language mister.” Tony teases, it makes Steve blush and a hint of a smile ghosts his lips. Tony sees that as a win. “Second, yes, you’re correct. Peter is incredibly important to me. He’s my kid, but you are my Steve!” Tony emphasizes, shaking Steve’s shoulders a bit as if it will help get the point across. “You are incredibly important to me too! You made a mistake, and guess what Steve, that’s human— you’re human!”

Steve smiles sadly and nods before looking back at Peter’s sleeping form on the couch, just double-checking that the kid was truly fine.

Tony huffs lightly, using his fingers to softly move Steve’s head so he’s looking at him again. “Look at me, love. Peter’s fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, and we are fine. Okay?”

Steve takes a deep breath, closing his eyes with a smile. “Okay.” He confirms quietly. He can feel Tony’s hands move to cup the sides of his cheeks as he’s brought into a deep kiss. It quells all of his anxieties. Tony is here, with him, and he’s not going anywher-

“Eeugh, y-you guys ‘re cute and stuff, but the PDA ’s kinda makin’ me nauseous.” Peter’s voice breaks their kiss. Both Avengers turn to the kid, their faces about as red as his feverish cheeks after getting caught.

Tony snorts. “Oh come on kiddie!” Tony pulls Steve’s face closer to his again, this time just peppering kisses across his face. “A man can’t show his boyfriend some love?”

The older men laugh until they hear a legitimate gag from Peter. “N-no I’m serious Mr. Stark—“ Gag. “I’m really nauseous.”

“Steven grab a trash can.” Tony prompts, the same anxiously calm demeanor back in his voice as before.

Steve wastes no time, sprinting to the closest receptacle. “On it!”

[byunbaekby]

title — no body, no crime (teaser) pairing — detective!doyoung x female reader genres — angst, fluff, best friends to lovers au, time travel au, detective au, crime, mystery, slow burn overall warnings — crime, violence, kidnapping, mentions of death, language (to be updated as written) teaser warnings — language teaser word count — 918 words summary — time travel is a concept you’ve played with your entire life. then suddenly, your world is turned upside down when you’re transported to the future, where you learn that you have been missing for seven years. now, your quiet and studious best friend from college is the lead detective in your case; will you be able to help him find you before it’s too late? additional — for the NEOCLOCK collab hosted by @nct-writers​  

projected release — january 10, 2021 8am kst / january 9, 2021 3pm pst projected word count — 15-20k

send an ask to be added to the tag list! graphics by @suh-insane​.

A flash of light, and you’re here.

Though you attempt to land straight on your feet, the force of your sudden movement drops you to your hands and knees, limbs meeting cold concrete. “Shit,” you curse out as pain shoots through your kneecaps and wrists at the sudden impact. 

There’s a struggle to regain your stance on your feet, but once you do, you take in your environment. Despite the fact that your head is still spinning, throbbing from the sudden agitation of… whatever it was that you just did, you attempt to regain control of the situation and assess your surroundings. The room is medium sized, its walls an unsightly saffron beige and illuminated by a few dull light fixtures that hang from the ceiling. A number of desks, squished rather closely together with mountains of papers towered atop, a table in the corner with a coffee pot and some disposable cups. On the wall furthest from you, an investigation board with a motley of pictures, newspaper clippings, and more pinned to it. 

You’re at the police department… but why? 

A few light, careful steps take you to the collection of desks. Though you’re careful not to touch anything, your attention is suddenly caught by the gleam of light on a nearby desk. It’s not as messy as the others, the piles of documents stacked neatly at their corners. But, there’s a pile of sticky notes and crumbled up papers on one side of the desk. One sticky note reads in angry red ink: 2516. There, hidden behind a giant stack of papers, a glimmer of a silver desk plaque that shines when the light hits it:

Detective Doyoung Kim.

Doyoung Kim… your best friend since high school, who had been studying his behind off to become an accountant? No, there’s no way. It must be another Doyoung. And besides, your Doyoung is nineteen and a first-year in university.

Wait. 

Your careful and feather-light movements from earlier are discarded as you suddenly push aside a stack of papers to look for a calendar. It’s a large paper one, found underneath the papers. You search the maze of X’s to find the last date crossed out. The date is… November 2, 2020.

No, no it can’t be. A gasp leaves your lips, the first sound you’ve made since arriving, then an audible slap as you press your hand to your mouth. Two minutes ago it was December 2013, and now you’re seven years in the future. For a moment you’re shell shocked, simply staring at the calendar in absolute disbelief until you realize: you’ve done it. You’ve time traveled.

But, how? And why to this time? 

Suddenly you’re looking around frantically, trying to make sense of the scene before you. Why are you here? How did you get here? Why the police station of all places? Your questions are suddenly answered when a deep voice interrupts your frantic deliberations. “Who are you?” 

You turn sharply to the owner of the voice, who had just entered. Doyoung. 

He looks the same, but still worlds different. His jet black hair is the same, though it’s cut slightly shorter than the length he preferred in his youth. His once gentle bunny-like features are now sharp and angular, eyes darkened by maturity. Though the Doyoung you knew preferred loose jeans and plain t-shirts, future Doyoung is dressed in his full business attire—gray slacks and matching blazer atop a white button-down and a black tie. 

“Doyoung,” you say, voice soft and light at the appearance of a familiar face. However aged, he’s still your best friend Doyoung. 

But the expression he wears on his face is alarmed, dark eyebrows furrowed into his eyes which display surprise, and even fear. “Y/N, is that… is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s really me,” you say gently. Surely there’s a future you that he still knows well, so seeing the nineteen year old you from his past is throwing him off. But he knows that you’ve been building your time machine for years, so you tell him, “I’m sure you’ve figured out now that I’m from the past. Is it really 2020?” 

After a moment of silence and continued disbelieving stares, he nods. “Okay,” you say. “I… I time traveled from the past. I did it!” You exclaim, proud that your life’s work has finally come to success. “And you said that time travel was a fantasy.” 

But rather than smile, roll his eyes, or offer any kind of reaction, Doyoung continues staring, eyes wide as though he had seen a ghost. Suddenly, he rubs his eyes frantically, beginning to pace back and forth, a habit he’s clearly failed to kick in the past seven years. “Oh god,” he mutters to himself, massaging his temples. “I’m going insane.” 

“Doyoung,” you call out to him, grabbing his arm to stop his pacing. The moment you touch him, however, he pulls his arm back and stares at you with frantic eyes. “It’s me, it’s really Y/N.”

“You’re not Y/N,” he suddenly says. “This must be a sick joke.”

Your eyebrows deepen into creases, your frustration growing. “What are you talking about, Doyoung? I’m right here. I know it’s hard to believe, but I really time traveled.” He doesn’t respond, only continuing to gawk at your figure. It’s then that you realize his eyes are watery. “Why are you staring at me like that?” You ask.

“Because, Y/N…” He starts, voice shaking. “You disappeared seven years ago.”

[tough-bit-of-fluff]

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt 1: Foster

It was a quiet afternoon in a low-rent neighborhood of the Goblet, where small shops and residences pressed closely together, worn but tidy. The heat of the day had urged most shoppers and residents along, either back to their homes for a nap before continuing the evening's work, or down the stone path to the brilliant turquoise pools of the posh Brimming Heart district.

It was from one of the aforementioned small shops though, one blessed at least with a large tree to shade it, that came a high-pitched cry, pleading and dramatic.

“Aww, come on, little guy, you hafta eat *something*! Your cute chubby lil tentacles are starting to look all listless, and you're not half as slimy as you were a week ago!”

The shop was the Compass Coffee and Second Chance Shop, and the cry came from Alyona Amariyo, who ostensibly worked there. At the moment, the fluffy, distraught miqo'te was lying on her belly in the middle of the floor, peering closely at a squat, strange creature that almost defied description. The “little guy” in question. Rejected foodstuffs lay scattered around them.

“Might it not be wise,” rumbled the canny hrothgar merchant Cielbasa from behind the counter, “To be a bit more specific than urging the beast to eat ‘something’?” He ran a hand across his furry face and muzzle, and shuddered, imagining the creature latched there.

“That's a g...good point,” Letharon agreed, sweeping a hand through his own dense thatch of cerulean blue hair. He frowned with concern down at Aly, who was pressing her round, pale cheek against the rubbery lavender hide of the blank-eyed animal in an affectionate nuzzle that went absolutely unreciprocated. “We d...don't even know if it's an am...phibian or insect or…” Or an abomination from the dark spaces between the stars, sent to enslave or consume all of mankind, starting with a too-trusting catgirl. “Or w..what,” he concluded, taking a protective step closer.

“Maybe he's a kind of frog,” Flavia suggested, the taller girl smoothing her skirts as she crouched down to join in observing Aly's new “friend.”

“Your belief is that this squelching, six-legged *thing* is a *frog*.” Ciel raised a bushy eyebrow.

“I like frogs,” Flavia explained, as though that was reason enough.

“I like frogs too!” Beamed Aly. “And I like solving mysteries with my friends. And we'll figure out what he is and what he wants, together!”

“Ninki Nanka,” came the proclamation from a shadowed shop-corner, by the bookshelves. Victor stepped dramatically into the light, causing the staff and scattered customers to gasp. Aly clapped at the theatricality.

Leth blinked. “W...what?”

Qoribucha, a tall Xaela shop regular sipping a comparatively tiny cup of espresso, offered a grave nod. “Perhaps he is speaking the words which shall release it back to the Void.”

Victor repeated, “Ninki Nanka. That's apparently what this thing is. Or at least I'm reasonably sure. Look at the striations on its tail.” He gestured to the book he was holding.

Cielbasa frowned. “Let me see that.”

Victor shrugged, and, focusing, used his telekinesis to float the tome across the room to the leonine shopkeep’s hands...perhaps with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.

Ciel flipped rapidly through the pages, while Aly unsuccessfully offered the possible nanka a carrot, a gysahl green, and a handful of birdseed.

“A, ahem, ninki nanka, does not have six legs,” Ciel stated, tapping an illustration with his clawed finger.

“There will be more meat to harvest, when eventually its time comes,” Qori observed. “Perhaps it is a boon.”

“Maybe...this one's just special,” Aly suggested, not responding to the au ra’s suggestion, and massaging the nanka’s back. It made a wet noise that might have been a growl or a trill, or simply the passing of gas. A faint fishy smell filled the air, wrinkling the noses of everyone in the room, aside from the two enamored, oblivious women, and the creature itself, which didn't have a nose to wrinkle.

