#Guess who put this in drafts again instead of the schedule for an hour after the other one?

[soulsxng]

If my oc's were misinterpreted by fanon, pt 2:

Ezra

Sweet sunshine baby that can literally do nothing wrong ever. They'd completely glaze over the whole addictive personality thing, or only make it a thing if it only gave him cute, palatable little quirks that are going to have absolutely no effect on his health and wellbeing.

Would probably be portrayed as a pillow princess.

I can also see people portraying him as a crybaby, just because he's always been pretty open about his feelings. And that apparently translates to being an overly emotional crybaby to a lot of people?

His curse is another thing that would be severely downplayed, or used for kink fuel. Or it would be just be forgotten about entirely, because it doesn't fit the sunshine baby mold.

Jaspern

Stuff about Jassie would be pretty mixed, I think-- mostly because of his relationship with JJ. There'd be a lot of people that paint him as an unfortunate single father that has never done anything wrong when raising JJ...and then there's be the opposite, where people say that Jas is/has always been abusive toward JJ, and is a terrible person because of it.

Him being a recovering alcoholic would probably be mostly ignored or erased.

Less sarcastic, more asshole. But people say it's fine because "It's hot" when he's mean.

I don't even think I would be capable of listing all the ways people would screw with his marriage to Kalliah. Or even his friendship/familial thing with Nel. Probably a lot of erasure, or a lot of people complaining the the girls are "in the way" of whatever other ships they wanna push. Would probably also say that his relationship with Kalliah was toxic or abusive in one way or another.

JJ

This one is tough. I can see him being a character that the fandom really loves, but gets him all wrong at the same time. Painting him to be this completely selfless, "gives anyone a chance", bordering on naive at times type of person is one way I could see it going.

Sort of "happy-go-lucky" protagonist syndrome type of thing. Completely undaunted and able to accomplish anything he sets his mind to easily.

Would completely ignore the fact that a lot of the things he does/has done is because he feels like he doesn't know who he is. Yes, there's the whole wanting to protect his loved ones thing, but beyond that, he feels like he's always lived in a way that other people have needed or wanted or expected him to, and wants to figure out where he wants to be. That would all be tossed aside for the most part for the false confidence that he usually tries to show, instead.

Possible Mimi erasure, because again, "he gets in the way of shipping" Unforgivable tbh.

Lerato

He'd either get the "He's so misunderstood!" treatment, or the "He's absolutely psychotic and bloodthirsty all the time" treatment. A lot of his curiosity, and the sheer amount of knowledge and wisdom that he has would probably be thrown by the wayside.

Never Without Joseph (@sansloii). And if he ever is apart from his beloved husband, he's a complete wreck the whole time, unable to function in any way that matters. They're one and the same, don't you know? They never have conflicting opinions and beliefs, or disagreements, or anything like that.

I feel like a lot of people would ignore his paternal side, too. Or if they didn't, it probably wouldn't be to say anything good about it. I can already hear people saying that the reason Ber's the way he is, is because Lera neglected or abused him in some way, or that he was just a bad parent in general.

...Another one that I'm not sure why, but I just get the feeling that there would be at least one group that would try to paint him as being unfaithful to Joey at some point.

Meinyr

There would be one group that plays up his drug addiction and makes him seem like a wild, out of control playboy that's constantly chasing his next bed partner or his next hit.

There would be an opposing group that downplays his addiction to the point where it is, or is almost completely non-existent. Because it's not "pretty". Because Mei could also be painted into the "Princely" type of person, the addiction wouldn't really fit nicely with that image.

Alternatively, his whole character centers around his mommy and daddy issues, and it ends up woobifying him a lot. Gives him a more "damsel in distress", or "Needs someone else to fix him" sort of vibe, almost

On top of any of those tropes would also be the dumb blonde trope. He's got no thoughts in that pretty head of his at all, whatsoever. Who knows how he manages to run an entire kingdom of Hell like that. His family probably does it for him, or he got lucky when hiring workers.

[hughessdemon]

Do you even miss him ? || j.Hughes PT.2

Social media au -

summary - you haven’t interacted with the Hughes after since Jack draft until recently when you returned to New Jersey for an event .

Ever since I moved to California the night of Jack draft , I haven’t been communicating with anyone in Michigan. My parents seemed to disown me respectfully understanding I guess ? More specifically I haven’t spoken to my best friend Luke neither Quinn . I stopped and changed my number afterwards when I arrived , I didn’t want to have communication with anyone back home especially Jack , why would I break him more if I answered his calls , his nonstop texts hurting us both . Anyways I have had a nonstop schedule with award shows, films to writing music for my albums . Most of my award winning songs were always about Jack but I never hinted at it due to fear fans finding out . Even though they probably knew who he was due to the NHL draft , my phone went off couple of time in the span of seconds knowing it was my publicist telling me my schedule for the next week .

S.P : you have been scheduled to hockey private event on May 2nd , 2022 in New Jersey you’ll be representing whatever hockey team you want . Xxx

that text put me in a moment of distress and disbelief, like was she joking or is she being serious that I have to attend a private hockey event ? and before my birthday really , I couldn’t even reply back due to shock , oh instead I immediately called Trevor Z yeah we kept in contact well he’s the only one who did everyone seems to cut me off . The phone was ringing a bit which was annoying since he always picks up fast . “Hey what’s going on Y/n?” As you hear him speak you sighed “I got chosen well invited to a private hockey event in NJ.” you whine telling him , you could hear him laughing at the other end but also worried knowing how it might end bad . few moments of silence you hear him laughing again “well I’m going if that helps you .” amusing as it was to him you were nervous “haha you’re so funny Trevor what a wonderful way to help me.” Trevor got serious again “ I can be honest here and ask why tf you would be invited to a event like that but I won’t ask , anyways all I can say is the whole Hughes clan is gonna be there so is …” Trevor paused not knowing what he was gonna say you asked “who else Trevor?” curiously wondering who is he talked about . “His girlfriend is gonna be there as well.” Your breathe halted for a second, not knowing what to say or really anything. You pushed your feelings away , “okay and what do you want me to do about that Trevor ?” Trevor seemed shocked when you even said that .. it wasn’t something he wanted to hear really , he always loved you and Jack together especially knowing you would always save him from Jack anger issues . “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or honest?” Trevor says at the end of the line . You faked a good attitude to hide the hurt in your voice , after all you’re an actor for a reason . “I’m being honest Trevor I left to be where I am today I knew what would’ve happened the day I walked out of the room , ignoring his calls . I’m happy for him he deserves nothing but happiness..” you lied through your teeth knowing you’re not happy he moved on but it was your fault at the end still … Trevor brings you back to the conversation by breaking the silence “ anyways you wanna flight out together since you’re an hour drive away from me ? I can have you picked up on the 31st at 6:00 pm ?” you nodded “yeah sure just text me three days prior so I can mentally prepare myself for your annoyance .” you laughed as knowing Trevor was offended by that as he hung up on you .

||May 1 , 2022||

you arrived to NJ , few hours back it’s currently 4 pm , you were chilling in your hotel room with some friends you decided to bring along to hide the fact you’re gonna see your ex and his new girl tomorrow night. Vinnie , Jack , Jett and Avani became your closest friends ever since you met them in 2019 when you guys all stupidly decided to live together, becoming roommates with them was a nightmare in the beginning as we were all just new and awkward around each other . Hiding every time when someone when to the kitchen . Back to the topic yeah ever since we got here Trevor ran off to be with of course Hughes family , you didn’t really care as you had your publicists running you and your friends over on behavior and how to stay engaged with people for tomorrow night , since they’re all influencers it makes us our job easier knowing what to do and how to act . There always been a rumor about me dating Vinnie since we were always close together, I’ve been spending the holidays with his family for like 3 years now . His mom and dad became my parents , while Reginald became a little brother to me . But we never cleared up the rumors because it was useless , anyways we went out for dinner and came back the hotel to knock out early for tomorrow big event .

|| MAY 2, 2022||

next morning was so bad , we all struggled waking up on time , hung over and all . Jett sitting up staring out in oblivion asking me “do we really gotta get up this early .” as if I enjoyed it being awake at 9 am , I heard my phone dinging receiving a message from Jack and Trevor , curiously ignoring Jack message I looked at Trevor’s message.

T.Ziggurat : I’m excited for today but also terrified for you didn’t even have the guts to mention to them you’re appearance tonight . Okay bye im shit bent right now happy early birthday dukie 🤘🏼.

as always Trevor reminding you , the Hughes family will be there and not mentioning you to them seems cute as he protected you from the fact you probably would’ve had Luke up in your hotel room asking you too many questions , that you weren’t ready to answer yet . “Hey Y/n what should we do for you birthday since we close to NYC wanna head out there after all this?” You hear Lydia say while sitting to fix Avani nails , Lydia arrived this morning last minute as a surprise which made me think they’re all planning some wonky crazy party again this year for me . “ I don’t know what should we do ?” As the door rips open to Jack yelling “MAY THE 4th BE WITH YOU!!” laughing at the star war pun for your birthday.

Few hours passing

you were done getting ready, matching with Vinnie in Ami and the others wearing other designer brands they represented, fixing up as you head to the event . Sitting nervously looking out the window , voices of people around you sounding like water to you as you’re panicking when you arrived to the carpet . Vinnie opening the door for you , giving a slight smile towards you as while you’re thanking him “don’t be nervous if he looks at you ima make sure to eat him alive with my own eyes .” Vinnie says making you feel little better as you laugh at it off . Making it through the carpet posing and taking solo shots , you all make it inside , holding on for dear life as your feet started to hurt . Your publicist points at your table for everyone to be seated but you and Vinnie weren’t allowed to sit as you guys were being introduced to higher people in NHL , few people you have met before . The event was about to start when your team told you and Vinnie to make a speech on behalf of Ami sponsoring this event . you haven’t ran into any of the Hughes yet or Trevor yet whichever was a good sign to you . “Now I introduce you to the these two young duo who one have changed the music industry and acting industry as well with her young age making award winning movies and the other one having girls and guys swoon over him with his work and talent in gaming and fashion , both working and living together to achieve their dreams….. Let’s have Y/N and VINNIE HACKER up on here on behalf of Ami!!!” you laugh as you walk up the stairs to the stage and Vinnie helping you up , “thank you for having us tonight it’s a honor to be here for Ami and being in a room full of amazing people tonight.” You say ending your little speech as Vinnie about to start his speech , you look around to see your friends laughing and having a good time, cheering you both on . Corner of your eyes you can see the Hughes looking at you in awe mostly Luke and Quinn , Jack seems to shocked silently as he seems to be busy flirting with his girl , you’re ignoring eye contact with anyone else for the moment as your attention got brought back to you leaving the stage , handing the mic off to your publicist . Vinnie basically hiding you with his 6’1 built body from eyes of Jack as you both walk to your table sitting next to Avani , she came close to you whispering “I kinda wanna punch him they’re all staring too.” You smile as you tell her “ I hope they don’t come over here making me feel uncomfortable.” The whole night was actually great , you were having a good time talking with everyone around , Trevor giving you side eyes from the Hughes table making you feel bad for him being stuck there but it was his choice anyways . End of the event , you were about to head out when you felt a hand on your shoulder seeing a somewhat a 6 foot big foot towering over you , “damn when did you get taller.” You said to Luke looking at him dazed out , Ethan and everyone you used to go hang out at school with was behind him smiling at you awkwardly, Luke speaks up asking “you don’t even care to call me back even once I thought you were dead!” Luke silently yelling at you , feeling bad as you see Luke tearing up a little as he pulled you into a hug “ I missed you Y/N.” He says gripping on as if you’re a ghost . You smile a little “I’m sorry I left like that but I also lost your number sorry Lukester” . You lied a little bit not wanting him to know you didn’t wanna hurt him by telling the truth. “You know you have my Instagram right you could’ve contacted me there too !!” “I’m sorry really Luke.” he lets you go from the hug as the other boys came in to give you guys Ethan spoken up asking why you haven’t came home for summer break curiously . “I just been busy 24/7 I rarely get a break when I do I just sleep in maybe one day I’ll be back home one day …” you smiles at them awkwardly wanting to go back to your hotel room , Jett came to your rescue in the moment “Hey Y/N let’s go the car is waiting for us to go already.” You knew Jett was lying but you were glad to be saved -

[meichenxi]

Obsession, ‘productivity’ and habits vs routines: starting learning in a healthier way

cw: perfectionism, obsessiveness, allusion to eating disorders, depression, anxiety (very non-explicit) I’m going to be writing a series of posts from some asks I’ve had waiting for me, on how to build a cohesive language learning routine, but I wanted to preface that first with something we talk about less than we should in the language learning community: obsessiveness, perfectionism, recovery from mental health, and how to approach language learning in a better way. If the personal stuff bores you, feel free to skip the first two paragraphs. 

I have been trying to ‘be more productive’ - in healthy ways, and unhealthy ways - since I was about ten. If you don’t fit in, for whatever reason, hobbies - and especially creative or ‘productive’ ones - are a wonderful escape. They make you feel that it’s ok not to have friends; they let you look down on all those other stupid children with all the misplaced arrogance of every single bored, clever pre-teen. When I was twelve, I realised there was no point eating with people that didn’t like me and went to the library instead, because that was ‘dead time’. When I was fourteen, I realised getting the bus was ‘dead time’, and started doing Anki for two hours a day. When I was sixteen, I realised walking was ‘dead time’, and started either listening to podcasts or talking out loud. By the time I was eighteen, I was doing four A-levels in school, an EPQ, teaching myself an extra Latin GCSE, and taught myself the Spanish A-level in 3 months right before the exam. I also worked out for two hours a day - because eating lunch was ‘dead time’, and sleeping was ‘dead time’ - trained martial arts four evenings a week, tutored twice a week, had a part-time job as a waitress, played the flute in a prestigious orchestra, and was 150,000 words deep in the first draft of a very gay, Norse-mythology inspired fantasy novel. 

I had it all under control. My marks were excellent; I was a well-rounded person, musical and sporty and already decently on the way to becoming a polyglot, I was training to be a teacher, and I had plans to publish my novel. My home life was painful, but I was painfully independent with what I now like to call the ‘Elsa complex’. Or, actually, like Zuko: I could look after myself, by myself. It was all under control. 

I guess everyone can see where this is going. School ended, and with it came endless, open days. I fell apart. 

With endless surprise, I can now say that, four years later, I think I’ve come through the worst of it. I still have tendencies to get obsessive, but my anxiety and perfectionism are a lot better, I don’t dissociate, and I have - gasp! shock! - actual interest in life again. I never wrote that novel, but I’m still gay and still love Norse mythology, so I’m slowly finding my way towards writing again. What people don’t tell you about getting better, though, is that trying to define yourself, trying to find yourself, as a person who exists without mental illness, is very, very hard. Many of the things that you used to identify as core components of your personality or important values may have changed, and you may be hesitant about trying to take up hobbies that you used to enjoy because you recognise - and rightly so - that the incessant drive to be doing something, all the time, didn’t necessarily come from anywhere healthy. That those things which you clung to and which protected you may actually have ended up harming you in the end. A lot of figuring out old patterns of unhelpful thoughts involves realising that the things that you defended or framed as helping - weren’t. That’s a hard thought, especially because those mechanisms developed to try and protect you, one that’s immeasurably sad. 

Seperating your reasons for doing something obsessively and your love of it in the first place, before it became unhealthy, is difficult. And it means that when you feel - finally, finally - ready to start tackling something like language learning again, you end up sorting of approaching it sideways, shiftily, as if you’re hoping to trick yourself into it. It’s a delicate thing, like a baby bird, and it’s dangerous too, because if you do everything which you did before - the only thing you know how to do - it’s not going to work. And every time it fails is personal, because being able to do it again represents getting better, and reclaiming parts of your identity mental illness stole, and it hurts.

I’m writing this post because somebody asked me about my approach to creating a successful language learning routine. And I do have a lot of thoughts - but I wanted to preface that post with this one, to say:

If you are reading this to be more productive, if it is becoming obsessive, if you want to fit the most possible language learning into the tightest schedule possible, STOP. Take care of yourself. These tips for ‘productivity’ are for people who want to learn a little bit more about organising their time, and are in the right space to add more learning to their life. If you are only defined by what many hours you get done a day, if that’s what motivates you, these tips are not for you. Look after yourself. 

And on that note, here’s a confession: I don’t have - have never had - a successful language learning routine. Because of what happened, the only way I can keep going and prevent myself from falling into bad habits is if I approach it sideways, if I pretend I’m not taking it seriously, because I know if I don’t things will go wrong. But I want to be honest and upfront because I know a lot of people read my posts for advice and say that this doesn’t work for me. It might not work for you either. I especially know there are a lot of conceptions of successful langblrs with 7, 8, 9 etc languages in the title - that that we spend 5 hours a day on Anki, fall asleep to Glossika, and so on. And it’s especially important to mention now, because I feel like my language learning habits have only started being healthy in the last year or so - essentially since I started actually enjoying Chinese media. I could teach you how to cram every spare second with language learning, or how to successfully pass an A-level in 3 months with no teachers. I was good (and arrogant, and cocky, and needed bringing down a peg or two). But I won’t.

What I do have are succesful language learning habits. Apart from being a generally more flexible appraoch for all learners, the advantage of building successful habits over a fixed routine is that it allows for learning according to different in energy levels, how busy you are, what you find difficult and what else is going on in your life. Most crucially for me is that it is always a much healthier approach, because what I do is not based on number of hours, or number of units a week, or anything quantifiable that allows me to get obsessive again or frustrated that I’m not doing enough. 

Routine is important, especially when it comes to routinising daily tasks. The only thing I have is that sometimes - on good weeks, and once or twice even shockingly on good months - I have a decent Anki streak going. That’s it. I don’t listen every day - I don’t read every day - I certainly don’t do grammar every day. There’s nothing specific I do every day, though I usually rack up a good few hours of immersion or study - to be honest, I fail at Anki probably at least 60% of the time. Everything else - all these tips I have written about - I do as and when. Framing it in such vague terms makes it sound like I must have an extraordinary amount of motivation to keep going, that maybe I’m just lucky to be interested etc, but that’s really not the case. What I have done to keep learning regularly and somewhat successfully (I hope!!) without limiting myself to a routine which I know I will starting obsessing over is tying specific language learning behaviour to certain moods or levels of concentration. 

All routine is just habit. Habit, with a ribbon and packaged nicely. But allowing yourself to adapt your learning to the circumstances gives you more flexibility than any strict routine, and is more sustainable in the long term. What building habits rather than a specific routine does is allow you to learn what works best when, what works when you’re tired, and what is best to do when you have energy, or when you want to watch a show, or talk to people. It puts you at the centre of your language learning, rather than framing language learning as a central part of you. 

So how can we build healthy habits? How can we utilise ‘dead time’ whilst keeping it light, and fun? How can we adapt our language learning for times when we are tired, and stressed? Or what about when we don’t have time to give 100% of our attention or concentration? How can we identify our own strengths, our own weaknesses, and unite these with our personal goals to figure out what to prioritise in active studying, and what to do when we don’t have the energy for that? 

I’ll give my thoughts on all of these over the next couple of weeks, in what I hope will be a comprehensive overview of how best to practice, addressing everything from how to practice speaking to how to start as a complete beginner. If you have any thoughts or interim questions, or if you’d like to add your own experience to anything I have said, please feel free to!

In the mean time - 

chenxi out. 

[bunnyywritings]

when worlds collide

kozume kenma x fem!reader [LDR]

[a/n: hehe this gif is cute 🥺this was buried in my drafts so I edited it a bit, I’m slowly getting my motivation back so uhh yeah, enjoy! -yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´- ]

He met you during one of his late night gaming sessions. You had tried to speak to him in English and he felt kinda bad for not being able to formulate a good response. Boy was petrified when he mumbled to himself about how cute your voice was and you had responded in Japanese.

From then on, there was frequent chats on discord and whatnot before the both of you had built up the courage to finally do a video call. He realized he was in love with you when you had joined his Minecraft server with Kuroo, Lev, and Hinata. You had gotten along with them so well. Just hearing you joke around and tease them made his heat happy.

He was hesitant to confess since you guys were 5,000+ miles away AND there was a 16hr difference between the two of you. Kuroo talked some sense into him and he ended up telling you while he was visiting your Island in animal crossing...it was so wholesome.

After getting a hang of each other’s schedules, things got easier and since it was summer, the both of you had time goof off on minecraft or on animal crossing, or just be on video call and send each other tik toks and memes. However, lately there had been a strange lull in conversation and whatnot. The distance was starting to take its toll on the both of you. He had just gotten accepted to the same Uni that Kuroo was currently attending, they had moved into an apartment off campus together because Kuroo absolutely despised his current roommate.

“So, how’re things with (y/n)?” Kuroo asked as they both carried the last boxes into the living room. There was a small silence that followed before Kenma sighed rather heavily and Kuroo just knew that it wasn’t good.

“Honestly, I don’t know...I thought they were going well but lately there’s been a weird lull. We’ll talk but it’s always very short before she’s making up excuses to go or something.” The edges of his lips twitched downward as he plopped down onto the couch.

“You didn’t make her mad or anything, did you?” Kuroo was trying his best to act neutral. He knew the reason you had been “ignoring” his buddy lately and he was trying to keep it on the down low.

“I don’t think so? I’ve tried to think of anything I could’ve said or done but I can’t think of anything.”

“Maybe she’s just busy? Isn’t she also just starting her freshman year of uni?” Kuroo quirked an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right but still...she could’ve just said so.”

After Kuroo had cheered up his best friend, they ordered some pizza and he had told you that you might want to put your plan in motion sooner rather than later.

You had just gotten off the plane when you received his text and reluctantly agreed. Sweats and dark under eye bags isn’t really the first impression you want to make but you really did just want Kenma to finally hold you in his arms. The thought was almost overwhelming.

