#I know I said so already but having at-a-glance differences to show where we're at ah <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[lyonnns]

A tired grin hovered on Jenna’s lips as she heard the husk of Cate’s voice; there was comfort in it. She let her fingers trail over the ones caressing her arm. “kinda reminds me exactly why I don’t usually mix drinks,” she lightly joked, her gaze semi-defeated but never moving her attention away. Jenna bit her lip and sat up against the headboard, the sheet slipping slightly from her shoulder. Despite the shift, their closeness remained intact.

She didn’t know whether to be saddened by the sheer idea that the blonde had an inkling she’d wake up in an empty bed, wake up to the fear that Jenna had left. “Hey—” Jenna’s brows furrowed as she reached out, her hand landing over Cate’s lap in a gesture of comfort. She knew that despite leaving reassurance, it never entirely registered. “I just needed to let us both think straight—something I know neither of us could’ve done last night had i not given you the space. But not for a second was I ever not going to come back.” as her frown still remained, she let the sighing breath ease her hand away as she moved up from the edge of the bed and over by the coffee machine Jenna pushed back the covers, stretching before swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m making us both coffee first, okay?” she said, her tone light, but the undercurrent of exhaustion still lingered. “Normally, I’d rather drink tap water than hotel coffee, but even I have to humble myself sometimes.” She hummed, glancing over her shoulder at Cate, her expression soft and reassuring. A few minutes later, Jenna returned across the room, moving toward the bed with two mugs in hand. She handed one to Cate, offering a small, reassuring smile. “le voici, bébé,” she murmured, pressing her lips together before settling back against the headboard, legs folded beneath her. Jenna exhaled softly, keeping a firm grip on her cup as she blew on the surface before taking a sip. “So—before you say anything, I want you to just listen,” she said, her tone steady but gentle. “I spent a lot of time thinking about this last night—about everything. And I think it’s best if you hear me out first." taking a beat, her face fell toward's the other woman She paused, gripping her cup a little tighter.

“I was hurt, Cate—I didn’t understand why I reacted the way I did at first. But then it dawned on me… it wasn’t that I thought you were putting responsibility on me. I know this is your decision, something i imagine you’ve wanted for a long time by the sounds of it . And I respect that. But the way it came out last night—it felt like an afterthought, like something casually thrown into the air instead of something we could actually talk about. It made me wonder where I fit into all of this.” She took a slow breath, her gaze steady now. “Because if this is going to work, Cate, I need to feel like I matter in your life—not just when it’s convenient, but in the moments that truly shape it.” It was known that Jenna disliked confrontations of any sort, but this didn’t entirely feel like she was comforting the blonde. It felt like she was placing her heart right in front of her — showing her that vulnerability didn’t have to be a risk, that it could still come with safety. "so, then I wondered between all that... how would I have reacted had you told me without the tension, or the liquid courage? Would I have still been shocked? Confused? Of course. But I imagine it would’ve been different. It would’ve just taken listening—listening to your reasoning, knowing a lot of this was already in process… I imagine, before we were officially a thing? I know adoptions don’t just happen overnight —— But not for one second would I ever make you choose. That wouldn’t even cross my mind. But I know you, and I know why that worry line between your brows is there.” Jenna’s tone lightened as she pointed it out, offering a small, knowing smile. "You and I, we're in this very fortunate position in life where I know the idea of you bringing this little girl into your life is something you want deeply, knowing you can. But you know, despite the unfortunate way I had to find out, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here, and I'm staying. And don't think for a second you're not allowed to ask me for help, 'cause newsflash, babe, I'm helping anyway." She reached toward Cate’s free hand, giving it a firm squeeze.As her other hand held the coffee she'd been sipping on, Jenna eventually placed it down on the dresser. "Now... say what you wish, but know I really want to know more about this. I want to know when, and I want to know every detail about this major part of your life."