“You do tend to find the special ones,” Victor chuckled, reaching down to rub a pink, fuzzy ear.

“Ohh, no no, don’t eat that, silly!” Flavia chided the creature, who was waving its tentacles inquisitively at a “coffee” concoction she had made with unground coffee beans, an entire cup of sugar, and, by the look of it, several small pinecones, their sap-encrusted ends protruding from the unwholesome brew. “That’s people food, and it could make you sick.”

“That’s h...half right,” murmured Leth, bemused.

“I dunno,” said Aly. “He hasn't shown this much interest in anything at all today, maybe you could let him have a...bite? Sip? However you would interact with all that?”

Flavia nodded, holding the mug out to the nanka. It waddled over and descended upon the brew with a savage enthusiasm, tentacles flailing, thick tail thumping, as surprisingly loud slurping, splorching sounds filled the air.

“He likes it!” Aly cheered. ”Flavia, you're a culinary genius specifically for nankas, that is a highly specialized skillset, good work with that!” The other woman beamed at the peculiar praise.

The group watched the strange, six-legged nanka messily finish its decidedly unwholesome repast, then scurry around the floor in circles, before scuttling around the corner and down the stairs.

“He certainly seems...energetic, now,” Victor remarked, brushing off his vest and shirt-sleeves as if he felt slightly less clean for just having been in the same room as the strange animal.

“Maybe he went downstairs to get more coffee,” Flavia suggested.

“That's p...probably not the best idea,” Leth said, heading downstairs himself. The others followed his lead.

But when they arrived, the sight that greeted them was not of a nanka burrowing into the beans, but of a nanka frolicking in the fountain. Aly clasped her hands together joyfully, and ran to the creature's side. “Look how moist he is again! And ooh, you're making so much slime, little guy!”

Leth joined Aly and looked down with dismayed distaste. “The w...water’s turning all viscous and s...slimy, like from a h...hagfish!”

Aly nodded, tapping her lips in thought. “Do you think we should save some slime for the next time he's looking a little dried out? Or maybe he should just stay in the fountain…”

Leth put his hand on the miqo'te’s shoulder. “Aly, this is a w...wild animal we don't know much about. D...do you really think it's a good idea to k...keep it?”

Aly looked up at Leth with earnest gray eyes. “There's a lot about *us* we don't know yet. Stuff about my past, the way your machine parts work… And besides, isn't this supposed to be a place that helps travelers who aren't sure of their way? This little guy is a long way from home, and he needs our help!”

Letharon, a long way from what he once called home himself, sighed. “What are you going to c...call it? It probably won't be a l..little guy, forever,” he noted with no small amount of trepidation.

“Yes,” Ciel agreed archly from the stairwell. “What are you going to name the ‘frog’?”

“That's a great idea, Ciel! We will name him Frog.”

In the fountain, Frog ceased his splashing, and put his front feet on the ledge. He looked out into the basement café, and seemed to nod. His tentacles bobbed in apparent agreement, and his tail swished and gently sloshed in a satisfied way. Another wayward wanderer had come to the Compass to stay.

@eorzeanharmony @garleanfluff @sharp-cast-sharper-words and more, thank you for sharing your wonderful characters.

You can visit the Compass too! https://compasscoffee.carrd.co

[robron1609]

Robron Week 2021 - Day 1

Meet-Ugly + "That's not an explanation."

New Beginnings

(ao3 link)

Aaron’s eyelids fluttered like a candle in the wind, the hustle and bustle of the city pecking away at his head with a sledgehammer. The bitter taste of ale, the fruity taste of wine and all the combined spices of every spirit known to man were stagnant on his tongue as he peeled his damp limbs off the leather sofa beneath him.

He let out a dry cough and it felt like someone had shot him in the brain during his sleep. But other than that, he was as right as rain.

It took him longer than he would care to admit to remember that he did, in fact, not own a single item of furniture that had even an inch of leather on it, and he lived in the in the middle of bloody nowhere where the only thing (apart from his mother) that made him shake a leg in the morning was the bellows of Moira’s cows when their troughs were being topped up.

So, there’s that.

His brain caught up and he bolted upright, his whole face moulding into a sculpture of what, where, when, how and why. He took in his brand-spanking-new surroundings; a lavish penthouse overlooking London’s skyline, decked out from head to toe in a fusion of ultra modern and industrial pieces. Not really his style, to put it nicely. It looked like something straight off the front page of one of those overpriced interior design magazines on the top shelf of David’s shop that no one ever bought.

Aaron could only hope that whoever lived here was some bloke he’d pulled in the haze of last night, if it wasn’t then… what the actual fuck was he doing here?

When the room had stopped spinning on all its axis and Aaron was eighty-nine percent sure that he would be able to hold his vomit in if necessary, he braved the hallways in search of other life. He detoured to stand in front of a back-lit mirror that had beckoned him over, and he was introduced to his reflection. It gawked right back at him, dressed in nothing but a pair of neon yellow boxers and a Scottish flag that he was wearing as a cape. The flag was fastened loosely around his neck with a frayed shoelace and there was a big tear down the centre of it.

Jesus fucking shit. Absurd didn’t even begin to cover it.

Sweat dripped down his top lip when he heard a deep voice through the wall. He teetered around the corner until he was close enough to pick up most of the words.

“I won’t be in today.” There was a pause. “Does it fucking matter?” Nice manners, then. “Look, unless you want me hurling all over the new contact, I suggest you grow a pair and attend the meeting without me.”

Aaron gripped the glossed door frame, his clammy hands squeaking on the wood as he snuck a look at who the voice was coming from. The man was stunning. He was all sun-kissed skin, choppy blond hair, and a gorgeous mouth that dipped dramatically in the corner.

“Shit!” With a jolt, the blond dropped his phone and it landed on his face with a mocking smack.

“Sorry-”

“Why are you in my house?!”

“I’m Aaron.” No shit, Aaron.

“That’s not an explanation!”

“Sorry.”

Aaron cringed. All of a sudden he was big on apologies, apparently. Blondie was now sitting up, scratching the fluff on the nape of his neck as he shuffled out of bed and adjusted his duvet accordingly whenever it slipped below his waistline. He just glared at Aaron, waiting to hear something that made sense.

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me,” Aaron said, using all of his self-control to stop his eyes from drifting downwards. “My head’s mashed. I remember being on the train with Adam and Vic, and then-”

“Vic as in my sister Vic?”

Aaron just stood there, catching flies. “I- I dunno, I think so. Sugden?”

“Uh-huh.”

Ohhhh, Robert Sugden. Aaron finally put a name to the face and felt like giving himself a pat on the back.

…..

“Here you go. Extra strong.”

"Ta."

Aaron warmly accepted the cup of coffee, the steam flying off it and dissolving in his pores. He used the piping hot liquid to swamp down some paracetamol before tightening the strap on the dressing gown that Robert had lent him a little earlier with a side-eye and a grumbled, “Make sure you give it back.”

With the current cycle rumbling the machine into the ground, Aaron glanced at the digital timer displayed on the appliance. Just forty-eight minutes until he could grab his screwed up clothes, slap them on, and leg it to the underground with his tail between his legs. The longest forty-eight minutes of his life, no doubt.

Hoping to make a crack in the ice, Robert led Aaron to the scene of last night’s crime. Through the sliding doors, across the patio and up the spiral stairs, secluded in the corner and illuminated by the steady flicker of the firepit. Robert was surprised that it hadn’t burnt out in the early morning under the April showers.

The rooftop terrace was what sold this place for Robert. It was his haven, complete with everything that made his superficial heart weep. This morning, however, it looked how he felt.

He absorbed the aftershocks of his party (shards of glass littering the outdoor table, remains of finger foods welded to the deck, and a pair of nude stilettos abandoned on the bar) and sagged. Turning thirty was dismal enough without having to clean up after his colleagues. Or, as he liked to call them, a bunch of wound up, hoity-toity pen pushers who didn’t even know his middle name—just a sniff of free booze and they were squeezing into a Ralph Laurent polo that still had the label on, and patting him on back with a bout of boisterous laughter as if they were best mates.

Wow, he was in dire need of some proper friends.

Aaron propped himself up on the bar. “Bet you don’t get tired of this,” he said, looking out at the sparkling city.

“It’s a great hangover cure,” Robert said, nursing his Americano and watching the ripples dance over the surface as he lightly blew it. “It can be lonely, though,” he admitted, unsure as to why. This handsome and hungover stranger was just waiting for his ticket out of here, he didn’t want or need to become Robert’s agony uncle to fill the time, that was for sure.

“Why’s that?”

Oh. Perhaps Aaron, for one reason or another, cared. Or he’s got nowhere else he needs to be and Robert’s left him with no choice but to sit and listen because it's the polite thing to do. Aaron looked at Robert all doe-eyed and Robert wanted to stay here until he’d told Aaron every single intricate detail of his life up until this point. But that seemed a little crass.

“Don’t know, really. I just… don’t like to be alone with my thoughts, I suppose. And being up here, well, it’s a whole lot of that.”

“I know what you mean,” Aaron said. “How long have you lived here?”

"Nearly two years on the whole." Robert calculated, Aaron giving him an amicable nod in response. Robert licked the coffee froth off his lips, clearing his throat. "I've lived in London a while, though. Since I left the village, pretty much."

"And you never thought about going back?"

"I couldn't." That would mean looking back. And after the trail of destruction he'd left in his wake, that was never going to happen. They were better off without him. Or at least his Dad and Andy were. Vic and Dianne never stopped reaching out, however, offering their support through texts and unanswered voicemails.

Aaron changed the topic, sensing that Robert's internal trip down memory lane wasn't a smooth ride. "You heard anything from Vic and Adam?"

"They were both flat out in the spare room last time I checked," Robert answered. He'd been less than pleased to find them entwined together on top of the duvet, dead to the world as Adam slobbered away on the satin pillowcase like an excited dog, and Vic let out a mishmash of unconscious sounds from sniffles to whistles, her makeup crusty and her outfit dishevelled by a night's sleep in it.

"Vic had a whole itinerary planned. Some museum, Leicester Square, and then this ridiculous hipster coffee shop near the station," Aaron said with a dreary eye roll. "Even though our train leaves just after two."

"She's just excited. She doesn't come here often."