Getting into the taxi, you gave the address that Kuroo sent you and you were on your way. It took a few hours but you finally arrived and made your way inside and to the elevator. Heart pounding as you slowly approached the door. You could hear the familiar sounds of Mario Kart muffled through the door, with a shaky hand you tapped your knuckles against the door. Basically hearing your blood rush though your ears, your heart almost stopped when the door opened.

“Well look who’s finally here.” Kuroo whispered before completely stepping out and closing the door behind him. He pulled you into a quick hug and introduced himself. “Are you ready?”

“Uhm y-yes and no...” He chuckled at your shaky response and opened the door again, motioning you to step inside. Taking a deep breath, you stepped passed the threshold of the door, pulling your luggage behind you. As you walked down the hallway, your breath hitched and your eyes started to water as you caught sight of the familiar head of “pudding”colored hair.

“Kuroo what’s taking so lo-“ he turned, freezing when his eyes met yours. His voice was much more soothing when it was unfiltered, much fuller and deeper.

“Hi sweetheart...” your voice cracked the slightest bit as you noticed his eyes glossing over.

“Oh my god, (y/n).” He got up from the couch, remote violently clacking onto the floor as he rushed over to you. You barely had time to react as he pulled you into an embrace, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Tears had finally started to trail down your cheeks as you wrapped your own arms around his shoulders and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I can’t believe you’re here...”

Kuroo smirked, his own eyes watering a bit as he walked into the kitchen to give you two some space.

“I can’t believe it either.” As you said this, he clutched onto you even tighter, afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear. Much to his dislike, you pulled back just a bit. Hand coming up to gently caress his cheek. Warm amber eyes gazing into yours.

“C-can I...can I kiss you?” Cheeks turning a deep pink as he asked, to which you immediately said yes. Heart swelling at the fact that he wanted your permission first. He held your chin deftly between his fingers and with the utmost gentleness, pressed his lips onto yours. It took you a moment to process what exactly was going on but you had finally melted into the kiss, lips moving together languidly with want. Needing to finally feel each other’s lips moving in sync. Turning your head the slightest bit, he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. The feeling of his tongue foreign yet welcomed as you tangled your fingers into his soft blonde locks. A small groan leaving his throat.

“Alright alright! If you’re gonna be like that then get a room!” Kuroo groaned, making both the both of you jump away from each other. “I don’t wanna listen to the two of you sucking face like that.” He childishly gagged. Your cheeks burned furiously at his words, choosing to bury your face in Kenma’s chest instead.

“Don’t tempt me to take that offer.” The cocky tone in his words shocked both you and Kuroo. “But since we’ve already got the switch set up, why don’t we play something.”

Kuroo offered you some pizza, which you gladly accepted and you made your way to the live room. The three of you played for a couple of hours but when your eyelids started drooping and you were constant falling off the maps, they decided that it was enough for the night.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Kenma whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. You weakly protested as Kuroo pried the remote from your fingers.

“You’re falling asleep at the wheel (y/n). That’s extremely dangerous.” He snickered. After brushing your teeth, you snuggled into bed with Kenma. This was kinda like when the both of you would be on FaceTime before in bed and sleep but a thousand times better.

“When do you have to go back?” He asked, hand under your shirt and tracing random words and shapes into your skin.

“...I’m not going back.”

“Huh?” He tried not to seem too excited but you could definitely tell. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I got accepted to yonsei. I’ll be going to school with you guys.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He was slightly upset that he wasn’t able to celebrate with you.

“Well, I didn’t want to ruin this plan or give you any false hopes just in case I wasn’t actually accepted.”

He sighed and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “Well I’m glad you’re here.” He chuckled softly when you yawned a couple times. “I’m sure you’re very tired from your flight.”

You nodded, humming in agreement. “It was a long 12 hours but I’m here.” Your voice was slurred with sleep.

“Go to sleep kitten, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Neither of you separated the entire night. So when Kenma woke up, there you were. Head resting on his chest, shoulders rising and falling with every breath you took.

It was well passed 12 in the afternoon but he didn’t care, he’d stay there with you in his arms for a lifetime.

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱(open) : @ohbois-biggay-bnha @yuiji-yuiji

[k-writesthings]

Early Mornings

I wrote this because I’m in the mood for some happy Levi Content, especially after Chapter 133, where my man is just BROKEN.

(Also this is x Reader because I want to try my hand at writing these, please let me know what you think!) 

(And it’s first person because I’m not comfortable writing second person yet)

Word Count: 1655

Warnings: Cussing, Intimate Touching (SFW)

      The soldiers of the Survey Corps had either seen too much or not enough. There was no in-between, because just one Titan attack would change the cockiest bastard into a war-weary soldier. That’s what happened to me, and that’s what happened to every other scout, too. With that sudden shift came night terrors, hallucinations, and shell shock. You’d be lucky to wake up and not be in a cold sweat after seeing, smelling, and hearing what I and so many others have. It plagued you, haunting your dreams, your thoughts, your life. And often, you couldn’t escape.

    But sometimes, when you were safe…

   You could forget. 

    Lazy mornings would help me forget. The memories that weighed on my conscience would slip away, melting into the seams of what I understood as I snuggled under the covers. The warm morning light cascading over my face would remind me of where I was and nothing else. A warm body next to me would let me know that I am loved. And I was alive, carefree even, for however long we were nestled beneath those blankets.

   This was one of those mornings. A particularly nasty dream roused me, yanking me from my sleep like a fish caught on a line. It was shocking and sent my senses into overdrive, making me gasp for air as my eyes shot open. And then I realized. I wasn’t in danger, not at that moment. And I wouldn’t be, not for a while.

   My fear subsided quickly, dissolving into a low hum of adrenaline that was guaranteed to keep me awake. The air was chilly and there was a slight draft in the room, probably from small gaps in the old walls. I yanked the covers up and over my shoulders and shifted to my side to keep out the cool air. I was faced by the man sleeping beside me, causing me to lose interest in my slightly cold shoulders. His sleeping face was a look of pure peace, something I would never see grace his features otherwise. Always worried about something or another, always stern and expressionless; that was the way Levi went about his everyday life. And while I knew he wasn’t actually an uncaring bastard, mornings like these proved his humanity, and made me love him even more.

   I rarely woke up before Levi. He was an insomniac and usually only stayed asleep for about three hours. It was a blessing whenever he slept until after sunrise. He was also a lot more tolerant of everyone and everything when he slept for a healthy amount of time. That meant less stress for him and more sleep the next night. That cycle might continue for a couple days or maybe even a week, and I’d love to just see him well-rested and calm. But mostly, my favorite thing was waking him up when he slept in.

   Today, Erwin had planned a meeting with Premiere Zackly about funding for the Regiment, and then Hange scheduled a training session for our three respective squads. As much as I didn’t want to wake Levi, I knew I had to. I glanced outside to get a feel for the general time. The sun was already ascending into the sky and the rays danced across his skin in time with a wind-blown tree that stood outside our window. A small smile played on my lips as I brushed some stray locks of hair away from his eyes, which were still closed. My fingers wandered to the back of his head as I scratched the short hair of his undercut. He let out a soft, unconscious groan at the touch.

   Surprisingly, Levi craved physical affection, just not in public. But, when we were alone and in bed, he was usually touching me in some way. Whether it was just resting his foot against my leg, or cradling me close to his chest, there was almost always contact. While I wasn’t complaining, I quickly realized this was because of a lack of affection in his childhood. Much like with his obsessive cleaning stemming from growing up in dirt and squalor, he needed affection to make up for what he didn’t have in the Underground. And I was always happy to provide it.

   I peeled back the comforter a bit to expose Levi’s shoulders and back, marred by bruises and areas rubbed raw from his frequent use of the ODM Gear. I leaned over and pressed kisses along the strap indents. We both loved when the other would pay specific attention to these areas, and it was how Levi usually woke me up. I was just returning the favor. As I continued my affectionate assault on his purple and red skin, his breathing began to quicken, and I could tell he was waking up. 

   “Hey, baby.” I whispered into his ear and pressed a kiss to his temple. He groaned again and I felt his hand come up to stroke the small of my back. “I can’t believe you slept so long. I almost didn’t wake you, but Erwin planned that meeting at noon.” 

   Levi’s eyes opened slowly and met mine, his icy grey irises cutting me to my very core. He closed them again and tugged my body closer to him, nestling his head into the crook of my neck.

  “Damn Titan-sized bastard…” He spoke lowly, his voice sending vibrations through my chest. I giggled at the sensation and brought a hand up to rub the back of his head again. Levi sighed in contentment before he pulled away and looked me in the eye. “Did you sleep well?”

   “As well as I ever do, I guess. I can’t stop seeing last month’s expedition in my dreams, but that always seems to happen.” My voice shook as my thoughts suddenly ventured to that shit-show. It was the highest amount of casualties we’d had that year. There was a sudden fog bank, which separated my squad from the rest of the Regiment. We-

   “(Y/N).” Levi’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. His hand was resting on my cheek as I met his eyes again. He still looked stern, but there was a specific sense of concern lacing his features. “Don’t think about that right now. There was nothing you could do.”

   I let out a quick, huffing chuckle as I leaned my forehead against his. “I’ll never understand how you do that.”

   “Do what?”

   “Read my thoughts.”

   The tiniest smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “It’s cute that you think it’s hard. You have an expressive face.” 

   I rolled my eyes at Levi’s teasing and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. They were usually chapped and rough, but I had been making him put on a salve before he went to bed to save his perfectly kissable lips. They were nice and soft against mine, now, as he deepened the kiss. Without breaking our connection, I flipped Levi onto his back and straddled his waist, cupping his face in my hands as my tongue broke through his slightly parted lips. He moaned softly and grasped my waist. I felt his lips quirk up in a smirk against mine and savored the moment with him, knowing I wouldn’t get to touch him like this for almost twelve hours.

   I reluctantly pulled away from our make-out session and listened to Levi’s heavy breathing. My eyes slowly opened, though I didn’t realize I had closed them in the first place. Levi’s eyes were still closed and there was a deep blush on his usually pale cheeks. I smiled, knowing I was the only one who could do that to him. I rolled off of him and laid against his side, resting my ear against his chest to listen to his thumping heartbeat.

   “Levi?” I raised my head to look him in the eye. He was still blushing.

   “Mmm?” 

   “You’re blushing. I made you blush, Captain.” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

   His blush deepened (if that was even possible) and he averted his eyes from my face. “Tch, shut up. I could make you blush.”

   I raised my eyebrows in faux surprise. “Could you now? I don’t blush at much, you know.” Of course he could make me blush, but I was just having fun messing with him.

   In a flash, he was straddling me and leaning down to trail his tongue along my collarbone. The sensation sent sparks to my stomach. But, instead of my face heating up, I just felt the need to laugh. 

   “Levi! You’re just tickling me!” I cackled as he continued his assault. He grunted against my skin and he suddenly switched to sucking and biting at different parts of my neck. And that did make me blush, but also sent waves of panic through me. Before he could do too much damage, I shoved him off of me and leapt off the bed, running to the bathroom.

   “(Y/N)?” I heard Levi call from the bedroom as he followed after me. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” 

   I stood in front of the mirror and stared at my neck. It already was becoming mottled with purple bruises. Groaning, I dropped my head against the glass. Levi put a hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him.

   “You got fucking marks on my neck, you bastard.” I leaned into him and buried my face in the crook of his neck. “I can’t hide this shit, you know that! And we have to see so many people today. You’re the worst.” I mumbled into his skin.

   His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me close. I expected an apology to grace those dastardly lips and I awaited it eagerly. 

   “I still made you blush.”

   “Oh, you fucker.” 

    I wasn’t the only one with a marks on my neck after that comment.

(Alright, that made me feel better. Idk about anyone else, but I’ve always kind of headcanonned Levi as super submissive in bed because he craves contact. This was based off some rumor that Yams had said it in an interview, and I honestly think it’s really perfect for Levi. But that’s just me!)

(This was honestly just to indulge myself, but pleas don’t worry! I have not forgotten about my requests. They are on their way!) 

(Also, please request more Levihan I love them) 

[curedeity]

Summary: After a late night working, Hikaru and Tsubasa hang out, with Kyoya along for the ride. Quiet conversations are had in the dead of night. (These three deserved to hang out, fight me)

    Work was strewn across the table as Hikaru and Tsubasa shuffled through paper after paper. There were emails to be sent to publicity companies, bladers to invite, a stadium to reserve, hotels to contact for discounts for participants. Planning a tournament certainly was a monumental effort of organization.

    No matter how many tournaments Tsubasa had helped organize, he never really got used to the amount of work that came with them, and from the mounting frustration on Hikaru’s face, it was clearly the same for her.

    Hikaru sipped the cup of coffee in front of her, despite the fact that it was nearing midnight. The tournament would be in two weeks, and to stay on schedule she would need to start sending out notifications for the necessary tournament officials already. They’d need a nurse on scene, security, an announcer, etc. 

    Kyoya sat on the couch, every so often looking over at the duo and raising an eyebrow. Tsubasa had invited him to stay in his house while Kyoya prepared to participate in the tournament. When Kyoya had agreed though, he hadn't expected to watch this duo run themselves ragged every night. 

    Wasn’t his concern though, he continued to half-listen to whatever was playing on the television.

    “What do you think about using the Piffling Advertising Agency?” Tsubasa mumbled as he fumbled through some files on his computer.

    “I think they have a good enough track record,” Hikaru rubbed at her eyes as she tried to remember. So much about planning tournaments was just remembering past experiences, but her brain had begun to pull blanks. Who were the agencies that had done good work in the past? Which DJ was best for hometown crowds?

    Tsubasa hummed and started to type out an email to them. Thankfully, they already had a draft format for emails like this, and now he had to just fill in all the openings.

    Kyoya went over and grabbed a soda can from the fridge, popping it open and drinking as he watched the duo slowly try to focus on their computers. This was just a waste of time at this point. With a sigh, he resigned himself to having to get the duo to bed. “Yo,” he tried to get their attention, but they barely even flinched. “Yo!” He repeated again, slamming his hand down onto the table.

    In an instant Hikaru had her launcher pointed at him and Tsubasa had knocked a sheaf of papers off the table.

    “Take a break you two, you ain’t getting nothing done anymore,” Kyoya snarled at them.

    “The fuck was that for?” Hikaru hissed back at him, her chest heaving with uneven breaths. Tsubasa nodded in agreement as he turned to tiredly glare at Kyoya.

    “Listen, if you both want to stay up the next hour trying to write just a single email because you’re too tired to focus, that’s your choice, but you’d be using your time much better if you just slept.” Kyoya rolled his eyes at the two dumbasses. He would’ve thought that with the duo working for the WBBA they’d have learned how to manage a workload, but apparently not.

    Hikaru sighed as she realized the truth behind his statement and cast her eyes toward the clock. It was really time to just turn-in for the night, there was no way she could focus now.

    “You wanna stay here instead of having to get back to your apartment?” Tsubasa asked her. He gestured at the couch, indicating it was hers for the taking. This wouldn’t be the first time either had crashed at the other's house, they’d spent many nights up late working together, and getting home was a bit of a pain.

    Besides, Hikaru had been on the blading circuit for a while, she could fall asleep almost anywhere.

    Hikaru collapsed onto the couch while Tsubasa wandered into his room, Kyoya sat at the table to finish drinking his soda. The whole house fell into silence.

    But no one was able to fall asleep.

    Hikaru groaned as she sat up and turned back on the TV. If she couldn’t fall asleep, at least a break would still do her some good. She curled up and pulled a blanket over her limbs as she watched whatever was playing with bleary eyes.

    It seemed to be a romance movie. But there was also some magic going on, so maybe there would be some interesting action.

    “Can’t sleep either?” Tsubasa asked her as he joined her on the couch, having given up on getting his own rest.

    Hikaru flicked him. “I drank a shitton of coffee, what’s your excuse?”

    “Being an insomniac,” Tsubasa deadpanned. The bags underneath his eyes supported his claim.

    “Take some melatonin then,” Hikaru grumbled as she shared the blanket with him.

    Tsubasa hummed and ignored her. “What are we watching?”

    “Not whatever this is,” Kyoya interrupted, grabbing the remote and switching the channel. He was not going to put up with watching whatever crap that had been. Within a few seconds, he settled on a cheap spy movie.

    “Hey look Tsubasa, it’s you,” Hikaru commented as the spy got caught almost immediately.

    Tsubasa didn’t even have a response for that.

    Kyoya got up from the table and started moving around, shuffling through the junk that had begun collecting around the house. He wasn’t really tired either, but the movie couldn’t hold his attention span, and sitting around was grating on his nerves.

    “What even is that cell?” Tsubasa mumbled as the spy was thrown into what seemed to be the flimsiest jail cell ever. The bars were so far apart that it looked like a person could strut out of there, and the padlock at the door looked like a tap would open it.

    “Paper mache,” Hikaru guessed, her face perfectly flat.

    Kyoya rummaged through a collection of small bottles before lifting one up and wiggling it at Tsubasa. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with nail polish on,” he commented.

    Tsubasa broke away from the TV and looked at what Kyoya was holding, his tired brain taking an extra second to process what had been said. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t been putting it on recently. Been too busy with everything. Used to wear nail polish often though,” Tsubasa shrugged.

    Hikaru wiggled out of the blankets and padded over to look at Tsubasa’s collection. She let out a low whistle. “Damn Tsubasa, you got a lot here.”

    Kyoya picked up as many bottles as he could hold and walked over to the ground in front of the couch, where he sat everything down. “Come on nerds, let me show you how to properly paint nails.”

    Tsubasa rolled his eyes and slid out from under the blanket to join Kyoya on the ground. Hikaru joined them as well, looking at Kyoya with a hint of teasing in her gaze.

    “Which of you wants to go first?” Kyoya asked, gazing at the rainbow of colors he had brought over.

    Tsubasa shrugged. “Sure, show me what you can do.”

    Kyoya pulled out a bottle of purple nail polish and began painting a thin first layer over each of Tsubasa’s fingers. His hands were surprisingly steady as he moved, with barely a drop of nail polish staining the skin. True artistry being performed in the dead of night.

    Hikaru had decided that braiding Tsubasa’s hair would be a good use of her time while she awaited her turn, even then she only had half her attention on it, the other half on the movie.

    The spy was now making plans with the prisoner in the cell next to his, who he seemed to be slowly falling in love with. Somehow, he still hadn’t broken out. Hikaru was pretty sure he could slip through the bars without a bit of effort.

    She stood up and went to heat up some popcorn for the group. Well, mostly for her because Tsubasa couldn’t eat with wet paint on his nails, and Kyoya wouldn’t want to get his grip oily. She laughed at the look of betrayal Tsubasa sent her when he figured that out.

    “You’re gonna want to eat the quick, ‘cause you’ll be up soon,” Kyoya grumbled as he applied the second layer to Tsubasa. “Eagle boy, you gotta stop picking at your nails, these are so uneven.”

    “Fuck off,” Tsubasa responded.

    Hikaru went into the bathroom and got a nail file for them, resisting the urge to throw it for emphasis. It was sharp, her brain reminded her, you cannot throw sharp things, that’s how people get stabbed and in the hospital.

    Tsubasa already had enough hospital trips under his belt.

    “Tsubasa, do you wear any other makeup?” She asked as settled back down beside him.

    He couldn’t shrug with his hands needing to remain still, so he purposefully kept his body motionless as he responded, “Some eyeshadow sometimes.”

    Kyoya rolled his eyes. “I think I remember seeing you once in that, please tell me you were just tired that day and that’s not normally how you put on eyeshadow, otherwise I’m going to have to confiscate it all from you until you learn to do it properly.”

    “I look amazing fuck you,” Tsubasa deadpanned.

    “I’m sure you do,” Hikaru agreed dryly, flicking his hair. “So, you the makeup expert here then Kyoya?”

    “Seems so, do you even wear makeup?” Kyoya asked.

    “Not often,” Hikaru replied. “I know how to put on a full face of makeup, but I don’t want to put in that much effort or want to look like that every day. I wear lipstick every once in a while though.”

    “On the days you go out for lunch with Madoka,” Tsubasa added in, shooting her a sly smile.

    Kyoya retracted the brush just in time for Hikaru to punch Tsubasa in the shoulder.

    The spy and the other captive seemed to have escaped their imprisonment and were now kissing on screen.

    “Put your hands back into place dumbass I’m almost done,” Kyoya huffed.

    “She’s the one who hit me!” Tsubasa protested as he did as he was told.

    Hikaru stuck her tongue out at him.

    In a few deft strokes, Kyoya completed his work, and Tsubasa lifted his hands up and started fanning them.

    “Alright, you’re next,” Kyoya gestured at Hikaru, and she and Tsubasa swapped places. “What color do you want?” He droned as he already was trying to think of what colors would go with her.

    “Blue,” Hikaru answered immediately, which came as no surprise to either of the boys in the room. Her entire wardrobe was made up of blues. “It’s a good color!” She defended herself as Tsubasa snickered.

    Kyoya pulled out a royal blue and began to get to work.

    The spy was now running through a base, a gun in his hands as he shot at the group of enemies. 

    “Is he even trying to be discreet?” Tsubasa critiqued, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn for himself. 

    “I dunno Tsubasa, you’re the only one of us who’s actually worked as a spy,” Hikaru said slyly.

    “Is that what spying’s like,” Kyoya deadpanned, earning a cackle from Hikaru. “Don’t move dammit!”

    Tsubasa shook his head, a breath of air whooshing out from between his teeth, “If you want to continue talking about my undercover activities Kyoya, maybe we should also talk about the time you and Gingka’s gang tried to break into the Dark Nebula. That’s a lot closer to what’s actually going on onscreen.”

    Kyoya whipped his hair up to glare at Tsubasa while Hikaru turned around just as fast to look at him with excitement. “Don’t you dare,” Kyoya warned him.

    “I don’t think I’ve heard about this escapade,” Hikaru grinned. “So they tried to break into the Dark Nebula?”

