#I keep adding too much details but honestly as long as I’m finishing these in their allotted time slots I’m happy

[quirkycritters]

Behold, the second half of my Art Fight attacks! IM FREEEEEEE YEAHHHHHHHH (come find me on AF!)

In order, these are for @little-angelbun , @hammieboye1 , @kazehita , @bunbiiit , @wiltingthing , Snakeheart , @helmetavenue , and NightfuryDraws !

I had a blast getting to experiment with and practice my toon style this year, and this was barely a fraction of what I had planned- looking forward to next year YIPPEEEEE

[violettaskies]

To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known

(ch. 2)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn

Notes: thank you for all the support on the first part! there is one more chapter after this one (three in total) // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible // honestly, you can just read this without reading the first ch lol but that would help with tiny details!

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader's parents are religious, light manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink, masturbation // please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!

ao3 // chapter one // chapter three // masterlist // series masterlist

-:-:-:-:-

To say Eddie was ecstatic as he drove to your home, is an understatement. He had driven you there countless times after school or the rare late-night tutoring sessions, but he has never gone inside. There was never a reason to. Especially since you both were often only together during school hours and only meeting each other during weekends on the rare occasion you didn’t have a church obligation. 

How he longed to enter the holy house he passed by every few nights to see if you were still awake late into the evening after he finished band rehearsal. Eddie wondered what it is that you did when the light was on, but your shadow was nowhere near the desk next to the bedroom window. 

Little did he know, today was the day he would find out. 

“You seem a little too excited to work on an English project, Eddie,” you said once you noticed that you weren’t the only one in the car who was jittering in their seat. 

“Oh, I’m dreading the work, believe me,” he chuckled. “What I am excited for is the fact that I’m going into your sanctuary for the first time. Now I can find out your dirty little secrets.”

The raspiness in his both scared and excited you. “Hm?” You looked at him for the first time with wide eyes and a shaky voice. 

“Does this mean we get to go into your room too?” Eddie teased. 

“My room? N-no, we can’t go in there.” Inviting the muse of your sins into your home was one thing, going into your room would only make you feel God’s wrath ten-fold. 

“Oooh, she is hiding something, isn’t she?” Eddie wound you up again, keeping one hand on the steering wheel while the other tried to tickle your leg — you backed away again. 

You ignored his teasing, speaking to him in a barely audible whisper: “we’ll work in the basement where my father’s study is. He won’t be using it today since it’s Monday and it’s his day off.”

“Will you tell me what’s bothering you before we head in?” The Dealer said with a pout as he parked in your driveway. “Was it something a person did? Something I did?” If his perverted ways were caught, he wanted to find out now. “You promised you’d tell me, you never break your promises.”

The guilt was eating you up now. Lying, sinning, breaking commandments, and now you’re on the path to breaking promises. If you were alone right now, you would cry; instead, one tear escaped your eyes. 

“I promise, it’s nothing,” the lie came easily this time. “Let’s head inside, please, Eddie.” 

“Alright,” he didn’t want to admit just how beautiful you looked while you cried. 

Once Eddie had opened the passenger for you and let you lead the way into the house, both of your hearts were beating quickly. It became clear that the two of you were nervous about one thing or another – but, there was one consistent anxious thought: your parents were home. 

As you attempted to unlock the front door with shaky hands, the keys rattling a bit louder than what a normal person would be doing, Eddie whispered in your ear.

“I’ll be on my best behaviour, no need to worry,” his voice was husky, resonating through your body with every syllable, and his hot breath on your skin since he pushed your hair to the side without you noticing. It was hard to recognize things with everything going on in your head; so much so, that you didn’t get the opportunity to twist the lock correctly as you turned your head quickly to face him. 

Just then, the door opened, key still in the hole and your hand on the handle — leading you to trip slightly at the door frame. “Darling, you’re home early,” your mother’s sweet, but very confused, voice greeted you at the entrance. 

“Sorry I called earlier saying I would be home late, but then the library was full so we couldn’t work there,” you said meekly whilst taking a step away from Eddie to rid your figures of the compromising position you were just in. 

“Come inside, and tell me who your friend is,” the sheer nervousness in her voice was comedic. Your mother knew exactly who this was. Why you allowed him into this Catholic home, she’ll never understand. 

“W-well this is Eddie, he’s the one whose locker is right next to mine,” you stated, looking over at the boy who was nervous in front of you for the first time in your friendship. He must have felt you glance over at him, since Eddie tilted his head up to mouth: ‘you talk about me?’ before winking in your direction. The smiles that appeared on both of your nervous faces went away quickly. 

A loud cough shocked you, making you two break eye contact, and jump slightly at the sound as you were taking your shoes off. “Munson?”

“Yes, sir.” There were times Eddie hated his last name when older people used it — since they would automatically think of his father. 

“What are you doing in my house?” The anger in your own father’s voice was frightening. Yes, he told you to stay away from Eddie. But Eddie was always nice to you, always sweet and caring; never did you see him commit sins in front of you, so you thought. 

“We were assigned on a project together,” you cut off your own conflicted thoughts. “It’s due Wednesday. However, tomorrow we’re both busy so we wanted to finish it tonight,” the leg-bouncing came back again. “May we please use the basement, dad? You have lots of books in there we could—"

“No,” there was a fire in your father’s eyes that intensified your freight as he began a staredown with your project partner. The man was mad — the first time his daughter brought a friend home and it’s a boy, Eddie Munson for that matter. The boy was known around town for committing the sinful acts of the Devil. Now you’re asking to spend the entire night with him, alone in a dark room? Over his dead body.  

Your mother came to the rescue to ease the tension, “of course you can, I’ll even bring down snacks, and dinner too, since we were planning on ordering take-out tonight anyways.” She looked over at your father with threatening eyes, trying to make him notice that his daughter was on the verge of tears in front of a guest.

“That’s alright, I can take care of—”

“Oh, she’ll be taking care of me alright,” Eddie said in your father’s direction with a sinister smirk, then looked to your mother sweetly. “But, I don’t mean to intrude. I can grab dinner on my way home.”

“Nonsense, you two head downstairs and I’ll bring some water and the strawberries that were new at the store today.”

Eddie couldn’t help but notice the sweet similarities between you and your mother. On the other hand, he really loved pissing off your dad — if all the old man could see was the spawn of Satan, then Eddie was going to give it to him.

“Thank you, ma’am. Now, why don’t you lead the way, Angel?” he said while casually placing a hand on your shoulder, then leading a trail to your neck to loop his fingers through your silver chain. Eddie made sure that he glanced in your father’s direction, when you slightly whimpered at the tug and looked up at the long-haired man. 

“S-sure, it’s this way. See you guys later then,” you were a stuttering mess, trying to speak to your parents while guiding Eddie through your house. 

The only thing you hoped was that once you were alone with Eddie again, your mind would focus on the work; not the intensifying feeling of guilt which made your heart and legs ache. 

-:-:-:-:-

Once the backpacks were on the floor next to the sofa, the contents of your pencil case spread out on the large table your father had in the basement, and a lined sheet of paper with a brainstorm of scratches all over it — the project was well on its way to be completed. At first, since Eddie barely cracked the book open, you two needed to read the assigned chapter. He mentioned that he wouldn’t be able to focus unless you took turns reading it aloud, so that’s what you did. At one point, your mother came down and set some fruit on the coffee table, where you would take a bite of a strawberry whenever you were not reading a page — Eddie did the same thing. 

In truth, he was barely listening to the story, only staring at how your lips became more plump and pink as each paragraph was read. The Dealer hoped that you wouldn’t notice how he inches closer to you on the couch slowly. So that by the time the final page was finished, your knees were touching. 

“Such a pretty voice,” Eddie teased when you stopped reading, nearly whispering it in your ear. Now you started to tense up again. 

“Yours is nicer, I guess it’s because of all your Dungeons & Dragons games,” you awkwardly giggle whilst moving to the left. 

“Maybe you should play one day, but I don’t think you want more of the Devil inside of you,” he chuckled to himself, not realizing how the words made your heart drop. 

“W-what do you mean by that?” your eyes went wide with guilt as you responded. 

“Oh, you know,” Eddie elongated the final syllable momentarily. “I can tell you’re keeping secrets from me. You said it was nothing someone else or I did that’s bothering you. That must mean it’s something you did, huh?” 

His curiousity was always something you enjoyed, it led to your imagination to grow in return. But now, this tendency of his was only making you more nervous if he found out what you did.

You wouldn’t be his good girl anymore.

“We should work on the project now,” you said sternly, ignoring his question. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He flashed his signature smile and wink, then stretched his body from the couch. Then with a tap to your shoulder, you followed him to the large table. 

After three hours, the report itself was done. Mainly you did the majority of the analysis while you asked Eddie what he thought about your points. Luckily, his creativity ran wild so you could just build on what he would say to make his profound words sound professional. Then, as you two were grabbing construction paper and poster board from your mother’s craft stash in the basement, she came down to give you both a simple take-out container of Chinese food. 

Truly, she had been checking up on you two every half-hour. Even going as far as taking you to the side to whisper: “don’t do anything unjust or sinful with that boy. He has a reputation and your father is just beside himself with fear as to what the Munson-child will do to you.” Although she had been the polite host to Eddie, she was always the Catholic housewife who cared more about people’s virtue than anything else. 

Not that your mother had anything to worry about tonight. Thus far, you were so focused on the task at hand that you barely had any unsavoury thoughts about your friend. Like how when Eddie would put his chin on your shoulder as you wrote down what he would say in your ear, making sure that he rubbed your back as he was doing so. You didn’t recognize that whenever you responded to him with a ‘yeah,’ it came out in a whimper sometimes. Even when The Dealer had gone on a tangent explaining something, and he flailed his arms in the air, only to land them on the table — leaning forward and stared intensely into your eyes; you barely noticed how your thighs squeezed together at the tingling feeling between. 

But Eddie noticed, he noticed everything and was loving it. He knew that the project would take your mind off of what was bothering you, so he went back to his regularly scheduled programming. This time though, instead of your sweet smiles and giggles to his antics — you were biting your lip, crossing your legs tightly, and blushing while you laughed. As you two ate dinner at the coffee table while sitting on the floor, Eddie couldn’t help but glance down at the skin of your thighs peaking through the bottom of your skirt; especially how you didn’t fix it like you usually do. Something really was going on with you today. 

“Do you wanna play some music while we work on the presentation part? What type of music does your dad have in here anyways?” Eddie asked while eyeing you suspiciously and eating an egg roll. He was going to try and make you talk about something other than school for the first time in four hours. 

“A lot of gospel music.”

“Seriously?” He looked at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile of disbelief. 

“Yes, he likes listening to that type of stuff, I do too,” you said defensively.

The man walks up to your father’s record player and the shelf of records that are lined up behind it. You were right. “Not even The Beatles or The Rolling Stones? Your old man probably has something.” 

“I’ve never heard him listen to that before. Your uncle has them though, right? We listened to them when I tutored you last year. Those songs were really nice to listen to.” You stood next to him and as he graced his fingers on the spines of the cardboard cases. 

“That’s right, my smart girl.” Eddie groaned and chose one of the records that mentioned it was only instrumentals. It would be better than nothing, so he gave it to you to start playing. “We should put this on, because I’m sure that any of this Christian music will make me burn up,” he emphasized his words by pretending to be burned with holy water, like in the movies. “I’m a sinner, baby,” he chokes out. 

He was just joking around, you knew that. But you stood there with the record in your hand, frozen in place for a moment, before quietly saying: “I think we should finish up this presentation, Eddie.” Then passed the vinyl back to him to input in the record player. You quickly walked to the large table with your silver crucifix between your fingers, while Eddie stood with gears turning in his head. 

That was it. 

Just from mentioning the word ‘sin’ and you were shaking with a fear he has never seen from you since that one time Eddie showed you his tattoo of a demon. Only this time, your fear looked like it traumatized you. 

What could have happened to make you feel this way? Did you sin and your Catholic guilt was eating you up? — the questions plagued his mind as he went over to your fidgeting figure sitting at the work table again. 

-:-:-:-:-

It was nearly eleven o’clock when Eddie and yourself were almost done with the presentation. Whichever teacher in the staff room thought that this project could be done in two days was probably delusional. It took you two almost nine hours to do the bare minimum. Alas, as you and Eddie stood at the table, adding paint and construction paper to the biggest piece of poster board your mom hoarded, it was close to the finish line. While there were instances where your guilt would reappear more often now than before dinner — your mind was still focused on the project.

That was until your father’s voice echoed through the basement’s halls for the first time tonight. He stood at the stairs, still being able to see you and Eddie nearly climbing the table to finish the poster. Still, there was fire in his eyes. 

“Are you two almost finished, yet? It’s pretty late and you both have school in the morning,” he said sternly, but only staring down the young Munson. 

“Almost, dad, we just need to wait for this to dry up and practice the presentation with it,” your voice was quiet as your eyes went from your father’s crossed arms to Eddie’s sinister smile. 

“When will you be going home, Munson?” 

“Oh I don't know, whenever she finishes,” he knew that your father understood the innuendo; however, you stood there tilting your head in confusion. 

Your father scoffs loudly before giving Eddie one last threatening look, then turns to you. “Wrap it up whenever you can. I’m heading to bed, but your mother will be upstairs, so no dilly dallying.” You’re pretty sure that comment was meant for the boy standing with horrible posture next to you, but it still registered as a threat in your head.

“Goodnight, dad,” you nodded, looking up at him with big eyes as he began to walk up the stairs. But, a slightly taunting voice made your father stop in his tracks. 

“Sweet dreams, we’ll be having lots of fun down here,” Eddie said with his smile getting wider with each word. You thought he was just trying to make your father laugh a bit before leaving — with a sarcastic tone towards the school project. But it looks like the scoff your father made, indicated that it didn’t go through; in actuality, your father could see the new innuendo the young man was doing, but decided not to be the overbearing father for once. 

As his steps became fainter, you looked towards Eddie who was now putting a cigarette in his mouth, “what did you mean? When you said, ‘whenever she finishes.’?” you asked. He tried his best not to let his lips curl upwards at his joy of seeing you so innocent to the sexual joke.

“U-uhh nothing.” 

“Good, because. I’m not doing all this work all on my own, we’ve been doing this as partners this whole time. Let’s finish together.” The amount of times he has imagined your voice saying those last three words in his ears was unfathomable — he would memorize this snippet for the rest of his life. Eddie was so enthralled by your words that he didn’t notice that you took the cigarette out of his mouth and was speaking to him again. “You can’t smoke that in here.”

“Your old man smokes.” 

“That’s different, he only smokes cigars and they smell nicer.”

“Tell me where they are and I’ll have my first one tonight,” he winked at you with a smile. 

In an instant, he took the stick back from your fingers and placed it between his lips again. “Eddie, I don’t want you getting in trouble,” you sighed in defeat. “Do you promise to finish the title on the poster while I write up the script on cards, if I let you finish that one cigarette?”

“You could always share it with me so I can finish it faster,” he teased. “Or do you not want to give in to the Devil’s temptation again?”

“A-again?” you stuttered.

Eddie stayed silent for a moment, lighting his cigarette then picked up the letter cut outs to start applying glue on them. “You feel guilty for something, don’t you? Did you sin, sweet girl? You’ve been dodging the topic all day and the only time I was able to read the thoughts behind your eyes was when I brought up the word ‘sin,’ you’re even shaking now just like you did a couple hours ago.” 

He was speaking so nonchalantly. You couldn’t take your eyes away from Eddie’s fingers as they move quickly on the paper, then up to his lips to hold the stick between them. Guilt was eating you up quickly now. No matter how long it subsided, it always came back. Now, even more so since the muse of your sins is starting to figure you out. But then, you remembered: “f-fine, I mentioned that I would tell you after we finished, so m-maybe I’ll be ready t-to tell you then.”

“Looks like you better finish up those cards fast, because I’m ready to hear it all, baby.”

This was it. 

The beginning of your end. 

As you let Eddie use the table, you moved over to the couch, wanting to be far away from him for a little while. Trying to calm your nerves, think of the words to say, whether you would tell him the truth or not, theorizing what he would think of you if you did decide to confess: they were all reasons to stay apart. Especially so The Dealer didn’t see your shaky hands finish up the cue cards. 

Eddie is going to hate me — the words repeated in your head every few moments. You were his sweet girl, the one who read the Bible as often as he read the Lord of the Rings books, the one who needed him to explain dirty jokes to you that people said around school. You weren’t supposed to unknowingly sin for weeks on end with his voice being the imaginary guide to help you find the most relief. After hearing condemnation from your friend at Bible study and your beloved priest right afterwards, you weren’t so sure how your heart would take seeing Eddie’s disgust with you. At this rate, the cue cards were going to be ineligible when you two needed to glance down at them on Wednesday. 