"'Suppose not."

"Anyway, I recommended that coffee shop so you better not miss it," Robert said. Aaron snorted because of course he did. "Come on."

Robert rose, perking up a bit as he stretched his arms until they clicked with satisfaction. Aaron followed in his footsteps, literally, but they stopped in their tracks, coming face to face with a rumbled Victoria.

She looked dead and alive all at the same time as she swung her phone about. "There they are, the newly engaged couple."

Robert choked on air and Aaron gave him a splash of side-eye before snatching Vic’s phone. "What are you on about?" And Aaron had to check that the digital date displayed in the top left corner of the screen wasn't April the 1st. Nope, it was indeed the 23rd. And under that was a Facebook post on his profile; a blurry, backlit photo of him and Robert flashing the camera with two rings that didn’t even match, accompanied by a slurred caption.

yayy ENGAAAAAGED! whoop whoop!! hears to many many many many many year <3

Aaron groaned, throwing his head back in sheer embarrassment when Vic grabbed a hold of his and Robert’s left hands. Sure enough, the rings were still there. “Oh my God,” she cackled, her voice like a siren in the middle of the night. “This is brilliant. A few more of those cocktails and you’d be halfway to vegas, ey?”

Robert massaged his temples, kneading roughly at his dry skin. “Whatever’s in them is lethal,” he grumbled, peering over Aaron’s shoulder as he watched him scroll through the comments and squeeze his eyes shut in disbelief at each one.

“It’s your bar, mate. You should know what it’s serving,” Aaron said. He had a point. “Let’s just pray we left it at cheap rings.”

(Aaron couldn’t even begin to fathom at what point during the party he and Robert had fled the penthouse and ended up at a jewellers of all places. Who’d thought a proposal was the perfect end to a not-so-perfect night? Who’d taken that photo? And who in their right mind was selling giant fabric flags in the early hours of the morning? It would be a miracle if he becomes sober enough to answer at least one of those questions.)

Robert pouted. “That’s a shame. I’ll cancel the tickets to Vegas, then,” he teased.

“I dunno, I could do with a holiday just to get over the shame.” Robert grinned at the younger man’s flirty tone.

“Cheers,” Robert scoffed. Aaron handed the phone back to Vic who watched the pair with a knowing glint in her eye, her head bouncing back and forth between them.

“Only joking,” Aaron said. “Could be worse.”

Vic pocketed her mobile with a yawn and tightened her ponytail. “Right, I’m gonna drag my lump of a boyfriend out of bed and start gathering our stuff. I’ll leave you two to plan the wedding of the century, shall I?”

Vic left the rooftop, her flats scuffing all the way down the metal staircase. Robert gulped down the remains of his coffee and turned to Aaron with a smirk.

“So, fiancé,”–Aaron shot Robert a fiery glare which, if Robert didn’t know any better, would leave a bruise on his ego–“I know a great place where we can get some brunch. Why don’t we ditch Vic and Adam and I’ll drop you off at King’s Cross after.”

Aaron pulled a face. “ Brunch? I’m not paying £8.99 for a plain scone.”

“My treat.” Robert offered, hoping that would seal the deal.

“Like a date?”

“If you want it to be.” Aaron paused for a beat, not that there was ever much to contemplate.

“Fine.” Robert didn’t miss the bashful smile taking over Aaron’s face. Robert bit the inside of his cheek when Aaron began to descend the stairs. He crammed his hands in his pockets, his heart going into overdrive as he kicked his feet into gear.

[pretchatta]

pretchatta's masterlist

pretchatta on ao3 || writing tag (top picks)

I’m not able to write as much any more but I hope to someday return to my wips folder

ratings: (G)eneral, (T)een, (M)ature, (E)xplicit

fics marked with a * have only been posted on tumblr

rebels:

instructions: how to make tea* (kanan & chopper, G)

life day ghosts (hera & jacen, G)

golden light* (hera/reader!kanan, G)

spectre seven to ghost* (kanan & jacen, G)

all spectre's eve (the ghost crew dress up to go trick-or-treating, G)

the warmth of a moment (ghost crew+wren family, winter family fluff, G)

his worst nightmare (kanan has a nightmare, T)

the final dawn (hera/numa, T)fever relief (kanan/rex/hera, E)

rebels appreciation week (various art and fic pieces)

rebels/kanera:

love languages and laundry* (G)

i saw her tomorrow (kanan/hera, jedi night time travel fix-it, G)

kanan and the underworld (orpheus and eurydice, G)

is this love?* (sharing a bed, G)

pining* (G)

faking it official (not-actually-fake relationship with the whole family, G)

making it official (the wedding prequel, T)

mark of the phoenix (soulmates/soulmarks au, T)

a rude awakening* (T) (explicit version)

hear it in the silence (songfic, T)

the laws of spectre dynamics (modern university au, T)

as if you were a mythical thing (lekku massage, T)

tripping the light fantastic (undercover as married at a fancy event, T)

reflections in a broken mirror (jedi caleb meets pregnant hera for the rebels minibang, T)

caf machine's broken (M)

a thousand lives (inquisitor!kanan for swbb2022, M)

tipping the velvet (sequel to tripping the light fantastic, E)

thinking of you (E)

swoon june (30 romantic prompt fills for kanera, various ratings)

7 standalone fics for kanera week 2021

original trilogy:

the generals (hera & lando, set during rotj, G)

the clone wars:

civil war (obi-wan/satine on the run during the mandalorian civil war, E)

life & death (bo-katan would never forget the night her nephew was born, T)

catharsis (tears of the heart) (obi-wan/satine after onaconda farr's funeral, G)

breakable heaven (aayla/padmé aotc au, T)

unity in the face of destruction (aayla/bly, T)

the mandalorian:

forging (the armorer reflects on the past, G)

sleep, little soldier (din & grogu, G)

chaos engineering (din & grogu, written for the clan of two zine, G)

the bad batch:

wartime traditions (cham/eleni/howzer, T)

coming home (cham/eleni/howzer, cont. from wartime traditions, E)

post-war traditions (cham/eleni/howzer, T)

[mimiplaysgames]

Terra Week Day 6 (Free Day)

Summary: Sometimes, a ghost is a wish. | Word Count: 3,218

Read on AO3

A/N: For Terra Week 2021! You can find that account on Twitter!

~*~*~*~*~

The Tenets of a Master, Ch. 6

The Master’s bedroom is exactly as he left it many years ago. Bed made, dresser (now) dusty, curtains parted to let the sunlight in, walk-in closet neatly organized with not a single article of clothing in his hamper, as the Master was a fan of washing clothes every single day. Terra never found out why. 

Terra has rummaged through this drawer three times already and still he can’t find them. He’s looking for a stack of sepia-toned pictures, cradled in a small envelope, the ones on the top dated many years ago when the Master was a student, while the ones at the bottom chronicle some of his adult life when Terra and Aqua were children. He’s tried searching every drawer, every box, every cupboard, and has even looked under the mattress and in the pillow cases. He couldn’t have misremembered them, could he?

One of the things he’s surprised to find instead is a small, delicately furnished wooden box with a latch. Full of cigars. The Master never smoked, but maybe he liked to smell like them. Though Terra would never personally choose to keep a set in his dresser, smudging all his clothes. 

Sighing, Terra stands by the bed, taking another gander around the room to see if there’s a spot he could have missed. Maybe behind the mirror? No, not there. He slips his hands into his pockets, and finds something else. Folded over in four, the paper is crumpled, living in his pocket for the better part of a week. Naminé’s drawing of Xemnas is messier, the strokes of crayon meshed into each other that he’s less of a childish, crude figure and more of a smear. That ring of fire surrounding him stays closed. 

Terra grunts.

Here comes another headache, a tense pulse above his brow. Massaging it never helps. Suddenly, Terra is not in his Master’s old bedroom anymore. Suddenly, he’s standing high on a cliff overlooking a wasteland, talking to someone in a black cloak with the hood up. 

Now he’s back in the bedroom, the sun cutting shapes through the lace curtains with the breeze passing by. In a few minutes, the headache will go away. This is how it goes every single time.

Yes, it’s been a week since they left Radiant Garden. Only Ienzo uses the Gummiphone for contact, leaving long messages that take Terra too much time to reply back to. The rest of the team would prefer correspondence through letters, which is something Terra would rather do as well. He just hasn’t done so yet, focusing his attention on cleaning the castle as they start a new life without their old Master. Once that’s done, he promises himself to do so. 

It’s a shame, he knows he should make more of an effort (and promises that he would once he takes care of the Master). Xion sometimes texts him with pictures, some of them with Roxas, who still hasn’t made an effort to talk to him even though they played a good race at the beach (Terra didn’t even need to let him win—that kid is fast). That’s okay. Xion has offered to set Terra up with what she calls a Kingstagram account, and Terra supposes that’s okay, too. He just doesn’t know what that is or if it’s worth his time. 

In the end, he is still really bad at connecting with others, and he’s still out of pictures, and he still doesn’t know what to do with the Xemnas drawing. Any moment now, Aqua will come looking for him. They’re finally preparing for his memorial, to say goodbye to his Keyblade—

—And Terra has to say goodbye forever without ever seeing him again. What’s the point of staying linked to these memories if they do nothing for him? 

Why does looking at this drawing of Xemnas the only thing that gives him reminders?

Grunting, Terra rubs his face. Maybe it’s as good a time as any to text somebody now, distract himself so he calms down and do some good so he’s not completely isolated. He waits for his Gummiphone to turn on to the initial screen, the whirring of the machine the only noise accompanying him. How did Ven do this again? He clicks on his address book. Now he has to remember how to open a text and take a picture, particularly of the Xemnas drawing.

terra

did he ever call you an also-ran

Send.

Terra doesn’t expect Lea to answer right away. He probably will read the text, probably take the time he needs to register how he feels before painting his usual bright smile that he uses to play everyone. Maybe Terra has him all wrong. Maybe this is really offensive, and Lea would actually be upset. It’s not his intention.

The Gummiphone buzzes several times.

lea

see

i told isa the other day

the first time i saw you i thought you looked like an asshole

Terra snorts to himself quietly.

terra

is that your favorite word

lea

;3

So it’s all good. Terra breathes a sigh of relief, a smirk that’s warm on his cheeks. He doesn’t know if texting people randomly is the right way to go about doing this whole make-new-friends thing. It’s not as easy as walking up to somebody and saying hello anymore, but starting a new life doesn’t have a manual. 