    Kyoya grumbled as he resigned himself to this.

    “Yes, there was security footage of the event. Yu used to watch it for fun so he could shittalk about what a terrible infiltration it was. I believe it was when Kyoya truly defined his tactic of hitting walls until they collapse,” Tsubasa shared a smile with Hikaru.

    “And it worked damn well,” Kyoya huffed.

    “Sure it did sweetie,” Tsubasa responded without sparing him a glance.

    Kyoya growled as the other two returned their attention to the movie.

    “Alright then bastard, you’re done,” he declared, pushing Hikaru away. She giggled and repositioned herself against the couch, fanning her own hands.

    Kyoya got ready to return the bottles, but Tsubasa laid his hand atop of his, stopping him momentarily. “Come on Kyoya,” Tsubasa said, reaching over and grabbing a bottle of forest green polish. “You did it for us, let me do it for you.”

    Kyoya laid out his hands and watched Tsubasa slowly paint his nails. Tsubasa’s brushes weren’t quite as neat as his, but he was completely focused on the task, his braid falling down to brush against the floor as he leaned over Kyoya’s hand.

    The movie ended with the evil base being blown up. Hikaru was disappointed by how underwhelming the explosion was. She vocalized that very vociferously. 

    They put on some soft music as Kyoya let his nails dry. Hikaru had already fallen asleep against the couch, and Tsubasa draped a blanket over her. They didn’t talk much, only a few whispered comments here and there as Tsubasa cleaned off his Earth Eagle. 

    Within half an hour, both boys were asleep against the couch as well.

    The next day, Tsubasa and Hikaru went into work, their laptops open in front of them with their fingers click-click-clicking away. Both of their nails shone as the light hit them, Tsubasa’s being painted a soft purple with gold glitter, and Hikaru’s a deep blue with pink sparkles. Kyoya went into training and carefully didn’t chip his dark green with silver glitter painted nails as he did launch after launch.

    And if they happened to do their nails more often when they hung out now? Well, none of their friends commented on it more than a few nice compliments. 

[somerandomstrayemo]

This is my story off of wattpad that I had just decided to put here, do not repost, if I see this story anywhere else I will ask you to take it down, thank you :)

_____________________________________________

Prompt: Virgil lends their sweater to Remus. When Remus is home, he realizes he still has Virgil's sweater and finds Virgil's iPod. Out of curiosity, Remus looks through Virgil's music and finds a playlist titled with Remus's name..

Virgil sat comfortably on the couch, casually scrolling through Instagram (yes, FINALLY, something other than Tumblr-). He hadn't had much to do that day since Patton was out getting things for a movie night, Roman was writing the script for a new video, and Logan was out with Patton, probably just out and about to resupply on crofters since he was running low on them.

It was mid February, and due to the climate in Florida it was still quite cold to say the least. Though Virgil didn't mind the freezing temperature due to the fact he almost always wore his black and purple sweater, he seemed almost unfazed by the somewhat cold atmosphere.

Around the evening is when the anxious trait heard light shuffling behind him and he quickly spun around from his position on the couch, only to spot a  seemingly freezing Remus that previously planned on pouncing on him. "Remus? What are you doing here?" Virgil asked, as it wasn't very common for the dark sides to just come along particularly unannounced like that. "Oh the heater part thing in the air conditioner broke over on the dark side and Janus won't let me use his heat coil thingy, so I thought it'd be warmer here, and surprise surprise, it's FUCKING not~" Remus seemed to be speaking in an utterly annoyed an sarcastic tone. Virgil rolled his eyes and tucked away his ear buds, propping his arms up on the back of the couch. "Huh, that sucks now doesn't it" The emo said, still completely unfazed by the situation.

Remus looked Virgil up and down in complete shock. He wasn't shivering, and was acting as though everything was fine. The intrusive side then scoffed and crossed his arms, developing a somewhat snarky attitude towards the smaller side. "How the hell are you so okay with this, it's fucking freezing here! Are you immune or something?!" Remus wasn't very pleased. Virgil made it look so simple and easy to just ignore the cold, it was almost like the emo was taunting him. "Relax Remus, I just have a really thick sweater on. Here, if it makes you feel any better, would you like to borrow it?" Virgil tried to be kind to Remus, as he hated conflict between sides and wasn't one to want to get involved. In fact, Virgil did this willingly, he'd do anything just to see Remus smile just once. It was just a little temperature, how bad could it possibly be?

Remus stared at the emo like he was being taunted once more, but then eased up a bit, seeing there was no signs of mockery in his soft expression. Remus simply gave in, un-crossing his arms and giving a small nod, watching as Virgil then took off his sweater and handed it over.

Remus seemed so happy as he quickly grabbed the sweater and put it on. Though Remus was enjoying himself, this was a decision that Virgil very quickly regret as a cold draft of air hit him like a bus. God it was freezing, yet he plastered a smile on his face as not to let Remus worry. "Thanks emo, this thing really is warm!" Remus said in an almost happy tone. It was rare that Virgil ever saw Remus happy like this since he was mostly intrusive, so like any other side would, he took it all in while he still could. "You're welcome dude, I didn't want you dying from hypothermia, you looked like an angry ice cube." The emo smirked, using his little remark to distract himself from the cold atmosphere. Remus laughed, something Virgil just loved to see, thank god his pale foundation was covering his slightly red face. Though Remus could clearly see how satisfied Virgil was by the decision, and leaned forward, placing and gentle kiss on the freezing emo's face, causing the anxious trait to tense up. "I have to go now Virge, and seriously, thanks for the sweater, I promise I'll give it back" Remus stated happily as he then quickly sunk out. Who's to say he probably snuck out while Janus was distracted, he didn't even give Virgil a chance to speak before he left.

After about a week had past, Virgil had ended up borrowing one of Patton's sweaters, as morality had plenty, so yeah it wasn't his usual style, but at least he was fairly warm. After all, only a few hours after Remus left the week before was when the light sides soon discovered that their air conditioning had broke as well. Back with the dark sides however, Janus had been trying to get Remus to confess on where he had gotten that sweater all week, but as time went on, he had eventually given up. Around this time, Remus was in his room playing around with his mace, he honestly had no intention on giving Virgil his sweater back, as he loved it like his own, but he knew the sad truth was that he had to give it up sooner or later.

As the intrusive side swung hos mace one last time, A small object fell out of the pocket of Virgil's sweater. Remus stopped all he was doing and set his mace aside, picking up the object only to discover it was a dark purple iPod with Virgil's name on it. Being curious, Remus conjured some headphones and plugged them into it, starting to look through his playlists he had saved:

"P!ATD? Of course he would"

"Huh, I..guess.. Billie Eilish makes sense..?"

"ugh, and I think Lofi music would be for his panic attacks, I still wouldn't listen to that"

"AVIVA, again, of course he would."

"MCR, yep, That's Virgil alright, it's sad he only has like 2 songs in this playlist"

Remus went on and on over the playlists, until he came across one that caught his eye, 'reminds me of Remus'. No way the anxious trait really had a playlist dedicated to him, right? Remus clicked the playlist and immediately saw a song that captured his main personality, the one that he used around Virgil:

'Green' by cavetown

Remus had closed the iPod immediately and sighed, he realized the only reason Virgil gave up his sweater was because he cared for Remus, and you know what, that wasn't what Remus had thought at all, he simply thought the emo pitied him, nothing more. Turns out the emo really did like him back after all.

Remus acted quickly, playing a recording of him messing around in his room and locked the door so he could sneak out unnoticed. Once he'd done that he quickly sunk out, hoping Virgil was in his room, and to his relief, he was. Virgil was laying peacefully in his bed, curled up under his blankets, and the room completely silent apart from his very light snoring which Remus had found adorable. Virgil slept in often as he barely got any sleep once the sun set. The intrusive aspect guessed that he fell asleep around 4am today, and he only needed an hour of sleep, but it seemed as though he decided to sleep in the one day Remus decided to confront him.

Instead of waking the emo, Remus had decided to be very quiet and get in bed next to him. If Virgil truly loved Remus, then surely he wouldn't mind.

It had only been a few hours before Virgil woke up, a strong and warm embrace wrapped around his small figure. It had only took him a moment to realize he wasn't alone, quickly turning to look up at who had broken into his room; "Remus.." The younger gently whispered, causing Remus to flutter his eyes open and smile to the small anxious trait in his arms.

Virgil had to admit, he was loving every second of this, he simply looked up at Remus, frozen in silence. He had so many questions; why was he here? How long had he been there? And most importantly, did he even want to be this close to someone like himself. As Virgil's mind trailed off, he felt a pair of lips capture his as he felt his waist was being strattled. The emo didn't resist nor comply, he simply screwed his eyes shut, a few small tears falling from them. Oh how he dreamed of this, how he wanted nothing but to be loved like this.. He'd been longing for someone to love him back...

The kiss lingered for a moment before being broken, Remus placing a hand against the emo's cheek. It was firm, yet so gentle and loving. The intrusive side then used his thumb to wipe away any tears Virgil had, and gave a comforting smile "why didn't you tell me sooner Virgil" he asked kindly, a tone that Virgil rarely ever got to hear. "I was scared.. You'd reject me.." He spoke with pure honesty, and slight guilt for not telling sooner, after all he was the embodiment of fear and anxiety. Though nevertheless, who could stay upset at a face like Virgil's?

Remus chuckled as he sat up, scooping up the smaller trait and placing him in his lap and peppering his face with kisses. "it's okay now love, you don't need to hide it from me anymore, I've got you" Remus sighed out, reassuring Virgil that he had absolutely nothing to be afraid of. A beautiful moment of silence quickly followed those words, and Virgil almost immediately fell asleep in Remus's arms after that. He hadn't felt this loved and relaxed in god knows how long since he was always careful and on edge. It was a wonderful feeling, so great that it put him to sleep. Remus simply chuckled once more, laying his new lover back down as he took his place beside the younger trait, wrapping his arms around Virgil as he then too, drifted off to sleep.

Words: 1694

Sanity: 100%, this was beautiful

My sleep schedule: it's 1am and I have school, so idk, you tell me- :/

[slaveformingi]

The Silent Treatment (M)

READER (y/n) X KIM HONGJOONG (Ateez) Genre: Smut, DOM!Hongjoong, Angst, Slight Fluff Word Count: 2503 Words Summary:  Your anniversary was coming up soon and you had so much planned and prepared for the special date but your boyfriend suddenly reveals that he had an unexpected schedule pop up. An argument breaks out between the two of you and you decide to give him the silent treatment. Little did you know it would turn to something more heated. 

(Author’s Note: Fix On! Once again, it’s 4am and I finally finished writing this piece. Hopefully you like it, I have 5 smut drafts (1 Seonghwa, 1 Woosan, 1 Wooyoung, 1 Yeosang and 1 Yunho) right now but I keep on getting sidetracked or writers block. I guess I’ll upload them when I’m finished with them. Till then, I hope you guys enjoy this one C: )

##

You were pissed.

No, wait.

You were beyond pissed.

You miss the times when things were small and simple, before it all turned complicated and messy. Big things had made its way to bother your relationship but something about tonight was just too much.

There had been many times (too many to count on your fingers) where you had planned for a date with your boyfriend only for him to cancel on you last minute due to an unexpected schedule. Sometimes it was a photoshoot, sometimes it was a fan meeting, sometimes it was a variety show shooting. There also had been times where your boyfriend had to fly to another country to perform with his group mates.

You understood the consequences of dating an idol even before you had gotten into this relationship; always needing to expect the unexpected and to keep the relationship a secret from the public, and somehow, you always managed to pull through it.

But today, you really couldn't keep your cool. It was going to be your 5 year anniversary soon. You had been spent months planning for it. Hongjoong didn't know anything about your plans and you had even made sure with his manager that he was free for the weekend.

You had been in the clear for weeks. But suddenly out of nowhere your boyfriend announces that his company made plans for him, his groupmates and Eden to go to Japan to find inspiration for their next album.

You were arguing about how he should find a way to get out of it. You weren't  telling him specifically why he shouldn't  go for the trip and that made him angry cause you were keeping things from him, which triggered you to get angry at the way he was pressuring you to tell him. 

In the end you were screaming at him because the little things were taking a toll on you and everything just blew out of proportion. It eventually boiled down to the fact he was stressed because there was a lot of things on his plate and you were getting out your emotions at how much you actually missed him, and instead of telling him what you really feel, you ended up screaming things you didn't even mean.

And finally he snapped.

“Could you just please shut the fuck up?!” Hongjoong roared.

You watched the fire in his eyes while you were reeling from the shock of his words. You swallowed your words, seething in anger. 

He had crossed the line. 

There had been more than one occasion in your relationship where you had stressed to Hongjoong about how much you hated hearing someone tell you to shut up. 

When you were younger, you were bullied a lot in school and everyone used to tell you to shut up. Hearing Hongjoong telling you to shut up triggered you.

“Fine!” you fired back, your insides were boiling.

You shot him a disappointed look before you stormed into your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind you and locking it. If he wanted you to shut up so badly, then you were going to give him exactly what he asked for.

You undressed yourself and put on your pyjamas. You threw yourself onto the bed and slowly sobbed into your pillow. You heard music playing in the living room, it was Hongjoong’s way off cooling down and getting things off his mind.

About an hour passed by, the music turned off. You heard Hongjoong’s footsteps approaching the bedroom door and trying to open it.

“Baby, come on.” you heard his voice from outside the door. “I need to go to sleep.”

You remained quiet.

“Look y/n, I’m sorry but I can't clear up my schedule for our anniversary. I promise I’ll make it up to you. Now please babe, just open the door.”

After trying to open the door a few more times and getting no response from you, he eventually gave up and you heard him collapse again onto the couch with a loud sigh. 

You woke up the next morning feeling like shit and got yourself ready for college in silence. Hongjoong was still asleep on the couch, his mouth slightly open as soft snores came out.

It was really hard to stay mad at someone like Hongjoong, but you were still pissed at him.

You grabbed your keys from the countertop and left your apartment. You didn't bother to make coffee or breakfast for the both of you. You just wanted to make sure he didn't hear from you till you wanted him to.

It was almost 3pm, you were in class when you got a text from him. 

{ Hey, you want to talk about last night? }

You choose to ignore his message. It was around 6pm, when your class was over. “Hey y/n.” said one of you friend, “Me and a few others are gonna go get some drinks. Do you want to join us?” 

You hesitated at first before you remembered Hongjoong’s words; “Could you just please shut the fuck up?!”

“You know what. Sure.” You decided to let Hongjoong pay the price of his words for a little. Plus, drinks were exactly what you needed right now.

A few drinks in and you received a call from Hongjoong but instead of answering, you turned your phone off and ordered another round of shots.  

By the time you got home, it was very late and you were barely sober. You unlocked the door and walk in without even looking at Hongjoong who was on the couch waiting for you.

“Where were you? Why was your phone off? I WAS FUCKING WORRIED Y/N!” he said as he leaped off the couch. He grabbed your wrist and turned you around to face him.

You looked him dead in the eyes, not showing him a hint of emotion. You pulled your hand away from him and walked towards the bedroom, nonchalantly untying your hair and taking off your cardigan as you heard him storming in behind you.

“What the fuck y/n?! Fucking answer me! Where the fuck were you?!”

You didn't bother to turn around to look at him, instead you walk towards the bathroom so you could take a shower but before you could, Hongjoong grabbed you by the arm and turned you around to face him.

“FUCKING SAY SOMETHING!”

He stared at you intensely, searching for something, anything. Anything that would give him an answer. Suddenly he caught a whiff of your s mell, alcohol.

“Did you go to a bar or something? Who were you with?!” 

You could see the anger In his eyes, the veins in his neck were visible. It scared you to see him like this, you’ve never seen him so angry before.

You looked him right in the eyes and kept quiet. Not making a single noise. You could still see the shimmer of concern in his furrowed brows but the burn of his eyes was sticking. 

You suddenly realised that you were getting slightly turned on, Hongjoong looked attractive when he was angry but you were not ready to back down and give him an answer.

He was furious.

His teeth were gritted.

His breathing got heavier.

His fingers dug into your arms.

You looked up into his eyes still not saying a word. The situation was getting too much for Hongjoong to bear.

He let out a growl before smashing his lips into yours, kissing you angrily. Your body instantly burned with desire. He looked so angry and frustrated, you could tell he was hungry for you. He turned and slammed you into the wall.

He ripped off your skirt as if he was angry with it. He pulled down your panties and lifted you up, supporting you using one arm as he slammed his hips into yours.

You could feel the power he had over you. Your lips crashed again, he bit your lower lip and forced his tongue into your mouth. 

You let out a gasp when you felt his two fingers thrust into you, his fingers thrusting in you so forcefully, each thrust sent waves of pleasure to your body.

You could feel yourself getting weak from how amazing it felt. You bit his lip and he pulled his face back with a growl.

“Fucking bitch.” he snarled at you.

Something about the way he said it turned you on even more. He never used that kind of language with you before, cursing wasn't his thing. He only cursed when he was really upset, just like earlier that night. Something about him cursing at you made your pussy throbbed. A loud moan escaped your mouth as his fingers mercilessly pounded into you. 

“You like that don't you?” he said as his thumb started to rub your clit, his two fingers still pounding into you. You gasped as your head snapped back.

You were desperately clinging onto his tensed arms to keep yourself from falling. He ruthlessly crashed his lips onto your exposed neck, leaving hickeys all over your neck. The sensation sending goosebumps all over your body. Another moan escaped your lips.

“What was that babe? You finally want to say something?” he said against your neck as he thrusted another finger into you.

It took you ever single strength into your power not to say a word. You wanted to make him work for it but to your despair, he pulled his fingers out of you, you whimpered at the lost of his fingers. A smirk slowly appearing on his face. 

He lifted you up from the wall and threw you onto the bed. He ripped off your t-shirt and tore off your bra, snapping it free from your arms.

You helped free his hard member from it’s “confinements”. He took off his hoodie and throws it across the room. Once you were both naked, he pulls you by your legs down the bed and into his arms again. He brought you up and lowered you onto his member, thrusting fiercely into you.

You bit your lips to suppress your scream, still not wanting to say a word to him. He kept thrusting into you fiercely and hitting your g-spot every time. Loud groans escape his mouth every time he thrusts into you.

He pushed you onto the bed and spread your legs wide. You gasped as he bit your nipple with his teeth. He proceeded to play with your nipple as his other hand messages your other breast. You ran your fingers through his hair as you came. He lets out a groan as he feels your walls tightened around his member.

“It fells good doesn't it?” he said with a smirk on his face. “Well, we’re not done yet.”

He smirks as he looks down at you, you were helpless under him. You had never seen this side of him before. You could tell that by his face that he really wasn't done with you yet. He still hadn't gotten you to talk to him.

He lifted you once again as if you weighed like nothing, rapidly moving you to the centre of the bed, pushing your pillows out of the way. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you into a kiss. 

“I’m going to make you scream my name. Make every single person in the apartment know who you belong to and who’s making you feel this good.” he growled “I want you to scream my name until you have no voice left.”

Your could see the flames in his eyes. His teeth gritted once again. Your body was so heated and full of pleasure. You felt as if you were going to pass out soon and it looked as if that’’s exactly what he intended to do. 

He position his member in front of your entrance and slammed his member into you again, instantly hitting your g-spot. He brought your hands above your head and pinned them onto the headboard with one of his hands. The other hand massaging your clit as his thrusts into you, his face buried in your neck as he left hickeys all over it. 

At this point, you were already a moaning mess. The pleasure was too much for you to handle, you could feel your climax coming. You started whimpering with each of his thrust. You could see from his face that he was close too. 

His thrust got faster, beads of sweat forming on his face. You could feel yourself loosing your strength to keep yourself quiet.

“Yes baby? You want to tell me something?” He said thrusting into you faster, hitting your g-spot every single time. You were going to come, you were so so close.

“Fu-- Fucking hell, Joong-- Please don’t fucking stop! OHMYGOD!OH--iM GOING TO--CUM!!” You screamed his name as you came undone on him. A few final thrust and he came into your hard. Hongjoong letting out a satisfied moan right into your ear.

He pulled out of you after a few minutes and rolled himself off you. Your body trembled, both of you took time to steady your breathing. A few moments later, Hongjoong pulled you into his arms.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry baby. I didn't mean to tell you to shut up. Pleas--Please dont do it again. I was so worried the whole time. I’m -- I’m so sorry baby.” he said choking up on his own words, sounding like he was about to burst into tears.

“No Joong, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have made you suffer. I was being immature and I'm so sorry we had this fight. I guessed I got too caught up in wanting you to be here for our anniversary that I forgot that you don’t really have any control over your schedule. We can wait till your break to celebrate it.” you said as you turned to him and caressed his cheek. He smiled as he pulled you into a sweet and passionate kiss.

“I know our anniversary is this Saturday but I have tomorrow off, we can go for an early anniversary date or something like that.” he said looking into your eyes.

“I would like that, thank you baby.” you said smiling. “Also baby, you look really hot when you’re angry. Maybe I should give you the silent treatment more often.”

He chuckled as he leaves a kiss on your forehead.

“Promise me you won't give me the silent treatment ever again. That really sucked.” 

[smol-and-grumpy]

Sky Full Of Stars - CH06

Sequel to Something Just Like This

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, ex mobster boss, still a little cocky, less ruthless and not at all short tempered anymore. Instead, he thinks he’s hilarious (she doesn’t agree, though). They both try to live a quiet life. And Dean hopes, very hard, that his former life won’t come knocking at their door.

Warnings: NSFW, fluff, and okay, maybe this one is a little more angsty because Dean needs someone to hit him over the head for not telling her the truth.

WC: 3445

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s a month later that they’re invited to Sam’s birthday party and it’s actually the first outing with Ella. 

They’ve held an open house on one weekend where friends would drop by throughout the day to come see them. It was actually Dean’s idea and she agreed because it sounded better than scheduling visitations with all of the people who would want to meet their newborn girl. 