Even from a few feet away, Eddie swears he could hear the gears turning in your head, alongside the continuous pattern of leg shaking. He felt bad, truly. You were always one to be so kind to everyone, so giving and polite. That no matter how much he wanted to know the dirty little secret that was causing you so much pain, what he really wanted to do was just take it all away. Eddie hoped that if you did decide to tell him the truth, that you would feel better afterwards. But, you wouldn’t be able to tell him anything clearly if you were full of anxiety. So he lit another cigarette, making sure you were still busy writing on cue cards with furrowed brows, and walked towards your father’s record player. The selection was absurd, but the soft instrumentals might help soothe your soul. 

In a way, The Dealer regrets teasing you so much about it. You were fine when you were distracted by the project, but now that it was almost over and you were amping yourself up to confess something – you looked like you were about to cry like you did this morning. It was both cute and caused a strain in his heart. Eddie thought back to seeing you first thing this morning and how much has happened to lead up to this point, as he sets a new record to play then jumps on the couch next to you. 

“Almost done, princess?”

“Y-yeah, this is the last card. But it’s messy since my hand hurts and I’m sleepy,” you try to lie a bit to see if he would mention you should sleep instead of having a basement confessional.

The lying was coming to you easily, you really were trying to hide something from him, Eddie thought. “Well then, I would call this an extremely successful night. We’re gonna ace this.”

“Hopefully, weren’t you failing this class because of the last test?”

“Yes, but now because of you, my little Angel, I’m gonna get my grades up,” he winked at you as he continued inhaling cigarette smoke and exhaling it behind him. 

“Please don’t call me that,” you said, putting down the cue cards on the table and then squeezing the fabric of your skirt out of sheer nervousness.

The way your heart was beating out of your chest was hurting you. It felt the same way yesterday when you walked to the confessional at church — and that didn’t turn out so well. So why would it be any different if you tell someone else your sins?

“You’ve been hot and cold all day. If it’s a serious problem and you don't want to tell me about it then maybe you should tell your parents.” 

You were so entranced by your own beating heart that you didn’t notice that Eddie put out his cigarette and sat right next to you in the middle of the couch, while you were leaning slightly on the left arm. 

“I couldn’t possibly tell them, Eddie. I’m already too scared to tell you,” you gasped with tears welling up in your eyes. 

He cautiously reached an arm around you, unsure if you would accept it or not — now that you weren’t distracted by the project, Eddie feared the aching feeling that occurred whenever you pulled away from him throughout the day. This time though, you welcomed it as he started to stroke your skin with this thumb. “It’s probably not as bad as you think it is. Hell, I’ve probably done a lot worse in the past three days,” Eddie chuckled in your ear. 

“Do you like sinning, Eddie?” It’s now or never, you decided to blurt out part of the thoughts lingering in your head. 

“What?”

“The things you do, the things you’re known for. My parents say it’s a form of sinning. But that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

You said your words nearly into his chest, as you went to face him but didn’t have the courage to look him in the eye. Eddie thought it was endearing, “do you think I’m a bad person?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know your answer though. 

“No,” you exclaimed. “Not at all. It’s just— 

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to—” he tried to cut you off, but your quiet voice took over the room. 

“If sinning is so bad, then why does it feel so good?” You finally said aloud the questions that were haunting you. “Why are you still the nicest person I know, when everyone else says that you could be a bad influence on me?”  you looked up at Eddie now, shivering at how close he was to your face. 

“On Sunday, I saw you walk out of the church,” things were starting to click. 

“I went to confession that day and —”

You sobbed, not being able to contain the conflicting emotions you were feeling. The guilt of your sins, and how you wanted nothing more than to do it again.

You’re going to Hell. This confessional is just going to seal it. 

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to. But it may make you feel better.” On the other hand, Eddie wants nothing more than to know your sins, and figure out why you wanted to keep it a secret from him. 

Judging by the way you’re continuously clenching your thighs together, he has an idea what it could be. 

“I shouldn’t,” you say nervously. Just then, Eddie unwraps his arm around you and you whimper at the lost comforting feeling. He kneels in front of you instead. His touch never left you though: placing a trail from your shoulder, to your back, then down your right arm to ultimately grasp your hands. As he held both your hands in one of his, the other stroked your thigh lightly before joining all four of your hands together. 

 You didn’t want to admit that it felt really good. 

“Trust me, anything you did that’s making you feel guilty, everyone else has probably done a million times worse,” Eddie said with a grin. 

“Promise not to tell?”

“Promise,” he tried to soothe your shaking legs by pressing his arm down on your thighs momentarily.

“A-and you won’t judge me?” You try to confirm it. 

“Never.”

You quiet your sobs for a moment, not even breathing, in order to hear if your mother had started getting ready for bed. She has, since the television in the living room was turned off and there were no sounds of footsteps in the kitchen. So you look at Eddie again, tears still escaping your eyes. 

Although he loves the vision of you shedding tears in his arms, he wipes some away with his sleeve. Then places his hand back down to your left thigh, stroking it slowly to try and calm you down. It works, but at the exact same time, it doesn’t. The town nominated the man in front of you as a pawn to Satan — and to you, he was just as bad as the snake in the garden of Eden. He’s the reason why you’re in this predicament. It’s his hands, lips, and tongue that you picture every night as you sin without guilt. Well, until this weekend. 

“Sometimes when I go to bed, it’s hard for me to fall asleep because there’s something bothering me. Like my body doesn’t want to sleep until I t-take care of it.” You try your best to not stutter as you whisper the genesis of your guilt. Eddie knows exactly where the words are leading to. It takes every ounce of strength in his body not to push you too hard for his perverted agenda. 

“What bothers you?” He asks while stroking your clenched hands with his left hand’s thumb. While the fingers on his right are circling your thigh in tiny patterns, inching closer to the hem of your skirt, but never going past it. 

“Everything,” you croak out. “Like I needed a massage on every inch of my skin.”

Eddie chooses his next words carefully, trying to get you to say what he wants to hear: the confession. “If massaging your back and neck makes you feel this guilty, I could always do it for you,” he smiles with a small chuckle, causing you to follow. 

“That’s not –”

“Then tell me,” he said through a smile. 

You clench your legs together out of nervousness. Only to notice that Eddie had placed his fingers atop the middle of your thighs, right where they met. Your thighs had accidentally squished the calloused digits – nearly causing you to want to whimper, but you spoke instead. 

“U-uhm, well,” you paused, “at night when I can’t sleep, there’s no need to massage my neck because that’s not the place that’s bothering me the most. It’s m-my–” Eddie’s eyes widen to urge you to continue.

“Remember, I promised not to judge you,” he says while stroking the skin of your hands in his. But you let your left hand leave the warmth, and moved it slowly to the silver crucifix at your neck. After a moment you made a trail down to the side of your hip — too afraid to point at the other spot that ached more. 

“Here, right here.” The way you bite your lip makes you think it’s about to draw blood. “I feel like I need to move my hips back and forth. S-so I do.” 

Eddie smiles, he’s getting there. It will only take a few more seconds until he hears the full confession, he can feel it. “That’s it, sweetheart? That’s not so bad, I’ve heard and done worse, trust me,” The Dealer says, trying to emit a competitive spirit within you to see if that will push you over the edge.

“No, the part that makes it a sin were my thoughts and what I did to them. You see, I–”

“There we go,” Eddie begins to massage between your clenched legs to try and pry them open so he could start stroking upon your inner thighs. Your body lets him before your mind has the opportunity to tell you otherwise. Your thighs are only an inch apart, but it’s enough room for Eddie to tease the sensitive skin.

“I get a pillow and put it between my legs. At first, I thought that maybe my muscles were stiff so that’s why I did it, honest,” you quietly exclaim to prove your innocent initial thoughts. 

“Don’t worry, babygirl,” he lifts the hand that’s holding yours and kisses your knuckles sweetly. The action makes you whimper. “Pillows are soft, they’re nice. I don’t see any sinning yet though,” he says deeply as a response to your story and both of your bodies tonight. 

“Then, I started to move my hips slowly because the rest of my body felt stiff. So I did, and it felt really n-nice,” you continue your story while barely looking him in the eye, but still following the movements of his hand on your thigh. “I kept going and going until I rolled over onto my stomach to get the ache from my muscles to go away from another angle.”

Eddie knew exactly what you were doing, and he prayed for the first time in a while to keep his hardness hidden from your beautifully tear-filled eyes. “Now that, my darling, is dirty. Tell me more.” If he wasn’t able to do anything with you tonight then at least he was going to memorize this story to replay in his imagination later. 

“The Devil took over me, the priest said the other day. He didn’t hear anything from me after what I just told you. But he was right, Eddie. My body moved on its own. There was this throbbing feeling that kept getting stronger.”

“Where was it doing that?” He asked with feign-innocence in his voice. He knew what you were going to say next, so Eddie lifted your skirt slightly so his fingers could make their way closer to your core. 

“You’re close to it now,” you can’t even say it out loud, so you squeeze his left hand out of nervousness – hoping that what you said is enough to satiate his curiosity. 

Eddie chuckles a bit at your innocence. “Oh, right here,” he places his right hand over your skirt now, laying it above your mound so you could get the picture. You nod hesitantly before he continues. “Did the throbbing feel good though?” he teases you with the question, and you nod again. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Y-yes, Eddie, it felt so good. At one point it was so strong, then it would go away.” There was a sense of sadness in your eyes as you pouted. “But, then I would do it again until I was sleepy.” 

His hand that’s holding yours, lets go for the first time so that he can hold your face with both hands.

Damn the Church for making you feel that way about your pleasure. If he had the chance, he would show you every single way the human body could reach its climax. That would be a real miracle that would make him believe in God. 

“So this is what has put you in such a mood for two days, huh? The words your priest has told you stuck in your head.” He wipes away the abundance of tears from your face so that you stop involuntarily swallowing the remnants of your emotions. 

“Well, it started Saturday, after Bible study. I was talking to my friend about it to see if she knew what I was talking about. She gasped so loud and told me it was sinning because of how I did it to myself and didn’t stop.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he tried to ease your tension.

“But, Eddie,” you exclaimed a little too loudly. He even placed a finger on your lips to hush your tone— scared that you would wake your father up. “She is right. I did that every single day for weeks and weeks. With different things too. Like my stuffed panda, different pillows on my bed, and that towel you let me keep –” 

You’re not completely sure why you were confessing more to Eddie than you did to your own priest. Let alone confess one part about him. But it felt nice to get everything off your chest tonight.

“Look at me, making my cameo in your dirty fantasy,” he giggles before placing a kiss to the side of your mouth. It made you blush to feel his soft lips on your skin, you craved more. “What I’m understanding is that you haven’t been able to do this activity for three days now?” you nodded at the question, too scared to respond vocally because you might let some more slip. 

Eddie took a moment to think about what to say next. This was more difficult than writing a song or doing a math test. Plus, if the strain on his jeans was any indication of how badly he yearned to help you, then the dam was about to burst. 

Every single day for weeks and weeks, the words repeated in his head. 

That means every time he has sat next to you in fourth period, every time you talked to him at his locker, or whenever you sat with his club at lunch — Eddie was talking to an innocent Angel who masturbates and brings herself to multiple orgasms every night without even realizing it. If the man had known, he would’ve invited himself over earlier so he could assist you in your beautiful fantasy. Maybe so that you didn’t need to use his towel to get yourself off, but him instead. 

He continued, “why don’t I help you? That would make it better, won’t it?”

“B-but, that means you’re sinning too,” you squeak out quietly. Not sure if the tears still running down your face are from relief, guilt, or both. 

“I already always do,” he says with a smile. The Dealer keeps one hand on your face while the other places a trail of featherlight touches from your neck to the tops of your thighs. Once it’s there, he massages circles, causing you to rub them together unintentionally. “And you said it was a sin because you did it to yourself. What if I helped you and did all the work? That’s a loophole since this pretty little pussy you have won’t need to do anything.”

Hearing the word out loud made you shiver. Eddie had said it in a way that made you throb in the same way you did all those nights prior. “When you put it that way –”

“We don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. Seriously, this can stop any time whenever you hear the Angel on your shoulder scream at you.”

“I have something else to confess, Eddie.” One of your hands met up with his at your thigh, stroking the veins on his hands that you imagined so often. “You’re my Devil: the only thing that crosses my mind when I sin, tempting me to do so much more,” the words spill out of your mouth quickly, since you feel comfortable enough with this confessional with him — he deserves to know what you’re thinking of. 

“Oh my God,” Eddie groans, squeezing your thigh and rutting against the couch so he could relieve some tension of his hardening member. He really thought he was going to be doing all the seduction tonight, but he was oh so wrong.

“Why do my sins make me feel so good, if they’re so bad?” you pause at the question you've asked about for the second time tonight . “If I’m damned like they say I am, then that means I’m going to Hell,” the quiet voice that emits from your throat is full of guilt and nervousness. 

“Then let's be damned and burn in Hell together, baby. You’re gonna love it,” Eddie says. 

Your Devil, your vessel of temptation, the one person who made you cross the line from being pure to the second-biggest sinner you know — leans forward to capture your lips with his, and oh how you loved it. 

-:-:-:-:-

taglist: @bbyhargrove // @delightfulwinnerdiplomatpalace // @littlemrsmunson // @lolalanaie

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (AOS Edition) Chapter Six

AOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Six: Officers in Distress

Summary: Kirk goes too far and is jetted from the Enterprise, but the ship and its crew doesn't really have a good plan to stop Nero from destroying Celia.

            “Have you confirmed Nero’s trajectory?” asked Spock, entering the bridge with (Y/N).

            “Their trajectory suggests they’re headed towards…Celia, Captain,” said Uhura, glancing worriedly at (Y/N).

            They tensed and swallowed. If Nero was heading towards Celia…their home planet could be destroyed. They could lose everyone. (Y/N) couldn’t have that happen. They couldn’t let it happen.

            “Thank you, Lieutenant,” said Spock.

            He nearly reached out to (Y/N), but in front of others, he couldn’t. Still, he looked at them, and when they made eye-contact, he nodded—an indication that Spock was there to support (Y/N). He wouldn’t let another planet be destroyed by Nero. He wouldn’t let more lives be lost.

            “Are you alright, (Y/N)?” asked Uhura, standing to move to her friend’s side.

            “…I’m worried,” said (Y/N) honestly. “But if we’re going to stop him, we have to keep a clear head and plan.”

            “I’ll keep everyone in line,” said Uhura, nodding firmly. “I’ll make sure we’re running smoothly. I’ll do everything I can to help.”

            (Y/N) forced a smile and squeezed Uhura’s hand. “Thank you.”

            Uhura squeezed their hand in return.

            “Celia may be his next stop, but we have to assume every Federation planet’s a target,” said Kirk, lounging in the Captain’s chair.

            “Out of the chair,” said Spock coolly, and Kirk stood.

            “Well, if the Federation is a target, why didn’t they destroy us?” asked Chekov.

            “Why would they? Why waste weapons?” said Sulu sullenly. “We obviously weren’t a threat.”

            “That’s not it,” said Spock. “He said he wanted me to see something. The destruction of my home planet.”

            “And he wants me to see the same,” said (Y/N), furrowing their brow and curling their hand into a fist.

            “How the hell did they do that, by the way?” snapped Bones, frustrated and angry at how helpless they were. “Where did the Romulans get that knd of weaponry?”

            “The engineering comprehension necessary to artificially create a black hole may suggest an answer,” said Spock, holding onto any space for pure logic. “Such technology could theoretically be manipulated to create a tunnel through space-time.”

            “Dammit, man, I’m a doctor, not a physicist,” said Bones, crossing his arms. “Are you suggesting they’re from the future?!”

            “If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” said Spock.

            “How poetic,” muttered Bones.

            “Then, what would an angry, future Romulan want with Captain Pike?” asked Kirk.

            “As Captain, he does know details of Starfleet’s defenses,” said Sulu.

            “What we need to do is catch up to that ship,” said Kirk. “Disable it, take it over, and get Pike back.”

            “We are technologically outmatched in every way. A rescue attempt would be illogical,” said Spock.

            “Nero’s ship would have to drop out of warp for us to overtake him,” added Chekov unhelpfully.

            “Then what about assigning engineering crews to try and boost our warp gear?” suggested Kirk.

            “Remaining power and crew are repairing radiation leaks on the lower decks,” said (Y/N) sympathetically.