As though the chains he linked through Xemnas harbor resentment, he’s hit with another spasm of pain, drilling onto the side of his skull. Stars, they get intense sometimes, some of them downright gorey. He will not think about it. He will push it away. The pain subsides but only a bit, throbbing instead. 

It can’t end like this. He’s avoided going back to Naminé ever since just to keep trying and see Eraqus, one more time. One more. It’s not much to ask for, so why can’t the stars be more forgiving? He swears to them he’ll never ask for something again. 

Terra groans, pain hammering over his brow. What’s coming this time is going to knock him around, so he lowers himself to his knees. Several people dressed in extravagant embroidery, from some other world, being swallowed up by darkness, their hearts floating up to the sky and a small cry of Mister, is my mommy coming back? 

When it’s over, Terra sobs, keeping a heave from rupturing his chest and wiping dry tears. If Aqua comes in and sees him like this, she’ll freak—she’s already brewed so many potions and teas for him whenever he has an episode. 

He tries for the closet again. The Master kept his most expensive robes wrapped in plastic, preserving a faded scent of cedar. Terra takes the fabric, smooth as silk, and breathes into it. It’s weaker than last time. He could always spray it with the Master’s leftover cologne (his favorite), but it still wouldn’t smell exactly like him, and as Terra waits seconds for another memory to come, he realizes as soon as it hurts that it wouldn’t bother with giving him what he’s looking for. All he asks for is the sound of the Master’s voice, to see that smile move one more time so he makes sure he sears it into his mind for the rest of his life. 

Instead, a strong voice (Xehanort’s) talks about the Darkness making way for the Light, just like the expansive sky that is home to the stars. It was necessary to pursue it, he had said to someone. 

A single tear treads all the way to Terra’s jawline. He’s tried his best. No photos, no special memory. It’s like the Master doesn’t linger here anymore.

Defeated, Terra pulls his Gummiphone out, searching for Naminé’s entry. He won’t commit to an appointment. He’s only asking questions, wondering if there are better ways to maneuver through the memories so he gets what he wants. She doesn’t answer right away. 

He pulls himself up at the foot of the bed, aching like an older man even though he looks twenty in the mirrors. What lies.

Where else to find mementos? Terra has already looked through the Master’s study and his favorite spots in the library. The only place left is the attic. 

The attic sits atop the northeast tower. Terra is in the residential wing, in the southeast tower, so he has to travel several paces downstairs to make it over, just to climb all the way back up. Entirely built of wood, the attic has one stained-glass window that slices pastels through the floorboards. A lot of junk gets dumped up here—old knight statues from a Master that lived eight-hundred years ago or so, faded paintings that have names but aren’t recognizable anymore, couches that are stained and out of style, chests of outdated books and maps, and trinkets and gifts that litter everywhere else. Even Aqua can’t bear to let any of this go despite that none of it truly belongs to anybody. To her, it’s like rejecting their history. The Master probably had felt the same.

Before what happened, Master Eraqus was moving items up here, mostly stacks of papers. They were shoved in a leather binder, tied together with string. It’s a long shot the photos will be with them, but regardless, Terra begins the hunt. 

It’s not in the chest of crystals. Not by the old (creepy) dollhouse. Not with any of the broken phonograms, nor with the folded rugs that stack from floor to ceiling. 

But it’s right there, sitting neatly by a basket full of gold artifacts from worlds Terra has never been to and engraved in languages he doesn’t know, tied with a red string and stitched in handmade leather. When Terra pulls it open, he’s greeted by a handful of letters written to Eraqus about trouble in other worlds, asking for his help, and a stack of essays about the philosophy of the Keyblade, both in the common-tongue and the ancient. 

It’s nothing like reliving memories or watching them like footage, but Terra imagines the Master working late into the night on his desk with a quill, writing these essays slowly so he keeps his impeccable script. He’d read books with a glass of wine every night, and keep at it in the morning with a mug of coffee, hair unbrushed as usual but that’s fine when he keeps it in a short ponytail every day. He’d disappear every week to some other world, leaving Terra and Aqua with a nanny until they were old enough to take care of themselves. Considering what these people are writing about—missing circus animals, their neighborhood mountain being possessed, and even an early report of Unversed showing up in the woods—the Master used to be a busy man. 

Why did he have to die that day? Why can’t Terra keep the things that are supposed to come with home?

Terra sniffs. The smell of cedar comes up, as though the cologne was sprayed up here recently. Kicked up with a cloud of dust, as though the Master is here.

I am… well, for a short time at least.

Terra whips over his shoulder to find the Master behind him, a glow beaming through him as he checks the rust spreading on one of the oldest sets of armor. Picking up dust, Master Eraqus rubs it between his fingers.

This sorely needs urgent attention. I recommend some solvent and a spot of oil, he says, smiling at Terra as if it’s any other morning and breakfast will be announced soon. So many histories live here.

“Master?” Terra drops the papers.

Eraqus tsks his disapproval and like muscle memory, Terra immediately gathers the papers together, working on automatic mode, tucking them under his arm as if this is class and he has to be on his best behavior. When the Master approaches, he makes no noise: no thuds to his steps, no wind whooshed by his robe, gliding gracefully across the floor. Terra bows... though he cannot fight the urge to stare up. Terra has forgotten about the scar; it was on the Master’s face,  every single day, but he’s never heard the story behind it. An elephant accident. A run-in with pirates. Those were the contradicting explanations he’s heard every time he asks.

The Master looks down, motioning with his hand to stand up. Look at you. Almost as tall as I am.

“You’re here.”

The Master smiles. This is the happiest Terra remembers him being; he must not feel his chronic back pains anymore. You have spent your whole week following me. He gives Terra a mischievous knowing in his eyes. I suppose it would be rude of me not to return the gesture.

“I’m sorry,” Terra gasps, mouth gaped open for all the words he prepared, but now that the moment is passing by, he doesn’t know what to say anymore. He reaches out with a hand but stops himself, scared of what it would feel like to to pass right through the image. “I missed you.”

And I have missed you all so much, Eraqus says with contentment.

“I wish it never happened,” Terra chokes. “Sometimes, I wish I could find some way—”

Shhh. The Master shakes his head lovingly. Don’t. No longer shall you venture down the path of grief. You have already experienced first-hand what such curiosities could lead to. And you already know you don’t need to. 

“I know,” Terra whispers. “I know.”

When the Master smiles this time, he sighs and closes his eyes like he’s feeling the sun. I have reunited with so many of my old friends since. Such a peaceful existence. He opens them. Your friendships are something to cherish for as long as they can physically walk by your side, Terra. But who am I to lecture? You have always. Friends to love, who want to care for you. I am so proud.

So proud…

Tears, quiet and happy, fall like drops of spring, Terra hearing what he always yearned to hear since he was six years old, a comforting embrace that wants to tell him he can breathe again without feeling guilty. 

But he still does. Every living breath is guilty by association.

“She’s so happy now,” Terra whispers as if to justify his actions, remembering Aqua sparring for the first time with Rainfell in years, hesitant at first, unsure of how it’s going to react with spells, but it comes fast. It comes like drinking water, natural and needed. “I don’t regret anything.”

Which was why you were the perfect candidate when I had asked you to look after them. He smirks. I couldn’t have trusted anyone better for the responsibility. 

Terra swallows, searching for the courage not to ask, believing he shouldn’t. He’s weak. “I am?”

The smile falls. You are not weak. 

You are willing to bare it all for your friends. Your bonds with Aqua and Ven are unbreakable, a magical, special, living Light to behold. A forge stronger than chains, weightless and free. I am sorry for seeding so much doubt within you, when you have so much to offer. If only I wasn’t—it was my duty to do better. That is my shame. He shakes his head at himself. But you’ve been so dedicated to the past, Terra, he says, concerned but not disappointed. Too much so. I worry. 

Terra grimaces. “Ha, I never have any explanations for the dumb mistakes I make when I need to.”

You’ll find little answers in what lies behind you. The Master leans forward, pulling a small smile as he studies Terra’s eyes. But you are more than capable. Please do me the favor. Trace the past no longer. You have your bonds to nourish, and more to flower. Then he smiles more, an epiphany in his eyes like he wants to share a secret. Only in death did I realize what true Mastery really is. The living can be so foolish. 

“You weren’t a fool, Master.”

Master… A Master is a forever student. To deny this is to be blind to your faults. Eraqus laughs, his eyes rolling. What would I have said to my younger self. You don’t see that one in the books. 

“I don’t know, I… I think what I did for Aqua trumps any dream I had in becoming Master.”

Eraqus’s eyes glisten. Do you not see one when you look at yourself in the mirror? 

Terra bows his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, warm and real. Terra could hug him. But he doesn’t, not when Eraqus slips something flat in his hand. 

Do take care of them. He holds Terra’s jaw. Chin up, son.

Footsteps climb up the stairs leading into the attic, and Terra is alone with a smooth piece of paper in one hand, the other wiping tears from his cheeks.

“Terra? You okay? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Aqua is carrying a finished wreath with purple flowers. She stops when she gasps, looking around the attic. “That smells like the Master’s cologne,” she whispers.

When Terra smiles, he cries more. “Look at this.”

A sepia-toned picture of Eraqus as a young boy, sitting on a window seat with a chess board laid out in front of him, all teeth from ear to ear, sincere and hopeful. He looks at the camera like it’s his best friend. 

Aqua’s eyes light up as she takes it, a tear for each eye. “Look at him. It’s so strange, but he was adorable.”

“Have you ever seen that one?”

“Never. It wasn’t with the others.”

“The others?”

She strokes the photo with her thumb. “Hm. I moved them into my room. I wanted to frame them.” She holds it to her chest. “Can I take this one?”

“For your room?”

“I’ve got one ready for yours. It’s that nice portrait that used to embarrass him.”

The one where he looked serious enough to judge someone to death. The Master had called it unsightly when it was presented to him.

“That one’s perfect.”

Aqua exhales deeply, shivering as tries to keep herself tall. “I’m so sad he’s gone, and... I don’t know. Sometimes I wish I had given him a Wayfinder. He feels so far away.”

He holds her chin softly, keeping it up as her heavy tears fall. “We could give him ours.”

She stops sobbing and stares through Terra when the realization hits her. She nods. “That’s a wonderful idea,” she says, nuzzling the wreath closer to her, her own little hug for the Master. 