Even Linda dropped by and that woman was all over Ella, didn’t even want to let the little girl out of her sight and held on to her for the whole time she was here. Truffles followed them around either. Poor boy was afraid that Linda would take Ella home with her. 

Sam lives just outside the city, in a suburban big white house with white fences and landscaped garden. It looks picturesque and pretty. It’s a total contrast to their home. It’s more modern, fits more into the lifestyle Sam has. A lifestyle Dean left behind.

Dean carries Ella, of course he does, was the first out of the car and hurried to take Ella out of her car seat, fearing that she’d reach their child first. He grins cocky when he sees Y/N schlepping the diaper bag and a gift for Sam.

She rolls her eyes for the dramatic effect but she smirks, because it’s cute how proud he is. 

Jess sits with Y/N out on their porch while both of them are holding their babies and chat. It’s the second time that Ella meets her cousin Jack and Anna joins them later with Elijah. 

They talk and laugh, complaining too because Anna’s the closest in getting back into her old shape while Y/N still struggles with her flabby stomach the most. 

Dean doesn’t seem to mind her body change at all. Doesn’t seem to mind the excess skin, the stretch marks. Because every time she’s naked, she wants to hide from him, but he’d make her show him, looks at her like he always did, makes her feel like she’s his fucking world. Last time was this morning while Ella was still asleep when they took a bath together and he made sure to touch every inch of her. Brushed his hands across her stomach, let his fingertips trail along her stretch marks. He kissed her shoulder, the nape of her neck, she could feel him hard underneath her. 

They haven’t had sex yet since she gave birth. She wants to wait until she feels comfortable again and he was okay with it, never pressuring her into anything. They did all the other things which doesn’t involve him sticking his cock into her pussy. 

Dean has the patience of a saint and she really doesn’t know what he sees in her. She still has these doubts, can’t help it, even if she knows that she shouldn’t. 

The men are talking together, drinking beers, laughing. And she thinks it’s good. This life is definitely good. 

But then something shifts, she can see it in Dean’s eyes, can see it in the tense of his shoulder when he follows Sam inside. 

They didn’t stay away long, maybe five minutes, ten tops. When they return, Dean looks relaxed again and she’s not sure if he’s pretending like he always used to or if he’s genuinely smiling. Can’t really see if from this far. Sam excuses himself, goes to talk to other people and then she sees Gabriel joining Dean and Cas, sees them sticking their heads together, talking without moving their lips too much. 

Other people might not notice anything wrong or different, but she’s not other people. She’s trained to notice little details and she can’t lie. It’s worrying her.

 *

 Back home she nurses Ella and tells Dean that she needs a quiet moment to paint. Just like Dean uses pottery to find his center, she uses painting. She’s painting every day now, their garage is full with her paintings.

She spends about an hour in there and walks out after, takes a quick shower and slips into one of Dean’s shirts. They’re the most comfortable at the moment and he loves for her to wear them so there’s a win-win right there. She leaves the top four buttons open, it’s easier to get in and out for nursing either. 

It’s already late and she wants to lie down but decides to see what Dean’s up to. She walks down the stairs, but Dean’s not in the living room. She only finds Bubbles while Truffles is at his new favorite place, with that place being right in front of Ella’s room. 

Y/N sees light spilling out of Dean’s study where the door’s standing ajar. 

“Hey,” She pokes her head in, sees Dean sitting in his chair, a black manila folder with a couple of papers splayed on it. The baby monitor propped right where he can always see it. 

He notices her, looks up from the desk. He’s startled at first, but then his lips spread into a warm smile. She guesses that it’s the shirt she’s wearing that does all the trick. 

She walks in and he pushes his chair back, makes room for her to climb in on his lap and she sits on one of his thighs, hooks her arms around his neck and kisses his scruff. “Watchu doing in here?”

Her eyes trail along the desk, sees the papers, a lot of words are written on them. The sight of these little words alone makes her head spin.

Dean takes the stack and hands it to her, “Read it,”

She really doesn’t want to read anything right now but does it anyway of course because she’s too curious. 

Last Will & Testament 

“Dean, no,” She mumbles as soon as she reads the first line.

He noses at her temple while she reads it, kisses her cheek, “Dean, yes,”

She goes on to read more.

In case of my death or disappearance.

“Disappearance?” She asks, it seems like a weird clause to put in and then her jaw drops. She feels some kind of anger, pushes herself away from him, gets up and paces around the room while Dean only watches her, his expression hardens.

“Y/N,” He starts to say, his voice is deep, low. It’s steady and calm like he doesn’t want to raise his voice but putting his foot down. She hates when he does that. It makes her feel like she’s the unreasonable one in here when he’s the one who fucking drafts up a fucking will.

“Are you planning on disappearing? Is this what it is?” She spits out, it comes out more accusatory than she intends and she adds, a little softer, because she doesn’t want to fight because of that, “Are you going to leave us?”

“Jesus,” Dean groans, clasps a hand over his face, scratches at his scruff like he always does when he’s trying to say something so she would get him, “I could never,” He leans back in his chair, looks at her like he always does, like she’s the world, like the world is his to touch and he reaches out a hand for her to take, “But you know what I was. Who I was. You know what I did. People tend to disappear in my old line of work.”

She doesn’t take his hand, and paces around some more, for fucking good measure because she’s fuming mad. She lets out a frustrating sound that comes out of the depths of her throat, “What do you mean? Do you know something I don’t know? Is someone coming after you?”

“No!” Dean shouts, squints his eyes because it came out loud and they shouldn’t be loud if they don’t want to wake up Ella, “No, I’m just trying to cover all bases because you never know what could happen,” 

Y/N waves with the papers in her hands, exhales loudly and walks up and down. When she’s close enough to him, Dean grabs a hold of her, pulls her into him. He hugs her tight, and she knows that he’s not letting her go.

“Read it,” He’s voice is much gentler, his lips close to her ears as he whispers the words.

She sighs before she goes on with reading.

“You’re leaving everything to me?”

“Yeah,” He says and then he moves her, makes her straddle him, his hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair back behind her ear that got loose from the bun on her head, “I trust you to use it in Ella’s best interest.” 

Her eyes get teary. She doesn’t want that. Doesn’t want to even think about a life without him. 

“You’d have to sit down with me, though,” His voice is soft, calming. Rational even. Which means that he thought this through, “There’s a lot of paperwork that we have to do because we’re not married.”

She thinks about his words, lets them sink in before she speaks, “Would you want to? Still?” She asks, and adds, “Marry me, I mean,”

Dean lets out a chuckle, it vibrates underneath of her. “More than you know,” His fingers play with the buttons of her shirt, “But I don’t want to pressure you. I understand if you wouldn’t want to.” 

She swallows her tears down. 

“It drives me nuts to have fewer rights just because we’re not married,” Dean sighs, “If something happens to you, I don’t even get to be at your side all the time and vice versa. You don’t get to decide anything and it actually terrifies me that even though you only have me in your life, I still can’t be with you when worse comes to worst.”

His words hit her differently. She never thought about that. Never thought about what Dean has probably been thinking for weeks or months. And he’s right, she knows he is. It makes more sense now since they already have a child together. It’s in Ella’s best interest. She knows that, too. 

Y/N places the stack of paper blindly back on the desk and cradles his face, the scruff prickles on her palm. She leans her forehead on his, pecks his lips, their noses touch. 

“If you want it, then let’s do it,” She whispers, kisses him once more, harder, deeper and Dean breathes into the kiss.

“Baby, you don’t have to,”

“I know but I want to,” She smiles then, kisses him again to shut him up. 

She feels him grinning into the kiss, his hands holding her tighter, and they stroke down her back until he has her ass in the palm of his hand.

Their kiss grows heavier, like it always does. Everything builds up so quickly.

“Then we do it,” He laughs when he breaks from the kiss and she nods her head, kisses him again, can’t quite get enough of him. She sucks on his tongue, making him moan out.

She’s wet down there either, and she grinds down harder, searches for friction, is met by his hard cock. 

Dean helps her grind on him, guides her on him with his hands on her ass. 

“Fuck,” He breathes out, kisses her cheek, her jaw, nibbles at her throat, “Wanna fuck you so bad,”

“I want that too,” She says almost breathlessly and Dean kisses down her throat, stopping short to look up at her. 

“You sure?” He raises one eyebrow at her and she nods, smiles a reassuring smile.

“Fuck,” He curses again, and then his hands come down on her ass, spanks down and makes her yelp up with a laughter. 

Dean stands up with her still in his arms, “Hold on,” He says and she does, hooks her legs behind his waist and he leans down, picks up the baby monitor and clears his desk with one clean swipe before he lays her down on it and places the baby monitor back so they would know when Ella starts to cry. 

She frowns at him, because now everything’s on the floor.

“Always wanted to do that once in my life,” Dean laughs before he kisses her again, works his way down her throat, sucks at her pulse point, making her arch her back. He doesn’t lose time in unbuttoning her shirt, pulls at the seam and her breasts are free because she left so many buttons undone in the first place. 

Eagerly, he sucks at her nipple, probably tasting milk because she leaks it without meaning to. He kneads the one he’s not kissing, and she moans out at the sensation. She’s so fucking sensitive. 

While he still kisses her chest, his hands trail down, hooking his fingers around her panties and pulling them down. He abandons her chest shortly to take them off and she whines at the loss of contact. Dean kneels down right after, kissing and biting his way up her thighs. One thigh first and then the other, teasing her. 

“Dean,” She calls out, wanting him to stop teasing her. His teeth scraping along the inner of her thighs and she writhes.

“I got you,” Dean breathes hot air against her soaked pussy, and he takes his finger, threads it through her slick before he rubs at her clit.

It’s awfully silent and she comes up to her elbow, sees him staring at her pussy, as if it holds all the answers to his questions. It makes her blush to see him staring at her most private part like that, “Dean,”

“Christ, you’re so wet,” He whispers and then he realizes that she’s still waiting.

His eyes meet hers and he holds her gaze, sticks out his tongue and licks a broad stripe up from her pussy to her clit with his massive tongue. Dean pauses and swallows, “Jesus, can’t get enough of your taste.”

Dean begins to lick and suck at her clit and opening, breathes through his nose as he does it, the hot air hits her right and she arches her back, pushing her cunt against his face. 

Her hands fists in his hair, and Dean licks faster, sucks harder, her knuckles are turning white, blunt nails digging into his scalp. 

And he looks up at her, crinkles deep because he is smiling and humming. 

“Dean, I’m—”

She didn’t even finish her sentence, spasms around him, thighs pressing together, trapping his head and he lets her. Lets her grind against his face until she comes down from her high and releases her grip around his head.

Dean chuckles when he comes up again, kisses each of her thighs, sucks at each of her nipples in passing, leaving a wet trail from there to her mouth. He claims her lips, pushing his tongue into her, lets her suck her own taste from it.

She breaks the kiss, leaves her forehead on his, her hand brushes at his lips, his scruff. He’s soaked.

“I almost died down there,” Dean’s still a little out of breath, “Good thing I made a will, huh?”

She rolls her eyes at him and he grins, thrust his clothed cock against her wet cunt, making her laugh out loud. 

“Fuck,” His voice is deep, “Can I fuck you now? I can barely hold myself together.”

She smiles at him, nods her approval, “Please,”

Dean’s grin widens, pecks her lips once more and pushes himself up, and she watches him hurriedly losing his jeans, just enough so he can pull them up again should Ella require his attention. 

He jerks himself three times before taking a step closer to lean over her, the head of his cock rubs against her slick cunt. He coats it with her wetness, rubs it up and down and she squirms.

“I’m excited,” He smiles with that golden boy smile, showing his teeth before he pushes himself forward and sinks in, both of them groan out in unison. 

It has been so long for her to be filled so fully, “Shit,” She curses out and Dean stills when he bottoms out. 

“You okay?” Dean asks, kisses at the crease between her eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” She nods, “I— fuck, yeah, I’m okay. So full, but good, oh my god, I’ve missed this,”

“I know,” He starts to thrust, his hand taking one of her legs, lifts it and braces it on his shoulder. The angle changes and she’s moans, “You feel so fucking good, still so goddamn tight— fuck!”

“Harder, Dean! Please,” Because it is what it is. She’s missed it, missed how his wet balls slaps against her ass when he fucks her hard and she wants to feel just that.

He picks up his pace, fucking her harder likes she demands of him.

“God you’re so deep,” She closes her eyes and bites down on her bottom lip.

“Should I not go de— Jesus!” 

She wraps the one leg that’s not on his shoulder around him, pulls him closer, making him go even deeper and it hurts. It hurts so good. She loves the pain. Her hands go down her body, tweaks one of her nipples and the other hand goes further down to rub at her clit. 

“Dean, choke me,” Her voice is strained, already so fucking close again.

“You sure?” 

“Uh-huh,”

“Uh-huh?” His hand travels up her body, slaps down on her tits on his way up and then she feels it, feels his big hand clawing around her throat, “You’re close, ain’t you, baby? Fuck— I—, you’re squeezing me.” Dean puts pressure on her throat, squeezes down on it, “Come, baby. Come on my cock like you used to,”

Y/N feels her toe curl up, pins and needles traveling up her legs, settles at her center. Her eyes roll back into her head and she convulses, shaking all over when she comes. 

Dean pushes himself over the edge with her, too, releases his grip on her throat and leans down, buries his face into the crook of her neck, sucks at her throat when he releases himself into her with a grunt.

He leaves little kisses on her throat, her jaw, her chin, kisses her between chuckles, “You look so goddamn beautiful when you come,” He props himself up a little then, hovers above her, steals a kiss, and one more. “Shit, I haven’t asked if you take your pills again,”

“I don’t,” 

“Baby, no!” 

She can hear the panic in his voice and has to hide her smirk, “Why? You don’t want another baby?”

“I do, I want a whole bunch, and you know that,” Dean says, and adds, “but I also want your body to have time to breathe.” Dean frowns and she cranes her neck, kisses him in between his eyebrows where there’s a deep crease.

“Relax, Dean. We’re good. I was joking,” She can’t hold back her laugh anymore.

“You little minx,” Dean growls, kisses her nose and pretends to bite it off, “I almost had a heart attack, Jesus! You’re a fucking pain in my ass, you know that, right?”

She’s still laughing and he joins her, but their laughter stops abruptly when they hear the baby monitor coming to life. Ella grunts through the speaker. 

“Shhh,” Dean hushes and touches his nose to hers, “Maybe if we pretend we didn’t hear she’ll stop,”

She giggles at that and he nuzzles his nose along her cheeks. 

Ella’s not stopping though, grunts some more and then she cries softly. They can hear Truffles barking from upstairs.

“Ugh,” Dean sighs, pecks her forehead and pushes himself away from her, “I don’t think we need a baby monitor, Truffles does all the work,”

He slips his dick out of her, is half hard again, she can see, she doesn’t think he’s been soft at all, at least it didn’t feel like it inside of her. 

Dean helps her up, “I’ll go see what she needs and you take your time,” He pulls his jeans back up, doesn’t bother to zip up or anything. He picks up her panties from the floor, holds it out for her to take before he places his hand on the back of her neck, draws her in, “We’re really getting married?”

She smirks a little, because that’s so Dean. He asks because he wants for her to be sure. She nods, smiling, “We are.”

“Okay, then I’m going to see what our girl needs now, future Mrs. Winchester,” Dean smiles, bright and white and leaves a last lingering kiss before he walks out. 

There’s a flutter in her chest when she watches him go, the name feels alien to her when she’s called that, yet it does feel right, too.

CH07

[bryan360]

My YCCTEAM's Wireless Switch Pro Controller - Part 8 (Playtime Battery Life Results)

Hi guys and my friends. I'm back to bring you my next YCCTEAM Controller topic that I took from past weeks of 🍀March 2021, but man that is like took forever to show this as my playtime results after using my controller. Just to clarify or something, I've been doing my next topic part with my controller to see how much playtime I'll having til the controller's batteries run out. Only thing is that my YCCTEAM Controller's battery had been still running well through some days I tracked on; from back in March 5th until 14th til the controller's battery finally almost running out as I stopped. I would've original plan to stop my results when if my YCCTEAM Controller's battery run out completely, but maybe not? ^^* I mean if it would to, then I would be take plenty of hours during the weekends more often. However since I already got the results from top, I would take a guess to learn how much playtime til the batteries runs out eventually.

By the way, I'd use my iPad Mini 2's timer and screenshots of my results I've putting down I gotten. This one different cause I took them back in March 5 til 14th that you already know. It won't be simply unlike my charging results for my YCCTEAM Controller I did last time.

1st Image from top left

From March 5th that I started this progress with my YCCTEAM Controller to track time; spending hours of playing Super Smash Bros Ultimate like I always do. I even picked the latest new fighter that you may know, but best that I can save my thoughts soon for this month or another month if I had trouble with my schedule a little. Nevertheless, at least knowing it took me of what it looks like 2 hours and 52 minutes on first try.

2nd Image from top right

It's been 7 days after I was doing some stuff with homework and drawing to get by, but on day 12th I'm back to continuing of my test at least 1 hour and 26 minutes through Super Smash Bros Ultimate a second time. ^^* Again that I been using the latest new fighter by doing Classic Mode, but it so hard that I was so close to getting 9.9 Intensity score. Yet the battery for my controller still fully charged of what I saw on screen.

3rd Image from middle left

At day 13th, I putting up a notch by doing a third try using my controller to play Luigi's Mansion 3; which if you know that I owned it from last year. Link Here It was actually a good game that I remember my first play to try back in December 29th, 2020. However, I wanted to reset things up to get any collectables of ghost and gems to hoping of getting that 100% completion. For doing so, I using my iPad Mini 2's timer again to track how much time I'll having to get Luigi's Mansion 3's 100% completion; while trying to drain the battery of my controller. So far, it took me 4 hours and 4 minutes before taking it break. At least knowing the batteries from my YCCTEAM Controller had finally powered down on half. 🙂👍🏼

4th Image from middle right

The same day that I went through lunch later, but back to continuing my progress still; even I would reset the timer instead I should've save it while playing Luigi's Mansion 3 again. It took me about 4 hours and 35 minutes I gotten before decided to take a ease. Yet the batteries from my YCCTEAM Controller still had half power before hoping it can reach to power down.

5th/Final Image from bottom last

Finally that I REALLY going through there for day 14th as I took 9 hours and 55 minutes of playtime with my YCCTEAM Controller. Yeah, it actually go through there non-stop at least on Sunday; just to make sure the batteries can finally drain out some more. Don't worry that I'm fine about having a blast with Super Smash Bros Ultimate and Luigi's Mansion 3 games at the same time; in making turns of course. At least knowing my controller's batteries is finally almost low power just before I can take a break at 7:20 P.M.

Whew! It was really something that I been using my YCCTEAM Controller through about 4 days (since from past 7 days that I was out after March 5th for my first progress til 14th to finished) with the batteries is working fine through more hours than I thought would be. Wondering what kind of batteries it was to power up my controller? Well, I look on its instruction book for the controller's battery was built in "1000mAh polymer lithium" that it can run about 8-10 hours.

However, I don't think that wasn't it after I been through my progress with my YCCTEAM Controller that took me days til the battery is running low. Also, the controller on the back saids that the battery capacity was "3.7V 1200mAH" instead of "1000mAh" from what the instructions book said.

It really get me confused the fact the controller's battery had a different built-in that it tooks me days after using it for my Nintendo Switch console with Super Smash Bros Ultimate and Luigi's Mansion 3. After checking some results at the end though, I'm guessing the different built-in battery set for my YCCTEAM Controller will take about 20 or more hours of playtime. I'm not sure it was the official answer I'll take, but still.

My Thoughts:

The batteries for my YCCTEAM Controller I've been using for days sure works me hard, even taking through more hours of playtime can be a good thing for the weekends to plan with your ownNintendo Switch system. That being said, I couldn’t put a finger on about what kind of build-in battery for my YCCTEAM Controller had gotten after playing it for 20 or more hours. I even look through online to double check the same controller’s details in Amazon.com, but still said it can take 10 hours of playtime. Link Here

I’m taking a guess after reading the controller on the back saids the battery capacity was “3.7V 1200mAH” had to do with taking 20 or more hours after using my controller. Hard to say, but it was likely in theory. Who knows if I’ll be taking another battery result test for next time soon, but for now it was a good first one I gotten from past weeks of 🍀March 2021.

Before I can finish off my next topic part for my YCCTEAM Controller and onto the next one, I like to apologize to my friends that I’ll be delaying my next DeviantArt posts til next month for Sam’s new bio and reactions with my main OCs to Pyra/Mythra after joining Smash Bros. Let’s just say that I’m working some drafts to make and other one of course, my homework writing after the package send me by mail. Yeesh.... 😑 Again, I’m sorry to my friends that I’ll be delaying my next DeviantArt posting plans at least next month soon. Though considering we have 2 weeks left until March 31st; which is the exact date til Nintendo will stop selling Super Mario 3D All-Stars, I would get into showing me playing my last year’s Christmas game now. I’ll even added through my next topic part with my YCCTEAM Controller on hand, but I promised I’ll bring up the gyro control testing first. Sorry. ^^*

Pervious Posts for my YCCTEAM’s Pro Controller Topic:

Wireless Switch Pro Controller for Nintendo Switch/Switch Lite (Part 1) - Link Here #1

My YCCTEAM’s Wireless Switch Pro Controller for Nintendo Switch/Switch Lite Unboxing (Part 2) - Link Here #2

My YCCTEAM’s Wireless Switch Pro Controller for Nintendo Switch/Switch Lite Comparison with my Xbox One (Part 3) - Link Here #3

My YCCTEAM’s Wireless Switch Pro Controller for Nintendo Switch/Switch Lite Comparison with my Nintendo Switch’s Joy-Cons (Part 4) - Link Here #4

Testing Buttons (Part 5) - Link Here #5

Rumble Feature Testing (Part 6) - Link Here #6

Battery Charging Test (Part 7) - Link Here #7

[talldecafcappuccino]

Title: Between Close Friends

Rating: General Audience

Chapters: 1/1

Relationship: Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton

Summary: Ted is bad at social media, but is that a bad thing?