            “Okay, right, but there’s got to be some way—”

            Spock cut Kirk off. “We must gather with the rest of Starfleet to balance the terms of the next engagement.”

            “But how long do we have before he gets to Celia?” asked (Y/N). “We don’t have much time…I know that. And Kirk’s right, we have to do something. If we wait to confront them, Celia could—” They couldn’t finish the sentence and clenched their fists.   

            “(L/N)’s right,” said Kirk. “We should act now. By the time we’ve gathered, it’ll be too late. But you say he’s from the future, knows what’s going to happen, then the logical thing is to be unpredictable.”

            “You are assuming that Nero knows how events are predicted to unfold,” said Spock. “To the contrary, Nero’s very presence has altered the flow of history, beginning with the attack on the USS Kelvin, culminating in the events of today, thereby creating an entire new chain of incidents that cannot be anticipated by either party.”

            “An alternate reality?” said (Y/N) as his words sunk in.

            “Precisely,” said Spock. “Whatever our lives might have been, if the time continuum was disrupted, our destinies have changed.” He turned to Sulu. “Mr. Sulu, plot a course to the Laurentian system warp factor three.”

            “Spock, don’t do that. Running back to the rest of the fleet for a-a-a confab is a massive waste of time,” said Kirk.

            “We don’t have time for it,” said (Y/N) desperately, fighting to remain composed in the face of the concept of losing their home.

            “…We have orders from Captain Pike,” said Spock, avoiding their gaze. He was trying to stay on procedure. If he didn’t…he’d lose control, the loss of his planet and people too great to hold back without any string of logic to hold onto.

            “He also ordered us to go back and get him,” said Kirk. “Spock, you’re captain now! You have to be—”

            “I am aware of my responsibilities,” said Spock.

            “Every second we waste, Nero’s getting close to his next target,” snapped Kirk, and (Y/N) winced as anger flashed through the room.

            “That is correct and why I am instructing you to accept the fact that I alone—”

            “I will now allow us to go backwards!” snapped Kirk.

            “Jim!” shouted Bones.

            “Instead of hunting Nero down!” finished Kirk.

            Spock’s whole body tensed as every instinct, every human instinct, fought to get angry, to yell and scream that he knew but he wasn’t sure what to do. If he went to Celia and it was lost, he’d never be able to face (Y/N). If he went to the fleet, there was the barest chance of being able to fight Nero, and then, maybe, he’d be able to look (Y/N) in the eye.

            But Spock knew it was all mere chance, the slightest possibility. However, he had to fight against the onslaught of illogical emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He needed to remain in control.

            “Security. Escort him out,” said Spock.

            Two officers moved forward and grabbed Kirk by the arms. He instantly thrashed against them, and (Y/N) took a step back at the anger burning around them.

            “Jim,” warned Bones, trying to get him to calm down.

            But Kirk refused to back down, fierce and defiant to the last. Spock stepped up and grabbed his neck. The Vulcan Nerve Pinch froze Kirk’s muscles, and he collapsed into the security guards’ arms while everyone on the bridge watched in surprise.

            “Get him off this ship,” ordered Spock, and (Y/N) had never heard his voice so tight with subdued frustration and emotion.

            Kirk was dragged out of the room to be deposited on a nearby Federation planet. He would survive, but he would not return to the Enterprise.

            Spock looked around himself and straightened, determined to remain dutiful and honor Vulcan ways even in the midst of such loss. “Everyone, return to your duties. Calculate Nero’s trajectory and figure when precisely he will be arriving at Celia. We must contact other members of the fleet. If our radio can reach them earlier, alert me, and we can make arrangements.”

            “Yes, sir,” said (Y/N), sitting down at their station. Their hands shook as they reached for their equipment, and they paused to breathe and compose themself. (Y/N) had to trust that Spock had a plan. They had to.

            Otherwise, the terror of losing Celia would overcome them.

l

            “Acting Captain Spock has marooned me on Delta Vega, what I believe to be a violation of security of security protocol 49.9, covering the treatment of prisoners aboard a starship,” grumbled Kirk into his communicator as he stomped through the snow of Delta Vega.

            A growl made him freeze and turned around. A large, hulking creature loomed over him and roared. Kirk let out a shout and stumbled back. A crack spread through the snow and ice, and a larger monster burst out. Kirk cried out as the first creature was easily killed and ran for his life. The second monster followed him. Kirk screamed and fell, sliding down a hill towards a cave. Jumping inside, he cowered as the monster pursued him.

            A figure stepped out of the shadow carrying a torch. The light and heat made the creature take a step back. The man waved the torch closer, scorching the monster. It ran away, leaving Kirk and the man on their home.

            Kirk raised his head, and the figure stepped closer. Kirk blinked. The man was tall, white-haired, brown-eyed, and had pointed ears.

            A Vulcan? wondered Kirk in shock.

            “James T. Kirk,” said the man.

            “Excuse me?” said Kirk, confused now.

            “How did you find us?” asked the man.

            “How do you know my name?” questioned Kirk.

            “I have been, and always shall be, your friend,” said the man profoundly.

            “You’re confusing him,” said another voice, and Kirk blinked as another figure stepped into the light.

            They were similarly bundled up against the cold, but instead of Vulcan features, they had striking gold eyes paired with their greying hair.

            “What…Who are you two?” asked Kirk.

            “I am Spock,” said the man.

            “I am (Y/N),” said the companion.

            “…Bullshit.”

l

            Despite his misgivings, Kirk didn’t have much of a choice and followed Spock Prime and (Y/N) Prime farther into the tunnel. They had fire; he needed warmth. Plus, if he was honest, Kirk couldn’t help but trust the pair—no matter who they were. They seemed to be telling the truth, though, which was strange enough.

            “It is remarkably pleasing to see you again, old friend,” said Spock Prime. “Especially after the events of today.”

            (Y/N) Prime reached out and touched Spock Prime’s arm in support. Spock Prime covered their hand in solemn thanks. Kirk’s eyes flicked to the rings on their fingers—one with a Vokaya stone and the other a blue one. He blinked in surprise, but he had no time to focus on that.

            “Listen, I, uh, appreciate what you did for me today, but if you were Spock you would know we’re not friends at all. You hate me. You marooned me here for mutiny,” said Kirk. He looked at (Y/N) Prime. “You…You act like (L/N).”

            “I should hope so,” said (Y/N) Prime wryly.

            “Mutiny?” repeated Spock Prime.

            “Uh, yeah,” said Kirk.

            “You’re not Captain?” asked (Y/N) Prime.

            “No, no. Um, you’re the Captain. Pike was taken hostage,” said Kirk.

            “This timeline has so many small changes,” murmured (Y/N) Prime, sighing.

            “This timeline?” repeated Kirk, thinking of what Spock had hypothesized. It sounded pretty convincing now that these two were acting so strange.

            “Pike was taken by Nero,” said Spock Prime, furrowing his brow.

            “What do you know about him?” asked Kirk, leaning in.

            “He is a particularly troubled Romulan,” said Spock Prime.

            “Not like Liviana at all,” said (Y/N) Prime, shaking their head.

            “I don’t understand,” said Kirk.

            “Please, allow me. It will be easier,” said Spock Prime, raising his hands towards Kirk’s temples.

            “Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” asked Kirk uneasily.

            “A mind meld will let Spock show you what he knows,” said (Y/N) Prime.

            They put a hand on his arm, and Kirk felt a wave of calm wash over him as (Y/N) Prime dampened his anxiety. He had never felt the power of empathic abilities before, and here it was. As he relaxed, Spock Prime put his fingers on Kirk’s temple.

            “Our minds. One and together,” said Spock Prime, and the world fell away before Kirk’s eyes to let him see Spock Prime and (Y/N) Prime’s dealings with Nero.

            “129 years from now, a star will explode and threaten to destroy the galaxy,” said (Y/N) Prime.

            “This is where we are from, Jim. The future,” said Spock Prime.

            “The star went supernova and consumed everything in its path,” said (Y/N) Prime.

            “I promised the Romulans that I would save their planet,” said Spock Prime.

            “I accompanied him to help,” said (Y/N) Prime.

            “We outfitted our fastest ship. Using red matter, we would create a black hole, which would absorb the exploding star.”

            “We were en route when disaster struck. The supernova destroyed Romulus before we could arrive.”

            “We had little time. We had to extract the red matter and shoot it into the supernova.”

            “As we began our return trip, we were intercepted.” (Y/N) Prime’s voice turned sorrowful.

            “He called himself Nero. The last the Romulan Empire,” said Spock Prime.

            “He was angry at our failure. He wanted to punish us,” said (Y/N) Prime, deeply understanding his pain.

            Nero had lost everything. He was rightfully upset. But what he had done after…it was unjust to take his pain out on others.

            “In our attempt to escape, all of us were pulled into the black hole,” explained Spock Prime. “Nero went through first. He arrived in this timeline first, twenty-five years ago.”

            The U.S.S. Kelvin incident, thought Kirk, and Spock Prime and (Y/N) Prime indicated their acknowledgement through the Mind Meld.

            “Nero spent the next twenty-five years awaiting our arrival,” continued (Y/N) Prime. “What was years to him was seconds to us due to the black hole.”

            “When we fell through the black hole, Nero was waiting for us,” said Spock. “He still held us responsible for the destruction of his home world. He captured our vessel and spared our lives for one reason—so that we would know his pain.”

            “He beamed us down here so we could watch his vengeance. He was helpless to save Romulans, and Spock was helpless to save Vulcan,” said (Y/N) Prime sorrowfully.

            “Billions of lives lost because of me, Jim. Because I failed,” said Spock Prime.

            The Mind Meld ended, and Kirk jerked back to reality. His chest heaved as tears ran down his face. Instantly, (Y/N) Prime’s empathy ran through him to steady him.

            “Forgive me. Emotional transference is an effect of the Mind Meld,” said Spock Prime. “I thought (Y/N) may be able to mitigate it, but it seems not.”

            “We’ve been through a lot, Spock. It’s alright,” said (Y/N) Prime gently.

            “So…you do feel?” Kirk took deep breaths.

            “Yes,” said Spock Prime, nodding. (Y/N) smiled softly and nodded.

            “Going back in time, you changed all our lives,” said Kirk, finally wrapping his head around him.

            “Jim, we must go. There is a Starfleet outpost not far from here,” said Spock Prime, rising.

            “We have to face Nero before he hurts more people,” said (Y/N) Prime. “His anger is a fire. He wants to burn everything.”

            “Wait,” said Kirk. “Where you came from…did I know my father?”

            Spock Prime nodded. “Yes. You often spoke of him as being your inspiration for joining Starfleet.”

            “He saw you become Captain of the Enterprise. He was proud,” said (Y/N) Prime.

            “Captain?” repeated Kirk.

            “Of a ship we must return you to as soon as possible,” said Spock Prime.

            “Let’s go, Jim,” said (Y/N) Prime.

l

            Far away from Delta Vega, the Enterprise was still flying towards the Laurentian system.

            “Warp three, sir,” said Sulu.

            “Course 1-5-1-Mark-3, Laurentian system, sir,” said Chekov.

            “Thank you, gentlemen,” said Spock from the Captain’s chair.

            “You wanted to see me?” said Bones, stepping onto the bridge.

            “Yes, Doctor.” Spock stood from his seat. “I am aware that James Kirk is a friend of yours. I recognize that supporting me as you did must have been difficult.”

            “Is that a thank you?” said Bones sarcastically.

            “I am simply acknowledging your difficulties,” said Spock.

            “Permission to speak freely, sir,” said Bones, and (Y/N) felt his emotions rise.

            This’ll be quite something, thought (Y/N).

            “I welcome it,” said Spock.

            “Do you?” Bones raised a brow and scoffed. “Okay, then.” He glared. “Are you out of your Vulcan mind?” Everyone on the bridge blinked and turned around in surprise. “ Are you making the logical choice, sending Kirk away? Probably, but the right one?” Bones scoffed. “You know, back home we got a saying, ‘If you’re gonna ride in the Kentucky Derby, you don’t leave your prize stallion in the stable.’ ”

            He’s definitely got guts, thought (Y/N).

            “A curious metaphor, Doctor, as a stallion must first be broken before it can reach its potential,” said Spock almost sarcastically.

            “My god, man. You could at least act like it was a hard decision,” retorted Bones.

            “I intend to assist in the effort to reestablish communication with Starfleet. However, if crew morale was better served by my roaming the halls weeping, I will gladly defer to your medical expertise,” said Spock sarcastically, cuttingly. “Excuse me.” He turned away to face (Y/N) and their station.

            “Green-blooded hobgoblin,” huffed Bones, stalking out of the bridge.

            “Spock, picking a fight with him won’t make you feel better,” murmured (Y/N).

            “…I apologize,” said Spock.

            “Tell that to him,” said (Y/N) sternly. They were laying all their trust into his intellect to save their planet. They didn’t have time for infighting.

            “I will help Celia, (Y/N),” said Spock quietly. “I will.” He couldn’t save Vulcan. he wouldn’t let Celia be destroyed.

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

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@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

@kyalov

@starlit-cass

[sams-spot-for-things]

Scar clasped his hands together, grinning downwards beside his chair. “Today’s a big day, Jellie!”

The cat just glared at him from her perch on the slightly elevated brick ground. She had been sleeping peacefully before Scar came rolling in hot with very earsplitting fireworks, which he had made a mental note to switch out for quieter ones. Jellies’ grumpy complexion explained more than she needed to with words (if she could explain herself, that is. But Scar was pretty sure she cursed him out often in kitty meowing language regardless.)

She seemed almost judgmental, almost as if… doubting his statement. In kitty angry-face speak. And sure, to on onlooker it very well may appear to be just her resting face, but to Scar? A challenge.

“Oh, come on!” Scar rolled his eyes, shifting the leftover fireworks in his arms, “I know what I’m doing! Trust me, this is- it will be big. And cool. You’ll eat your… look?”

Jellie stared at him. There was most definitely doubt there.

“Whatever! You’ll see! Follow me- ooh, that rhymed,” he added, mostly to himself- but Jellie still sniffed disdainfully and started her sassy walk alongside the road of Scarland with him.

Jellie strutted, Scar wheeled, and the two of them made their way down Mainstreet. Scar made sure to pause and gawk in awe at every little detail in the buildings they had created together.

(“Look, Jellie! Remember whenever I put that window in, and you climbed up and accidentally pawed me in the face because you hadn’t been fed yet?” Scar laughed, and Jellie purred, but truth be told- Scar still wasn’t sure to this day whether it was really as “accidental” as her big eyes had pleaded.)

The time flew from noon to afternoon then dusk, sun traveling across the sky with the two on their venture throughout the park. They had only just gotten halfway through Adventureland whenever Jellie started swatting at his pant leg.

“What is it now? You can’t be hungry yet, surely, we left the castle’s restaurant barely an hour ago!” He humored, unable to stop the warm smile that spread across his face as he picked his cat up and placed her on his lap.

And she just… stared at him. Jellie was long out of the morning’s unpleasant mood, but she now seemed… sad. And knowing.

Scar sighed. She was too clever for her own good. Scar knew he had made a mistake owning the smartest cat alive.

“Jellie, I know you recognize this time, or I guess this feeling- yes, it is the end of the season. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it earlier.”

Jellie’s head seemed to droop, if only a little. It kind of made Scar’s heart break.

“Hey, don’t get upset on me now! You didn’t let me finish.” He patted her head with one hand, and pulled out his comm with the other. He went to the server file, pressing buttons with his thumb quickly to not keep the curious Jellie in the corner of his eye waiting.

Scar pulled up the link, and showed her the screen. “X gave me the world download file early, Jellie.”

Jellie blinked at him with a head tilt, what Scar could only interpret as, “Meaning…?”

Scar started rubbing her head again. “It means we get Scarland, Jellie! We get to keep it! We still haven’t decided whenever the next season will start exactly, so we have plenty of time to relax there and build until then! Honestly, I’m not even stopping after the season starts. It’s too special.”

Jellie didn’t seem quite as thrilled as he had hoped. She eyed him up and down, tail waving lightly in unpredictable motions behind her, and then she turned to the side, towards the one and only goat’s Perimeter.

Scar frowned. He thought about Grian setting up shriekers under the coral flowerbeds in his base, and Jellie being mysteriously moved from that area of the park to the complete opposite whenever she had been supposedly napping. He thought about Cub coming by for a visit, and bringing her “Evil Version” for a playdate where Jellie had so much fun she knocked herself out. He thought about spotting Doc setting up wither skulls to fly above his grounds, but taking breaks to scratch under Jellie’s chin right where she likes it. Something you could only know if you have spent a lot of time with her.