Terra’s Gummiphone buzzes in his pocket. That has to be Naminé. 

“The wreath is beautiful,” he tells Aqua, and that grounds her back to reality. “You’ve done a marvelous job.”

“Thank you.” She strokes some of the leaves to keep them in place. “I’ll see you back at the front door?”

“Definitely.”

He’ll let her go downstairs first, pulling out the Gummiphone to read his new text. He’s going to tell Naminé that he’s changed his mind. He’s ready for an appointment.

[robotlearnstolove]

2021-09-24

The alley behind the restaurant permanently smelled of garbage and cigarettes. Greg was fairly certain that even if the restaurant closed and ten years passed, the alley would still smell that way. He sat on a milk crate next to the garbage bin, his back against the peeling paint on the brick wall, watching Polka flatten boxes before tossing them into the bin. The old, wiry dish machine operator had a straightforward but–at least to Greg–surprising approach to the task. Rather than cutting or peeling off the tape and folding them flat, Polka would jump onto the boxes, violently stamping and kicking them until they were flat. It was a mesmerizing sight. The most impressive part, however, was how Polka managed to smoke two entire cigarettes, without once choking or dropping them in the process. The whole time, Polka didn’t so much as acknowledge Greg’s presence.

When he was done, Polka threw his second cigarette butt onto the gravel and went back into the restaurant, slamming the door behind him. A gust of thick, greasy kitchen air combined with the stale smell of cigarette smoke hit Greg. It was exactly the motivation he needed. He stood up promptly, got dizzy from the sudden change and put his hand against the wall to steady himself. Now that he was standing again, he realized how uncomfortably he had been sitting. At first, it had seemed like the most comfortable seat in the world, especially since he had just spent six hours on his feet without a break. He reached up and stretched his entire body, then put his hands on his butt and tried to massage out the imprint left by the crate.

The kitchen door swung back open and the entire kitchen staff marched out into the alley. All four of them were sweaty and wore heavy expressions of exhaustion and defeat. Service had been rough, although not unexpectedly so. They had all worked enough Sunday brunch shifts to know what to expect.

“I swear,” said Kenny once the door was closed behind them, “if Dickens comes back there and tries to explains to me one more time how to poach eggs, I’m gonna fucking gendly lower his face into a pot of simmering water.”

In turn, they each pulled a crate from the stack and sat down in a small circle about a metre from where Greg was standing.

“What are you doing back here?” asked Huang, turning toward Greg. “Grabbing your ass?”

Realizing his hands were frozen in place over the back of his pants, Greg quickly crossed his arms, then lowered them to his sides, then recrossed them. Then he shrugged. Normally he’d be more embarrassed about this kind of thing, but he was too tired for that right now.

“It’s okay,” said Huang. “I touch my ass sometimes too.”

They all laughed.

“Grab a crate,” said Kenny. “Sit down, man.”

“I’m good,” said Greg. “I’ll stand. I’ve just been sitting for like fifteen minutes. I’ve already crate shape pressed into my ass.”

“Whatever, man,” said Kenny. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, put it into his mouth and lit it. “Your shift done?” he asked with the cigarette still in his mouth.

“Yeah,” said Greg. “Mandie took over my last table. Just trying to work up the energy to go home. You know?”

The cooks all nodded in agreement.

[melancholicumsomnia]

[FIC] A Little Miracle In The Volume Part 2

A/N: Here’s the second part of my fic contribution to PEDRO PASCAL APPRECIATION WEEK 2021! Part 2 focuses on the #ppaw2021 theme of the day, Favorite TV show Pedro starred in. Obviously, I still loved Pedro best in The Mandalorian, but his performance as Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones was absolutely exquisite!

Thank you to @pedrohub​ for the incentive to write this little fic. To @pedrocentric​, here is Part 2!

PREVIOUS PARTS

Part 1

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A Little Miracle In The Volume

By

Rory

Part Two

Pedro was limping back to his trailer, struggling against the urge to massage his aching groin. He had just come from the Volume to film a scene with Gina Carano, who plays Cara Dune, and Misty Rosas, who was playing the Ugnaught Kuiil. It was a simple scene actually, requiring their characters to ride through the rugged terrain of Nevarro in order to make their rendezvous with Carl Weather’s Greef Karga. In the pre-vis, they were going to ride blurrgs. In reality, the blurrgs turned out to be mechanical bulls, but with a wider girth. 

Brendan and Lateef had seen the dubious looks he was throwing at the machine and they couldn’t help laughing.

“Come on, man!” Lateef said in between wheezes. “There’s nothing to worry about. That thing won’t buck.”

“Hey! You can’t be Mando just by wearing the armor,” Brendan then goaded him. “You must ride the blurrg. Both Lateef and I have done it, so can you.”

Pedro let out a groan and gritted his teeth at that memory. Even his back was starting to ache in sympathy with his groin. “I guess I’m starting to feel my age. I really need to work out more.”

With his trailer looming not so far from him at last, he quickened his pace, wanting that ice pack he had his assistant prepare for him in the fridge. 

Before he could reach it, however, Pedro’s eyes were drawn to Werner Herzog’s trailer nearby. The German director was seated in front of his trailer beneath a beach umbrella, the Child on his lap. He was watching something on his iPad, which was propped up on its stand on top of a small table. Pedro heard snickers and he whirled to see the puppeteers Tamara Woodard, Kan, and Trevor with remote controls in their hands, hiding behind the crates. 

Deb Chow happened to be passing by and, when she saw the trio, she remarked, “You guys are the worst! You should really stop feeding that old man’s fantasies!”

“We just want to keep him happy,” Kan answered, flicking a knob so that Pedro saw Grogu’s ears go up. Sagely, he added, “We all know the stories about him and Klaus Kinski. We’re not taking any chances.” The others nodded in grim agreement, causing Deb to roll her eyes, mutter “I give up!” under her breath, and march off.

Curiosity getting the better of him in the end, Pedro cautiously approached that imperious figure. “Hi, what are you guys watching?”

Werner glanced briefly back at him and said dryly, “Oh, it’s you.” Going back to the TV show playing on his iPad, he replied, “Since you are playing our stoic bounty hunter, I thought I should explore your previous works. The Child and I were going to watch Narcos, but since it’s about Pablo Escobar, it might be too violent for the little one. So I figured the best option would be your episode in Game of Thrones.”

“Uhm, I don’t think Game of Thrones is also appropriate viewing for a kid that young,” Pedro commented in turn, only to realize what he just said. Wait! I’m talking about a puppet, not a real kid. Oh my God! This delusion is contagious! Grogu looked up then and gave him a sweet smile. But, then again, he’s so cute! Awww!

Werner’s lips pursed in a disapproving pout. “Yes, I know. I was pouring myself some iced tea when that scene of you in the brothel came on. I couldn’t cover the baby’s eyes fast enough, so he was able to catch an eyeful of ample bosoms and buttocks.” He glanced down at the baby sitting on his lap, wagging a finger. “Remember what Grandpa Werner told you. When you see a scene like that, you must never watch, you must never listen.”

Great! Pedro couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes, just as Deb had done. Now, you’re quoting Grizzly Man at him. 

At Werner’s remark, Grogu gazed up at Pedro again. There was no mistaking the now lecherous, toothy grin on his little face and the enthusiastic bobbing up and down of his brows.

Scowling, Pedro turned to the mischievous puppeteers. He mouthed out to them, “Guys! What the fuck?”

In reply, the puppeteers gave him thumbs up and wide, conniving smirks. 

“I should say though,” Werner then began thoughtfully, “I am very impressed with your performance here. Oberyn Martell, a proud, head-strong, and seductive prince desiring revenge for his poor sister… In other actors, the arrogance would overwhelm their performance, making him a figure to be detested or, worse, a caricature of similar characters in past films. But, no, behind that façade is kindness and gentleness. It’s because of your eyes, I think, and your voice. You’re speaking with a Latino accent in this one. You are from Mexico?”

“No, Chile actually.”

“You have a splendid way of expressing your emotions through tone of voice. Very few actors can do that. Brilliant performance, young man,” Werner gave that reluctant praise. “I can see why they chose you to play the Mandalorian. Even if you are not wearing the armor, you can still carry the character on your voice alone. How old were you when you did this?” “

“Uh, 38, 39, I guess.”

“And how old are you now?”

“I’m 43.” Pedro was not sure where this line of questioning was going.

“And it is only now that Hollywood has taken notice of your talent.” The German director shook his head ruefully. “Hollywood has become too reliant on the so-called ‘star power.’ I dread to think about the other precious little stars who are going unnoticed.”

Pedro was touched by Werner’s words. “It’s okay, sir. I’ve paid my dues, done my share of waiting on tables as a struggling actor. In fact, after working on Game of Thrones, I couldn’t find a single job. It took months before I got a recurring role on another TV show, The Mentalist.”

“Now, you have made it at last.”

“I’m not letting this current success get to my head. I know just how fickle Hollywood can be. To be very honest, I still don’t have that confidence. All this…” He raised his hands to the media campus surrounding them. “…All the work that I’ve been doing in the past few months, it still seems like a dream to me.”

“And that’s a very good attitude to have. Always be true to yourself. Show people who you truly are.” A wry, fond smile formed on Werner’s lips. “I suddenly remembered Klaus Kinski. He had been extremely difficult. He was a man with serious mental health problems. But he never sought to disguise his true self. It made it very hard for people like me, his family, and other people around him. Despite his foul temper, his brutality, it is that frank, straight-in-your-face honesty, I think that’s what I admired most about him.” 

Pedro chuckled. “At least, I’m not hot-tempered like Klaus Kinski.”

A towering hulk of a man marched onscreen on the iPad and Werner gasped. “That is no man! That’s a grizzly bear!”

“That’s Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson, one of the world’s strongest men. He played Ser Gregor Clegane, aka ‘The Mountain Who Rides’, in Game of Thrones.”

At that moment, a bright idea suddenly came into Pedro’s head. Should I dare ask him now? He did just praise me after all. Maybe he is already starting to accept me. Okay, I will!

“Uhm, Mr. Herzog?” Pedro began shyly. “Since you liked my past performances and appreciate my worth as an actor, may you please allow me to spend more time with the baby?”

Werner turned to him sharply, his eyes flashing like daggers. “I appreciate your worth as an actor, true. But it absolutely has nothing to do with caring for this baby.”