Ted, what the fuck are you doing????

Ted peers at his phone, rubbing sleep from his eyes and reads the message again.

He scrolls down and sees he has twelve more texts and three missed calls all from Keeley Jones. He turns off his nighttime notifications with a few exceptions for emergency contacts, so it’s not surprising he slept through the messages.

He scratches at the stubble along his cheek and checks his clock. It’s seven o’clock here in Kansas, so it must be . . . early afternoon in London. He thinks through the last day, but he can’t remember anything interesting enough to have Keeley on the case.

Henry came over to his extended-stay hotel, they went to an American football game, got a late dinner in downtown Wichita, and watched a movie before bed.

They did make it on the Jumbotron for the Lasso-off, the team’s half-time dance contest, but his moves weren’t especially embarrassing. At least not in his opinion. Unless one of the moves was actually an insult to the English in which case, oh jeeze, he needs to get on this quick.

The call barely connects before Keeley’s voice echoes in his ear.

“Oy! Ted!”

“Keeley, I am so sorry for whatever I did to offend the great people of the United Kingdom. I am ready to make a statement and an apology tour as soon as you tell me which dance move I need to retire immediately.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I need you to log out of the AFC Richmond Instagram account. Like, now.”

That stops Ted in his tracks.

Does he even have access to that? He remembers a post-it note of accounts and passwords from Beard on their first day with Richmond.

There was an account run by the previous manager, but Keeley had taken it over long ago, converting it to the official team account. She had also made Ted a personal Instagram for his own use and brand development, but he never posted publicly.

He puts her on speaker phone and opens the Instagram app. She’s right. He’s logged into the team account with all 25 million followers. Well, shoot.

There are about a dozen stories posted from last night. All of Ted and Henry’s day together. There’s puns (“having a cow” at dinner with an image of Henry holding up a beef rib and screaming his head off), Ted and Henry singing at a dueling piano bar, the two brushing their teeth together in the bathroom mirror.

“No offense, but I think this may delay the Tom Ford deal you asked me about.”

“Yeah. I get that.”

“It’s just, you know, dads aren’t quite their brand. Or our brand. I mean we’re not anti-dorky dad, but you know with the whole comeback narrative during the season hiatus . . .”

“No I get it. You’ve put a lot of work into rebranding this team and I just undermined that.”

She sighs, but it’s fond.

“Sorry, Ted. It’s not like what you posted was bad, it’s rather sweet actually. It’s just a little different from the posts I had scheduled.”

Ted nodded. It wasn’t the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him, but he felt bad for making Keeley’s job harder than it needed to be.

“No, I’m sorry Keeley. I swear, it won’t happen again.”

****

“Can you believe what Ted did last night? I’ve never seen someone so bad at social media.”

Rebecca has no idea what Keeley is talking about when she walks into her office. She flops onto the couch, feet splayed on the coffee table, clearly exhausted by whatever Ted has done from 4,438 miles away.

“So many puns. Which, don't get me wrong, I love word play more than most people. But I don’t think it’s right for the team right now.”

Rebecca shuts her laptop.

“You’re right about puns not being part of the team plan, but what’s this about Ted? What did he do, exactly?”

Ted hasn’t posted anything in at least 24 hours. Not that Rebecca is keeping track.

“Oh he managed to switch to the team account on Instagram and posted about his entire evening out with Henry. It was quite sweet, actually. The ones that made sense,” but then she pulled a face.”He’s like, really, really bad at social media.”

Oof. Well that isn’t great, but Rebecca doesn’t think there’s anything particularly terrible about Ted’s social media use normally.

“But everything seems under control? No big PR actions needed.”

“It’s fine. I had him log out and wrote a post about Coach Lasso’s surprise social media takeover from America.”

Rebecca nods. Okay, so it was all sorted. Keeley has things totally under control.

But she reaches for her phone anyway. She opens Instagram, taps through the AFC Richmond stories, and snorts at the image of Henry with the rib as big as his head.

“Are people at least being kind?” Rebecca hopes Ted logged out without seeing any messages about Henry. Not that she could see any reason for it, but people were shitheads on the internet.

“Well, wanker is still the most common response. But many of them are wanker with a little heart at the end, so I think it’s fine. We actually got a lot of responses, proper engagement and all that,” she looks up at the ceiling, considering it for a moment before rolling her head to look back at Rebecca.

“If we weren’t trying to present the team as a badass phoenix rising from the ashes, I’d say a Ted takeover isn’t a bad idea. He just needs some supervision. Maybe a phone with a better camera.”

Rebecca is only half listening as she taps to the next story.

“Aw, they went to dueling piano night. That must have been fun for Henry.”

She’s smiling at her phone when Keeley asks, “Dueling piano night?”

“Yeah, you know at Jim Bob’s Bar.”

Keeley is looking at her blankly.

“Fine. I know it’s not really Jim Bob’s bar. It’s probably not even a bar if Henry’s there. But I can’t remember the real name off the top of my head.”

She’d looked it up once, after Ted first posted about the dueling pianos. For some reason she started calling it Jim Bob’s. Ted didn’t seem bothered and had even started calling it that himself.

When she looks up again, Keeley is staring at her, eyes narrowed.

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you know so much about some bar in Kansas?”

That gives Rebecca pause. She isn’t sure what Keeley means by the line of questioning.

“It’s not some totally random bar. Ted posts about it whenever he goes for dueling pianos.”

If he gets to the bar early or she has a particularly late evening, Rebecca catches the story before going to bed. When she does, she always asks him to put in $5 for Wannabee by the Spice Girls. She owes him a small fortune by now, but it’s worth it to see the bar explode with cheers and jeers.

Some nights she misses the story, but he puts money in anyways and she wakes up to a shaky video of, Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.

Rebecca thinks this is a good enough explanation, but Keeley is still staring at her.

“I’ve literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Keeley, you know social media is not my thing. All I know is that sometimes Ted posts about this bar on his tiny friends list thing,” she waves her hand around, trying her best to describe it. “The one with the green ring around it.”

Keeley leaps to her feet, eyes wide.

“Am I not on Ted’s Close Friends list??”

Before Rebecca can say a word, Keeley is halfway out the door, texting furiously.

“Roy, better not be on there, if I’m not on there. Ted knows how I feel about being left out!” she shouts over her shoulder. “Sorry Rebecca, I need to do some investigating, asap.”

Oof. She may have just created a problem. It’s probably best to give Ted a heads up before Keeley gets through interrogating Roy.

She drafts a text once, twice, then deletes it and presses call instead.

“Hey Boss, let me guess. Keeley got a hold of you?”

It’s been a while since they’ve chatted, what with the time difference. It’s bizarre how familiar his American accent has become.

“She just left my office, yes.”

There’s a loud crack in the background and a metal clang.

“Where are you?”

“Oh, just the batting cages with Henry,” he says, cheering loudly. “Hey, do you guys have a sport called baseball that has nothing to do with American baseball? You know, like football and football?”

She chuckles, “I don’t believe we do. However there is always cricket.”

He hums, considering it.

“Now Ted, I think there’s something you should know.”

“Lay it on me Boss. I know I caused a headache this morning, what’s the damage? What do you need me to do? I am at your disposal or I’ll lay really, really low as long as you need me to.”

“It’s not that Ted. It’s Keeley.”

“Keeley?”

“Yes, she’s on a bit of a mission at the moment. It seems you left her off your Close Friends list? I think that’s right. On Instagram?”

“Huh. How did that come up?”

“I was telling her about Jim Bob’s. Apparently she had never heard of it and realized you had a whole social media life she was unaware of.”

“Right . . .”

“So do what you will with that.”

“You haven’t talked to anyone else about this yet, have you?”

Rebecca is confused by this new direction.

“No. Why? Ted, is something wrong?”

It takes a long moment for Ted to respond.

“What can I say, I’m just really bad at this social media stuff.”

It's a non-response and an overly folksy one at that. But Rebecca can’t be fooled by the aw shucks routine—not anymore. She tries again.

“Ted. Who is on your close friends list?”

“Uh. Not a lot of people.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“What can I say?” He huffs, a little frustrated. She would feel bad for prying, but she can't help herself. “The list of people I want to share silly life things with is small.”

“How small?” she wonders.

“Very small.”

The line goes silent and Rebecca swears she lost him. But then she hears him take a deep breath.

“It’s you. You’re the list.”

Rebecca feels flush. That’s not where she was expecting this conversation to go.

“I know that might be a lot. You don’t have to say anything. I just, that’s the honest truth and I’d like to get ahead of it before Keeley harangues the entire team.”

It’s a lot to take in, but it makes sense. Sometimes when she’s watching his posts, she wonders about his audience. Who else cares about his biscuit recipe improvements or Broadway Sundays (a recent development that’s turned into a shared movie night.)

“Rebecca?”

She realizes she’s been quiet for a while. The moment feels tenuous and she worries about saying the wrong thing, sending him running faster than Keeley during a social media snafu.

Finally she settles on, “You know, you’re welcome to text me silly life things. It wouldn’t be a bother.”

She brushes invisible crumbs from her desk, listening carefully to his breathing on the other end of the line.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Maybe I can send some, too?”

Rebecca can hear his smile from across the Atlantic.

“Well, alright then.”

****

That night, Ted’s phone pings and he rolls over to see a text message from Rebecca. It’s a picture of the sun rising over her garden wall.

Something silly to start the day.

But it doesn’t feel silly. Not at all.

[melwritesbadly]

With Wings in All Black

After a tragic turn of events,  Kazama Kaori , AKA Hex, has her investigation swept out from under her by the #2 Pro Hero. Reluctantly she joins Hawks in the pursuit of justice. On top of trying to solve the biggest case of her career, Kaori is still a young woman struggling to find her place in the world. Life is turned upside down as her professional and personal lives start to blend.

Rating: T (subject to change)

Content Warnings: slight language, implied violence/death

________________________________________________________

Assistance Requested: Information and surveillance details urgently needed regarding reported missing persons. Suspected Vigilante involvement, or other syndicates. Please respond for additional details.

Status of current investigation: Ongoing

__________ 

A Murder of One                        

Hex adjusted the dial on the receiver on her headgear tuning in to the frequency of the microphone planted in the bar below her. She hoped the ungodly amount of paperwork she traded for the device was worth it.  The other detectives at the station simply shrugged at her evidence- or rather, her lack-thereof.

Still it didn’t change the facts.

Fact 1- Low level criminals are disappearing.

Fact 2- People are disappearing

Fact 3- No one cared- but her.

Fact 4- Takei Kenji, one of the missing, had recently been seen in the area and was seemingly ‘not himself’ as described by the anonymous tip that was forwarded to her.

Takei Kenji, age 27. Minor invulnerability quirk. Last known occupation: ‘Nightwatchman’ for a warehouse commonly used for clandestine meetings for the local riff-raff. Reported missing by his mother 3 weeks ago.

After speaking with Mrs. Takei, she pieced together Kenji’s new schedule. After tailing him a few days he truly seemed like a new man, reformed. 

His dress was proper and pristine, clean shaven and hair combed and presentable. It was a stark contrast to the photo used on the missing person flier taped to her pinboard (along with all the other missing persons). With no discernible pattern, at least not to her, about the next victim(?) or the whereabouts of any of the others, Kenji was her best, and only lead.

Tonight, she could expect him to show at one of his usual haunts.  The bar below her. Not to her personal taste, the clientele of the more stabby nature. 

Earlier that week she managed to convince the bartender to spill a few snippets of the conversations between Kenji and the other patrons.

“The Bard this, The Bard that.” griped the bartender as he dumped the trash into the alley dumpster. “It’s pissing off my regulars and they’re pissy enough as it is.” 

He should have been here an hour ago though. Hex sucked on her lower lip, displeased as she scanned the road leading to and from the bar entrance. She’d give it another half hour then try and regroup on his trail in the morning.

“Cheers to another late night.” she muttered to herself listening in to the chatter and ambiance of the dive bar. 

________

Her 30 minutes go by and she huffs before finally switching the receiver off.  She’d go by tomorrow to get the mic back.  Just as she was about to stand from her perch Hex heard the unmistakable beat of wings above her, large ones, judging by the sound. 

It reminded her of her father. Probably one of the last people she wanted to see right now. Especially since her only lead ditched her for the night.

This night sucks.

 Hex thinks to herself, finally looking up intending to see the dark wings of King Crow finally come to drag her home but instead, she sees red.

This has to be the reason Kenji never showed. The thought bounces around her head angrily as none other than the number 2 Hero in Japan descended from the nightly heavens and landed on her rooftop.

This night really sucks.

“Yo!” Hawks held up a hand in greeting neatly folding his very noticeable wings against his back, shoving the other hand into his pocket.

“Will you get down!” Hex harshly whispers, gesturing him to stoop down and out of sight.

“Jeesh, hi, hello how are you? I’m fine, thanks for asking.” he jokes casually but still squats down feet planted on the ground resting his arms on his knees. Hex shakes her head and resumes her post looking up and down the street despite her previous resignation.

“You’re Hex right?” he starts “I’m-” She cuts him off not taking her eyes off the street.

“Obviously I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. Especially every lowlife in the area who’ve probably fled after seeing your chicken legs flailing in the wind.”

“Ooo, ah, that’s my physical appearance. That hurts you know.” Feigning  being wounded, Hawks placed a hand over his heart but still kept the jovial tone. A smart smirk inching up his cheek continuing. 

“But you’re not after ‘every lowlife’, though right? Just the one. Takei Kenji?'' 

She turned to him and tilted her head, large round eyes finally meeting his sharper, more angled ones. 

“How did you...?” she trailed off, honestly surprised. It wasn’t common knowledge on how her ‘investigation’ was going. Uncommon because, well quite frankly… no one cared. Especially other Heroes. 

“Sorry Chickadee but I got some bad news.” Hawks stood back up and crossed his arms leaning against a nearby cooling unit.

Hex rolled her eyes

“Don’t call me that. What happened?” She looked up at him.

“Well, one of my guys found your guy in… not great shape.” 

Hex cursed running a hand through the back of her head, then sighed.

“How bad?” prepping for his answer.

“Morgue bad”

“Dammit!” cursing again, pinching her brow reeling from the implications.

“Your buddies at the station said you'd might want to know as a professional courtesy” brow pinched once more, Hex felt the annoying start of a headache between them.

“Courtesy? For what...” a thought flashing through her mind and she stood eyes going wide “Don’t you dare close my case!” jabbing a finger in his direction.

 He turned his head to face her more, still calm, still leaning, still observing.

“Close it? Oh no, wouldn’t think of it Chickadee. I’m taking over the investigation.”

Hex gaped. Momentarily at a loss for words. The frustrations starting to come to a point at the back of her neck, feeling an uncomfortable bristle forming.

“What no, you can’t! Do you know how much work” gesturing wildly with her hands “How much time! The favors I had to do, the resources I scrounged for-”

“Which are no longer a problem.” He blocked one ear with a finger and shot her what would have been an award winning smile “No need to shout Hex. Obviously I want to keep you,”  He paused, throwing a wink her way  “Keep you on the investigation that is.”

Hex scoffed,her head bobbing back as she shot him an incredulous look.

“I don’t do agencies, and I’m no one's sidekick.” she threw another annoyed jab of her finger in his direction.

“Ooo touchy. Freelance then. Sound good Chickadee?” Hawks held up his hand to maybe physically shield him from her ire.

“Stop calling me that and maybe I’ll let you help”

He smiled-no smirked again pushing off of the cooling unit he was leaning on stepping towards her shrugging his shoulders.

“That doesn't sound like a mutually beneficial arrangement to me.” Hex rolled her eyes and crossed her arms haughtily with a huff.

“And how does calling me stereotyped nickname benefit you, birdbrain.” 

Hawks chuckled. He didn’t expect it to be so easy to ruffle her feathers.

This was going to be fun.

“Isn’t that how these buddy cop movies play out? One hard-ass with a secret heart of gold and their handsome, comic relief partner put aside their differences to crack the case and learn the meaning of cooperation and friendship. Roll credits”

Hex tilted her head and shot him an unamused expression, opening her mouth to speak.

“I am not a hardass-” she stopped herself holding her palm up to stop the little banter she was getting pulled into. “Can you circle back, Takei Kenji?”

“Can we circle back to this team up? After all this is my case now?” 

Hex scrunched up her nose, not pouting, she told herself, and re-crossed her arms.

“Sounds like something a hardass would say.” she snarked and he grinned again, throwing his arms up bringing them down behind his head.

“You caught me. Hawks, the hardass with a heart of gold. Guess that makes you my handsome, no wait, beautiful partner then. So how's about it Chickadee?”

“Uhg” Hex clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes again. Squaring her shoulders she placed her hands on her hips

“I want a contract. Full access and authority over any and all future developments and details about my case.” Hawks nodded but shot her a finger gun.

“Our case.”

“Whatever!” she sighed looking up at the night sky hands still on her hips. 

“The agency manager can draft up whatever you’d like tomorrow. Let’s go see what Kenji had in his pockets shall we?”

Hex nodded reaching up to her headgear. She flicked the visor portion that was pushing her hair back over her eyes. The experimental mirrored tint softening the city night lights. She switched the setting on her earpiece making sure the seal around the was snug. Hawks floated a foot above the ground looking a little bored as he waited.

 Show off

Hex activated her own quirk, the bundle of jet black feathers at the base of her hair sending a shiver down her spine causing other inky feathers to erupt from her skin. The ebony plumes forming patterned rows along her arms covering them completely. 

Letting them creep upwards to the sides of her neck but stopped them before then could go any further on her body. Just enough for her to achieve flight. She did a small jump maintaining the upward moment with a strong flap of her feather covered arms and started for the station.

Harpy Hero: Hex

Quirk: Harpy- Half human, half bird! She’s able to do most things a bird can do and then some! Most notably, she can grow enough feathers to achieve flight.

______

There is no traffic in the sky and the previously chatty #2 Hero was silent during their flight. Hex was thankful, it gave her some time, however brief, to think.

This new development was...tragic. Someone would have to tell Mrs.Takei in the morning.

It should be me...

It’s just, Kenji was small time.  So why would he turn up dead?

And more importantly...

Hex cast a look in her periphery at the Fierce Wing Hero.

How did this fall into the lap of the number 2 Hero?

______

Hawks landed first. Not bothering to tame his windswept hair but did look up to observe Hex’s descent. She wasn’t quite as fast as him, well, then again, no one was. But she was graceful and skilled as she navigated the air currents. 

Fanning her wings wide Hex slowed her movements getting ready to land. A few more well practiced flutters and she also touched back down. Before she can remove her headgear she dispels her feathers. Casting them off with a quick flick of her arms. She hardened them into slivers then ground them to sand with another flick to minimize the mess and general rudeness of not picking up after your quirk.

She adjusted her headgear and hair and blatantly ignored the cheeky claps and nods of approval from the man besides her. She strode past him and up into the station. The night reception paid her no mind but did double take when they saw Hawks’s crimson wings engulfing their foyer.

Just outside the morgue waited a man with an impressive and well manicured mustache. He wore a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders and the first few buttons open.

“This her boss?” he asked in an accent indicating that he was from Australia. 

“Hex,” she offered “And you are?”

“Duke Amazing. Pleasure.” he greeted offering his hand. She was not expecting such a strong handshake.

“Given the circumstances…” she trailed off.  “You found Takei?”

“Well, what’s left that is…” Duke gestured to the door he was waiting in front of  “They’ve finished up for now. Just waiting on the bossman for the paperwork and whatnot.” He made another gesture in the direction of a door a little ways down the corridor.

“They’ve got his belongings in there”

“Perfect, cross the t’s and dot the i’s for me Duke?” before his sidekick could answer Hawks was already starting down the corridor. Hex followed close behind. 

Duke shook his head crossing his arms.

“June’s gunna pitch a fit again Hawks”

“Op, can’t hear you, the doors closing!” gently shoving Hex in the room and hastily closed the door behind them.

“Uhg paperwork” He bemoaned and leaned against the door

“Paperwork” Hex commiserated but was already looking over the items laid out on the small table.

There wasn’t much but everything was bagged, labeled and detailed on a piece of paper next to the items.

There was a small wallet, no money, a personal ID card. An older model cell phone, unusable. Most likely damaged in whatever altercation Kenji found himself in.

“Probably a burner” Hawks shrugged “Still, I'll get someone to pull the numbers.”  He made no move to examine the items himself but instead watched Hex very carefully as she examined each one. 

She cupped her chin as she looked at the final piece of evidence, brow furrowed.

“I’ve seen this before...” she commented, turning over the small business card over front to back several times examining it. 

While it was the same shape and card stock as a business card it held no information. No address, phone number, or even a business name. All that was printed was an indigo triangle.

“What is it?” He was curious because he had no idea what the shape meant either.

“I…” she started, brows still furrowed. “I have no idea, but I know I've seen this...” 

She placed the bagged card back on the table and leaned over it rubbing her hand to the back of her neck smoothing down her feathers there. The memory of where she’d seen this particular shape eluding her.

“Maybe at his apartment?” she muttered to herself, then sighed

“I’ll have to go back over my notes.” Hex leaned up from the table and unzipped her jacket pulling out her phone and snapped a quick picture on the item.

“How about we meet back up tomorrow then. Let me give you my number.” Hawks held out his palm asking for her phone. She was just about to hand it over but thought better and pulled it back causing him to catch air.

“No social calls, no memes at 3 in the morning, no unsolicited pictures.” her tone stern

“What if they’re tasteful?” he made a grabby motion with his hands and gave his brows a waggle.

“They’re never tasteful.” she quipped back but finally relented and handed over her phone.