Cate stirred slowly, the edges of sleep peeling away as the soft husk of Jenna’s voice pulled her back to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting Jenna’s gaze in the muted morning light filtering through the curtains. For a brief moment, she wasn’t sure where she was—the weight of the night before still lingered like a thick fog. Then she felt the warmth of Jenna’s body beside her, the gentle press of her hand against her cheek, and the pieces clicked into place. Her heart gave a unsteady lurch, caught between relief and the echoes of last night’s fear. “Hi…” Cate echoed, her voice a cracked whisper, rough from sleep and the emotional wreckage she’d carried into the early hours. She blinked slowly, her blue eyes adjusting to the sight of Jenna’s face—tired, yes, but softer than she’d feared, with a trace of that familiar warmth. Her head throbbed, but it was the ache in her chest that felt louder. She shifted slightly, her hand still resting over Jenna’s arm, unwilling to let go of the contact that had anchored her through the night. “The head.. it could be worst” she admitted with a small smile, her fingers tightening just a fraction against Jenna’s skin. She searched her girlfriend’s eyes, trying to break the distance between them— “Yours?” she asked, her tone soft. She didn’t dare dive deeper yet, didn’t trust herself to navigate the raw edges of their last conversation without shattering everything again. But she needed to hear Jenna’s voice, needed to know they could still reach each other, even if it was just through these small, careful steps.

Cate propped herself up slightly, wincing as the movement sent a faint pulse through her temples. The room was quiet, and she let her gaze linger on Jenna—the tousled hair, the faint shadows under her eyes, the way she looked both exhausted and impossibly present. “I… I didn’t think you’d still be here when I woke up,” she confessed, her voice barely above a breath, the vulnerability slipping out before she could catch it. Her free hand moved to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture as she waited, her heart suspended in the space between Jenna’s silence and whatever might come next.

[whoops-all-jennas]

More than a Game - t.c.

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary - Tara is dared to talk to you by her friend group during class. She regrets it and wants to make it up to you

This was inspired by @kaisacobra fic "I Dare You"

Warnings: slight bullying

Part 1 Part 2

The sound of cars passing by and the patter of raindrops on your umbrella is the only stimulation you have on your walk to school.

You usually wear earbuds but you discovered this morning that you accidentally left them in your pocket when you were washing your clothes, ruining your favorite earbuds.

You already know that today is going to be miserable, it never rains here so it must be a sign.

When you get near Woodsboro High, some assholes splash you by running over a puddle with their car.

You put your arms up in shock as you're now drenched. You see them snickering from their car, and fueled by your sour mood, you flip them off as they continue driving away.

You managed to get to school and make your way to the cafeteria for some breakfast. The chatter of students is the only other noise besides the squeaking of your wet shoes.

When you can see the line you see the cafeteria workers closed the line as the bell rings.

"This day literally can't get any worse." you mutter to yourself. As you leave the cafeteria one of the straps of your backpack broke.

-

"Look what the storm dragged in" Liv said mockingly to her friends at her table, just loud enough for you to hear as you drop your backpack next to your table near the back of the classroom and plop into your seat.

Tara's friends in this class consists of Amber, Chad, and 'Liv'. She wasn't really friends with Liv, but she was in the friend group so she had to try to get along with her.

"Why don't we talk to her? make her day better?" Liv said to her friends again with a malicious smile.

Tara knows this means 'act like talking to the quiet kid is some sort of game and treat them like a pet.'

"Come on Tara, you do it." Tara looks between her friends.

"What, no she's clearly having a bad day." Tara whispers loudly to Liv as Amber is now butting in.

"So?" if Amber had gum she would be chewing it in the most exaggerated way possible.

"What do you two have against y/n?" Chad says, now entering the conversation.

The next few seconds are silent until Liv breaks it. "Fine, I'll do it." Liv is about to stand up until Tara stands up first.

"No, I'll do it." Tara starts heading towards the open seat next to you before anyone can object.

Tara knows how Liv can be, so she thought it'd be better for you if it was at least herself instead.

"Hey." Tara says while taking a seat next to you.

You glance at her, acknowledging her existence, and then go back to getting ready for class. You pull out your laptop which is covered in stickers of different shows and stuff you like.

Tara looks forward to her friends who are watching back, Liv and Amber are amused but waiting for something to happen and Chad looking back a little worried.

"I like your laptop, I'm also a fan of-"

You interrupt her, your patience wearing thin. "I'm really not in the mood for this today." You finally look at Tara again. "I'm not an idiot, you can go tell your friends we're 'best friends' now or whatever." You say while making quotation marks with your fingers, annoyance lacing every word you said.