Pedro was crestfallen. Still, he persisted, “Sir, please. I promise you that I will and can take good care of the baby. My sister Javiera…she often entrusts the care of her kids to me.”

“But they are not your children! You are a bachelor.” Werner looked him straight in the eye. “How could you be a father to this Child when you aren’t one?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, sir, this Child is a puppet.”

“Then how can you commit to playing a father when you cannot immerse yourself in the fantasy?”

“But how can I commit when you’re keeping the Child all to yourself?”

“I have only three episodes to do in this TV show. I want to make the most of this time I have with him. We have just started filming. You have an entire season to bond with him!”

“No, I don’t! I still have to finish my commitments with Wonder Woman 1984. I only have a single episode with the Child this season, so my time here is short!”

Because the two men were arguing heatedly, none of them noticed that the Child was still watching the episode on the iPad. He was staring enrapt as the trial by combat between Oberyn Martell and the Mountain commenced. Many times, Grogu would look closely at Oberyn’s face and then gaze up admiringly at Pedro.

But then, the Mountain struck back with a vicious blow, knocking out Oberyn’s teeth. As the Child watched in growing horror, the Mountain placed his fingers over Oberyn’s eyes and pressed down.

Both Pedro and Werner were shocked when Grogu let out a high-pitched scream, his eyes wide and waving his little arms frantically. A quick glance at the iPad and Pedro realized why Grogu was in a state of mortal terror.

Before Werner could stop him, Pedro scooped the distraught Child up and started rocking him, patting his back. Grogu kept shaking his little head, rubbing his brow over the soft cloth of the cape hanging above Pedro’s collarbone.

“Sssh! Don’t cry, Grogu,” Pedro whispered soothingly in his ear, being careful that Werner did not hear the Child’s name. “It’s just a TV show. As you can see, I’m okay. He never hurt me.” To his relief, his gentle reassurances gradually calmed the Child down.

Still stunned to silence, Werner could only watch with mouth agape as Pedro placed Grogu back on his lap. To his credit, the Child raised his arms to him, wanting more hugs. Despite his longing, Pedro just gave the little one a gentle smile and a pat on the head.

“Stop watching my past works with the Child,” Pedro scolded the German filmmaker. “None of them are appropriate for kids, except for that one Touched By An Angel episode. I wouldn’t even recommend The Great Wall because he might get scared of the Tao Tei monsters.”

Having given the final word, Pedro limped off to his trailer to get that ice pack and some much-needed rest.

Neither man noticed the perplexed group of puppeteers behind them, all of them staring down at their remote controls. Kan even took to giving his controls little shakes.

When their fellow puppeteer Jason Matthews came over, Trevor asked him, “Hey, Jason! Were you controlling the puppet just now?”

“No, I was in a meeting with Dave.”

Tamara interrupted, “Did you install a mic on the kid because we just heard him scream?”

Jason stared back at them. “What mic? You know that any baby noises will be added by the sound guys later.”

Kan gripped a startled Jason’s arms. “We saw the Child move…by itself! And he also screamed, like a real baby!”

Jason grabbed Kan’s hands and slowly lowered them. “Get a grip, will ya? It’s probably just a minor malfunction. Get the puppet from Mr. Herzog and we’ll check it out.”

“But…but…”

“No buts! You shouldn’t have been playing with it to begin with. You AND Mr. Herzog.”

The puppeteers then walked off, leaving his confused crew behind. 

“But…but…we did see the Child move by itself!” they argued back feebly.

TO BE CONTINUED

[zoessecretjournal]

Monday, April 19th, 2021

Today was a great day! I didn’t sleep so well despite the full on beach day we had the day before. It was Taylor’s last day here, unfortunately we really only got to say goodbye today as I was leaving at 11am this morning to meet up with Ryan. I let her sleep in my bed and she gave a groggy goodbye as my Lyft approached the apt. On the way to Ryan’s I listened to Shygirl and started out the window, trying to stay cool. It was the first time I would see him since all of our serious talks, and he had been spending the weekend trying to help Kathleen get to LAX (she mixed up the dates apparently) so I expected him to be tired. I got there around 11:30 am, dressed in my chartreuse green baby doll dress with a white soft tee underneath. My gold earrings, white tennis shoes and gold lobster broach as accessories, and a natural style face. When he came to collect me from outside he certainly looked tired, but happy to see me. When inside, he complimented the color of my dress and drew in to kiss me, and then he held me for a long while. He genuinely gives really good and meaningful hugs.

As soon as I sit down on the couch he plops his head on my lap, wanting me to scratch his head. I tell him he’s just like a cat and he gives me a look to suggest “so?” in a cute way. Whenever I scratch his head, he always ends up doing it to me at the same time, as well as using his other free hand to hold mine or touch me in some way. We stay this way, catching long gazes at each other intermittently, for about half an hour. He asks me about my Hinge profile and how I must have a line of suitors. I tell him about my date with Daniel and how cringe it was, but not before he asked if I kissed him!!! I lie and say no, because I never wanted to really kiss Daniel in the first place. We have fun reveling in how basic Daniel is, and then Ryan proceeds to tell me about his coffee date with someone this week with someone from Hinge. Apparently she is also “ethically non-monogamous” and only wants to make friends. Whatever.

Then we decide to walk to his car to head off to the LACMA. Ryan shows me how they just laid out new tar on his street and someone had ruined it by driving on it, he really isn’t happy about it apparently. I honestly don’t really understand the big idea, but maybe I would care if I drove. On the way to his car he is of course quiet and a really slow walker, I feel like I fumble all the time trying to keep his pace while traversing the uprooted side walks of East Hollywood. Ryan thought he got a ticket as we were walking to his car and my stomach dropped, knowing how much that has effected other people I’ve dated in the past. Thankfully it ended up just being a “thank you” note from someone he helped get a spot behind his car. I could breath a sigh of relief, honestly. On the way there he held my hand, put his hand on my though, squeezed my fingers while catching my glance a few times. He doesn’t talk much in the car and I’m learning he really shows that he cares in a lot of non-verbal cues, which is so different from the Ryan I knew as a friend.

At the muesuem, Ryan gets a iced espresso before we get in. The place was pretty empty and we weren’t in a rush, it was a nice change of pace to be outside with him somewhere in the day time. Ryan took a second picture of me (The first was while i was sitting on his couch) in front of the dome next to the LACMA. Both were prompted by him, which made me feel pretty good. During the Nara exhibit, I found that I was much more talkative, I actually expected him to make jokes about more of the art but there were none! He didn’t even laugh at some of the funny ones! I respected his approach though, very contemplative. There were some really beautiful pieces, and I take a long while to stop and stare at everything. I really appreciated his patience and how he kept pace with me, he was interested in seeing it all with me.  The big paintings of Nara’s work were pretty amazing to see up close. I’ve seen a lot of this work in art books, but those photographs and scans can never capture the way the skin of the character’s look in person. They literally look alive, you see all the blue, pink and yellow hues that make a breathing person, but with this simple illustrated, petulant face. The eyes were also a kaleidoscope of colors, his techniques I've tried to commit to memory. especially the white dot technique.

After the exhibition Ryan thanks me for inviting him, saying no one ever invites him to things like this or things in the day time. I ask why he thought that was? He replied “I don’t know, covid?” and then he sings “or maybe I’m secretly cancelled!”. I wish I would of said this at the time, but I suspect it’s because he’s sober, and I hope that doesn't happen to me. He asks if I am hungry, and I say that I am, he suggests Korean BBQ by his place, to which I agree. We drove down 6th st which apparently he had never gone down and he remarked on how beautiful it was, it certainly was, I had missed it. We still hold hands, and even tighter this time as we make our way to K-Town. We both order the Bulgogi and while we wait for our take-out order Ryan discusses with me his thoughts on the exhibit. He spoke about how long Nara had been an artist and expected to do the same style over and over because it’s what sells and rarely to those artists get to do other stuff. He then started relaying it to his own work and how dispensable art is and how we just eat content like McDonald’s. I agree with him, I explained how I felt disenfranchised for those reasons as well. We get our food eventually and head back to his apt. On the way back from the car, Ryan makes a few stories on people leaving bagged dog shit in random places in his neighborhood. He doesn’t have a lot of shame when it comes to his musings in comedy. A quality I both admire and am fearful of. When we get inside I take off my shoes and spruce up a little. We eat in his kitchen next to his two open windows with the honey suckle veranda directly outside. We both had a non-alcoholic beer with our meal which was surprisingly good.  I can’t remember much about what we talked about, I think we just were eating and played footsie a little bit.

He invited me to lay down with him in his room after we were done, so I followed him there. We laid down for some moments, very close and comfortable.I was caressing him all over, I genuinely like to do that with my partners, but specifically Ryan, hes very receptive to touch. We end up kissing and he stops and asks me if I really want to do “this” and I tell him I do. We end up having sex twice, both times Ryan tries hard to focus on me cumming. I don’t but I think he thinks I did the 2nd time. For some reason I’m having a hard time with that, and also getting wet, but I still had a great time (I was really close though) . We felt closer some how, less stress involved. I even fell asleep with his head in my chest. When he woke up, he woke me up. He caressed my neck and grabbed my face to look at it, my eyes still half-way closed. He gets up to go take a bath and I slowly come to and retrieve my phone and go sit in the kitchen next to the open window. I respond to everyone I can, Matt (from Hinge, who I met yesterday at the bonfire) had messaged me to tell me he was free all week, and he was making carbonara if I wanted to stop by. I think I’m going to see him tomorrow.

When Ryan gets out of the Bath and dressed (in a matching green playstation shirt might I add) he puts on a podcast, gets a sparkling water and lays down on the couch. I assume, no room for me, so he wanted to be alone. He was quite quiet as well again. So I decide to purchase somethings from amazon (sewing machine, humidifier, etc) and when I finally put my phone down I look over at Ryan and he was looking at me. He immediately puts his arms up to say “Come here”. As I approach he says that I can lay on him any way I like, face up, down etc, and so I lay down on him stomach down so I can still see him, and he starts to massage my shoulders. We listen to this podcast for awhile like that, and talk about random things relating to it. at some point they get onto the topic of Randonautica, in which I explain to Ryan, who had never heard of it, what it was all about. As I’m explaining it, he downloads the app! I had dared him to do it, but he actually was really interested. Funnily enough, the pin it dropped was right in between his ex-gf’s apt (Dani) and his good friend Shawn’s apt (Who they both date apparently) which really freaked him out. But just as he got the pin, his friend Shawn messaged him on facebook! He looks at me bewildered and asks if I want to meet his friend Shawn and go check out the pin and I agree. I had expected to sleep over but felt instantly rejected, but realized we had spent a lot of close time together so I should just deal with my feelings right then and there. Ryan gets my attention and re-assures me it’s just because he hasn’t had much space the past few days and he had a really lovely day with me. His serious tone made me feel better and I assured him that I was ok.