Scar also thinks he finally understood.

“You’re going to miss them, aren’t you?” It was his turn to tilt his head to the side.

Jellie shifted her gaze from their neighbor, staring back at him. Scar’s expression softened.

“I will, too. But there’s always a great big beautiful tomorrow Jellie, don’t you ever forget that.” He leaned down, and gently gave her a kiss on the nose. Jellie let him.

“I love you.” He said, and he knew she would say it back if she could. But instead, she just looked at him in kitty happy-face speak. He was completely fine with that.

Scar pulled away to talk to her properly once more, leaning back in his wheelchair. “Come on, Jellie. The people of Scarland and friends are awaiting their queen.” He wiggled an eyebrow mischievously.

Jellie rolled her eyes- and okay, moment over, he got it. He was about to throw a silly retort whenever she head-butted him affectionately in the arm, and Scar was reminded of how neither of them could stay mad at each other for long (Scar because she was just too cute, and Jellie because he fed her.)

Later that night, most of the Hermits showed up to enjoy Scarland for the final time, while extra quiet fireworks lit up the sky in various cat-shapes in front of them. Jellie was the main center of attention, which of course she loved. Impulse and Mumbo reaching down to pet her, Grian and Pearl running wild with her in the streets, Cub sneaking treats to her when he thought Scar wasn’t looking, and Doc scratching under her chin. All of his days work of spotting tiny mistakes to enhance with Jellie had proved to show in his favor, as the park was spotless and gosh, Scar would never get over how beautiful it was at night.

How beautiful it was to see all of his friends standing here, in his park.

And perusing through the crowd, his gaze found Jellie’s- who’s met his- and they both stared at each other, no words needing to be said.

Well, maybe it wasn’t so much his park entirely, but he was okay with that.

And Scar grinned, knowing it had been a big day, and that whenever they were on their single-player Scarland world, he would get to tease Jellie all about how he had been right. But just for tonight, he would let her lay in his bed, sleeping easy and thinking she had won.

But that was the yet, and this was the now. So, Scar raised a glass up into the air, and made a toast to the best cat he could ever have, the one and only Jellie. And she stared at him with love.

[weirdcursedvaultkid]

hii!!! i’ve been following you for a long time now and i really love your art!! i’ve also been trying to learn how to draw so i was wandering if you’d have some advice for someone who’s completely new to this ??? pleek-

forgot to say this in the original ask, but of you have any tips on how to draw hair i’d thank you forever 😭 i’m really struggling with that

aw thanks! idk if im the best to ask for advice but hopefully you find any of this useful!

honestly it's really as simple as just drawing even if you think it looks bad don't get discouraged because it's all part of the process and you will get better when you are drawing on a regular basis. just look at the first drawings i had on here compared to my more recent stuff - the more you do it the better you'll get!

look for inspiration and references, its not cheating to use references as long as you are not straight up copying your reference 1 to 1. i like going on pinterest for inspiration especially for clothes! i also like to see what other artists are doing, instagram is also good for finding art inspo, i also found watching speed paints on youtube a good way of seeing how other people color and how to apply it to your own drawings

I'll talk more about what i do under the cut lol

for my process, i like to start off with a super messy sketch im talking chicken scratch. it's not supposed to look good its just supposed to give you a base for your drawing and allow you to figure out what you want to do.

then i start a new layer on top, lower the opacity of the initial sketch and i start drawing on top and refining everything so I have a cleaner sketch that's closer to the final drawing. this is usually where i finish figuring out the poses anatomy, hair, expressions, hands etc. it's still kind of messy but it'll feel more like you are filling in the blanks rather than starting from scratch

finally i do my lineart in another layer and for your lineart where you just make sure to keep your lines smooth and clean

Then i just do my base colors and shade, for this one i didn't really go all out with the shading so it may not be the best example lol, i just kept it simple which is ok! sometimes less is more it just depends how you want the final piece to look.

for hair specifically - i don't really have a tutorial, when i draw hair i just sketch out the shape i want the hair to have in the initial sketch, and then i had more detail when i clean up my sketch. I usually start by adding the strands that frame the face first or the hairline and then go out from there to the rest of the hair. I also don't draw every single strand, i tend to keep it more simple since i have a simple style

I found this tutorial on pinterest which pretty much how i go about it execpt i usually have a rough idea of the overall shape first and i don't go as detailed as the final result, i usually stop around the third step

i hope ANY of this was helpful and not too rambley! feel free to ask more if you have any more questions!

[amiscreations]

Seeing Def Leppard and Motley Crue at the Stadium Tour in Bramall Lane, Sheffield - 22/05/2023✨

Ok I’ll try and keep this as brief as possible, but I also want to include as many fun details as possible! also how has it been eXACTLY ONE WEEK since this happened aAAAH??? (from when I'm posting this at least)

Before the Show

So we started queuing at 8:30am, and we weren’t even the first people there! There was a group who had been queuing since 4am!

We immediately clicked with this group and we ended up becoming great friends, and they made the experience much more enjoyable!

I also had a few issues with my ticket, as I needed to print it but never got the chance (story for another day)  so I had to go down to the ticket office like three times😅

Just before we went in the nerves suddenly hit me: I HAD to get my spot that I’d queued 7 hours for.

As soon as I was let in I got the biggest adrenaline rush of my entire life, and although the staff were telling me not to run, I ran, and they didn’t stop me.

And I got a spot at the barrier with my friends! 

it was at this point that reality started to set in...

after 7 months of waiting for this very moment I was HERE 

Vivas came on after about 45 mins and they were AMAZING???

I was just looking at Tyler the entire time tbh bc he looks sO MUCH LIKE SAV ITS AAAAAA

also the lead singer was absolutely losing his mind at how big of a gig this was for them and I felt so happy! His joy was honestly infectious and I think they’re gonna do great things!

Mötley Crüe

After Vivas it was about a 30 min wait until Crüe, and every time we thought they had finished setting up the stage they added one more thing lmao

also Ryan was hanging around in the photo pit and he took our photo AWWW

I saw him the next day and he actually sent it to me, so now I have the very photo that Ryan Sebastyan himself took!

anyways the stage set up for Crue was just a little over the top imo perhaps to compensate whaaaat

they also had this extremely long opera(?) intro which just went on for way too long

and then they had that fuckin aLARM THING WHICH WAS SO LOUD

when the guys eventually did come on I will admit it was incredibly surreal... like tHAT is Nikki Sixx RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME??

Nikki was wearing the coolest jacket at first I want 23 of my own

Vince was uuuh Vince

like he wasn't terrible in person but listening back it is... not great

aNYWAY John 5 was actually so cool and fits in with them really well but he’s just not Mick Mars soz John

he also did this thing where he just drooled over the side of the podium?? like bro that was just so unnecessary JHGFGJK

also the music was just sO LOUD I found it hard to tell which some was which at first aND I WAS WEARING HEARING PROTECTION

at one point Nikki threw a bottle of Fiji Water and it landed right behind the security guard in front of me... I didn't want it😂

about midway through the set Nikki addressed the crowd and actually brought a kid up on stage and took a selfie with him which I thought was really cool!

Aaaand then Tommy addressed the crowd and asked women to show their tits�� and of course some did. oh Tommy 

then they played Home Sweet Home and let me tell you Tommy can sHRED on a piano

tbh the strippers (yes for those that dont know they have *female dancers* dancing on stage to some of the songs) were probably putting in the most effort out of anyone up there 

I think my favourite part was when they did the medley of covers, so Smokin’ in the Boy’s Room, Blitzkrieg Bop and Anarchy in the UK

they ended with Kickstart my Heart which was a lot of fun!

Def Leppard

it is TIMEEEE

there wasn't a long wait at all until leppard bc I think the show was a little behind schedule

but then when the countdown came on the screen it was the longest 6 mins of my life

and then Joe’s cover of Heroes came on and AAAAAAAH

THEN IT WAS THE INTRO TO TAKE WHAT YOU WANT

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

THERE THEY ARE DOING WHAT THEY DO BEST

it wasn't so much of a shock seeing them in person as I had seen them at the signing two days ago, BUT STILLL THATS THEMMMM

And Joe was wearing this soon to be ICONIC Union Jack blazer

Sav was wearing a polka-dot gradient suit (you know the one)

Phil and Viv were wearing THEE most gorgeous suits

Tho I'm kinda disappointed that Phil wasn't shirtless😪(jk)

And Rick in his sparkly tie dye shirt which I another thing I want 245 of

honestly the rest was a bit of a blur but in a good way!

I started losing my mind whenever they would come out onto the catwalk bc tHEY WERE SO CLOSE AND LOOKED ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL

aLSO they're recording the performance for a DVD (I think) so hopefully we will be able to watch back the pro shot version at some point!

also I hope I'm in it bc at one point they were in the photo pit pointing a camera directly at me BBFJKBFJK

oh also Ross Halfin was there I forgot to mention that LMAO

I think during Armageddon It something happened in the crowd behind me bc the security guards were standing on the barrier basically leaning tf on me as if to get a closer look at what was happening 

so yeah I missed the majority of that song LOL and I never did find out exactly what happened, although I did hear that someone got escorted out 

also just before Love Bites my phone died so I spent the first half of that song faffing about with my portable charger which thankfully charged your phone super fast

they also played Promises which for some reason caught me right off guard? it was so good tho and I didn't realise how hard it went until I heard it live!

and then it was the acoustic section which I was looking forward to the most (tho I honestly think it got cut short bc they only played like two songs and the show was behind schedule) bUT IT WAS STILL ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL

This Guitar is my fave off of DSH and hearing it live was just incredible

I love how you can just hear all their voices so well

aLSO IT WAS DEDICATED TO STEVE😭

Joe also said that Steve’s mum was in the audience and I think everyone in the stadium started to cry

and then it was Joe and Sav’s lil duet in When Love and Hate Collide which was so awwww

I can’t believe I actually got to hear Sav sing irl sOMEONE RESUSCITATE ME

anyways moving on, hearing a stadium sing “ROCKET, YEAHH!” is a religious experience I stg and its just something that cannot be replicated in a video

OMG HEARTBREAK AND SWITCH WENT SO HARD

the power that Phil and Viv held while walking out together onto the catwalk playing mf Switch 625

and then they started playing Hysteria and everyone started crying again

also they did the new alternate ending and if you weren't crying before you were then sorry I dont make the rules

The last song was Photograph ofc and thy put a bunch of photos from the leppard archives onto the screens🥺

they also put a bunch of photos that Ryan took of the crowd and tHE ONE WITH ME AND MY FRIENDS WAS UP THERE AAAAH

and just like that, Kings of the World started to play

I felt like my entire life had been leading up to those 90 mins 

it broke my heart to walk away from the spot I had queued 7+ hours for, but my head was now full of incredible memories

bring on Wembley!

[vy-tachibana]

Rough (and I mean rough no blending, colored outside the lines, etc) drawing that I refuse to actually finish by adding details or cleaning it up but figured I might as well share it

(Can you tell I did the bare minimum on the clothes just enough to make it distinctly Pomefiore?)

Name: Yasaymi Wayullu (Twisted from Yzma-Emperor’s New Groove)

Grade: Second-year

From the Scalding Sands

Has a childhood friend, Kunak Zumaraln (Twisted from Kronk) who is part of Savanaclaw (maybe he’s human, maybe he’s a chipmunk beastman idk haven’t decided)

Yes I know the animal Kronk talks to is Bucky the squirrel but he was “a Junior chipmunk”although that is his boy scout rank but liberties apply

May sketch him later idk

Would get along with Jamil because they both had to take care of people like servants and went vastly under appreciated, also from the same place

I reckon that Twisted!Kuzco (who’s a first-year at RSA) ‘s family is wealthy and frequently does business with Kalim’s family. That or maybe Kuzco’s family is a branch of the royal family? (What’s the scalding sands lore? Do they have a sultan or…?)

Side note: Twisted!Kuzco befriend third-year RSA student Twisted!Pacha

But this isn’t about them

Yasaymi is Vil’s favorite underclassman (sorry Epel) since he embraces and even enhances his feminine looks, gets good grades, has a talent for the fine arts, gets what needs to be done done

Honestly like a mini-Vil in a way

But is also just.

If Epel is a feral gremlin, Yasaymi is a free-range menace

His mottos are “if it doesn’t say you can’t then you can” and “everything’s free real estate as long as you don’t get caught”

Causes problems on purpose (takes joy in the fact that there’s no Twisted!Kuzco to take care of so all his repressed childhood inner beastie is unleashed upon Night Raven)

Is that student that doesn’t pay attention in class, crams/pulls an all-nighter the night before (much to Vil’s chagrin) and then aces the test the next day

“You should study in moderation every day so the information sinks into your brain. Not sleeping will ruin your complexion”

“It hasn’t failed me yet, senpai”

“That’s not the point-“

“If it’s not broke, don’t fix it 🤩”

Worst class is probably PE just cuz he doesn’t want to put in all that work and get sweaty

“Yeah but you can’t PROVE I’m not trying my hardest, that’s subjective”

“You’ve hardly worked up a sweat”

“But according to prior attempts, I’ve improved haven’t I? Data doesn’t lie, I must be doing something right to reach a new milestone. Aiming too high without a proper foundation could hurt me in the long-run”

(Totally planned and set the bar low from the beginning so that future goals set would be well within reach without needing to work for it. His stamina is actually really good, had to be to keep up with wrangling Twisted!Kuzco 25/8)

Best class is alchemy but also drives Crewel a little insane because he overcomplicates every recipe where they aren’t even recognizable methods.

Definition of getting the right answer with the wrong formula

“That’s not how you’re supposed to brew this potion. How did you even create this potion using a completely different ingredient make up and brewing method? That shouldn’t be possible”

If there’s anything you’ve taught me Teach, it’s that anything is possible if you put your mind to it :)”

Terrified people in that class because if something goes wrong who knows what kind of monstrosity he’d create

But as long as he’s turning in potions that complete the assignment, no one can say shit to him about it

Would enters into contracts with Azul and purposely breaches them just to mess with him

Of course the actual punishment would have to be reasonable enough for him to do it but Yasaymi is the name and malicious compliance is his game

“Why do I not have access to your unique magic? There’s no way you’re able to negate my own so just how?”

“Contract stated that I’d give you my most prized magical ability, not my unique magic. And what I believe MY most prized magical ability is my talent in potion-brewing”

“YOUR POTION BREWING DOESNT EVEN MAKE SENSE! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO USE SOMETHING I DONT UNDERSTAND”

“That’s rough, buddy”

“Yasaymi, these study guides I ordered you to make are worthless. You’ve barely put more than a single bullet point in some sections and even the facts aren’t even right”

“Hey I obey the letter of the law. You asked for study guides and I delivered. You should have specified that you wanted them to have correct information”

“You were supposed to place it on my desk”

“I did! It just happened that your desk magically relocated itself to the woods behind campus”

“…I asked you to sell these experimental samples at the festival….”

“Yep!”

“…and you returned with zero thaumarks to give me.”

“Well, I did sell them but then I saw this stand with some gorgeous hair accessories that I thought Rook-senpai and Vil-senpai would enjoy and remembered that you never said I couldn’t keep the thaumarks for my own use so I spent them.”

Azul eventually cuts his losses and rips up the contracts himself

“Hey Azul I need a favor, enter into another contract with me 👉👈🥺?”

“NoO”

“Pleeeeease?”

Just to tell me what you need. I’ll do it so just leave me alone, I beg of you. You’re going to ruin my business at this rate.”

All according to keikaku (Plan: long-con Azul into thinking he’d profit but constantly mess everything up for him, but knowing azul he’d be determined to not give up. I can wear him down though I bet, especially if losses outweigh the wins. Became so infamous that he’d dread even being near me which would let me ask him a favor and he’d do it for me for free. The marks of a true friendship. Doing things with no strings attached)

Every day Riddle thanks the Sevens that Yasaymi wasn’t sorted into Heartslabyul

Started the “Awareness” club. Whose main activity is working to raise member’s proficiency with sensing malignant intent around them, as well as being able to positively channel negative emotions to prevent overblot. A self-defense/self-help club.

Actually just a front for a pranking club as pulling tricks on students and faculty based on the premise of the club can be counted as activities supported by the school since it would for other people to “raise their own awareness of their surroundings”

Grim joins and Yuu is an unofficial member.

One of his cards duo magic is with Epel and the line is “Come little Apple, I shall show you the true art of how to get your way” “Let’s prank ‘em Senpai!”