"Sorry I didn't mean-"

You cut her off again as you groan and put your stuff back in your backpack and quickly head out the door. The negative energy emanating off you.

As you're about to leave, your other backpack strap broke and fell to the ground.

You groan more loudly and annoyed than before, quickly grabbing your now not so 'back'pack and carrying it in your hands.

Tara looks to Amber and Liv giggling and looks back to you as you leave. She sees you dropped your chapstick, so she gets up and picks it up.

She heads to the door to see where you went but you were already gone.

Tara heads back to her friends, she tries to hide it but there's guilt on her face.

"That was awesome, did you record that?" Amber says while pointing at Liv.

"Shit I totally should have." Liv and Ambers faces have too much joy in them.

"You guys are assholes" Chad directs mostly at Amber and Liv.

"Lighten up a little, we were just joking around." Amber says with a smile on her face while Tara sits down in her original seat as the last bell rings indicating that class was starting.

'I'm an asshole.' Tara thinks to herself, not being able to focus during class.

-

Tara gets in the car with Chad and Mindy after the school day ended, she didn't see y/n for the rest of the day.

Tara usually gets a ride home from Chad and today wasn't any different, well at least in that aspect.

Chad has a worried look on his face when he looks at Tara in the back seat. He can see the guilt of today eating her up.

"I think you did the right thing, even though how it ended I know you had good intentions." Tara just nods with a forced smile.

"What are you talking about, what happened?" Mindy gets herself in the conversation.

"I don't really wanna talk about it." Tara replies and this quickly ends the conversation while Chad turns the car on.

"Hey Chad, was y/n in class in your first period? she wasn't in A/V class today but I swear I saw her this morning in the cafeteria." Mindy directs her words at Chad seeing that Tara doesn't really want to talk right now.

Tara rubs her hands across her face at hearing where the conversation is going before she looks out the window.

"She was there for a bit, but she left early." Chad responds. "Why what's up, I didn't know you two knew each other."

Chad glances towards Mindy for a second before focusing on the road again. "We were assigned together on a group project in A/V and we just kinda hit it off. Like behind that quiet and shy wall she has at first is this chill and talkative girl, when you get to know her first of course and she's comfortable around you."

Tara groans quiet enough for no one to hear as she throws her head back against the seat.

'Great, another reason to feel like an asshole.' She thinks to herself and soon the car comes to a stop in front of her house.

"I know we usually hangout after school, but you seem kinda out of it so I understand if you want to be alone for now." Chad looks back from the driver seat.

"Yeah, I kinda wanna be alone for now." Tara says quietly.

"Thanks for the ride." Tara gets out of the car after grabbing her backpack and heads to her house as Chad drives away.

When Tara gets inside she pulls out y/n's chapstick that she dropped. After getting a glass of water and settling down for a minute she grabs her phone and goes to Mindy's Instagram page.

She clicks on her followers and searches 'y/n' and quickly finds your account. Your account is set to private but your pfp is a picture of yourself with Mindy covered in fake blood.

Tara giggled at the picture, That was probably for the A/V project Tara thought to herself.

She requests to send a message starting with a picture of the chapstick and the caption 'u forgot something'.

After sending the message she turns the TV on while the anxiety of sending you a message slowly builds up as Tara keeps checking her phone.

After about 10 minutes Tara gets a notification from y/n

y/n: "thanks for picking it up"

Tara quickly starting typing but saw you were typing another message

y/n: "im sorry for kinda blowing up this morning"

Tara erased what she was typing and started a new message

Tara: "No no I'm the one who should be apologizing. I'm sorry for trying to talk to you when you clearly didn't want to be talked to"

Tara stares at the screen contemplating her next move before typing again

Tara: "How about I make it up to you? I saw you're a fan of horror movies how about we go watch a movie sometime"

Tara slaps herself after sending the message, but there isn't anything she can do about it now because she can see you already read the message.

After a few minutes Tara swears to herself after realizing you stopped typing and Tara was left on read.

-

You stare at the message you received from Tara with a confused look on your face.

"What?" you mouth to yourself before switching to messaging Mindy.

y/n: "hey mindy, your brother is friends with that one girl right? i think her name is tara"

You stare at the screen waiting for a response and are soon awaited with Mindy seeing the message and 3 dots moving in a bubble

Mindy: "yeah why?"

y/n: "what's she like? have you talked to her before? she's asking me to do hangout with her but i also know she's friends with amber and liv and THEM i know i don't like."