Before we head out I ask if we can take a Polaroid together, unfortunately both times they are incredibly blown out. He lets me borrow a jacket of his, even though I just gave him back his sweater and we head off. I tell him that I have a bunch of mushrooms I’ve been waiting to take and ask him if the next time we hang out if we could do them/he could babysit me and he enthusiastically agrees. Even though I tell him I am quite the handful on them in large doses, he had a look of reassurance that he can handle it. We’ll see.

We arrive in the area and walk to the pin, Ryan points out where Dani lives as we pass by. The pin was behind a residential gate with an old mustang stored in it, with both its hood and trunk open and a shovel up against it. Ryan tells me his “intention” he set for it was for us to see a UFO, which there was none. But we did see a cardboard cutout of Vegeta from Dragon Ball Z, so I guess him being an alien is close enough. We walk to his friend’s house, which Ryan had the access code memorized, they must be very close. Shaun and his friend seemed to be working on something music oriented for a game as we walked in, Shaun was very nice and welcoming. We end up talking for awhile and he offered me a Kombucha, Ryan seemed to really enjoy himself and liked that I got along so well. We hung out probably for about half an hour and then decided to head out so Ryan could take me home. He asks me how I’m doing and I say that I am having a really nice time, and he looked really happy about that and confirmed he was too.

On the ride back he had his hand on my thigh and I had my hands on his hand and the back of his neck, giving him a light massage while we listened to the tail end of that podcast. When we get to my place he tells me I should borrow his jacket again, that it looks nice. I tell him that I’m going to be busy all week but we will see each other soon, he tells me he is also going to be pretty busy. He reiterates what a great time he had that day and gives me a deep kiss and a long hug. We part ways and I arrive back home to tell Johnny some of the snippets of today while I respond to all my messages on my phone. I ate sushi and got ready for bed. Ryan texts me a bit in the evening, telling me again! how nice today was and what he was up to. It felt really easy and nice.

[roseprincesskristina]

New Year Love

((Since this is the true conclusion of 2020 despite of all the gun violence, pandemic, deaths, sadness and such. But now, everyone begins with a new chapter for 2021. For this story, humans and reploids are more prepared for the millennium of a lifetime, saying goodbye to the old year by making way for the true beginning of the future. While the two Maverick Hunters are, on the other, are enjoying their new year celebration by spending with each other in private at HQ, especially Zero's room. Before reading, it involves yaoi. So if you are not a fan, then you don't have to read this fiction. But, if so, you're welcome to enjoy this story. Anywho, without further ado, please enjoy reading and Happy New Year! 😊🎉🎉🎉🎇🎇🎇))

Midnight has slowly made its way by the appearance before the starting event of this evening's New Year extravaganza party here in Abel City, where the white diamond orb of light ascended into the middle of the dark sapphire skies, sided with a few stars twinkling beautifully like the precious gems or the clear oceans. Crickets created a quiet chirping sound for the soothing mood when it comes to nighttime, fireflies brighten their bottoms into the flashy shade of green for an even more peaceful atmosphere all across the earth. Humans, along with reploids, are surely hyped up for the conclusion of this previous year due to the endless cycle of maverick revolution ruled by the infamous king of all irregularities and former commander of the band of hunters, Sigma.

Few or many lives have been revoked into death, cities crumbled from certain attacks, and to cease the existence of all mankind to all the strongest robotic kind to rule the universe for eternity.

With every bit of hope have almost been decreased hastily, but thankfully, a duo of elite crime busting hunters have intervene the former mad commander's ambitions as well as to destroy his schemes in puny smithereens. One of them is the pure hearted B Class gun user who despises the unyielding feud between machines and man with the possessed potential. The other one is the serious, too cool for school A Class beam saber wielder with a non reckless strategy and lacks the practice of mercy towards enemies. Together, they're known as Maverick Hunters. Humanity's last hope for achieved freedom from disasters. Battling their paths throughout a horde of those who would follow their master's footsteps, especially the eight criminals that use to be hunters from before. Dueling against the arrogant rabble rouser in purple named Vile, and finally, ending the nightmarish nightmare by defeating the big boss himself. Numerous times in fact, no matter how many times he resurrected himself, but always dismantled by the irregular hunting crusaders. Peace has been restored at last, cleansed by the virus of villainy, where everyone began to applaud towards the hunters of foiling their enemies dreams. And this, where it all began, the true combination of both reploids and mankind living as one.

Meanwhile, back at the present time where everyone, as well as the Maverick Hunters, have began their special occasion at the Hunter HQ garden fields. Decorated everyone including the new year drop ball for the later countdown. While the guests are partying, having a wonderful time together, chatting, enjoying foods and drinks, taking turns with their speeches about others who made their lives even better if it wasn't for them during the crazy year, and lastly, telling of their new years resolution. Folks and reploids are remaining by having a blast. Even the rousing young prototype who is now a hunter, Axl.

Elsewhere away from the gang, the two droids, X and Zero, are relaxing in one piece alone inside of each other's room, enjoying their new year solo time in the dark. Mouth connected all night long without ever wanting to stop, caressing their backs smoothly, grinding on one's  armored bodies to force out the satisfy moans from the lower part of their stomachs.

"U...Unh~ Oh Zero~ Please don't stop yourself from polishing my body~ I... I kinda love it when you massage me~" Moaned the shy hunter of the 17th unit, intrigued by his crimson partner's soft touch across him. Letting out his pinkish tongue before panting, pleading for more.

"X~ You know I love it when you're enjoying my hands placed on your gorgeous little ass along with your body~" Aroused the blood colored mentor, kissing his lover's entire body with a starving attitude. "I want more of you, baby~ Your softness and nature have cured my cursed bloodlust from the past~ I lost control of myself, but now that you're here by my side, I felt peacefully comfortable around you~"

"Zero~ Zero~ I don't wanna live in this new year without you~ You're even more important to me that lifted my spirits~ Reminding me of your inspiration has made me the symbol of peace, helping others in need and beating Sigma with my full power and your courage that help me succeed~ It's all thanks to everyone who guided me, especially you, my love~"

"X~ You also done the same thing when I was acting too serious during my missions~ Refusing to accept anyone's help but to work on my own turfs, becoming stubborn every time someone wanted to help, and I'm very sorry for calling soft because of your emotions and sympathy towards your foes~ It really inspired me to be myself and still as cool thanks to you~ Nothing would put a smile upon my face more than your words of kindness which filled my cold broken heart~ So, thanks again, baby~ You really made my day~"

Influencing each other with the gallon of appreciation, sided along a plate of love, the cuddling couple resuming their enjoyment together by lip sucking like there's no tomorrow or next time. Making out all crazy on the bed, tongue kissing, giving one a naughty spanking for being a bad reploid. Comforting each others well beings or souls by their warmth, ignoring useless judgements by flushing them, along with hatred, down the toilet where it belongs. Living within their less colder shadows with full confidence, snuggle into one's shoulders without getting lost in the middle of nowhere but ridicules from anyone possessing a haughty personality. Watching out or got their backs when it comes to danger, filling in due their absence from missions or meetings.

"Zero~ What would be your new years resolution~?" He asked, but was already aware of that answer.

"It's obvious, babe~ To stay by your side for as long as it takes~ Cause I'm not going anywhere now that you're alone with me~" The upperclass hunter replied, pulling his cerulean closer to him for a deeper smooch as well as the desperate taste.

"I would think of doing the same thing~ I felt very strong hearted around you, Zero~" The kind spirited lower class smiled, responded with a kiss while being pulled towards.

"Mmmm~"

"Mmmmm~"

Their longing silent mouth connections have shut off the horrible memories that bother them, as well as their focuses, replacing all of it with each other's images to help them relax and regain control once again. Leaving everything in the past behind them or to never look back. For a harmonious year to come very shortly, two hearts have finally conjoined into one.

"Zero~ I love you~ With all my heart~"

"I love you, X~ Even if it means to sacrifice my life to protect you~"

"And I will always be your guardian angel to help you rise up when you're going to give up~"

"And I'll be your undying strength when you're giving out~"

Outside the Hunter Base, the entire crowd is completely prepared for the exciting countdown to be announced. Their hearts began to pump a rapid beat to helping the blood increase greatly. Even the teen shape shifter has felt this hyped up since his first promotion of becoming an irregular destroyer. They all have directed their attention upwards the skies for the fireworks to burst after the millennium ball has descended.

Inside, both the maverick stoppers wrapped themselves into each other's arms for a permanent embrace. Cherishing their hearts with tenderness and softness clothing their surroundings to form a private barrier around them without interruption from anybody.

"Thanks for being here with me all these years, Zero~ Having you by my side has really put a grin on my face~" X said gladly, feeling the endless warmth from his mentor's hand keeping him company.put

"Anytime, X~ You've done the same for me since we met~ Everything would be a living hell without you~ I'm glad that peace has been brought back because of you~" Replied Zero, smiling towards his young lover into his grasps. Happily being with one another forever, away from the densed insults showering them. But to be praised by those with positive traits around them that assist their mysterious potential to proceed further instead of stopping. Earning complements and friendships that never ends. Also, to be there for all reploids and humans.

"And mostly ~.... "

"But most of all~...."

And finally, the backwards counting has commenced as everyone joined in. While the two lovers would approach each other for a new year kiss.

The crowd starts to count: "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!"

Both irregular fighters have reached into their faces saying this before the reunited lip mashing.

"You are my everything~"

"You are my everything~"

The entire audience have shouted "HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!" as they cheer roaringly, while both lovers have kissed at last. Hearing the booming effects of the bursting fireworks into the air, lighting on their armors into the middle of a occasional deep smooch. All kinds have continued their fun during the beginning of the new millennium, hoping for it be far more better than this year. And as for the B and A Class heroes, well, everyone is already aware of their new year resolution: Staying by each other's side no matter, even when it means to sacrifice their lives.