His nickname is probably Miyu/Miyullu courtesy of Cater

I also imagine that when Lilia makes an extremely lethal dish, Silver calls in Yasaymi who has the confounding ability to turn Lilia’s batshit crazy recipes into something edible (and quite tasty)

[kingofbodyrolls]

Yeah I followed you! ✨

I saw you reblog a lot of Jimin fics—so it was honestly just a matter of time!

I’m blushing 🫣 Hahahah. I remember the Jungshook meme 🤣

Yay! I’m happy that you’re excited for my incoming Jimin fics! 🥹 It means a lot 💜 And I’m doing okay–I’m doing a lot better these days. This year has been really tough on me (with my mental health), but I’m gradually getting better. So it’s all good! I hope you’re doing good too, and please remember to take care of yourself! Exam season can be really stressful! So remember to drink plenty of water, relax, listen to music, read, take a break sometime and then study and ace your exams 💪

Yay! I added her other fics to my reading list too ✨

Oh you’re so welcome! 🫂 I love you, I love you, I love you 😘

Waaah don’t be shy! But I get it. I’m a shy one too—or I used to be lol, and now I just can’t shut up 🤣 Okay, I’m gonna give you my tips and some advice, not that you asked, but if you want to start writing here’s my thoughts:

Just write. Writing takes practice, and you never improve if you don’t write, and you never have the chance of writing something good if you never write.

Writing stuff down in your notes is a really good idea! Keep like a notebook (virtual or real (I have a real physical one, lol)), and then put all your ideas down. Find out which idea seems most exciting to you, and then try to develop on that.

Start writing a rough outline for a plot—or first, like is the plot/purpose? (not every writing has to have one, sometimes a story can be silly without a purpose too!). And then from there, you can gradually fold out the writing/plot. At least that's what I do—like plot; write first draft, then edit, write second draft and fix some more or done. Sometimes I don’t even write the second draft because I’m too lazy (🫣). And I know a lot of authors who don’t write plots down either. Like they just let the words flow!

Just let your thoughts and words flow. Try opening a blank paper and just empty your mind!

Doubting yourself is natural. Don’t be too hard on yourself, please 🫂 Everyone doubts themselves—I do too (and I do it quite often because I’m often insecure). 

You mention that you don’t know if you can write something detailed… it doesn’t have to be super detailed or anything! But here’s something that I think about when I’m writing and creating scenes: what can the character see? (visuals), what can the character smell (scents), what can the character feel (touch) and stuff like that. It makes it feel more immersive and easier for the reader to imagine what you’re writing. I’ve seen a lot of amazing writing guides and tips here on tumblr, and you could try looking at some of those if you want to write, but just writing without researching is also good!

No! Please don’t discard your ideas! 😭

Please do write all your ideas down. Maybe you don’t have time to write a full story yet, and that’s completely okay—but please don’t give up! 

Years ago… I gave up on writing for a long time. It’s been a passion of mine since I was like 9 lol. Anyway, I tried writing a book, never finished it though, and wrote a lot of fanfiction for another fandom… and I went 10 years without writing anything after that. Simply because I just gave up. Thought that no one would read, or like my writing. I doubted myself a lot. It wasn’t until last year where I said to myself ‘you know what lissa? You have to try and finish something. Not for anyone, but for yourself’ and that’s why I began writing again. Also, it’s just therapeutic for me. I have a lot of old ideas saved (like some of them are 10+ years old) and maybe I’ll write them now, maybe someday, maybe never. But having them saved means I can decide if I want to write them. If I didn’t save them, I’d probably have forgotten my idea 10 years later.

Now I’m rambling, lol. And please, you can always ramble! 🥹 I love it!!!

And you’re not too noisy, please don’t say stuff like that 😭

Waaaaaahh 😭🤧 Thank you so much for your kind words! Calling me talented? You’re so sweet too! Thank you so much and don’t forget to love yourself too, and please don’t give up on writing if that’s something you want to do 💜

lissa i just daw your feedback at “almost romantic” I JUST ADDED THAT TO MY READING LIST btw i saw it on your jimin recs so i added it and plan to read it soon i saw your feedback WTH😭 now im excited to read it but im going to review for my exam wish me luck !🤞🏻 ilysm i always check your acc for updates though i got it notified more jimin recs pls !

(hobi is cute here i love him)

Wait…You have notifs on for me? 😭

Waah sometimes I post so much I hope you don’t feel like I’m spamming! 

And I always love me some Jimin 🤤 There’s more Jimin fics coming (a few on my own, and then I still have a massive reading list to dive into).

YEAH! Almost Romantic by @kookiewithluv was just so fucking good! Highly recommend ✨ Amazing read! I hope you enjoy reading it when you’re done with your exam 🫂

AND you can do it babe!!! I wish you good luck with your exam! FIGHTING!! You can do it!!! 💜

Waaaah I love you so much too and you flatter me too much you’re going to make me cry 🤧

All the best, and lots of luck for your exam 🫂🥰

Oh and Hobi is just the cutest 😭 He’s my sun 💖

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, so you know “Justice League meets Batman’s kids, who they’d previously been unaware existed” AUs?

So picture that.....but this time, instead of them just having no knowledge of any of these other Gotham vigilantes at all....the Batkids all migrate to various cities as they get older and become known as their protectors - Dick in Bludhaven, Tim in San Francisco, Cass in Hong Kong, etc....

Meaning they’re all established figures, the Justice League are aware of them as solo local heroes who stick to their cities and so they just don’t interact with them much if at all, or else some are members of team lineups but are particularly vague about their histories or life outside of the team’s adventures....

So the big reveal isn’t that they become aware of all these other Gotham vigilantes all at once....its that some big conflict or whatever requires a huge team up of all available heroes, and in the aftermath, they figure out that like.....despite being known as solo heroes who work alone or loners outside of their team settings, 80% of these heroes all not only seem to already know each other, they seem to be related.

And so naturally they all turn to Batman, who has profiles on every known hero and they thus figure had researched these individuals too and just never mentioned this little detail, and they’re like, “Did you know about this?”

And then Nightwing turns to him too, arms crossed and is like, “Yeah Dad, did you know about this?”

And the infamous Red Hood is all: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never met any of these people before in my life. Lives? Whatever.”

And then Red Robin moodily grates out “I have no siblings.” Since he’s nursing a grudge since Dick and Jason broke into his apartment the night before and replaced all his custom Red Robin gear with Darkwing Duck merchandise and his vengeance will be swift and also totally disproportionate because things escalate quickly in this family, that’s true in every universe.

Cass meanwhile has deftly skewered Jason’s lie by walking over to him and brazenly patting down the man with many many guns with no fear whatsoever. He squawks and futilely attempts to bat her hands away as she riffles through his many pockets, but he doesn’t seem shocked, just annoyed. Eventually, she pulls away and triumphantly reveals a box of Hello Kitty themed band-aids.

“So these are yours then? Just for you?” Black Bat asks smugly. Red Hood squints at the box.

“What the fuck? How long have those been in my jacket? Why are those in my jacket? Did you freaking plant them in my jacket just on the offchance you could at some point in the distant future use them at my expense?”

Black Bat frowns, puzzled. “Yes?”

“Oh come on, Dead Hood,” Spoiler says with an exaggerated toss of her head meant to convey she’s rolling her eyes beneath her own mask. She skips her way across the room to Black Bat and then drapes herself languidly all over the smaller woman. Who in turn doesn’t so much as twitch beneath the sudden added mass as Spoiler holds out her hand towards the box of band-aids. 

“One please. I have a boo-boo,” she says with easy familiarity straight into the intimidating cowl of Black Bat. Only then does she deign to finish her train of thought with Red Hood.

“I mean seriously, are you saying you don’t have potential blackmail set-ups, pre-rigged releases of incriminating material, and a random assortment of traps, pratfalls and mortifying scenarios in place for the express purpose of being able to humiliate any and all of your siblings at any given moment, without any need for additional prep time?”

“Is this true, Little Wing?” Nightwing whirls on the larger Red Hood with a faux-scandalized gasp. The founder and leader of the Titans, formerly the Teen Titans, renowned for his stratagems and calm competence when directing squads of supers in the heat of battle while he keeps pace with nothing more than naturally acquired acrobatics and a utility belt that apparently uses the same technology as Wonder Woman’s invisible jet....now appears to be....staggering with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead, moaning about how he felt....faint? 

What is happening right now, several dozen superheroes want to know. Is this a drill? Are they supposed to be checking for signs of a mental ambush from undetected psychic saboteurs? Did they all hit their heads at the exact same time and are now experiencing some kind of shared mass concussion?

Look, that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen on the Watchtower. 

“Have I failed you so utterly?” The veteran child hero bemoans with a dramatic twirl - that when contrasted with his stern demeanor of a mere ten minutes ago - makes the fears of telepathic infiltration seem less paranoia and more....concerningly probable. “Did you learn nothing from me? Did you learn nothing from B?”

He stops and jabs a finger up at the sky. “Quick, everyone! What is the very first rule of Living While Batty?”

As if by rote, over a half a dozen voices chime in from all over the room, causing various heroes to jump. Spooked by yet more and more vigilantes joining in some kind of mass recitation like they and they alone have some kind of clue what the hell is going on and everyone else just hadn’t been invited to the party. Which is just rude, honestly. Nobody likes feeling like they weren’t invited to the party. Not even superheroes. 

“If you’re not going to bother preparing for every possible contingency and at least six impossible ones, you might as well just stay in bed.”

Even the Red Hood joins in the Illuminati chant or Cub Scout pledge or demonic ritual or whatever the fuck that just was, though his slumped and exasperated posture gives away every hint of sulkiness his headgear otherwise would have kept safely hidden. He’s surprisingly more...expressive, than most who’d only known of him by reputation had expected him to be. The day continues to yield surprises.

“Of fucking course I do,” he growls out, snatching the box from Black Bat. She doesn’t even fight to hold onto it, just lets it go with a knowing smirk. “I wasn’t surprised by the idea of it, I was just surprised she bothered with such a weak effort. Like yeah whatever, actually those could be mine. I use those all the time at home. So what?”

He aggressively yanks one of the band-aids out of the box, fumbles with the peel-off strips with one hand and he roughly rolls up the sleeve of his jacket with the other. Then just slaps it on his forearm and raises said appendage high, showing it off this way and that. “See?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Signal drawls from the other side of the room, nodding his head approvingly. “Totally convincing. Nice job walking that one back, you really showed them.”

Red Hood’s head snaps in his direction with ominous intent. “Watch it, Day-Glo.”

Signal just snorts.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna take constructive criticism on my name and costume from a dude who’s spent the last several years calling himself Red HOOD while running around in a freaking HELMET.”

“Its not meant to be literal, you fucking pedant.”

“So wait, its not literally a helmet? Huh, does it at least protect your head literally, or just like...symbolically? Like if Bane were to clock you across the head, would your concussion just be a metaphor? What’s the treatment protocol for a metaphorical concussion? Fluids, bedrest and a philosophical prescription of two chapters of Chicken Soup for the Soul as needed?”

“Laugh it up, KC and the Sunshine Band,” Red Hood bats back. “You just got yourself disinvited from Thursday night’s poker game.”

Signal just grins and folds his arms over his chest cockily. “Please. You’ve been looking for an excuse to ban me for weeks, cuz you know until you can prove I’m using my ghost vision to cheat, you can’t actually bring suit against me for it in Family Court.”

“That, and also Family Court isn’t a real thing, you toddler. Stop validating Wing-a-ding-ding’s obsession with Shitty TV Nostalgia and just call it that thing where Oracle traps us all in a room until we settle our latest fight without anyone getting stabbed.”

“Yeah, but like, say that five times fast,” Spoiler pipes up. “Its just not practical. Family Court’s way easier.”

“Says the one who’s not even in our fucking family.”

“And yet I grace you all with my sublime presence anyway,” she blows a kiss at him, beatifically unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

The Red Hood scoffs and rounds on his heel, zeroing in on Batwoman in the far corner.

“Hey Auntie B, my siblings are all dead to me and I just helped stop an alien invasion so I deserve nice things like a fun Saturday night. Can you get me into Dad’s fundraiser so I can crash it? He won’t put me back on the list until I promise not to bring any C-4 with me and I won’t promise not to bring any C-4 because he should just trust me that I won’t when I say I’m not gonna and he won’t trust me that I won’t until I admit I shouldn’t have brought any to that sting last month where three tiny little yachts blew up through barely any fault of my own, and I’m just not gonna do that ever because I have convictions and I feel I shouldn’t have to be punished for that. Y’know?”

Batwoman blinks at him. “Kid, I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re my nephew and I love you, but I stopped listening three seconds into all that.”

“Ugh, fine. Can you help me crash Dad’s event tonight so I can teach him a lesson about why he should just trust me not to make a scene so I don’t have to always make a scene to make a point.”

“Tempting as you make that sound,” she says wryly, “I have a strict policy for dealing with you lot and your......everything. I only worry about tolerating one of you at a time, and there’s seven of you, and seven days in the week. You each get your own. You know perfectly well its Robin’s day today. You get me on Tuesday, just like always.”

“Auntie B, we’re not like other families, are we?” Red Robin’s delivery is sarcastically childish and his question clearly rhetorical. Most of his attention is fixated on whatever it is he’s doing with his wrist-mounted computer. 

“No sweetie, we’re all severely fucked in the head and a little bit too comfortable with that.”

“Just checking. Oh hey, Hood, I just emailed you a patch for the hole in your firewall I exploited when replacing all my shit using your accounts just now.”

“You did what?”

“Used your accounts to pay to replace all my stuff that you fucked with last night?” Red Robin says slowly. “Did you not realize that I’ve been sticking within ten feet of you for the past five minutes just so I could clone your devices and do all that while BB and Spoiler kept you distracted? I gotta say, bro, I feel like that’s on you then.”

Red Hood swivels his helmeted head in the direction of the aforementioned two. Black Bat waves. Spoiler shoots him an utterly unrepentant thumbs up.

“You’d side with your ex over me? That’s what its come to?”

“My only allegiance is to chaos,” Spoiler says brightly. Black Bat shrugs.

“Plus he bribes better.”

“Hateful,” Red Hood points at Black Bat, moving on to level the same finger at Spoiler, who curtsies in acknowledgment: “Hateful-er.”

Then the finger rounds the bases to aim judgmentally at Red Robin. “Hateful-est. And that was all Nightwing’s idea anyway, not mine.”

“Oh, I assumed as much,” he says casually. “Your idea of a prank tends to have more of a Carrie vibe. Or be a literal literary reenactment.”

“Its called an homage, 4chan.”

“Whatever, plagiarist. And anyway, I couldn’t go after ‘Wing for payback on this one. He used an Immunity card. If you didn’t want me getting back at you, you should have used one too."

Red Hood looms aggressively. Red Robin ignores willfully. Round and round they go. Superheroes who can survive excessive G-Forces are getting dizzy just watching them have a largely motionless stand-off. That shouldn’t be how that works, but whatever. All the most infamously reclusive and isolated heroes in all hero-dom are apparently part of the same one big reclusive and isolated family of fucked up weirdos and they’re all officially bonkers. Nothing makes sense anymore. Reality broke. Try another stall.

“Okay, but see, in order to have an Immunity card, I would have to participate in one of you losers’ stupid Immunity challenges,” the Red Hood drags out with exaggerated patience. “And I’m just not going to do that, on account of those all being fucking stupid. You see the problem there?”

Red Robin just shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, bro. You can have principles or you can have an Immunity card. You can’t have both.”

Meanwhile, on another side of....the same room.....look, its like, an octagonal room, probably. It has a lot of sides. Robin fends off questions from an aggrieved looking Superboy.

“You never told me you had a bajillion brothers and sisters!”

“Yes but I never said I didn’t either.”

Superboy rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, so I should just assume everyone I meet has a bajillion secret brothers and sisters?”

“Well clearly it would have worked out in your favor in this instance if you had, now wouldn’t it?”

“Assuming of course that you can trust what has been said or implied here today and I am actually related to any of those numbskulls. Which I am not actually admitting to,” Robin tacks on hastily.

Superboy eyes him dubiously. “You joined in the same creepy chant all the others did and then got super self-conscious and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Which uh. I did.”

“First off, your interpretation of body language is abyssmal. I do not get self-conscious,” Robin says with a delivery that probably could have benefited from being a little less self-conscious. “And second....that proves nothing. I guessed what they were going to say.”

“Word for word,” Superboy says super-skeptically.

“I’m very good at guessing things. You know this.”

“Okay. Guess how much I believe you right now then.”

Robin glares and folds his arms grumpily across his chest. 

“And what was that anyway? Was that like....you guys’ family motto or something like that?”

“Oh no,” Spoiler pipes up. “That’s much shorter.”