Hawks flipped it over in his hands and quickly typed in his information jokingly setting the name for his number “Unsolicited dick pics” with an appropriate emoji next to it. He sent himself a quick text with her phone then clicked hers off and handed it back to her.

He was extremely pleased when she didn’t double check his contact info and simply zipped the phone back into her pocket. His little joke would be a fun surprise for the morning then.

“Send me where you want to meet tomorrow” She pressed her fingers to the back of her neck again “I’m heading out. Looong night” 

Hawks moved away from the door and let her pass, parting for the night.

“Well that led to a whole lotta nothing” He mused to himself finally taking his turn to look over the offending card stock.

“It’s never an easy mess to clean up is it?” He tossed the card back on the table.

_________________________________

[cami-chats]

Too Old

Fandom: Check Please!

Pairing: Kent “Parse” Parson/Connor “Whiskey” Whisk

Warnings: Age difference (but not underage)

On AO3

From Parse: You ever feel like you're robbing the cradle a little bit? 

From Swoops: No, but that's bc my girlfriend's only like 2 years younger than me.

From Swoops: Perv. 

From Parse: You're not helping. 

From Parse: Besides, he's not THAT young. He started college when he was 20, not 18. He can legally drink. 

From Swoops: Sounds like something a pedo would say.

From Parse: Fuck you.

From Parse: But seriously, do you think I'm too old for him? 

From Swoops: Dude, I know nothing about him other than that he's in college and plays hockey (and now that he started college when he was 20). You won't tell me what he looks like, what he's studying, or which college he goes to. The 2 details I know kinda make it seem like yeah, you're too old for him. 

Kent glared at his phone and locked it. Goddammit. That's what he'd been afraid of. It's not like he felt like an old man, but Whiskey felt so young sometimes. Mostly when he mentioned homework, because the last time Kent had done homework, he'd been seventeen-- which was definitely too young. 

He called Whiskey to ask him about it, but it was only when it rang off to voicemail that he remembered there was a time difference and he hadn't even thought about Whiskey's schedule. He was in the middle of practice right now. He thought about sending a text to let him know what it was about, but if this was a conversation he wanted to have over text, he would've texted him to begin with. Whatever. It had been an impulse, anyways. And it was stupid, wasn't it? If Whiskey thought he was too old, they wouldn't have gotten together. If Whiskey had thought it was fine at first but changed his mind later, then he would've said something. Whiskey didn't exactly keep that sort of shit locked down-- he'd told Kent the instant that he put on cologne that he hated the smell. 

Kent was probably just being paranoid. 

He'd been perfectly fine with their relationship and the age difference thing until some dipshit wrote an article on Zimms and Bittle's relationship, claiming that Bittle was too young and being taken advantage of. Kent and Zimms were the same age, and Whiskey and Bittle were the same age, so if Zimms was too old for his boyfriend, then Kent was too old for his. Not that Kent really thought it was the same. Bittle was graduating soon-- he was pretty sure-- and Whiskey still had a couple semesters left. Zimms and Bittle had played together. Gone to college together for two years before anything happened. 

Comparatively, it did feel like Kent was taking advantage of a young fan. It was weird to think of Whiskey like that, but technically that's what he was: a fan. Whiskey had come up to compliment him on his game when they were in the same bar, and Kent had been tipsy enough to think it was a good idea to flirt. It had all worked out, of course, but that had been pretty damn stupid of him. 

Kent kept running it over in his mind: it wasn't a big deal-- this was different than what Zimms was up to-- maybe Kent should take a step back-- but did Whiskey give a shit?-- maybe he shouldn't worry about it. He just went in circles, only jarred out of it when his phone started to ring. "Hey babe," Kent said automatically after sliding it to answer. 

"Hey, what's up?" 

"You're the one that called me," Kent said, frowning. 

"Some people call this returning a phone call," Whiskey said dryly. "You didn't leave a message, so I figured it was serious." 

"Oh." Shit. "Um, no, nothing serious. I'd forgotten you were at practice, so I called, but it's nothing big. Spur of the moment thing, you know?" 

"It's chill. What's up?" 

"Uhh." Kent made a face at nothing in particular. "Nothing." 

"Doesn't sound like nothing." 

"Yeah, well, it's nothing, stop being a chick about it. I said it was no big deal," Kent said, then immediately winced. 

The silence on the other end of the phone was damning. "Right," Whiskey said tightly. 

"Sorry. That was- ten kinds of fucked up." 

"Yeah." 

"I'm sorry," Kent said again. 

"Whatever," Whiskey muttered. He let out a deep breath, and it crackled a little bit through the speaker. "Have a good game." 

"Will you be watching?" Kent asked. Normally he didn't feel the need to check. Any time Whiskey didn't watch one of his games, he told him in advance-- the same way that Kent watched as many of Whiskey's games as he could and told him to have a good game before all of them. 

"I always do." 

"Yeah, but I didn't know if you'd still- yeah, uh, thanks. Love you." 

"...Yeah," Whiskey said, then hung up. 

Kent brought his phone away from his face and wanted to bash his head against the wall. Whiskey didn't always say it back because he was usually in public or around his friends when they had a quick call like that, but this had felt different. Whether it was because of Kent being a fuck-up or something else, he had no idea, but he sincerely hoped it was because of him freaking out for no good fucking reason, because then it would mean that he'd be forgiven pretty soon. If it was something else, that would mean dealing with it in addition to dealing with the age difference thing that he was freaking out over. And he still wasn’t sure that he actually wanted to talk to Whiskey about it. He knew he had to, especially after the mess he’d just made of a twenty second phone call. He just. Didn’t want to. 

He tapped the corner of his phone against his head as he thought. Maybe Swoops had been right and Whiskey was too young for him, but that wasn't what ever went wrong with their relationship. If they had issues, it was because of, well, who Kent was. Not to say that Whiskey was a saint, but he was more deliberate. They didn't get in fights because of shit he said, because Whiskey didn't talk out of his ass any time he was feeling a little insecure. He locked down-- which was its own issue-- but he didn’t snap at Kent. 

Kent sighed and opened his text conversation with Whiskey. The age difference thing wasn’t the problem. He’d been due for a freak out. 

From Kent: Sorry.

From Kent: Saw an article about athletes dating people younger than them and how it was skeevy and kinda flipped.

From Kent: Still kinda freaking out tbh.

From Kent: (Swoops was totally unhelpful)

From Kent: Probably should've just said it but I didn't want for you to freak out too.

From Kent: Not that you freak out very often.

From Whiskey: I freak out all the time who tf have you been dating.

From Kent: You don't freak out ALL THE TIME.

From Whiskey: This morning I panicked because I didn't have the exact change for my coffee. I had enough to pay for it, but using another nickel instead of two pennies made it hard to breathe. Does that really sound like I'm not freaking out? 

Kent started typing a couple different times then deleted what he had. He tapped on Whiskey's contact info, then hit call. 

"Hey." 

"Did you really freak out over two pennies?" Kent asked. He should've led with something more sensitive, but he was who he was. 

"Yeah. Not my finest moment." 

"I didn't mean what I said before." 

"I know," Whiskey mumbled. "I don't know what to do when you get like that, though. Normally I hang up, and the next time we talk, you're fine." 

"If it helps, I don't know what to do when I get like that either. I just wait it out." 

"I was kind of hoping you'd have a plan of action for me." 

"I wish I had one too," Kent said, blowing out a breath. It was annoying when he acted like that, and he knew it was annoying, but he couldn't get himself to stop. It meant that every so often, they'd do this: Kent would say something shitty, things would be awkward, and after waiting a little bit, he'd apologize. 

"What was the article?" Whiskey asked, and Kent had to think back for a moment to remember what he was talking about. 

"Oh. That. It was about Zimms and Bittle. And I was thinking that we're the same age, and you and Bittle are the same age, so..." 

Whiskey snorted. "No offense, but we're nothing like them. They live, like, an hour away from each other." 

"And they went to college together." 

"Are you being weird because you regret not going to college?" Whiskey guessed. Kent brought it up often enough that he figured there was something there. 

"No. I mean, what would be the point? I'm not good at school, and I would've ended up in the league anyways. It'd be fun if we could play on the same team though. Not that you're planning on playing professionally anyways," Kent mumbled. 

"Yeah," Whiskey said, but something in his tone was off. Kent was pretty sure he was staring at the floor in a very particular way right now. 

"What?" 

"I don't think anyone would want me as a free agent instead of the draft. I chose to skip that, and..." Whiskey snorted. "I'm not Jack fucking Zimmermann. All the teams wanted to sign him on, but that doesn't happen to everyone." 

"You're selling yourself short. There have been scouts at the Samwell games." 

"Not for the NHL." 

"Tons of players work their way up to it." 

"Yeah," Whiskey said noncommittally. "You know I don't give a shit that you're older than me, right?" 

Kent wanted to say that yes, of course he had known that, but the truth was that he hadn't-- not for sure-- so he just chewed on his lip and stayed quiet. 

"I don't care about that. It's not like you're forty or something-- that'd be pretty weird." 

"Swoops said he thought it was weird," Kent said without really meaning to. It was a good thing he said it though, because he'd sort of been freaking out about it before, but after talking to Swoops, he'd gone more firmly towards panicking. 

"Isn't Swoops dating an influencer right now?" 

"Yeah, but she's only like a year younger than him." 

"Kent," Whiskey said flatly. "He's dating someone that is basically a low level model on Instagram. He doesn't have room to judge who you're dating if he's making shit decisions like that." 

"Haley's not that bad." She was pretty nice, actually. Nicer than Kent was-- not that that was saying much. 

"Yeah, well when he finds a girlfriend who's a grown ass adult with a 401k and a retirement plan, he can say I'm too young for you and I'll believe it." 

"So you don't think we're too different?" 

"We've got more in common with each other than those two," Whiskey said with a snort. 

"Yeah." Tension started to seep out of him, leaving him boneless with relief. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry for ruining your afternoon." 

"You didn't ruin anything. You busy right now or did you want to keep talking? Foxtrot invited me and Tango to a rehearsal and it was hilarious." 

"Not busy. Tell me all about actors and their shenanigans." 

"Did you really just use the word shenanigans?" 

"Um. Yes? I thought it was fitting." 

"Oof. Never mind. I've changed my mind, you're way too old for me." 

"Hey, respect your elders," Kent snarked back. 

[calumbringbackthewatermelonshirt]

Hiraeth (C.H.) Part 2

FIND PART 1 HERE

a/n: I think after this I’m probably going to try and update once a week to keep things consistent! please enjoy and lmk what y'all think!! also feel free to send me any questions!

“I believe you owe me something.” You had set your tray at your spot at the usual table. The time had come. Your cravings had taken over. The need for some awful, over sugared coffee was consuming your every thought. Except for the ones about Cal. But coffee. Coffee was something you could have, and soon at that.

“And what would that be?” Classic Ashton. Playing dumb. You were relentless, though. Especially when he had something you so desperately wanted.

“We both know. A ride into town. I’m thinking Dunkin first, then target, then chipotle for a quick bite, then more Dunkin.” You had been ticking off your town to-do list on your fingers as you went, wearing a smile very similar to the Sierra wore when she was up to something.

“As much as I would love to drag your sorry ass around the entire town, I’m busy tonight.” You frowned, knowing that if you didn’t go tonight that you might very well die from withdrawal. That and you’d have to wait another week and a half before your schedules aligned enough again to make the trip.

“Fuck.” You dropped your feet from the table and sighed, running a hand through your hair and screwing up the part in it. It would be fine, you’d manage. You’d run out of toothpaste and eyeliner, but you’d live.

“However, my plans do not involve my car, so I’ve arranged to have someone take you in my place.” You perked up again. Even though you didn’t appreciate being toyed with, you could appreciate the dramatics of it. After all, it was fun when you were on the other side of it.

“Hell yeah! Is it Crystal? She’s cool.” You pumped your fist, practically buzzing with excitement. Even better. You could already picture yourself and Crystal screaming the lyrics to the High School Musical soundtrack together.

“Nope. Hood.” Ashton knew he piqued your interest when he saw your eyebrows shoot up. All a part of Sierra’s plan of course. The elusive Hood, who’s name you still did not know. You’d finally be able to meet the most mysterious man on campus.

“Even better. I get to meet the mysterious ‘Hood.’” You put air quotes around his name. At this point, you weren't even sure he was a real person.

“There is a bit of a hitch. With Hood comes four irresponsible teens.” Ashton winked at you, knowing exactly what he was doing. He had to give Sierra her credit where it was due. This plan was brilliant. Instead of one, Hood would now be operating with four wingmen, each one more bold than the last. Ashton could almost picture the dumbfounded look on Hood’s face when they started to hint at their end goal.

“Fine by me. As long as I get my coffee.” You stood and leaned in closer to Ashton, feeling his breath on your face. It was your hand slipped into his pocket, a twenty finding its way into your sleeve and his keys dangling between your fingers. You dangeled them from your fingers, still grinning at Ashton as you backed away and shot off a text to the members of your group.

….

It took about twenty minutes of scrolling on your phone until you finally heard footsteps and the lively, somewhat loud chatter that surrounded your little group approaching.

Your fingers flying, you shot off one last text and looked up.

Only to be met with a very familiar pair of dark brown eyes.

Elevator guy?

A million questions ricocheted in your brain. What was ele- Cal doing here? With your gaggle of friends?And why was he carrying Luke on his back piggyback style?

You froze, head cocked and eyebrow raised. Cal strongly resembled a deer in headlights at this moment, having missed a step when he noticed it was you leaning against the car. Luke didn’t notice; instead, he took two fistfulls of Cal’s hair, as if trying to control him that way, like Remy and Linguini in Ratatouille.

Michael was the first to catch on to the tension between the two of you. He head swished back and forth a few times, trying to patch together why both of you had reacted to each other like that. It took a second to click. “Wait, do you two know each other?”

“We’ve met. Briefly.” You winked at Cal and slid your phone into the pocket of your jeans, procuring Ashton’s keys in its place. You jingled them before the group for a second before tossing them over to Cal. Kaykay gave her best attempt to snatch them out of the air, but Cal caught them easily over her head, appearing to still be a little bit stunned by your presence.

“Wait a second. You’ve met?” Sierra was screeching. You and Hood were supposed to meet like this, not however you had met before. This couldn’t be right, one misstep could throw off her whole plan, and she had NOT gone to the lengths of planning your wedding only to have it be for nothing.

“Um, yes. Just for a second, though. In the elevator up to the first bell classes.” Hood dropped Luke from his back unceremoniously. Instead, he studied the keys in his hands, looking again like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. You were starting to wonder why he looked like that every time he saw you.

“So you’re the famous ‘Hood’ I’ve been hearing about.” You grinned and pushed yourself off of the car, crossing your arms. You took a few steps toward him. “I was beginning to doubt you even existed.”

Kaykay snorted and stopped messing with Luke's hair for a second. “You two have met. Obviously he existed.”

“No, no. I met Cal. Hood was a rumor.” Kaykay and Sierra turned and gave each other a look. They seemed to be in agreement that maybe the prior meeting wasn’t so bad.

“Alright, alright. Are we going or not?” Hood sighed and stalked around to the driver’s side, getting into the car before anyone of them could even think of saying anything.

You turned and hopped in the passenger’s side. Only to hear five other people shouting at you.

Apparently, getting in the car was cause for rioting these days.

“Hey, why do you get shotgun?” Kaykay was the first one to say something vaguely coherent. She almost never got shotgun, and she had kind of been hoping that today would be her day.

“Yeah, hey, I want shotgun.” Sierra was next, speaking fast. She was right next to the door, tugging on the handle. But before she could make her first pull, Hood clicked the lock button on his side of the car, effectively shutting all the kids out.

“It’s not too late. We can drive off and leave them now.” Cal? Hood? sighed out his words, leaning forward and putting his head on the steering wheel.

“Oh, come on. You know you love them. It’s obvious. Besides, the only way they’re gonna get me out of this seat is if they kill me first.” You turned to the window and stuck out your tongue at the kids staring at you through the window before putting on your seatbelt.

“Have you met Kaykay?” Hood smirked at you, looked out at the murder written on Kaykay’s face, and then back at you. “That might not be as hard as you think.”

“Believe it or not I’m tougher than I look.” You unlocked the car with the button on your side, but flipped the lock on your door back.

The kids piled into the car, grumbling about being shoved into the back.

“Damn. I wanted up front.” Michael climbed in behind Hood, but not before leaning the seat forward to allow the two youngest to clamber into the back.

“Yeah, yeah. We all wanted shotgun.” Kaykay was behind you, picking at her fingernails, disgruntled. “Can I at least have the AUX?”

“No offense, Kay, but no one wants to listen to death metal.” Sierra wrinkled her nose at the idea of having to headbang and messing up her hairstyle. Her space buns may have looked messy and spiky, but that was a carefully curated look that had taken her a while to perfect.

“I wanna listen to Mozart. I find it calming. You know, statistically, babies who have mozart played to them in the womb come out smarter?” Luke was a big fan of classical music, despite his younger age. He found it versatile, great for both studying and falling asleep to.

“Makes sense. I guess your mom must have played you a lot of Mozart when you were little, huh?” You twisted around in your seat and smiled at Luke for a second, who flushed, but still smiled back. “How about we all choose one song to go on a playlist and we can turn that on shuffle?”

All the children shrugged and nodded, so you called names and collected the songs into one playlist on your phone, playing it through the car stereo a bit louder than was necessary.

“That is the fastest they have ever agreed on anything ever.” Hood looked at you out of the side of his eyes before turning his attention back to the road. “And the fastest solution we’ve ever procured for an argument.”

You shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a natural leader.”

Most of the songs on the playlist ended up being ones you all knew enough to sing along to, asides from the cello melody (Luke) and the heavy metal music (Kaykay).

It took about half an hour and another song draft to reach Dunkin. By the time you got there you were practically vibrating with excitement. Hood kept glancing at you, a small smile at his lips and mirth in his eyes. Apparently, he took great amusement in your love for mediocre coffee.

Instead of attempting to corral all the kids in and out of the restaurant, Hood figured the drive through would be a more time effective option.

Kaykay demanded to order for herself, despite being on the wrong side of the car and in the back seat. Still, Michael rolled down his window obediently, just sighing and leaning back when she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed into his lap to talk into the speaker.

You went next. You felt bold for no reason today. That was the only explanation for what you did. Mirroring Kaykay, you too unbuckled, leaning over Hood’s lap to rest your weight on the car door.

“I’ll have six shots of espresso, over ice, with a caramel drizzle, please.” You heard a scoff from inside the car, turning to find Kaykay gaping at you.

“That’s enough caffeine to kill a small horse.” Kaykay was a little amazed, and a lot worried. You didn’t even order milk. That was gonna taste like battery acid.

“Are you okay?” Sierra looked absolutely disgusted at the mere thought of your coffee order. Even though she was more of a tea person, Sierra liked her coffee as sweet as her personality.

“I think it sounds good. Can I have one?” Luke barely got the words out before five simultaneous nos were yelled.

“Luke, honey, I’ve only known you for a couple weeks, but even I can tell that you and coffee would not be a good mix.” You took sympathy on the child, who looked downright embarrassed by his chastisement. “How about a hot chocolate instead?”

Luke seemed to perk up by that idea, and when the car pulled up to the window, you wordlessly handed Hood your debit card.

“I have cash with me. How much was my drink?” Michael was the first to ask. You knew it was coming, the onslaughts of ‘let me pay you backs’ and ‘here's the money for my drinks.’ But that wasn’t gonna happen, at least not today.

“This one’s on me.” It was simple enough, but all the kids still looked suspicious. You rolled your eyes, a little offended that you had to explain being nice. “Think of it as a thank you. You know, for taking pity on me and allowing me into your little group.”

They still all looked like you were about to tell them their dog had died.

“Fine. My parents are loaded, I took the RA job cause I wanted my own room, and the way I communicate love is through gifts. Happy?”  You sighed and slurped down half your coffee in one sip.

“Isn’t it almost freezing outside?” Hood was the first to break the somewhat awkward silence. “Are you sure drinking an iced drink was the best choice?”

You grinned slowly. “It’s time I told you my life motto. If you can’t handle a cold drink during the winter, your bloodline is weak.”

Seeing as you had the only iced drink in the car, this caused a bit of an uproar.

…

“Hey.” Cal had turned down the music in the car. Aside from Kaykay, who had her headphones in, you and Cal were the only two people awake. So when he broke the silence on the ride back to campus, it startled you just a touch.

“Hey yourself.”

“I, um, I had fun today. It was nice to see you again.” You made a mental note about Cal: he reverted to CEO mode when he got nervous. Well, you assumed he was nervous. He wouldn’t make eye contact with you, so you figured you were probably right.

“You, too.” His nervousness was kind of endearing, you thought. Even if it made talking to him a little bit awkward and choppy.

“You know, I’m actually pretty grateful Ashton bailed on me.” Calum’s eyes widened a bit, but you ignored it. You had a feeling if you pointed it out, Cal might do something drastic like bailing from the car while it was still moving.

“Oh?” Hood attempted to keep his expression neutral, but there were all sorts of bells and alarms going off in his head.

“Yeah, it was fun spending time with all of you. Being part of a group like this…” Your tongue darted out of your mouth and wetted your lips. You rolled them together and then drew your bottom lip in between your teeth. They were such a tight knit group, and while all of them were welcoming and kind to you… it was still hard to not feel like an outsider. You didn’t regret it, of course, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that this was a honeymoon phase in your friendship. All good things came to an end. You just hoped it would be later rather than sooner. “It feels like a family.”

“We’ve only known each other for three months.” Cal looked at you out of the side of his eye, skeptical. He was close with his little gang, but family was a bit of a stretch in his opinion. Sure, he spent all his time with them and looked after them, and cared about them, of course. But that didn’t exactly mean they were family.

“Cal, you literally make them bring you their report cards so you can make sure they’re doing okay in all of their classes.” Was he kidding you? It was funny how the man in front of you was able to delude himself in believing that was true.