Mindy: "she's definitely the nicest out of that group, I have no idea why chad chills with them but tara i can actually have a conversation with and not have put up an act yk?"

Mindy: "what do you mean Tara is trying to hangout with you?"

You stare at the message contemplating what to say next until you start typing.

y/n: "well today she sat next to me and tried to talk to me. she's with liv and them so i assumed she was doing that thing where people talk to the more awkward students as a kinda game?"

y/n: "i kinda blew up on her and now she's messaging me saying she wants to watch a horror movie with me"

Mindy: "she's definitely not the type of person to do that willingly if that's what you're asking"

Mindy: "the teasing i mean"

Mindy: "if you're asking if you should do it it's your choice. I don't think there's any ill intend."

you stare at the message for a second before giving a quick reply

y/n: "thanks, this helps a lot with my decision :)"

Mindy: "ofc! anytime :)"

After a little more contemplating you go back to the messages with Tara.

y/n: "sorry for leaving you on read for so long lol"

y/n: "what movie did you have in mind?"

-

Somehow on the same day you agreed to go to Tara's house to watch a movie tonight with her. She lives a lot closer than you expected, walking distance close.

As you approach her door you hesitate on knocking for a second. After a few seconds you opt to messaging her saying you're here.

Tara opens the door with an awkward smile. "Hi, come on in make yourself at home."

You wave at her sheepishly, it feels better to see her treat you a bit more genuinely. It also doesn't hurt that she's pretty.

You take your shoes off and follow her to the living room. When you see a bowl of popcorn and the TV set up for a movie you instantly feel a weight off your shoulders.

You now know this isn't a setup or anything to tease you more. "Did you need anything to eat or drink?" Tara says, who is clearly a bit nervous, not as nervous as you are though.

"Just water, thank you." You awkwardly smile at her as she heads to the kitchen.

"Make yourself comfortable!" You hear her say from the kitchen like she knows you're just standing here awkwardly which, granted, she's right. So you take a seat on the couch.

Her house is very cozy, the lights are a warm color and they're not too abrasive.

Tara soon enters with two cups of water and sets them down on the coffee table.

"Is there anyone else here?" You say realizing how quiet it is.

"No, just us. my mom's at work so." Tara sits next to me and grabs the remote.

"We can watch whatever you recommend." You say and she looks at you a bit confused

"But this is for you." You exchange eye contact with Tara before you speak.

"I know and what I want to watch is what you recommend."

You give her a more genuine smile.

"Alrightly then, we're watching the Babadook." She gives you a smile before getting the Babadook setup on the TV.

During the movie you realize that you and Tara actually get along really well once you both got comfortable.

You kinda feel bad for blowing up on her today. You look towards her and admire her face, she really is so pretty.

"Everything okay?" You didn't realize you were staring until she spoke, your face starts to heat up.

"Yeah everything is fine." You said way too fast and broke eye contact immediately going back to the screen.

You can feel her eyes on you, she is definitely smirking but you are way too scared to look back. Instead you go to grab some more popcorn which Tara follows.

She touches your hand in the popcorn bucket, it wasn't too slick either it was clear that was what she was trying to do.

Either way, it doesn't make you any less flustered. "Sorry!" You quickly pull my hand back, if you getting caught staring was considered blushing then they needed a stronger word for how your face looks now.

"Its okay." Tara says with a sort of smugness in her voice.

Tara gets her water from the coffee table and takes the opportunity to sit closer to you.

Your shoulders are now touching and the extended contact is causing your heart to do flips.

"You okay? you look a little warm." Tara says teasingly. "Yeah I'm doing good, this movie is really good so far." A desperate attempt to get the attention off yourself.

Your faces are really close now and you can feel her breath on you.

Tara goes to make her next move, she reaches for your hand till she heard the front door open.

"Tara I'm home!" She heard her mother say from the front door.

Tara made space between you two quickly before her mom came in the room. Tara now being the one to be flustered.

"I see you have a friend here" She says, instantly able to see something was happening just by the look on Tara's face.

"Hi, I'm y/n." You interject awkwardly between the knowing stare that Tara's mom gave her.