"Happy New Year, Zero~"

"Happy New Year, X~"

"And... I love you~..."

"I love you too, baby blue~... Never forget it~"

"Oh Zero~"

"Oh X~"

"Zero~"

"X~"

"Zero~...."

"X~...."

"Zero~..... " Whispered the peace admiring buster bearer, proceeding his face towards his loving partner closely.

"X~...." Same goes for the scarlet swordsman, meeting his cute teammate's face for a preparing lip to lip sucking as well.

The duo are now continuing their holiday moment with each other alone by meeting lips once more, allowing the rest to enjoy their evening as well. Hopefully, this new and improved chapter will become much more tranquil than the unending disasters happening from the old year. Wherever there's trouble hidden itself out of suspicion without ever to become noticed, the inhuman hunting dream team will always get the job done quickly and over with. All humans and reploids will forever live as one, no matter the difference or appearances, everything will be possible.

The End

Happy New Year, everyone!

[routestosalvation]

Chapter 1/?

Characters’ introduction here.

Word count: 2021

                                         ❅                 ❅                 ❅

As far as the eye could see, rotating lights accompanied the sound of sirens, some fading out and some become louder by the second. Incoherent voices overlapped as bodies hurried in different directions under the darkness of the night. Helicopters with the blinding flashlights hovered over the bridge while rescue operations were carried out.

 We need a crane at 31st road.

    He’s humming. He’s unconscious.

         She’s okay, Ma’am. Let’s get your wounds attended to now.

You’re strong. You’ll make it.

     Not responding!

            There’s one more body under the truck.

I’ve never seen something like this before!

 Municipalities trucks arrived as ambulances and police cars left, two hours of clearing the area under the heavy fog. Tens of vehicles were towed, resembling nothing close to what they looked like before. The capital’s central hospital had every doctor and surgeon called in. The media talked the whole night, everyone’s eyes were glued to the screens of their phones as the names of the dead were announced on official sites.

The whole city was awake.

Please let them make it!

                                       ❅                 ❅                 ❅

A jolt of painful sensation jerked his arm off the keyboard he was typing furiously on, the keys screaming not to break them, as the intern who was glued to his side liked to say every time he caught him trying his best to match the speed of his digits to that of his thoughts. Dew winced as he rubbed his arm and wrist, this had been happening more frequently lately, but he’d been too busy to get it checked.

“Again!”

The intern, Pert, blurted out as he dragged his chair to be seated at Dew’s side, disregarding the initial resistance Dew put up as Pert pulled his arm to inspect it and massage it.

“You’ve been typing since five in the morning, it’s already ten and you didn’t even eat a thing. Look at your body falling apart already! Last week your back, the week before it was your chronic headache, the week before it was your neck, and now your arm.” He paused for a moment, an unusual behavior that confused Dew momentarily, but Pert was quick to continue ranting about how he didn’t look after his body, and it finally brought a defeated smile to Dew’s face.

“Fine. We’ll go have breakfast together,” Dew gave in.

He needed the break for his hands to rest so he could be more productive later. Pert broke into the widest smile and nodded too many times, so fast it worried Dew he’d dislocate his neck.

The café Pert had been bugging him to visit was across the street from their office, located in the middle of the busiest street in the city that hosted three of the major media companies in the capital. The café occupied the whole front of the building, glass front allowing daylight into the otherwise dimly lit interior. The name of the café, The Hub, displayed in white cursive on a black marble wall above the two entrance doors.

A long marble counter faced the entrance, and one side doubled as a serving table, with black bar chairs that contrasted with the white surface of the counter. There were plants in small white marble pots hanging along the wall next to the stairs leading to the second floor where most business meetings were held in the quieter environment.

Pert started skipping as they approached the entrance and was the first to enter, jumping in his place as he turned to Dew with the brightest smile and pointed to where they should sit. “We can see outside, but you won’t be bothered by someone else sitting next to us” He explained, to which Dew smiled and raised his brows in agreement.

Dew was feeling out the leaves of the plant placed at the center of the table when Pert whispered “You look like you’ve never been out in public before. Rapunzel!” The look on Dew’s face accompanied by the soft head shake showed that he knew Pert was going to call him that.

“You’re my----”

“You’re here!” A joyful voice interrupted Pert, causing him to jump in his seat and turn abruptly to see the waitress, whom he hadn’t seen coming. The menus were placed in front of them while he tried to pretend nothing happened, but the hand that was patting his back and the apologetic smile made it clear he wasn’t good at hiding it.

“Aw Hun sorry, I got so happy to see you.”

“Why are you here?” Pert waved a fist playfully, and Min’s smile grew wider.

“They just needed help with covering the shift, so I stepped in,” She glanced at Dew then continued, “I see you brought a guest.”

“Ah this is Dew, I told you about him before. Yes, I finally managed to drag him. Maybe---“

“No Maybes, he will definitely love it here.” Min leaned closer and whispered to Pert while making sure Dew could hear her. “Bring him when we have our specialty dish,” She winked at him.

Both glanced at a confused Dew whose hands were holding the hard-cover menu as if he was trying to push it through the table. Min was quick to grab the I-pad from the table next to them where she had left it when she walked to their table.

“If you prefer to check out the pictures of all plates, I can show you.” Her gaze was on Dew who nodded to her suggestion. After showing them how to navigate it, she stepped away, letting them decide.

“How many times have you been here already?” Dew asked after Min left with their orders. “You two are friendly alre---”. Before he could finish his words, he rolled his eyes mentally and looked up to see Pert’s smile. “Of course! You befriended the whole company within a week, why am I even surprised!”

Dew snorted and smiled to himself as he recalled how Pert knew the life story of everyone in their office by his third day, or how everyone who got in the elevator on their way to another floor started talking to Pert like they had known him for ages; it was his second week at the time, and those were colleagues from other departments! Dew has been at the company for four years, and he still barely exchanged words beyond greetings to those working on the same floor.

“So are you going to stick to ignoring Tul?” Pert had his arms crossed on the table, gaze fixated on Dew with the world’s curiosity reflected in them, a look Dew had gotten too familiar with by now. He narrowed his eyes at the intern and mirrored his stance.

“I never ignored him.”

“You know what I mean,” Pert replied

“No.” Dew lifted his index, pointing to Pert. “That’s something you made up before convincing the others of your theory.”

“Dew, come on!” Pert sighed. “You are the only one turning a blind eye to this. It’s too obvious.”

“We only talk about work. It has always been like this. Why---”

Pert threw his head back, letting out another sigh, and throwing his arms dramatically in the air. He was done with the older man. He couldn’t tell if Dew was playing dumb, or if he was trying to keep whatever is going on between him and Tul a secret.

The next thing he hears is the sound of the camera, and Dew’s victorious smile before looking up from the picture on the screen to give Pert a good view of how pleased he was.  

“I swear I’ll get you good for this.”

“Mhm, of course.” Dew nodded nonchalantly, returning his camera to where it was on the chair. “How many funny pictures of me have you managed to get so far?” Dew challenged with a quirk of his brow.

“You’re always like this!” Pert whined, shoulders dropping.

Dew smiled and leaned back, allowing Min to place the plates on the table.

“Enjoy your meal” Min sang her words cheerfully and hit Pert’s shoulder lightly with the empty tray as she walked away.

Pert held onto his utensils and waited eagerly for Dew’s comment on the food, his eyes wide open like an overexcited child.

Dew shook his head at the younger boy. The first bite of food was almost at his mouth, when he saw his phone screen lit up. The name of the caller replaced his expression with a serious one, and he was quick to pick up the phone.

“At the Hub,” he replied.

“Yes, he’s with me.”

Pert saw Dew turn serious at the display of the name of the caller, and his body leaned forward once he picked on the absence of greetings. Pert raised a brow with a knowing mischievous look towards Dew, who didn’t respond.

Not even a minute of listening to the caller had passed, before Dew got up, picking up his camera and throwing a knowing glance at Pert, leaving his wallet on the table and gesturing to him that he would get the car before leaving the café

“I had a feeling this would happen.” Min and Pert mumbled at the same time as she hurried to pack their meals into boxes, as well as turning their hot beverages to go. Her coworker who seemed to have been directed by her, was already behind her with the card machine to process the payment. Min ran back to Pert with a bag and rubbed his back.

“Take care, hun.”

Pert got out of the café just as Dew pulled in front of the entrance.

Tul, who was now on speaker, informed them of the site they needed to be at.

“Anything is valuable, Dew. Anything.”

When the call ended, it took the two a few seconds to exchange looks and let out a sigh.

“He really could’ve assigned anyone,” Pert blurted out. He waited for a reaction from Dew, but his mentor loved to play the melody of silence. Pert picked Dew’s coffee from the paper bag and handed it to him. “Here.”

Dew’s shocked look was met with a small smile.

“Yeah, Min is used to me having to rush out so I guess she was expecting it,” Pert explained.

“I covered a music festival two years ago, that’s all I know about the entertainment industry. I don’t understand why he assigned this story to us,” Dew said in between sips.

“I can name at least three people who would be delighted to take on this task,” Pert added.

“It confuses me,” Dew continued as he glanced at the map on the screen to make sure he didn’t end up driving down a congested road.

“Which part of it?” Pert paused between his words, worried he would make Dew change his mind about sharing.

“All of it.”

The hint of hope Pert might’ve had was now left at the last signal, he threw his head back again, and leaned back in his seat. Shadowing Dew was not easy. While most people at the office spoke their thoughts, Dew’s words remained in his head. When he spoke, many details were left unsaid, and it was hard to follow his train of thoughts.

“It’s Grim by the way.”

“Oh.” Pert lifted both feet on the car’s seat as if he was about to hug his knees, and started searching on his phone. “Doesn’t seem like anything is going on.”

“It must be one of Tul’s sources,” Dew replied.

Dew reached in the backseat to grab his camera after parking the car in front of the biggest entertainment company in the country. “Anything?” He addressed Pert who had spent the remainder of the drive looking up Grim.

The intern squinted as he looked at the sign on the building then turned to look at Dew. “At the lion’s lair!”

Dew shrugged and got out of the car. “An adventure!”

Pert snorted and followed him to the entrance, “Nothing I didn’t know about before.”

“Well, I’ll need you desperately then.” Dew whispered as they walked in, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.