Superboy balks at that. “Wait, you guys actually have one of those for real?”

“Yup,” Steph says, counting out the words with her fingers. “He who laughs last....probably works for the Joker. So tranq him just to be safe. See? Only sixteen words. The first rule of Living While Batty is way longer, and what we said was just the abridged version. You should hear the original, before Black Bat put her foot down and refused to memorize it unless sizable edits were made.”

Superboy hovers between her and Robin now, both in mid-air and on the verge of taking Spoiler’s words as an invitation to hear just that. A low growl arises from Robin’s direction.

“Must you?” He asks the older vigilante, with a most put upon expression.

She looks at him pityingly. “Do you actually need me to answer that? Like, we’ve met, right? Hi, I’m Spoiler.”

“Wait, so Robin said that I just never specifically asked him if he had a bajillion brothers and sisters, and that’s why he didn’t tell me, so that means he wouldn’t have just lied and there’s not some code of secrecy that flat out forbids telling other people stuff, right?” Superboy realizes excitedly.

“Yes, excellent direction. Go on,” Spoiler says, steepling her fingers. Robin buries his face in the palm of one hand.

“Soooo, what other stuff could you tell me about Robin’s super top secret family that I wouldn’t think to ask about but that he would tell me about if I knew what questions to ask?”

She claps once, lightly but with emphasis. “Well done. You’ve passed the first barrier. Untold secrets await you behind just a few more.”

“I’ll get you for this,” Robin vows calmly. She waves a hand at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you do it before January 1st, remember? You’ve promised retribution like ten times already this year and those don’t roll over, y’know. Rules are rules.”

“Enough!” Thunders a voice then, from the front of the room. Well one of the fronts anyway. Like sides, it has a lot of them, but this is the one where Batman’s standing. All eyes snap to him. Which is kinda just what eyes do when Batman says stuff like that. Its like his superpower, except he doesn’t actually have superpowers, which is what makes it scary. But where the snapping of the eyes (directional) is usually followed by Batman saying something else besides just “hey look at me,” here he pauses in the wake of his own call to attention’s waning reverberations. Uncharacteristically silent.

Not that, y’know, he’s normally Mr. Talkity Talk, but usually his silences feel like he has the words to fill them, he’s just withholding them. This though, this feels more like he doesn’t have any words at all. And he’s as confused by it as any of them, and most everyone else is confused by Batman being confused, and its this whole trickle down economy of confusion and its wrecking havoc on the value of the golden silence standard.

Of course, not everyone present is rendered spellbound with confusion.

“C’mon B,” Nightwing cajoles, leaning forward and practically radiating delight. “I think you know what you have to do now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Its not likely to come around again.”

Red Hood snickers beneath his helmet and chimes in. “Yeah Pops, go ahead. You do this and you’ll actually have my respect for a whole twenty four hours. No, wait. Sixteen. No! Eight. Yeah, eight. Still a good deal.”

“Carpe diem, B,” Red Robin grins, leaning back as if to enjoy the show.

“Hey! Infringe on my trademark one more time, dude,” Signal throws a faux-glare at the former. Red Robin just quirks an eyebrow.

“And what, you’ll start saying Yum every time you eat a burger? Oh no. I’m hoist by my own petard.”

Signal flips him off with a grin and then redirects his attention back to Batman. “Yeah seriously though B, you kinda gotta do it now. Because if you don’t do it, then you’ll forever be the guy who didn’t do it, and you don’t want to be that guy, do you?”

“Yeah you really don’t want to be that guy,” Spoiler shouts out. “Nobody likes that guy. He’s the worst.”

“Do it, do it,” Black Bat starts chanting beside her, steadily picking up speed and volume. Several others start joining in. Even Robin appears to be slightly anticipatory, albeit trying very hard to hide it.

Batman sighs, and somehow everyone manages to hear it. Stills. Waits for....something? Nobody but them seems to have any clue what, but the air is thick and heavy with portentiousness. Something is about to happen, and all most of the heroes present could say for sure is it was something they never would have in a million years seen coming.

Finally, Batman straightens with the resigned air of a man about to have oh so many regrets. He crosses his arms, shakes his head, and in an absolute deadpan monotone, says:

“You are awful children. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing your father.”

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

Shifted - The Plan (Chapter 1/?)

A/N: This is my Secret Santa gift for @jensengirl83 for @spnfanficpond's Secret Santa Fic Exchange! This is just Part 1 and I honestly don't know how many parts there will be or how often I'll get to post them. I have goals, but we'll see if I meet them. Anyway, Brandy mentioned in her list of wishes, "established relationship, fake dating, [that sort of thing]," and my brain did what it always does and became that girl from the taco ads. "Why not both?" I hope this makes you smile in spite of what I've done!

A/N2: This is not beta read by anyone, but both @torn-and-frayed and @katbratsupernaturalwhore have helped with brainstorming for this one!!

Summary: The Winchesters are meeting your family for the first time when you all visit for Christmas. Things don't go quite to plan.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word count: 1354 words in this part.

Warnings: So far, nothing. This will be updated as I go, though, if anything crops up. I'm posting as I write, for the first time EVER, so I can only say I hope this will be more fluff/crack than anything else.

Nerves fluttered in your belly as you directed Dean through your old neighborhood to your childhood home. Maybe the holidays weren’t the best time for your family to meet your boyfriend for the first time, but hunts had been keeping you away since you’d joined the Winchesters. Your parents didn’t know what you did, and you wanted to keep it that way so they wouldn’t worry about you. As far as they knew, you and the boys were private investigators, with the boys doing the more dangerous cases and you finding lost relatives and cheating spouses. Your family had no idea that you’d decapitated a vampire just the other day.

Sitting forward in the back seat so your head was almost in line with the brothers’, you tapped an erratic beat into Baby’s leather while you noted the changes since you’d been in town last.

“Honey?” Dean said to prod you out of your worried thoughts, “want me to turn on some music so you have a beat, or do you prefer the whacky drum solo you’ve got going on?”

Reflexively stilling your fingers by curling your hands into fists, you gulped and mumbled an apology. “Sorry. Just nervous. I’m not good at lying to my parents and my sister. I’m taking bets in my own head about how long into the weekend we’ll make it before they figure out I’m lying about almost everything.”

Sam turned back in his seat to look at you. “Hey, don’t stress about it too much or it will just get worse. Remember, keep the lies honest and—”

“—the extra details to a minimum,” you finished with him. Sam had been helping you get past your mile-wide honest streak so you could present yourself as an FBI agent without giving everything away in the first conversation with local law enforcement. Dean had always found subterfuge in those cases easy, but it was hard for you. Sam had taken you under his wing and coached you on how to improve without feeling like you were doing something bad. “I know, Obi-wan. But this is my family. They know all of my tells! I never got away with anything growing up! And they’re going to be judging how Dean and I are with each other to make sure we’re happy and everything, so anything that makes them doubt me will blow up in Dean’s face. And I like Dean’s face!” Giving Sam a playful smirk, you said, “It makes up for his hair!”

Dean’s injured outcry mingled with Sam’s laugh and your gigglesnort. “Since when are long, flowing locks a good idea in our profession, huh? My hair makes way more sense than Sam’s ridiculous mop.” He pouted in such a way that you knew he wasn’t hurt, but glad that you were able to joke around through your nerves.

Baby pulled onto the street where you grew up and into your parents’ driveway as you extolled the virtues of longer hair on men. “Yeah, but it’s nice to have something to hold onto sometimes, you know?” You winked as Dean glanced back at you and rolled his eyes with a smile while Sam groaned.

“I don’t need to know about what you guys do during your private time!” With a wave of his hand, he shifted away from you and Dean and looked out the window at the big house looming above the car. “Wow. Big house!”

“Yeah, it’s been in the family for generations. The taxes are hell. Anyway, there’s plenty of room for all of us.”

Just then, as Dean turned off the ignition, the door opened and your sister came out carrying a big box followed by your parents with more boxes and bags, heading to the garage. A million feelings swelled in your chest and made you smile. It had been a while, and you were happy to see your family again, in spite of your fears.

“Oh, shit,” Dean swore, looking at your family.

Your eyes nearly bugging out in worry, you looked at your boyfriend with panic. “What? What shit? No shit! There can’t be shit! What shit could there be? What shit, Dean???”

The panic on Dean’s face only made yours worse. “I think I met your sister before. Long story short, a while back, before we met you, a shifter decided to see how much tail Dean Winchester actually gets. He hit on a girl while wearing my face, went back to her place with her, and they started making out. I followed them, of course, looking for a chance to take him out and save her. She got a little too frisky, clawed him a little too roughly, and got an extra handful she didn’t want, because, you know, shifters shed. As she freaked out, he tried to calm her down, and when it didn’t work, he hit her. That’s when I busted in, grabbed him, dragged him out, and never looked back. I have no idea if she saw me clearly enough to know that I looked just like him. Who knows what she’ll think when she sees me!!”

Both you and Sam were staring at Dean, now, with jaws dropped, only half words coming out of your mouths. It took a couple of seconds for your brain to fully comprehend what Dean was saying.

“You mean, my sister thinks she picked you up in a bar, took you home, literally scratched your skin off, and then you were dragged off by your twin brother?

Your family was now exiting the garage, chatting amiably about something you couldn’t hear while you sat in Baby, trying to reconcile everything Dean was saying. Panic flooded your system.

“Yeah?” Dean answered though he sounded nervous and unsure. “She won’t hold it against me and tell your parents and make life difficult for us, will she?”

You turned on your boyfriend with panic in your eyes. “Of course, she will!! I’m her little sister, and you’re a douchebag with a skin condition!!! She’s going to rip you apart! Considering what she thinks she knows about your skin condition, she may try to actually rip you apart, thinking she can!”

Dean paled, while Sam focused on your family quickly approaching the car.

“Okay, so we’re just going to have to explain everything to at least your sister. Monsters, hunting, shifters, everything,” Sam said. “Maybe we can get your sister alone before she blows everything up to your parents.”

As Sam spoke, your sister stalled halfway across the driveway, staring at Dean. Your parents stopped walking a step later, turning back to see what had stopped your sister. Tracy gestured at Dean and said a few words, which was enough for your parents to stiffen up.

“Yeah, too late for that, I think,” you said, despair overtaking your panic. Your parents would never understand your need to hunt monsters. That was assuming they’d even accept that monsters exist and not throw you in the nuthouse immediately.

Half a second passed before Dean spoke up. “New plan: Sam, you’re Y/N’s boyfriend. I’m the shitheel brother who may or not be rapey. They won’t accept me as your boyfriend, but you can’t choose your boyfriend’s brother. I’ll figure out a story to apologize to your sister, get her to think I just look like the guy but I’m not the guy, or maybe that I’m the hero and not the molting rapist, so they at least don’t call the cops.”

Sam made a weird choking noise in chorus with an unusual whimper that came out of your mouth. But there was no time to argue. Your family was now standing outside the car and Dean was opening his door to get out. This was the worst plan, ever. Explaining that monsters were real would be faster and easier than this. But Dean was already out of the car, heading to the trunk to get your bags. You and Sam looked at each other with wide eyes but silently agreed that there was nothing you could do at this point but go along with the plan.

Part 2

Ye olde forever tags list: @datfandombitch @manawhaat @sammit-janet @littlegreenplasticsoldier @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @iwantthedean @growningupgeek @feelmyroarrrr @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @chelsea072498 @helvonasche @rizlowwritessortof @wheresthekillswitch @sandlee44 @icequeen1371 @tistai @pie-and-pudding @thelittleredwhocould @supernaturallymarvellous @ellen-reincarnated1967 @notnaturalanahi @salt-n-burn-em-all @fumar-et-flores @chalicia @smalltowndivaj @littlefreakingfangirl @straightestgay-voice @percywinchester27 @vanessa-monique-blog @lynn1712 @gallxntdean @antares1980 @hunterpuff @beffyblueeyes-blog @sammiesamness @cassieraider @emoryhemsworth @speakinvain @andkatiethings @latetothewinchesterparty @winchesterprincessbride @drakelover78 @calaofnoldor @idreamofplaid @akshi8278

[moonchildsaurora]

Time of Our Lives

✤ collab with my Moon Queen @hereisleo​ ✤ undercover agent!Woo x female undercover agent!reader   ✤ genre: Spy AU // action, chaotic fluff, inconvenient love confessions ✤ t/w: sfw, rated M, contains: swearing, mentions of guns & death ✤ count: 1.4k+

a/n - WELL DAMN. I’M BACK! It’s been a hot minute in this ghost town of a blog huh? After being stuck in the writers block for quite sometime, I’ve finally crawled out of that void. This piece was actually written...a year ago, something fun I wanted to try and roped my other half of Tea4Two into an impromptu blurb night. I started it and Leo finished it! Honestly, feels refreshing being able to write once more after months. Please enjoy & let us know your thoughts 💙

And it was in that moment, you knew, he fucked up.

All those weeks of planning went right out the window. The onslaught of bullets didn’t have to take you and your reputation out, when your partner was doing such a fine job of that. Two of Headquarters’ best agents messing up one of the most classified operation on the board – over a damn Alexandre Vauthier gown.  

You threw a side glare towards the man who was currently reloading his gun beside you. Head reeling from all that happened within the span of the few minutes that just passed.

This was a mess you definitely, did not see coming.  

“You look ridiculous in that!”

Were you personally offended by that comment?

Yes.

On the contrary, you felt like city royalty in lavish shiraz velvet. Unfortunately it proved to be too much for Jung Wooyoung to handle, if his erratic mood spoke otherwise over the days leading up to this assignment.

You been through the strategy so many times over you could recite every detail in your sleep. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into, and so did Agent Jung.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it. Not one bit.

Wooyoung thought you looked ridiculous alright, ridiculously gorgeous. So when he saw you enter the hotel’s lounge bar from his corner, the bourbon went straight down the wrong pipe.  

The slit of the gown was a sinful display of leg and don’t even get Wooyoung started on that equally sinful plunging neckline. All hope was on that single waist belt, holding the entire outfit together.

“You alright there?” asked the bartender, patting Wooyoung on his back as he coughed through the stinging liquor. He managed a thumbs up by the end.

If you had heard him coughing his lungs out as you walked past the bar, the poker face you wore proved to be impeccable. A low whistle was heard as just as you disappeared behind the conference room doors.

“Well, ain’t the Chairman lucky today?”

The bartender mistook Wooyoung’s unimpressed expression for a cue to further elaborate, “The Chairman loves women with class and sophistication.”

A vein popped, or perhaps it was his knuckles cracking.

“A sight for sore eyes is an added bonus.”

You weren’t there to provide favours of any kind. You were there to take down this nefarious narcissist of a scumbag who’s sat far too long at the top, bleeding hard-working corporations dry to fund his own personal gain and allowed corruption to run wild. So how very rude of these ignorant bystanders to insinuate such things about you.

His habitual reaction to bite back was interrupted by the soothing tone of your voice coming through his in-ear. You played the role of the pseudo informant extremely well, dropping light flirtatious remarks to lure the Chairman in lowering his guard down.

It was all acting, this was pre-planned – Wooyoung kept telling himself.

“I must say, I wasn’t expecting such a gem to be the one liaising on the other end of this deal. Come accompany me to the penthouse once this is over…I’ve some wine imported from Italy we could try and sheets to keep us warm my dear.”

Absolutely not.

“Fuck this.”

The glass slammed down on the counter top. “Excuse me sir? Where are you going?”

“Gonna get my lady, I’d suggest you clear out right now!”

To hell with this game play. The rest of the squad were already stationed outside, awaiting orders. Pistol cocked and loaded, Wooyoung did not hesitate to set the fire alarm off. It blared throughout the complex sending patrons and hotel staff alike into a frenzy.

Either way, the Chairman was going down. Preferably with a bullet or two to the head after what he tried to pull on you.

“HANDS OFF YOU FILTH!” roared Wooyoung, kicking the doors down and aiming at his target.

Wooyoung didn’t even register your exasperated shouting of his name before the Chairman gave the signal for the bodyguards to bring the rain.

You had tossed your new pair of silver heels aside, opting to dodge and roll in bare feet so as to not lose balance. How those were sadly broken already and your damned gown was still intact, baffled you.

“You better have a fucking good explanation for this! And you owe me a new pair!” you hissed at Wooyoung.

He took a quick shot around the corner of the couch and managed to pick off another bodyguard.

“Look, the guy is rotten to the core and I’m just speeding up the process where he’s done and dusted.”

Another shot, another body drop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you as many new pair of shoes as you want once this is all over. And on that note, would you let me take you out for coffee too?”

Your hard stare was met with Wooyoung’s toothy grin.  