“I don’t give a damn about their grades.” Hood scoffed. He had his own problems that didn’t include the grades of a bunch of freshmen and sophomores.

“You give so many damns they’re visible from space.” The lies about not caring were probably to keep up his stone cold loner ruse. They were, of course, lies, but you didn’t want to spoil that for him.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Hood was grumbling, but there was a slight chuckle behind it.

…

It was a couple of days before you had the time to speak to Cal again. The older kids used a ‘divide and conquer’ method to keep tabs on the troublemakers of the bunch, which was a lot more difficult than you remembered babysitting to be.

It was in the library. You had been in there for a couple hours at that point, desperate to get in some studying for your test in AP history. That table had been your best friend for a while now, so when Crystal started her shift and came over to chat, it was a welcomed interruption.

“Hey. What are you doing?” She motioned to a chair, sliding it out and taking a seat only after you waved at her that it was okay.

“Just doing some cramming before my history test tomorrow.” You sighed, marking your page in your history book before slamming it shut and sliding down in your seat. “You?”

“Luke asked me to pick some books up for him, despite having not yet finished the ones he’s already checked out.” Crystal made her hands busy flipping through the pages of the books Luke requested. They didn’t seem bad, just… tedious.

“Our own little genius.” You stood, pushing your chair back as you went. “I’m going to grab some paper from the supply closet.”

As soon as she was sure you were gone, Crystal pulled her phone out of her pocket and shot off a quick text to Sierra.

Sierra smirked from her own table at the library, hiding it just in time from Hood. He was ‘helping’ her study for english. Or so he thought.

“What?” Hood looked up from his own calculus homework. “You’re looking at me weird.”

“Nothing. Will you go grab more printer ink from the supply closet? I need to print off my rough draft, but the computer says the cartridge is empty.” Hood grumbled, but he rose and set off in the direction of the supply closet anyways. Sierra grinned at his back. Phase three was a go.

It only took Hood a couple minutes to cross the library to the supply closet. It was mostly empty as he navigated through the bookshelves. He gave a quick wave to Crystal when he saw her, but didn’t stop to chat since she had her headphones in.

The storage closet was small. It barely fit the few racks of supplies that had been stuffed in there, much less a person. Or two people.

Hood. And you.

Hood, once again, felt himself freeze. He really, really had to stop doing that. It had been a few days since he saw you last, and he wasn’t expecting to see you here.

That was when he heard the door click shut behind him.

“Oh, no.” Hood whirled around, pulling on the door as hard as he could. Nothing. Shit. Shit fucking balls. He had just managed to get the two of you locked in here. Together.

“Oh, no?” You sounded a little concerned and a little offended. ‘Oh no’ was never great, but there was raw fear in Cal’s voice.

“Um, I may or may not have just gotten us locked in here.” Hood rolled his lips into his mouth. Not good. He reached for his phone, only to realize that it was still back at the table with Sierra. He didn’t think he would need it. Apparently, he had forgotten to account for the fact that he was very dumb.

“ Oh. Oh, no.” This time it was your turn to panic and pat yourself down, also searching for your phone. You had yours on you, at least, but it wasn’t much help since the battery had died a half an hour ago.

“Yeah. Not good.” Hood exhaled slowly through his mouth, sliding his back down the door til he was sitting on the ground. “Well, at the very least, we know someone will come for us eventually.”

“We do?” You walked over and took a seat next to him, your shoulder brushing his.

“Yeah. I’m here with Sierra. She sent me to get an ink cartridge. It’ll probably only be a few minutes before she comes looking for me.” Hood glanced down at his watch. 7:38. He would guess they’d be out by 8:00. And that was being generous.

“Good to know. Guess it’s just you and me until then.” You sigh and tipped your head back, leaning it against the door.

“I can think of worse company.” Hood watched as you raised your eyebrows, leaving your eyes closed.

“Hmm. Like Luke hopped up on sugar.” You smirked at your own words. Luke was already hard to control.

“Have you ever met Luke on a sugar high?” Hood leveled his eyes at you, and you peaked the one closest to him open.

“No?”

“Then you will never know how true your words are.” Hood chuckled a bit at the memory of Halloween. They let Luke ration out his own candy. That was mistake number one.

“Oh god. I don’t even want to know.” You grinned, but it was a tired one.

“Can I, um, ask you something?” Hood fiddled with his own fingers, more nervous than he had been in a while. And for what? You were just a person. Okay, maybe not just a person. But there still wasn’t a reason for all the knots in his stomach.

“I’m an open book.”

“Why did you only start as a RA a couple weeks into the school year?” It bothered him to not know. He was an RA and still couldn’t figure out a reason after thinking about it for weeks.

“Oh.” That was not what you were expecting him to ask. “Um, I had applied. The old RA left to go to the public school. That’s pretty much it.”

Hood just hummed. He felt like there might be more to that story, but it wasn’t his place to pry.

“My turn.” After you felt Cal’s eyes on you, you sat up and met them. “You got to ask a question. Now it’s my turn.”

You studied Cal’s face for a second before deciding on your question. “What do you think is your biggest flaw?”

Hood chuckled. “This is gonna be ironic, but probably the fact that my sense of humor doesn’t exist.”

“Now that can't be true. We're talking, laughing.” That much was true. You were both smiling.

“Okay. My turn again?” After a quick confirmation nod from you, Hood asked his next curiosity. “What’s your favorite place on Earth?”

“Home.” It was so simple, just that one word. And yet, you sensed that it had somehow struck deep with both of you. You were sure for different reasons, though.

Your next words were forcibly bright, rushed. “My turn. Do you prefer when people call you Hood or Cal?”

“That would depend on the person, I suppose. Everyone calls me Hood, including most of my teachers.” Hood smiled down at you, as if daring you to do what you were both thinking. “Back to me. How about your favorite book?”

“I can’t choose just one. There’s all sorts of great crap out there.” You smirked. “The fact that I called it crap is meaningless. My turn again. Do you believe in ghosts?”

Hood gaped at you. “Really? You can ask me anything you want, knowing full and well that I have to answer with complete honesty, and you chose to ask if I believe in ghosts?”

“Just answer the damn question.”

“Fine. No, I don’t believe in fucking ghosts.” Hood wasn’t 100% confident in his answer. He believed in the possibility of ghosts, perhaps. But not the existence of the ghosts themselves.

“Look, I just asked if you believed in them. I didn’t ask what you thought about their sexual habits.” Hood pushed your shoulder playfully, chuckling again. He had noticed himself doing that kind of a lot around you. It felt...nice.

The frequency of the questions dwindled after that, most of them escaping as yawns through your lips. More than once you found yourself nodding off in the middle of both questions and answers. Hood found great amusement in it. You would scrunch up your nose and sway a bit, wiping at your face and trying to fight your own body. Eventually, you would succumb to sleep, your head just brushing his shoulder. It would rest there for a split second before bouncing right back, snapping you back to consciousness each time. Each time, your head would use his shoulder as a pillow for just a fraction longer, until eventually you didn’t wake back up.

You were just�� sleeping. On him. Really, you were snoring a little. It was cute to him. Hood glanced back at his watch. 8:17. It had been over half an hour, and still no rescue. Hood reached behind him and gave the doorknob a little jiggle again. Still nothing. He sighed, not that he was expecting it to magically open. It was worth a shot.

It was five minutes later Hood heard footsteps. He didn’t even have time to turn around to knock before the door swung open. You and Hood fell flat on your backs without the door supporting your weight, waking you up. In Hood’s arms. He had put his arm around you when you fell to make sure you didn’t hit your head, although, now that he was thinking about it, that was a bit weird. You sat up before he could move, pulling him up with you.

“Sierra. Our savior.” You grinned up at her. Cal was already on his feet, offering you a hand to help you up. You took it, barely using any of your own muscles with the strength he used to pull you up. “Well, this has been a pleasure. I’ll see you around, Calum Hood.”

From there, you went back to your table to gather up your things. It was time to get some real sleep. And not on the shoulder of Calum Hood.

…

tags: @rbforsmileycal​ @whatthefuckimbisexual​

[heyktula]

Closer, Chapter Four: Kink - Bonus Features

Chapter four of Closer, the first installment in Somewhere in Canada (the Terror kink AU)... is now up! It's a plot-heavy chapter! There's some platonic kink! There's the plot to an entirely different story if you squint!

Technical notes first, story notes after, line notes to finish it all up.

Alright, here we go.

Technical Considerations:

Chapter Titles: So I didn't have any particular chapter titles in mind when I started this story. The original structure I'd planned for was one chapter for Friday, one for Saturday, one for Sunday, with Jopson POV at the very beginning of chapter one, and then again at the very end of three.

Obviously, uh, there was too much story for that to fly. So I cut it where I needed to cut it, and swapped my structure to have Jopson POV at the beginning of every chapter (and bonus Jopson POV at the end of the chapter). So I needed five chapter titles. First I couldn't think of anything good, and then it occurred to me that I could name four of them after the RACK acronym (Risk Aware Consensual Kink), and then it was super fascinating from a storytelling perspective because of the way the chapters lined up. Like, Risk deals with the risks that Edward didn't take because he totally ducks out of talking to Jopson that first night. Aware covers them starting to know each other. Consensual covers the dungeon scene, Kink covers platonic kink, and also the very normal way that both of them have integrated kink into their regular lives, and how it leads to these intimacies that are normal for them, but would be strange from a vanilla perspective or in a vanilla relationship. And then, finally, since I needed a fifth chapter title, Aftercare seemed like the obvious solution, which cracks me up because the entire chapter is, uh, well. I mean, it's aftercare for them. But yeah.

Mornings: So I wanted the structure of this fic to be all chronological in order--ie, no re-covering events that have already happened from someone else's POV within the same fic. (The Tozer/Irving fic, obviously, will be covering many of the same events, but it'll be different enough that it won't matter.) Which led to an icky bit for me, because I split the chapters differently than I anticipated (see above), and needed to start the day out with Jopson-POV even though I already had this lovely Little-POV drafted out.

Thankfully, Jopson came in for the win with that one, because he's a morning person, and Ned isn't, and their alarms were set for different enough times that I could go right from Jopson's wakeup to Ned's wakeup without having to retread the same information or the same section of the day (technically, there's a small chronological overlap, I think Jopson is probably eating breakfast when Little is trying to resurrect himself from his bed, but I've decided I Don't Care).

The Three Bears' Bed: This is such a smol technical note, but I wanted to bring it up because it's one of the really fun things that you can do with deep POV. It's implied (and confirmed in the next chapter) that Jopson and Edward are in essentially identical hotel rooms. But if you squint--they both describe their beds very differently. Jopson's bed is "too big", ie, he clearly sleeps on a single at home, and it's probably not as nice as the hotel bed. Edward's bed, a carbon copy of the queen bed Jopson is sleeping in, is "too small", ie, he's clearly got a king-sized monstrosity for himself back at home. I absolutely live for these kinds of things that are literally too minor to be noticed (nor should they be, they're meant to fade into the background), but which communicate so much about the characters.

(Ah, god, there's going to be so much adjusting for them to do in London. Their lives are very, very different. Jopson is starting to clue in, and he's going to have to sit with that once he has a clear head and lets all the subconscious stuff he's been picking up on actually gel together. Right now, he's very much in the 'whoa that looks expensi--hooooly fuck Ned Little is hot' phase. He'll have a Moment in London, though, where he'll sit bolt upright in his single bed and go wait a minute he put fifties in the donation bin when I blacked his boots and didn't even blink, he just casually throws large denomination bills* around.)

*I grew up low income, and I never carry anything bigger than a twenty in my wallet. People who are used to having more money, in my experience, tend to carry larger bills in their wallets. I know a fifty isn't actually a large denomination bill, but it is when you aren't used to carrying that kind of money around. Fifties make me tense until I break them. If I have a hundred, it's because someone gifted it to me, and I am gonna stress about it until I get it to the bank to deposit. Twenties are good for me, thanks.

Story Considerations:

Jopson's Work Ethic: Jopson's work ethic is in full force here, and I love to see it. I also love to see how firm he is about not hiding it. Like, Blanky understands how rare it is for Jopson to find someone he connects with the way he connects with Nedward, and was perfectly willing to skip the dungeon* to give Jopson another go at it. But Jopson, at some point, has transitioned from 'perfect, a weekend hookup' to 'perfect, I would like Ned in my life always'. (Gonna guess it was that post blowjob cuddle-nap that tipped it over, to be perfectly honest.) And Jopson knows that for Ned to be in his life always, Jopson needs to be realistic with him about what his life actually looks like--so he's going to work the long hours that he usually works, and he's going to run Blanky's booth so that Blanky can head to the dungeon tonight, and when Edward asks to be told literally anything about Jopson's life, Jopson moves immediately to telling Ned about his job.

(You'll note that Jopson has a schedule for working in the morning, the afternoon, and also the evening, ie, decidedly more than an eight hour day/forty hour work week. He did not mention that he frequently goes to Terror, and then shows back up at three am to do more work in a haze of subspace, but I'm sure he'll get around to it.)

I think it's important to Jopson that Edward accept him as he is--that is, no arguing about what comes first (it's work), or what Jopson's priorities are (also work), or how much availability Jopson has for a relationship (all of it...after work). So in that sense, this is pretty much a trial by fire--Jopson is saying 'look, this is what my life is like, and if you fit, you can stay', and Edward, in turn, is saying 'please just let me sit next to you, I like it here'. (I'm sure Tozer would be irritable about Edward's changed loyalties if he weren't currently sorting out, you know, every bad decision he made the previous night).

*This is not a Blanky-specific thing. If Esther were here instead, she and Jopson would have the same arrangement. I think either Blanky or Esther would be equally fun to play with, don't you?

Duty and Responsibility: I also love the differing approaches to duty and responsibility, as displayed by Joplittle--Edward talks, multiple times, about his duties and responsibilities here as something that he needs to shoulder, like it's a too-heavy pack that he's hauling around behind him when he would really rather just pull the covers over his head and stay there. Jopson, however, is thriving under his.

I would posit that, perhaps, if Edward managed to distance himself further from Hickey's bullshit, that maybe his responsibilities wouldn't suck so much. But for Edward to get away from Hickey's bullshit, that would mean Tozer would also have to put his foot down, and Tozer has been ambivalent about doing that, so far.

Sadomasochism, and the ‘Gold-Star’ Dom: Oh, Edward, my sweetheart, my dear, you have a track record of dating terrible people, and hanging out with people who kinkshame you, and I am so sorry that it's come to this.

There's this really fascinating (by which I mean it's incredibly toxic) culture difference between old guard spaces and the "newer" spaces. For people Francis' age who grew up in old guard leather kink scenes, they would have come up in the scene submitting first, and then either continuing to submit, or transitioning into being a dominant as they gained experience. However, for newer spaces--and here, I'm talking about something that was starting to happen for people around Fitzjames' age--there started to be a shift toward just doing one or the other*. By the time we get to people in the same age range as Little**, Tozer, and Jopson, the emphasis on picking one or the other is much more prominent. You should 'know' your orientation when you enter the scene--and then that's typically where you stay. There's no requirement for a dom to have ever subbed--and there's no requirement for doms to be familiar with the business end of their implements either. (If I had a dollar for every talk I'd been to where a dom was proud that they've never actually tested gear on themselves, I would have a lot of dollars.)

This leaves Little in an awkward spot--he's got no interest in submitting (as per the way he nopes out of any sort of cuffs or protocol with James Clark Ross), but, unlike Tozer, who tolerates getting hit in the context of fighting but doesn't particularly like it, Little actively enjoys the pain of getting hit. Based on how awkwardly he discloses that to Jopson, we can infer (correctly) that it's gone down badly in previous hookups.

(The general stereotype that dominant-sadist-top*** and submissive-masochist-bottom are one scale instead of, you know, three different scales, is not helping Ned at all here.)

So Ned is in this spot as a sadomasochist dom where he's had a hard time finding a partner that is willing to accept that he has a masochist streak as well. Enter Jopson...

*I think, though I'm not sure, that part of this shift was kink culture moving into the straight scene as well. Heterosexual kink tends to avoid the formalized learning process, and focus strictly on I Have Always Been A Dom.

**For the purposes of kink!AU, I'm going with approximate show ages for everyone--I think I saw somewhere that historically, Little was older than Fitzjames--but I'm going with an older Fitzjames and a younger Little here, for Fitzier Reasons.

***Note that I’m talking about top and bottom in a BDSM sense here--the one who wields the flogger vs the one who has the flogger used on them. The penetrator/penetratee during intercourse is an entirely separate thing, which....you guessed it....is also unrelated to the above-mentioned scales.

Service: Jopson thrives when he's engaged in acts of service. I really loved working with the translation of canon-to-kink!Jopson, because it's really fascinating to dig into how those canon aspects of his personality translate. Like, the long hours as a steward translate directly to the long hours that he works for Francis. But those acts of service translate really easily into submission as well. (I would posit that, for people who pursue more 'lifestyle' kink as opposed to 'bedroom-only' kink, there's a great chance that they'll pursue jobs that play to those strengths.)

The particular benefit to this that's working in Ned's favour here is that Jopson loves nothing more than to arrange things for people to make sure they have what they need. So this intersects perfectly with Ned's typical methods for managing his top drop--if Jopson can leverage his connections to make sure that Ned has access to people that will let him bottom-but-not-submit for them when he needs it, well, that's a win for both of them.

(I would hazard a guess, if you squinted, that Ned is sexually monogamous, and generally dates other monogamous people, which sometimes makes the negotiation of play with other people outside the dyad a non-starter. I would also guess that Jopson wouldn't consider monogamy to be a particular value of his, and so anything he can do to make sure Ned is looked after is perfect for him.)

Top Drop: Pretty much any kink conference that even slightly touches on educational aspects will have a talk about subdrop, typically led by a sub or a panel of subs, or sometimes by a dom/sub pair, discussing how to properly care for one's sub, how to deal with subdrop, and all those coping kinds of mechanisms. I can guarantee Edward has attended a number of those talks, written at least one blog post, and probably could speak on it if you really bullied him into it.

Those same conferences typically do not talk about top drop. I've been to lots of talks on sub drop. I've only ever been to one on top drop, and it was so horribly done that we’re still talking about it years later. Even googling when I was brushing up on my research for this fic didn't give me much.

Anyways, it's good that Jopson works for Crozier, who treats drop as something that can happen to anyone regardless of position. In turn, this means Jopson is able to recognize it happening to Ned, and will just merrily bulldoze and/or gently bully Ned until he gets the information he needs to be able to help.

RACK and SSC: Ah, look, it's the author picking a pedantic fight in the middle of their fic using their POV character as a mouthpiece. SO. When I was first getting into kink in the early two thousands, SSC (Safe, Sane, Consensual) was the name of the game. It essentially means that the activities you do under the BDSM umbrella should fit all three of those criteria.

The issue that I and many others have with the acronym is that it doesn't particularly fit that well for a lot of the activities in BDSM. After all, what's really safe? You can trip walking down the same stairs that you've walked down every day of your life if your shoelace is loose, or if your ankle goes weird, or if you're just not paying attention. What's sane? No, really, what is it? What defines sane? Should we be using mental health terms to determine whether or not something is a good idea? What's the opposite of 'sane' in this context?

(I'm not gonna bicker about consensual, obviously, that one I still hold to.)

How do you practice edge play under SSC? Can you safely punch someone? Is it sane to do so? (God, I hate the inclusion of 'sane' in the acronym so much.) Can you consent to something that doesn't fit the first two criteria? If you decide an activity fits all three criteria, does that guarantee nobody gets hurt? (Absolutely not.)

So, there's a shift in the scene to use RACK instead--Risk Aware Consensual Kink. RACK is more focused on assessing the risks to specific activities, and consenting to do those activities even though the risk exists. You can definitely punch someone under RACK--because RACK supposes that you've discussed the risks of punching them, you're both doing your best to manage those risks, and you've both consented to the activity while recognizing that it’s inherently risky to do it and you’ve taken as many precautions as you can.

Sir John 'actually the expedition is outfitted for seven years and we don't need any rescue' Franklin is clearly focused on SSC, with an emphasis on no further risk assessments once a particular activity is deemed to be safe. This isn't to say that everyone who practices SSC ignores possible risks--but it is to say that the acronym doesn't encourage active risk assessment the same way that RACK does. (Doing X is safe, therefore, I don’t think about the risks while I do X, because it’s safe.) I personally think that RACK is a more robust way to assess kink activities, but, as you can probably infer from, you know, the entirety of this fic, I take part in a lot of activities that don't fit under SSC, so I'm biased.

I do not blame Edward one bit for getting into that argument with Sir John. I do feel pretty certain that Blanky surreptitiously filmed it, though, so that he can send it to Francis. I also am pretty sure that Francis’ own stance on RACK, which comes through pretty clearly in his books, would have informed Edward’s stance as well, so, you know, full circle there. (Do you have any idea how many people you’ve informally mentored via your books, Francis? It’s *cough*JamesFitzjamesAlso*cough* a lot.)

Florentine Flogging: Here's the reference video I was using for Florentine flogging! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGCQGsxbwtw

Sharp eyes will notice that this is a very similar skillset to spinning poi, which I thought was really neat.

Line Notes:

Jopson will be back in six months to give his talk, and Edward is going to be right there in the front row to support him, and that means that nothing can go wrong this weekend.

It...doesn't actually mean that. I mean, obviously, yes, not being banned from Canada is a requirement. But not having the booth open wouldn't have killed anybody.

Irving dragged you home—please advise how, he’s half your size?

This is funnier once I did some googling and realized that Ronan Raftery is six goddamn feet tall, which makes him two inches taller than Matthew McNulty, but I decided to let Edward's inaccuracies stand because they're pretty goddamn funny. Also, I maintain that Irving gives off smol energy.

“Oh, good,” Irving says, the tension instantly melting off his face. “I’m so glad he made it to bed.”