The fucking audacity.

You gave credits where it was due but he was something else. Jung Wooyoung shouldn’t affect you this much and yet, he did. He didn’t flinch when you raised your gun towards him, there was implicit trust that you weren’t going to use him as target practice. The goon who tried to sneak aim at him fell to the floor, joining with the party of cooling bodies.

“You owe me a pair of heels…and coffee!” you bit out. Wooyoung let out a whoop of excitement which turned into a groan when you continued, “And you’re telling Boss what happened today.”

“Okay, hear me out, I didn’t mean it in a bad way when I said you looked ridiculous…” he said as both of you tucked your heads down when shots were fired near your hiding place. “You look ridiculously gorgeous and I can’t stand the thought of that sleazy bastard pawing you.”

It may have been the odd tug of your heart strings, or even the unwavering determination steeled into his eyes that did not shy from your gaze. For once instead of running from honesty, perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea to give into it. Now that it confirmed Wooyoung was on the same page as you were.    

You never did claim you were good at planning either. And so, among the mess of bullets and broken glass, a single chaste kiss was shared. Too fleeting for your liking but sweet enough to placate two hearts, for now.

“Thank you,” and you meant it. Fingers fondly caressing the sides of his sculptured jawline.

Then the flick to his forehead brought him out of his love-drunk daze and back to reality.

Wrong time for a confession but with life as undercover agents, wrong time was also the right time. It still did not excuse the fact that you were pissed at him for cocking up the mission but –  

“We could be like Mr. and Mrs. Jung.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself!”

He chuckled and swooped down to steal another kiss. You could get used to this.

“Do you know you look hot when you’re angry?”

If you had your heels, you would have thrown it at his head. Alas, you didn’t have the chance to do so as the rest of the squad took care of the surviving Chairman’s strays and approached you and Wooyoung with the most exasperated face. Ah, you were going to get it on the ride back to the Headquarters. Even if it was Wooyoung’s fault.

Partners always got blamed together.

“See? It wasn’t too bad, gorgeous.”

You clenched your fists around Wooyoung’s suit lapel, he only raised his arms in surrender and grinned, eyes twinkling with mirth and was that fondness? You were annoyed, not angry at him anymore but simply annoyed.

“Wasn’t too bad? Wasn’t too bad for you, Jung Wooyoung but my reputation does take a hit. How do you plan on salvaging it?”

The grin widened and you immediately knew he had something up his sleeve. He grabbed your wrists and you let go of his jacket, he cleared his throat and straightened his black suit.

“Well, I do have an afternoon tea reservation for two at The Ritz and a bejewelled pair of silver heels waiting in the car. I owe you coffee and a new pair of heels, you said so yourself! And you owe me a date!”

You can’t help but laugh at his words. A man of his word, a fine man at that.

“Fine. However, don’t think this is enough to satisfy me.”

Wooyoung looped his arm around yours and leaned down to give you a swift peck to your lips, not minding the stares or silence that fell behind them. You smacked him lightly for the public display of affection yet followed his lead to the lift.

“Of course not, Mrs Jung. I intend to woo you!”

[littlepadika]

Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

[bukojuiice]

this is how you fall in love ━ levi ackerman

ೃ pairing: (levi ackerman x  gn! reader)

ೃ  the entire division of the survey corps are not convinced that you and levi are absolutely actually together. however, it took a small expedition outside of the walls and an abnormal titan incident for everyone to coo adoringly at the soft and loving demeanor that levi holds around you and only you.

ೃ genre and warnings: canonverse, fluff, and strong language.

ೃ  my nav  →  my aot masterlist  →   sign up for my taglist

ೃ 1.6k words

ೃ dedicated to one of my first uni friends, @ryscenery because if the two of us didn’t yell (affectionately) at each other for our love for levi, this fic may have never been birthed. i hope you enjoy! 🥺

Love certainly makes you do the wacky. But in a world where chaos is imminent, war is always looming, and people die to giant man-eating humanoid monsters, how can one possibly make their life akin to that of a romance novel?

Well, unfortunately, you can't.

It's a Live and Let Die world, after all.

But... to the remaining few of humanity who are strong and lucky enough to be still wandering the faces of the unknown world, love is a treasure. A gift only a few can find.

And somehow, and someway, you were lucky enough to find comfort in someone you never thought you'd expect to find.

Levi Ackerman.

The stoic and blunt smart-ass captain of the Survey Corps? Yes, him.

Honestly, it's quite a surprise. No one would have ever thought that someone could shake the world of Humanity's Strongest Soldier. It almost felt like a dream, honestly. Your subordinates and co-captains can't even get their heads wrapped around the fact that there's something between the two of you. Well, it's not like either you and Levi were bold enough to rub it in other people's faces.

Even Hanji, who made it seems as if they were utterly convinced over the fact that the two of you are together by teasing the two of you every time that you were within a few feet of each other, has their doubts.

It didn't take long until a minor expedition outside the walls made everyone in the division finally realize how much you and Levi were pining lovestruck dorks when hidden from the eyes of prying and spying soldiers.

An attempted attack from an abnormal titan had forced you to stray away from the rest of your squad's formation. Baiting the abomination away from your subordinates led you to get lost in the outskirts of an abandoned town. With a terribly injured leg, none of your essential equipment with you, and with no means of communication, you had no choice but to wait for the rest of the scouts on patrol to find you.

However, you were afraid of one person.

Levi knows how strong and how much you can hold up in a fight (Your Titan kill count is one of the highest in the Corps), but he hates how reckless you can get. How stubborn. How irrational your decisions can be at times and how much you hate the fact that he reprimands you for the littlest mistakes. Even if those mistakes could ultimately be the cost of your own life.

Catching sight of a shadowy figure and the sound of the clopping of horses from beyond a steep hill, you brace yourself for another long and agonizing lecture from Levi as he continues to approach.

"Captain (Y/N)!" Armin, a rookie soldier from your fleet, calls out. A look of relief forming on his face. "We brought Captain Levi! He's just behind us!"

"Oh, great." You whisper, grimacing to yourself. "Just great." Your wounded leg fails you as you try to prop yourself up onto your horse, falling back down on a mound of rubble.

You only wish you could know what Levi is feeling right now once he sees the predicament you've brought upon yourself once again.

"Captain (Y/N) has strayed away from our formation!" Jean reports sternly, a tinge of worry straining his voice. "They have diverted an abnormal titan from ruining our formation! As of now, none of us in the fleet know of their whereabouts! Neither do they have a flare gun nor any kits in case of an emergency, as they have left them with Krista before the expedition!"

Erwin clears his throat, shaking his head to try and keep his calm facade. "We'll send some soldiers to scout the-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, the distinct cry of a nearby horse could be heard. As the rest of the surviving soldiers turn their heads to where the sound came from, they could do nothing but stare agape at Levi's fleeting figure cross through the safe area and again into dangerous territory. No one could dare to stop him, after all. There was no way.

All they could do was stare in awe at the dramatic yet sweet gesture of the stone-hearted captain that happened right before their tired eyes.

Maybe now they're finally convinced that the two of you are actually together.

(Levi's POV)

I sprinted through the vast fields with all the remaining strength I could muster. After a long exhibition, I didn't expect I'd have to drag my ass around to find (Y/N). Yet, I could not recall the last time I found myself so short of breath.

Dammit. Please be safe.

I am only vaguely surprised to feel an icy trickle of sweat on the back of my neck and my wringing hands as I hold onto the saddle.

Hurry... I must hurry.

There was not a moment to waste. If there were a titan to cross through these shitty grasslands ever again, I'd have to kill these fuckers as fast as I can. Whatever it took to reach them.

....How unlike me.

I hated this feeling. I knew it was inevitable and could happen anytime, but my body launched forward before Erwin could even give his command. Duty decreed that I should have informed him, but the thought came far too late.

I have no doubt Erwin will conjure some excuse for me. After all, this is what everyone wanted, right? Didn't they want to see more proof of my undying love for them? Just because I don't make goo-goo eyes at them doesn't mean I wouldn't defy everything just to keep them safe.

Perhaps I am being irresponsible... but I have no choice but to put my trust in him.

For now, I have someone more important than anything else, someone I cannot fail. Someone I must save.

At the end of the maddeningly long field of nothingness and stark skies, my destination hoves into view.

As (Y/N)'s weakened figure appears closer and closer to me, I abruptly halt my steed and dismount from it. With all my strength once again, I rush to their side.

Moments later, you hear Levi's voice, whom you had seen off just this morning. Wincing in pain due to your injuries, you mentally prepare yourself for another scolding.

"Keep safe" were the words he'd never fail to whisper every time the both of you are forced to depart from each other. It wasn't the most romantic saying out there, but it meant a lot. Especially coming from Levi. He was not the most physically affectionate beau out there, but these little sweet nothings were enough to make your heart flutter.

Observing his looks as he approaches, Levi almost seems panicked. Out of breath, even breaking a sweat... you can't even remember the last time you saw him like this.

His piercing gaze bore into yours, and you felt as though you might fall into it.

Levi takes one step towards you and then another.

"I-I'm fine... okay?" You puff your chest and tug at his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry. I kicked that titan's ass before it could even get a hand of me. How about you? Are you alright? You're breathing so heavily."

He doesn't answer your question but instead drops his gaze into your shaking hands.

"(Y/N)..." His voice was barely audible, a whisper. There's this exasperated look in his eyes that you can't quite describe. And yet, through that faintest movement of his lips, you knew what he meant to say.

"Levi, listen. I'm-"

---And yet... he did not allow you to finish.

Soft warmth pressed against your lips. And his embrace... so intense yet so gentle.

He didn't have to say it with words; This is the first time Levi has shown such love through his touch. Kind, yet powerful. His kiss felt like the wings of butterflies, beating softly upon lips of crushed petals.

You remain in his arms, held tight to the Captain's chest.

The suddenness of his actions came as a surprise, of course... but even so.

The heat radiating from your bodies brought such a wellspring of happiness to you. You were so happy. So very, very happy.

It was so profound that you wished that it might never end.

"Tch. I thought I was going to lose you..." He trails off, squeezing your arm in slight annoyance. "W-why do you always have to be so damn reckless? Why can't you just stick to the plan?"

"Reckless is my middle name after all." You giggle, the kiss ever so deepening.

You're suddenly brought back into reality when a flustered cough echoes from behind you.

You and Levi took it as your cue to finally let go, releasing one another.

"I hope we're not interrupting something..." You turn to see Armin Arlert, a rookie from your fleet, approach the two of you awkwardly. "I'll be tending to Captain (Y/N)'s wounds... if you'd allow me." He clears his throat, clearly intimidated by the cold and striking facade emanating from Levi.

"Captain Erwin sent us." Mikasa added stoically. Ah yes, the ever so tactful commander.

"Were you brats watching?"

"No! Of course not!" Jean, Sasha, and Connie who were lagging from behind, dismiss Levi's claims with a dramatic wave of their hands. "We totally weren't-"

Levi sighs, "Look. Even if you were, I wouldn't get mad." There's a slight blush that slowly creeps on his face yet quickly fades away. "Just... don't get into details once Hanji or Erwin tries to bug you about it, alright?"

"Yes, Captain!"

"Thank you for coming to pick us up." You smile weakly as you let Armin kneel to tend to your wounds. "Who knows what could have happened if we were left here alone?" You nudge Levi's shoulder suggestively."

He smirks, chuckling to himself. "If we were, then they'll finally have more proof that the two of us are actually together, won't they?"

taglist: @crapimahuman @hu-tao-main @smg-valeria​ @moonless-abyss @midnightangelfox @dukina @chibishae34 @arvinrusselisbae @kenmakeii  @eissaaaa @yummyyumi​ @the-one-that-lurks @prxttyguardian

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette tried not to be obvious with her annoyance, but it was difficult when she knew that Lila had come to the Liberty specifically to irritate her. It wasn't even her paranoia creeping up, as Lila had made it clear from their first day of face-to-face interaction that she wanted to make Marinette's life miserable. The worst part was that everyone else either believed her or tolerated her, meaning Marinette looked unreasonable no matter what she did to combat it.

She figured she should've known that Luka would be Lila’s next target. The Liberty had always felt like somewhat of a safe haven - funny, considering who owned it - so it had only been a matter of time until Lila had heard enough to decide to show up there.

"Oh, she seemed so curious to actually be on a houseboat! She's only ever been on yachts and stuff before! How could we say 'no'?

Marinette tried to keep her lips shut tight so the gritting of her teeth wasn't seeable to anyone. The best she could do was watch from afar and keep any unkind comments internal while vaguely fantasizing about being Ladybug and dumping Lila in the garbage where she belonged.

Luka, to his credit, didn't seem to take Lila's bait like everyone else. She'd sought him out and he technically listened to her (as she lied about all the music people she knew and all the connections she could give him), but he was mostly occupied with tuning his guitar, only giving her a vague noise every now and then to signal that he was listening.

It was one of Marinette's few joys of the day, which made it twice as infuriating when Lila ruined it.

"Anyway, Luka," Lila added, her voice saccharine and fake, "I really hope you and I can become great friends."

Luka's eyebrow twitched.

"And don't worry, I would never force you. I know there are some people like that, who want to make everything go their way—"

Marinette knew it was a jab at her even though she definitely wasn't that kind of person; from Lila's point of view though, of course she'd think that.

Lila continued, "but I'd never do that to you, okay? I promise!"

For the first time since she'd been talking to him, Luka turned to her, his expression somewhere between neutral and the annoyance he showed at listening to XY's "version" of Kitty Section's music. "Can you please—"

He didn't get to finish that sentence, as Lila suddenly leaned in to kiss him. Luka jerked away the moment it registered with him, but it was already too late; the contact had been made.

All the anger that had been stewing in Marinette's stomach bubbled to the surface. She stormed over, her body language confrontational as she asked, "What do you think you're doing?!"

The outburst had gotten the attention of the other girls. Though they hadn't seen it, what happened was obvious given the way Luka was covering his mouth.

Lila turned to face Marinette, sinking to that vulnerable state she used so much whenever she got caught. "I-I didn't mean to! I meant to kiss his cheek and he turned too quickly."

It was a lie, and Marinette knew it. Lila had intentionally said things to make Luka look at her so she could kiss him, all to irritate Marinette.

"You see..." Lila pressed her palm to her cheek. "I-I thought a cheek kiss would be okay. You don't seem like the type of person who would be close to someone like him, and everyone told me that you do it all the time."

Marinette was fuming at the implication, feeling personally insulted at the idea that she and Luka weren't close.

And they'd told her. Her friends had been gossiping about her to Lila, or at least telling her details, which Marinette herself had definitely not consented to.

She went to toss a glare her friends' way, but they were already rushing forward to assure Lila that everything was okay, with Marinette having to step away or risk getting knocked back with the way they formed around her.

"M-maybe I need to re-learn French customs. I spent so long away from the country and other places have—"

Marinette wasn't listening anymore. She knew how this went and didn't want to be around to see another repeat of it, nor her friends potentially shouting at her. She turned away with a frustrated exhale, speed-stomping away and going up the stairs to head outside.

Passing by the cabin, she went into the greenhouse-esque area with all of the larger plants, plopping down on the long flower-patterned seating with a heavy sigh. She'd fallen right into Lila's trap, again, and couldn't help being angry at the whole situation.

Going after her was one thing, but Luka? And to kiss him like that on top of trying to lure him in with her deceit? Marinette knew deep down that she had a right to be upset at Lila's actions, but the way she reacted to it just ended up making Lila look like the victim instead of Luka. Had she failed him?

She groaned into her clasped hands, imagining that Luka must've thought that she looked like a fool shouting like that. She liked to think that she would've done things differently had she been able to do it again, but she was still angry and honestly just wanted to go off on Lila again.

She didn't move, though briefly considered going home. After all, it'd be pointless going back downstairs, as she'd probably just end up being glared at and blamed for Lila being upset. Luka probably didn't want to see her either after that display anyway.

As if her concerns had summoned him, she suddenly heard his voice call out to her from nearby. "Marinette?"

She stiffened, then lowered her hands enough to peek at him. When none of the negative emotions she expected showed on his face, she lowered them the rest of the way.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently.

She straightened, jaw slack that's that what he was concerned about. "Am I okay? What about you?!" She gestured wildly to him. "That—that akuma-luring harpy just kissed you!"

She realized what she said and covered her mouth, knowing that it was a much more direct insult than she usually would've gone with. Luka, however, tried to suppress a laugh from it, snorting loudly into his hand.

"I—" He cut himself off, still chuckling too much to speak. After a few seconds, he took a breath to calm down, then gave her a calm smile and continued, "I washed my mouth out, just to make sure."