Tozer did not make it to bed, but, tbh, I wouldn't correct Irving at this particular moment either. Especially not in front of Lady Jane Franklin.

“Who’s this, then?” Lady Franklin asks. She’s wearing a vintage dress from a decade Edward should probably recognize, but doesn’t. (Jopson would, he’s sure of it.)

The 1950s, Edward. It's literally the most easily recognizable decade.

“…he’s fine,” Edward says, more confused than ever.

Edward, Edward, Edward. Both more confused than ever--and completely unwilling to do any followup on this whatsoever, because why ask questions when instead you could eyefuck Jopson. (In a sense, though, this is Tozer's problem, so Edward's ability to disconnect from it completely is probably an improvement from, say, Edward of a few years ago.) Normally, leaving plot threads hanging like this would bother me extensively, but because I'm drafting the Tozer/Irving fic as we speak, I'm comfortable just letting all of this just hang for a bit. These plot threads are important to include because they happened, but they're not important to resolve, because Edward doesn't give a shit.

Nothing fancy—just Ned, with a little handwritten squiggle next to it that’s almost a heart, if you squint.

It's definitely a heart. Jopson just channeled the patented Francis Crozier technique of 'if I make a vague line here, people can interpret it how they want'. Not very characteristic of Jopson--but, as we discussed last week, poor boy is carting around some baggage re: his affection, so we’ll just let him have this.

It’s probably the goddamn bruise from yesterday’s fuckup. Well, that, and the fact that Tozer isn’t there. Or maybe Edward’s just fucking up something else that he’s completely unaware of.

I'd like to propose option four, which is that Edward is hot as fuck, dressed in leather, and was part of a scene that gathered a respectfully distant crowd in the dungeon the night previous. Edward is not aware that option four is an option, but I would like to reassure him that option four is, in fact, an option.

“What do you do for aftercare?” Jopson asks curiously. “Like—what did you do last night, after you walked me home?”

Bold of Jopson to assume that Edward spent two seconds looking after himself. (He won't make that mistake again--Edward's blog entry on aftercare was detailed enough that last-night!Jopson made the endorphin-blurred call that Edward had his own routine sorted, and is now finding out that Edward has no such thing.)

Edward sighs, starts to mentally assemble an apology. He’s done it again—let his guard down, said too much. The apology has never worked in the past. But he’ll have to try. There’s always a chance Edward will get it right this time, even though he’s not remotely ready for this (it was going so well), but he has to, he has to start, he’ll just—he’ll start by—saying—

In true Ed Little fashion, Edward is assuming that the reason this conversation has never gone well in the past is because of him, instead of the more rational suggestion that perhaps he's just trying to hook up with people who aren't actually compatible with him.

Jopson’s face is very pink. “Quite the mental image,” he says. He swallows, visibly. “You and Tozer were, uh. Both holding back during the demo yesterday, then.”

Ah, yes, the look and sound of a man who is rather quickly realizing that a wank fantasy he'd watched unfold in real time yesterday was actually just the tip of the iceberg.

Jopson’s eyebrows shoot up. “Why?” He scrunches his nose, frowns. “Was that meant to be a joke?”

Can't get all sad about Edward's past of attempting to have relationships with people he wasn't compatible with until we also get sad about Jopson's history, which apparently includes men he thought were tapping into his fantasies, only to find out that they were kidding. Ouch, my heart.

“Only if you want,” Jopson adds. “We could also, um. Go for a run?”

I don't believe that Jopson has ever gone for a run in his entire life. I appreciate that he's trying to help, though. That's very kind of him.

Jopson turns. “Hi, yes.”

Jopson cannot let a customer go unserviced, and I, for one, admire his dedication to looking after other people's booths as well as his own. I also think, although this action here is entirely instinctual, it's also a good checkpoint--had Edward reacted poorly to Jopson stepping in, well, that might not have been awesome. As it is, Edward is grateful, so he just keeps landing in Jopson's long-term prospect box.

“You know that huge guy they have on security?”

It's Tuunbaq! Also, Tozer should cool it on the whole "he doesn't speak English" thing, because it's not like Tozer speaks Inuktitut. (And while we're talking about Tozer, yes, he is wearing the equivalent of his mutineer hoodie.)

“And I’m like, yeah, I know him, I was drinking with him last night. And they just look at me. And they look at each other. And then the doctor guy is like ‘we had some concerning reports about his behaviour’, but I don’t know who would have said anything, the only other person there was Irving. Fuck, man, I was answering questions for an hour.”

Tozer, look, buddy. You can have a pass because you're as hungover as shit and I'm sure you've been contemplating death since you woke up, but you answered your own question there. The only other person there was Irving.

The only other person there was Irving.

One would hope that this might, you know, cause you to rethink your association with Hickey, considering that someone else's assessment of his behaviour has resulted in all of this, but I guess we'll have to chill on that for now until we get some Tozer POV.

Edward frowns. “He doesn’t drink?”

Pulled this bit directly from canon, and because I also think it's a fascinating bit of character development. Adam Nagaitis had such insights into his character in the AMC interview (https://www.amc.com/shows/the-terror/talk/2018/04/the-terror-qa-adam-nagaitis-cornelius-hickey) and I really think it's interesting working with that in a modern AU as well. So--this version of Hickey doesn't drink either. I think it's also interesting in how Edward and Tozer deal with this--Edward has known Hickey for years, and never noticed. Tozer knows--and still gets shitfaced anyways, even though he's drinking alone.

Tozer’s eyes go distant. “It’s the weirdest thing,” he says after a moment. “I think I told Irving about Heather.”

We can assume, for better or for worse, that Tozer's memory of last night is a bit spotty. I am sorry, though, that this is one of the things Tozer remembers. It's further away in kink!AU than it was in canon, but I don't imagine Heather's death was any easier for Tozer here than it was canonically.

(Also, the choreo of Tozer physically shifting Edward's hand off his arm was a late addition, and I hurt my own feelings adding it.)

Tozer raises his eyebrows, and then winces, goes back to squinting. “Hanky code,” he lectures. “Black is for S&M. Your proclivities aside, I don’t figure you meant to flag sub. And stuff it if you tell me it’s a fashion choice, I ain’t got headspace for that bullshit today.” He glances upward. “I swear they turned the fucking lights up in here, Jesus. I’ll see you after, I gotta go.”

Edward, you absolute himbo of a man. Jopson has been trying so hard, and I'm sure that you have a blog entry about hanky code buried somewhere back in your archive, but you also buried the information in your head, and thus did not access it, and all of Jopson's efforts were wasted.

“No, you misunderstand me,” Edward says. “I love that. Christ, the fuck did he finally do?”

Edward, Edward, Edward. Jopson has the right of it with his missing stair comment--but you're just as complicit as Tozer is in this, because by saying nothing and waiting for the problem to go away, you've been rubber-stamping Hickey's behaviour. I feel as though there's going to be Discussions about this in London.

“Honestly, Thomas, after all we’ve been through.” Sophia sighs, and then turns to face the table, braces her hands on the edge of it. “You know you can still call me Sophy.”

One of the things that really sucks about breakups is the part where there are ripples out into the rest of your social circle as well. I have the feeling that Jopson and Sophia might have gotten along really well--but Jopson's loyalties are with Francis, and so he's been pulling back since the most recent breakup in an effort to, you know, not hurt Francis any more than Francis is already hurt. I think it's significant that Edward is allowed to see this interaction, to be honest--because this is insight into who Jopson is as a person when he's not working or submitting.

Ross has a firm handshake, and a bright smile. He’s dressed casually—jeans, and a tshirt—and Edward feels horribly, awfully overdressed.

Edward is not appreciating casualdom!JCR nearly as much as I would like him to, and this is really, really upsetting me, because I would like to appreciate casualdom!JCR a lot.

I also really, really appreciated the opportunity to include some platonic kink here, because platonic kink is really important to me too. Sometimes you’re just in it for the experience, you know? And there’s no additional emotional or sexual connection there.

“Some kind of a multi-tailed flogger,” Edward says. “Little polished leather cord knots on the ends? Punches like a son of a—er, it’s a fairly sharp sting.”

Look, I wanted to include a reference picture for this. I did some googling. I like this style of flogger. But in the course of my googling, I found out that Walmart sells a twenty four dollar version of this in the states (I’ve since been informed it’s a third party seller BUT IT THREW ME OKAY), and I'm too Canadian to handle this, I can barely even handle American Walmarts selling alcohol, okay? So there's just. There's just no pictures. Anyways, good ball end floggers start at about two hundred Canadian, and they punch pretty fucking hard.

Good, Edward thinks. “So, the shower. I went up to the hotel room, figuring, ah. You know. Strip naked, step under the water, all that. And that’s what you should imagine, because I opened the door to our room, and...well, yeah. I’m here.”

Edward is going to need to update his dirty talk game, because this is Not Great, buddy. It's Not Great. And, let's be honest here. I'm sure you have years and years of filthy stories. You're going to need to learn how to tell them, because Jopson will appreciate and value every single one.

Phew. That's it for this week! Chapter five, Aftercare, goes up next Friday, and it is the very last chapter, can you believe. That's not it for this verse, though--I'm starting work on the Tozer/Irving story that runs parallel to this story. There's also a Fitzier that takes places in six months' time (during the winter conference). I have things to say about that Gore, Le Vesconte, and Cracroft situation. I have a story about Peglar and Bridgens. I might have some things to say about Goodsir. I could talk about Edward Little and Thomas Jopson until my tongue falls off. I just have a lot of feelings about kink, okay? And we're very lucky with The Terror because we have an extremely rich background of source material, both historical and tv show.

And if you have questions or anything in the meantime, you can always drop me an ask on tumblr or Curious Cat.

See you next week!

[blueluneacy]

Fairytale Beasts

Happy Halloween month, I wrote werewolf kira. Im back baby. I have a bunch of half finished drafts im working through, so hopefully content will come out soon. anyways warnings for this are just like, dub con i guess? theres no nsfw it just gets suggestive towards the end. also id consider him a yandere in this but thats just me Also on AO3!

You always had to remind yourself that fairytales weren’t real. You always seemed to have your head in the clouds, looking out the window, imagining how you would be swept off your feet by your prince charming. Not that that day would ever come. You always told yourself you had to focus, to work hard, and maybe someday, you could get married. But for now, you had to focus on your office job. You had to. You couldn’t get yelled at by your boss for a third time over daydreaming. Sure, it was boring, meaningless work, but you still had to do it. You had to pay the bills somehow. So, you did so, trying to ignore the stories forming in your head.

You had always been like this, ever since you were a child. It was hard not to be some hopeless romantic in such a dreary world. To fall hopelessly in love was something tons of people wanted, wasn’t it? You couldn’t help but sigh, even as you got up and pulled out your outdoor shoes to head out to lunch. 

It really was a nice day out. You smiled as you looked around, giving yourself the time to stare at the sky, to think about how nice hot coffee would be right now, with foam and maybe some caramel, or even-

You didn’t even realize you crashed into someone until you were on the ground. You cried out as your butt hit the ground, the pain of it causing you to come out of your haze. You saw the man you bumped into, and gasped. He was… Gorgeous, to say the least. You were doing your best to keep yourself from falling completely head over heels right there. You weren’t sure why you were so entranced, but just looking at him made you blush. From his golden hair, to the way his suit fell over his shoulders, to the expression of annoyance on his face. You noticed that annoyed last, and scrambled back, wincing slightly at the pain in your tailbone. 

“Um, I’m sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’ll be more careful next time!” You were scrambling around for your bag, trying to pick up the things that had fallen out of it. You were too busy with your own thoughts to remember to zip it up. When you finally looked back at him, you noticed a hand in your face, raised to you. He was already standing, looking down at you. You gingerly took his hand, noticing how warm it was. 

“Do you feel alright? You looked like you were in pain.” He asked, and you quickly drew your hand back once you realized you were still holding it. “Oh, me? I’m fine, just a little bruised!” You told him, laughing a bit. He gave you an odd look, one you couldn’t quite understand, then sighed.

“Then, do you need me to walk you home? You might get yourself more injured.” He asked, and you just squeaked as your heart skipped. What a gentleman… It was like the fairytale in your mind was coming true at last. But, you didn’t just give in, hoping in this stranger’s arms and asking him to take you to your happily ever after. You couldn’t, there just wasn’t enough time in your lunch break. “Oh, sorry, I’m actually on my lunch break right now… I um, I should actually get going.” You told him, looking at the ground, but he just smiled at you. You were so perfect. The way your eyes lit up was absolutely adorable. He supposed he could play with you for a little while. It would tie him over before his cravings started again.

“Then, would you like to eat lunch together? There’s a nice park we can sit at just a few minutes from here.” When he asked, you just knew you were screwed. You felt the blush rise in your face, and you just nodded dopily, giggling a bit. The man smiled at you, trying to keep back from squeezing too tightly as he took your hand and led you to the nearby park.

The two of you sat down under a tree in the shade. He finally introduced himself, and you just smiled, stumbling over your words. You felt the blush rise in his face, but he just laughed. He seemed to be good natured about everything. You felt yourself wanting to know more about this man, the man who’s name seemed to ring through your head like the chiming of bells.

Yoshikage Kira, just who are you?

He talked little more than face value about himself, instead asking your questions of some of the deepest nature.

“Where did you grow up?” “What kind of things scare you?”

“Are you so nervous around everyone?” 

The answers you gave proved to be adequate to Kira, and you sighed in relief. After all, each word that Kira spoke to you seemed to pry its way into your soul, causing the butterflys in your stomach to flutter even more. You felt like if things continued this way, you were either going to throw up on your newfound crush or faint from your rising body temperature. But, as all good things do, the lunch came to an end.

“Ah, I have to get back to work.” Kira looked at his watch and stood up, holding out his hand to help you up. You saw the time on his watch and squeaked. You were already 5 minutes late. He just smiled and laughed at you again.

Kira escorted you back to your office after lunch was over, and you assumed that was the end. Your fairytale was finally over. But, then, you saw him again the next week, and he ended up walking you home from work. You offered him to come inside and have some tea, but he just waved you off.

“I really shouldn’t stay out late.” 

Then, another time, it was a grocery store, where you stumbled right into his arms after tripping over some boxes.

“You do have a habit of falling into my arms, don’t you?”

Then, there was the coffee incident, where you ran into him at the same cafe you like to go to, and ended up completely ruining his shirt with iced coffee. You spent the next half hour trying to clean it with tissues.

“It’s really fine, dear. You don’t have to worry, I can take care of this.” The pet name he called you made your head spin, and you looked away, hoping to conceal how embarrassed you were.

“But, the stain…” You mumbled. “I’ll take it care of it. Besides, aren’t you late?” He asked, and you cringed. You were certainly going to get yelled at for this one.

“I, well, yes, but… I just want to try and fix my mistake…” You told him sheepishly, turning to run away. You wanted to get away from him before tears started flowing. But, as you tried to walk away, you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, (y/n). It was an accident. I don’t blame you for anything.” He told you, and you whimpered slightly, nodding. You refused to speak, for fear that your voice would crack and reveal how upset you really were. “So don’t worry about it, alright? It was actually… Nice to see you fuss over me like that.” You quickly turned to him, shocked at how serious he was. You felt yourself laugh, and he looked away, pink starting to dust his face.

“Hey, I’m serious. Don’t laugh at me.” He said with a slight pout. You wiped away some tears that started to fall, and smiled. “Hey, Kira, when’s your next day off?”

And so, your fairytale continued. You ended up at a teahouse, talking and laughing. It felt like a dream come true. He even asked for your phone number so he could schedule something with you again. 

One date became two. Then three, and four, until finally, the two of you felt like a real couple. Kira was cool, tender, everything you wanted in a boyfriend. Your coworkers told you that they noticed how light and airy you were when you worked, even if you still made as many infractions as you did before. But, there was one thing wrong with your happy relationship.

“I can’t. I told you, I don’t like nights.” That was it. Kira would only meet with you during sun up. At night, he absolutely refused, no matter what. A movie? Well, there was a matinee, wouldn’t that work? Who needs to drink together, isn’t the teahouse fine? If you want, we could have an early dinner or a late lunch! It was a bit irritating, but you put it off. After all, he was your boyfriend. Maybe he was just a private person, or busy. Still, it haunted you. What was the man whom you loved so much hiding from you?

Yoshikage Kira, who really are you?

You felt bad about doing it, you really did. He tended to walk home alone in the fall, as to make sure he was home by sundown. You shouldn’t be following him without permission, you knew that. But god damn it, the man never even told you his address, even though he had been at your house countless times. So, you followed him, watching how he walked up to his own doorstep, unlocked his door, and went inside. And… That was it. Nothing else happened. You watched the house as the sun went down, but still, nothing. You sighed, feeling horribly guilty. Kira trusted you to respect his space, and here you were, spying on it. You stood up from your hiding spot to go home. Maybe you would be in time to watch some TV before going to bed. This was a bust, and you couldn’t help but feel bad about it. But, as you began to walk away, you heard it.

Maybe it was your imagination. But you swore, it had to be real. The sound of shattering glass, falling furniture, and… Some sort of animal? It sounded almost like a howl. Maybe Kira had a dog? You turned back, walking over to the house until you finally got to the front door. You paused at the door, looking and thinking. Should you really do this? The sound, it was… Could Kira be hurt? And if he was… What would happen if you did nothing? Even so, what if he hated you now? 

Perhaps it was a risk worth taking.

You opened the door slowly, finding it unlocked, and entered the house. You swallowed as you took your shoes off, entering slowly and quietly.

“Hey, Yoshikage? I, uh, I was…” You had no idea what to say. At least you made your presence known. You entered the house slowly, wincing as you hear the wood creak with your every step. You finally reached the living room, finding an absolute mess. A book shelf was thrown onto the floor, and the couch cushions were completely torn. You looked over at the pile of fuzz, turning your head back to the wall where you believed the bookshelf once took. The wall was covered in… “Are these… Claw marks?” You whispered to yourself, leaning in to touch the now ruined wall, only to feel large hands push into you, grabbing your arms. One was pinned behind your back, while the other was against the wall. You screamed and squirmed, feeling hot breaths start to reach your ear.

“Is that… (y/n). You’re here. I could smell you the minute you walked in the door.” You were shocked and started to squirm.

“Yoshi, w-what’s going on? Let me go!” You cried out, but his grip only got tighter. You felt sharp nails, no, claws, start to dig into your wrists, and you turned back to try and look at your boyfriend. He seemed to have grown in height and strength, and you noticed hair all over him, a sharp contrast from the clean cut man you knew.

“I told you not to come here. I told you I couldn’t see you at night!” He was growling at this point, angry. You felt your wrists start to bleed, and you cried out. The blood did not go unnoticed by Kira, who started to sniff the air before leaning in closer to the wrist pinned to your back. You tried to crane your neck back to see what he was doing, but all you could see what Kira’s torn up clothes, fur that seemed to be all over him, and you even noticed a tail that started to wag as soon as you felt it. Kira examined your bleeding wrist, and lapped up the blood, even getting between your fingers a bit. 

“You… You can’t… No one can know.” He told you, and you just whimpered, squirming more. “Y-Yoshi, please let me go, what’s going on?! Please, tell me.” You were shocked and horrified at what was happening. This is not the fairytale you had expected to find yourself in. Your boyfriend was supposed to be your prince, your knight in shining armor. Instead, you had seemed to find a beast in his place. 

“I warned you. I so desperately tried to warn you.” He seemed almost sad, but only for a moment, before he finally turned you around to face him, his rage for betraying his trust coming back. You were… Shocked. You saw those sharp teeth, the smell of your own blood on his breath, and you just couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Y… You’re not my boyfriend. Y… You can’t be!” You cried out, squirming once again, trying to free yourself from his grasp. He let out a laugh, one that you used to love, but now was leaving you horrified.

“You don’t believe it’s me? Really now? And after all the time we’ve spent together.” He told you, leaning in give a tentative kiss on your neck. You gasped, looking at him with shock. He still smelled like his usual cologne.

“Y-Yoshikage… Please, Yoshi…” You whimpered, but he just continued, giving a new nips to test his boundaries. 

“I told you. I tried to keep you out of this. But I can make this work. We can make this work.” He told you, and you cried out as you felt him bite into your neck, drawing blood. He gasped happily, moving to lap at your neck once again. He let out a hum, obviously pleased.

“If you came in when I was any hungrier, I might have torn you apart. You should feel lucky…” You felt his hands start to run all over your body, his claws starting to hang on parts of your clothing and tear them slightly. You tried to protest, clothes were expensive after all, but you would be quickly cut off by your Kira’s lips meeting yours, immediately forcing his tongue inside your mouth. He quickly forced you into submission, and even worse, you could feel yourself starting to want more. You let out a small moan as Kira pulled away and nipped at your lip. You hoped that he wouldn’t hear, but his keen ears flicked at the sound, and he just grinned.

“You like that? How crude of you. You know,” He tore your shirt off completely, you squeaking before it turned into a moan as he moved a clawed hand to your nipple.

“Originally, I was planning on eating you. I never planned on getting so attached… But I noticed how beautiful your fingers looked holding your lunch… And I became obsessed.” He told you, and you looked at him, a bit shocked.

“And now… Now that you’ve seen me… You can never leave me. Isn’t that wonderful?” He asked. You whimpered and just looked away. He… Killed people? You had always heard about the women who went missing in this town, but… It couldn’t really be him, could it? For the first time, you truly felt like you knew what terror was.

However, Kira wouldn’t take your silence. He simply scooped you up, and threw you onto the torn up couch, climbing on top of you. He quickly regained his spot at your neck, laughing once again. His body was just so hot, but it couldn’t stop your body from shaking in fear.

“You’re trembling… Hmm… Well, no matter…” He gathered up your wrists and pinned them above your head, looking down at you as if you were nothing more than a hunk of meat to him. In a way, perhaps that’s all you were. The look in his eyes was something you could only describe as feral and completely deranged.

“After all, I have forever to make you mine.”