Marinette tried to keep her negative emotions at the forefront, but then she was trying to suppress her laughter as well. She almost felt bad about it, but the wide grin on Luka's face showed that he'd fully intended for her to have that reaction. He walked over, taking a seat down next to her and leaning forward to maintain eye contact.

He waited until she quieted herself down with a final squeak that he asked again, "Really, are you okay?"

The smile she had on from laughter faded, though her spirits were still much higher than before. "Not really. She—she's always doing that." She glanced at him. "Let me guess, they're catering to her?"

He nodded. "They're planning on having lunch without you since you—" He made a face, clearly displeased. "—'made her so upset.'" He stared out of the glass opposite of them. "I wasn't going to join them."

"You didn't have to do that," she said, though her voice was soft from being touched by the gesture.

He gave her a smile. "I know, but I'd rather have lunch with you than with everyone else and that—" He smirked. "—'harpy.'"

Marinette tried to bite back a smile of her own, but couldn't. Hearing the pure-hearted Luka say an insult so brazenly, even if he was just parroting her own, was too funny not to smile at.

"Thanks~" she said gratefully.

"I should be thanking you," he argued. He leaned back in his seat, but didn't stop looking at her. "For being so upset on my behalf."

She blushed, looking away with both shyness and embarrassment. "I-I was really loud though."

"You play your song for everyone to hear, Marinette. I love that about you."

She blushed deeper, mentally cursing his smoothness. "How are you so okay with this?"

"I'm not," he replied, "not really, but..." He shrugged. "That kiss didn't mean anything to me. It wasn't real."

She looked over at him, frowning. "T-that was your first though, wasn't it?"

His brows rose in surprise, his face telling her everything she needed to know even before he responded. "...Well, yeah."

Now that she'd had it officially confirmed, Marinette bristled. "It's not right!" She huffed and turned to him, throwing her arms out. "Your first kiss is supposed to be special and with someone you really love! It's not supposed to just be stolen from you like that!"

He touched a hand to his chest, clearly touched by her passionate anger. She turned red and forced herself to look away from him, finding it hard to stay angry when he stared at her that way.

"...And I know you were already pretty upset with her, I could see it," she explained, "so it wasn't like I felt like I had to get angry for you, but still. She doesn't care what anyone thinks and I'm mad at her for kissing you like that and I'm mad at me because she only did it to get on my nerves and I know I shouldn't be mad at me because she's just mad that I won't fall for her lies but I'm mad anyway because I still let her rile me up when that's exactly what she wanted." Burying her face in her hands, she whined and added, "I guess I wasn't jealous at least - not in that way anyway - since I'd never want to do anything to you without your permission like she did, but I know she meant for me to get to jealous because I just—"

She cut herself off, the words clogging up her throat and forcing her to swallow them. She raked her fingers through her hair, mentally debating with herself if she really wanted to tell Luka everything.

But of course she did. Not only did he deserve it, but she felt responsible for her feelings and it was her fault that things happened the way they did, even if it was indirect on her part.

"I..." She closed her eyes and sighed, her voice lowering itself to a whisper. Hunching over, she wrung her hands together and admitted quietly, "I wanted to be your first kiss..."

Silence took over the conversation from there, but she understood. She just dropped a bomb on him and couldn't expect him to reply right away, so she let the seconds drag on without any judgment on her part.

Eventually, she heard the sound of Luka sliding himself closer, so close that the side of his hand briefly touched her leg. He inhaled softly like he was about to speak, stopped, then tried again.

"You... you what?"

She steeled herself up, the words only slightly easier to say than before. "I wanted to be your first kiss. I-I'm selfish, and I know that. Everyone knows it, and that's why—"

His hand touched her leg again. She briefly jumped in surprise, then realized moments later that the touch was intentional this time, as he'd fully settled his hand on her leg. Fighting against her nerves, she turned to look at him and saw how relaxed his expression was.

"You can be selfish."

"W-what?"

"It makes me happy. It means that—" He paused, his cheeks tinting pink as he smiled wide. "—you really want me."

It almost sounded like a question the way he said it, his eyes distant only in a way that implied that he's still absorbing what she'd said.

Her chest filled with hope as she squeaked out, "I...I do. Of course I do." Looking down at the hand on her lap, she placed her own onto it and gave it a squeeze. "But..."

The hope twisted and fought with the shame attempting to take its place, memories of the past coming back to haunt her. She averted her gaze fully, staring off at nothing in particular. "I-I can't give you my first kiss." She squeezed his hand tighter, as if that made anything better. "There was this akuma, and I had to... I mean—"

She felt his hand shifting in hers and immediately worried that she'd squeezed it too hard. She loosened her grip, only to feel his hand turn itself around to hold her hand back, pressing their palms together. The motion made her look back and make eye contact with him.

"Then that wasn't real either, was it?" he asked gently. Giving a fond glance down at their joined hands, he added, "This might be more Rose's type of music than mine, but I think the only kisses that have to matter are the ones that you put meaning into playing."

She gaped. It was still registering with her that he was not only okay with her crushing on him, but still returned it. "S-so... it's not any different? You'd let me kiss you anyway?"

"I never thought about first kisses or second kisses, or any verses beyond that," he told her, placing his other hand on top of their joined ones. "I only care about your kisses."

Marinette's cheeks turned crimson, and she nearly burst into happy laughter. She settled for beaming at him, still amazing at how easily he could ease all of her worries and doubts.

"Then... I'll give you all of them."

She shifted, continuing to hold his hand while her other went to his face. He leaned into her touch, making her all the more eager to pull him in. He didn't protest when she did, his hand moving away from their joined ones to grab her shoulder.

They kissed. Marinette was momentarily surprised when Luka's lips seemed to have a hint of wetness to them, only to realize that he'd meant it when he said that he'd washed his mouth out. She giggled mid-kiss, positively delighted to have someone like him, and he responded to the sound with a soft noise of content. She stroked his cheek with her thumb, then slid her hand down to his neck to urge him closer. He did the same with her shoulder, pulling her in and deepening the contact.

It took a few seconds of internal debate for her to convince herself to break the kiss to talk to him, and she enjoyed the slight whine he made as she did so.

"Better than Lila?" she asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it regardless.

"Definitely," he replied without hesitation, leaning in to touch his forehead to hers.

She hummed. "Mm, good." She pulled him back in for a smaller, quicker kiss that was no less loving than the last. Full of confidence, she felt it safe to say, "I should always be playing my boyfriend's favorite song."

His reaction was immediate, his eyes sparkling and his smile wide. She blushed red, overwhelmed and half-regretting saying anything. He was just too much.

"What is it?" he asked when she averted her gaze.

"P-please stop smiling like that," she whined.

"I can't," he said. More to himself than her, he added cheerfully, "I'm your boyfriend."

"Luka!"

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 111: Smile

"Auror Potter! Auror Potter!" the wizarding press started shouting the instant the doors to the Wizengamot opened following the trial, and Draco watched as Harry's shoulders stiffened. "Smile for the cameras!" one witch shouted.

"Tell us about the case, Auror Potter!"

"How did you catch Hollister?"

"What's the status on your relationship with Ginny Weasley?"

"Smile!"

He watched as Harry carefully put on a mask of indifference, making his face pleasant and amiable in the way that only someone who has spent years in the public eye is able to do.

Harry held up a hand, "Thank you for your interest in this case. We're asking that you respect the Griffiths Family's privacy as they go through the aftermath of this harrowing ordeal. Alden Hollister has been brought to justice; I will leave it to the court reporter to give you more of the details."

The reporters started in shouting at him once more, asking all sorts of questions both professional and personal.

"Sorry," he said, "If you'll excuse us please. Auror Malfoy and I have had a very difficult few days and we're long overdue for some rest," he added, chuckling amiably at them. "Thank you," he nodded. "Good night."

Without waiting for anything else, Draco reached out and grasped Harry's elbow and apparated them out of there and back to the apparition point just outside the Ministry. They had to apparate home separately, Merlin knew the press would have a field day if they knew the full truth about the nature of their relationship.

(Read more below the cut)

Members of the press were waiting by that apparation point as well, Draco watched a tremor of unease sluice up Harry's back. He was sure that he wouldn't have suspected a thing if not for how long he had been watching Harry Potter. Sometimes he wondered if he knew Harry better than Harry knew himself.

Harry held up a hand but Draco beat him to the punch this time. "Move," he snapped, pushing his way through the press but keeping Harry half a step ahead of him so they couldn't suck him in. "Auror Potter's already given an interview to your insipid colleagues. The DMLE and the Wizengamot will be issuing official statements within the hour, I suggest you wait for them."

They were followed into the lobby but fortunately the reporters couldn't come any further and within a few moments they were ensconced in the relative safety of the elevator.

Once they got inside, Harry leaned back against the back wall and let his head fall foward while Draco hit the button to their floor before joining him.

"Thanks," Harry murmured.

"Don't mention it," Draco replied, reaching across the gap between them and hooking their pinkies together.

He released his finger the floor before theirs and stepped away, "What do you still have to do?" he asked.

"You're submitting the report, right?"

Draco nodded, "It's just about done. I'll need a few minutes to finish."

"I just have to straighten up my desk, then. I'll head home first."

The elevator dinged and the door opened onto their floor, Draco gave Harry a little nod and they stepped out.

Harry was done straightening his desk and putting things away in ten minutes and he stood and stretched before patting Draco congenially on the shoulder. "Nice work, Malfoy," he said. "I'll see you in two days. Enjoy your couple of days of recovery," he added.

"Thanks, Potter," he replied. "You, too."

He didn't let himself watch Harry leave, didn't let himself look at his retreating form to analyze what he was feeling and thinking. No, he went back to finishing his report and after another fifteen minutes he was done as well. He dropped the report in Robbard's mailbox and headed for the apparition point, knowing that Harry would have used the floo network to avoid as many reporters as possible.

Fortunately, the reporters left him alone for the most part and he reached the apparation point without incident. A heartbeat later he was standing in their entry way, breathing in the comforting scent of home, the warmth seeping into his bones and washing away all of the tension and stress.

He kicked off his shoes, tucked his bag into the closet, and hung up his cloak before turning and heading into the kitchen. Harry was standing over the hob, cooking chicken tikka masala by the smell of it, and that told Draco everything his needed to know about how draining this case had been on Harry.

Harry only cooked after a case when he was especially frustrated, when he was desperate to care for someone, to fix the hurts he was able to, to heal. He ached with how much he loved the other man.

"Hey," he murmured as he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and hooked his chin over his shoulder. "Smells good."

Harry leaned into him, "Good," he replied, setting the wooden spoon down and turning his head to press a quick kiss to Draco's lips. "How are you?" he asked softly.

"Tired," Draco replied honestly.

Harry hummed and turned back to his rice, pulling down the jar of jasmine and adding some. "Me too."

"I'm going to open a bottle of wine," he said, pressing a kiss to Harry's shoulder. "White okay?"

"Sure," the other man replied, giving him a worn, weary smile.

Draco opened the wine and set the table, getting everything ready while Harry finished preparing the food.

"Dinner's ready," Harry said, bringing over the rice and chicken tikka masala, and a batch of naan that he'd had under stasis for a moment like this.

"Thanks," Draco replied and the first part of dinner was quiet, companionable, like it always was.

Then, once Harry was almost done with his first helping he started to talk. "Godric, I hate those vultures," he grumbled before taking a sip of his wine. "Can you imagine how heartless you have to be to stand outside of a court to ambush someone after the kind of case we just finished?"

"They're awful," Draco agreed.

"I always wish I could tell them to fuck off," he added, shaking his head.

"What a sight that would be," he said with a laugh. "I'd give my entire vault at Gringotts to see it. Can you imagine their faces?"

Harry laughed too, "It sure would be something." But then after a moment he said, "What's happened to me?"

"What?" Draco asked, panic spearing through his chest. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, "No, nothing like that," he said, soothingly. "Sorry. It's just," he paused as though he was trying to put his thoughts in order. "When I was seventeen I would have told them to piss off in an instant. I would have told them that they were heartless, soulless leeches without hesitation."

"You've just learned to be more diplomatic," Draco replied, tearing off another piece of naan to soak up more of the tikka masala.

"But why?" Harry asked. "I'm sick of it. It's exhausting."

Draco nodded, "I don't doubt it. But I'm sure even you would get in trouble for telling off the press like that. You are the Ministry's Golden Boy, after all. You've got quite an image to uphold."

"Why do we do this job, Draco?" he asked suddenly.

Draco blinked, their conversations after a case usually centered around the case itself and Harry's guilt for not being fast enough, clever enough, etc. "Well, when we started, you wanted to catch bad guys, save people, the works. And I wanted to redeem myself, do some good for once, and piss off my father."

Harry swallowed down the remainder of his glass of wine, "I hate it."

"What?"

"Being an Auror," he said. "The only time I'm ever happy is when I'm with you, the only time I feel like I'm actually me is when I'm with you." He shook his head, "I don't know how I became this person. How I became someone who could put on a fake smile and be polite to people who are such arse holes."

"What are you saying?"

He blew out a breath, "I want to stop." Running his fingers through his hair he said, "I don't want to do this anymore."

"Alright," Draco said, covering Harry's hand with his own. "We'll quit tomorrow."

"We?" he asked.

He nodded, "Ninety percent of the reason that I am still an auror is to keep an eye on you."

Harry leaned in to kiss him, both of them smiling so widely that it made kissing rather difficult. "What'll we do?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged, "Let's not rush into anything."

"Alright," Harry agreed, bringing Draco's hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to his wrist. "I'm sure whatever we decide on will be good, as long as we're together."

"I love you," Draco murmured.

Harry smiled and squeezed his hand, "I love you, too."

And even though he didn't quite know what tomorrow would bring, he knew that everything would be okay.

---------

Day 110: Rough | Day 112: Intimacy

[bakapandy]

Hello hello!

I come to you with an artistic existential crisis (feel free to ignore). So, I'm still kinda new to art, and I love drawing but the thing is, there so much stuff on social media, different people that I find absolutely amazing and I'm an easily influenced person and always come back to doubting myself on the path I'm currently taking. For exemple I do lineart but there are so many incredible lineless pieces of art that I question myself about this (I tried, it didn't feel right for me but I still feel like maybe I should try harder?) And then there are those who use thick lines while I do mine thin, muted colours versus bright colours or simply black and white...

So I guess what I want to ask is: how do you differentiate the art you simply admire and the element you actually want to put in your own art? How do you know what kind of stuff you want to make? Or I guess how you figured it out since you've been doing this for a really long time.

Anyway, thank you for gracing the world with your amazing art and have a nice rest of your day!

Oh it’s a daily struggle lmao, I see art I love and I’m like THIS WHAT I WANT TO DO and when I first started out, my style varied widely bc of that. But in general, my art is always influenced by whatever I’m currently interested in haha. Since I’m back on my Naruto BS, I take heavy influence from Kishimoto’s work, but I’ve added my own flair and stylistic choices based on my own experiences and personal taste. So it really is up to you on what you want to incorporate into your artwork.

I usually just keep a couple things in mind:

1. It takes time to incorporate new elements into your art style. Of course your style is going to be different from the original work, so whatever element you want to add has to be fitted to YOUR work, as it was fitted to the inspiration’s work. It may not work the first few times, it may not work the first dozen times, it may not work at all, but it never hurts to try it out. And Hey, you may even develop something new and better suits your style, which is what often happens to me haha.

Honestly there is nothing stopping you from trying out ALL of those different elements you mentioned, I certainly have before and I’m sure all artists have at some point. That’s the point of practicing and producing art! Go wild, especially since you said you’re just starting out

2. Keep in mind what your art goals are. Are you trying to achieve an aesthetic for professional purposes? Are you trying to match a style to tell a certain story?

For me, my goal is to be as LAZY AND FAST AS POSSIBLE. I don’t have much time to spent drawing so when I do want to draw something or make a comic, I want it to be done FAST. That’s why I rarely color. I simply don’t have the time to spend 8 billion hours thinking of a color palette and lighting and rendering artwork. Otherwise I’d never produce any content or finish any of the stories I want to write.

The same goes for linework, rarely do more than 2 passes of refining lines bc that would take too much time. That’s why my line work is squiggly and sketchy at times and that has somehow turn into a stylistic detail for me along the way. Of course, with practice, I’ve developed more confidence in line placement so I don’t have to do more than a couple passes anyway.

But this is just me, I don’t draw professionally and really only draw to satisfy my own interests, so this works for me. I am fully aware my work is not professional quality nor do I intend it to be, and I’m totally ok with that.