"You can just call me Ms. Carpenter." She says waving before going up the stairs giving knowing glances on the way.

"I'm sorry about that, my mom can be a bit, you know." Tara makes eye contact with me, her face still flushed.

"Its okay" Trying to reestablish the previous mood. You both silently continue the movie, never really going beyond what previously happened between us.

The movie was just about over and it was getting late. Shortly after we finished the movie.

"I had a lot of fun, we should hangout more sometime" Tara says with a smile while she opens the door for me.

"Yeah I'd like that." We both look at each other not quite sure what to do or where we stand currently.

We both just awkwardly wave at each other as I start to walk home.

When you get inside and get comfortable in your bed you take a look at your phone.

There are two Instagram notifications, Tara Carpenter requested to follow you and another message.

"You forgot this again"

With a picture of your chapstick.

an: hey guys! im sorry if this isn't too well written, this is not only my first time writing a fic but first time writing because I wasn't forced to write. hope you enjoyed :)

[rosesareredrosa]

You Don't Know Me Anymore but that Can Change

Theo x fem reader

Summary: Where Theo neglects his relationship with Y/N due to spending too much time with his friends. Realizing his mistake, Theodore promises to change and starts making efforts to reconnect.

Authors note: I have no clue what to write please send in requests

Word Count: 988

The dim light of the Leaky Cauldron flickered as Y/N sat at the corner table, swirling their drink absentmindedly. The place was bustling, but it felt like they were in a world of their own. They glanced at their watch, sighing as the minute hand inched closer to 8:00 PM. Theodore was late. Again.

Just as Y/N was about to give up, the door creaked open and Theodore Nott slipped inside, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Y/N. A guilty smile tugged at his lips as he hurried over, planting a quick kiss on their cheek before sitting down.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. Blaise needed help with something," he said, running a hand through his dark hair.

Y/N forced a smile. "It's fine, Theo."

Theodore studied the menu briefly, then closed it with a satisfied nod. "I already know what I want. How about you? You like this place, right?"

Y/N bit their lip, looking away. "I used to."

Theodore's brow furrowed. "What do you mean 'used to'?"

Y/N took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. "You don't even know me anymore, Theo. You're always with Blaise or your other friends. We barely spend any time together."

His eyes widened in surprise. "That's not true, Y/N. We're here now, aren't we?"

Y/N shook their head. "One dinner doesn't make up for all the times you've been absent. Do you even know what my favorite drink is? Or how my day went?"

Theodore opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, a look of realization dawning on his face. "I... I guess I haven't been around much, have I?"

"No, you haven't," Y/N replied, their voice tinged with sadness. "You used to be my best friend, Theo. Now I feel like I'm just an afterthought."

He reached across the table, taking Y/N's hand in his. "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. I've been so caught up with everything else that I didn't realize how distant I've become."

Y/N's eyes softened, but they didn't pull their hand away. "I miss you, Theo. The real you. Not the one who's always busy with everyone else."

Theodore squeezed their hand gently. "I'll make it up to you. I promise. Let's start over, right here, right now. No more distractions. Just you and me."

Y/N felt a glimmer of hope at his words. "You can change if you mean your word no empty promises."

He nodded earnestly. "I do and I will change, Y/N. Every little detail."

A small smile tugged at Y/N's lips as they finally felt the walls around their heart begin to crumble. "Okay, Theo. Let's start over."

The evening carried on, but this time, it was different. Theodore listened intently as Y/N talked, and for the first time in a long time, they felt truly seen. It wasn't a perfect fix, but it was a start. And that was enough for now.

Days turned into weeks, and Theodore kept his promise. He showed up on time for their dates, texted more often, and made an effort to be present. He started paying attention to the little things, like Y/N’s favorite flowers or the way they liked their coffee.

One Saturday afternoon, Theodore surprised Y/N with a picnic in a secluded part of the Hogwarts grounds. The summer sun bathed the landscape in a warm glow as they settled on a checkered blanket. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead, and the sound of the Black Lake's gentle waves created a soothing backdrop.

Y/N looked around, taking in the thoughtful details. "You remembered I love picnics."

Theodore grinned, a bit of pride shining in his eyes. "Of course. I’ve been paying attention."

They unpacked the basket, laying out sandwiches, fruit, and Y/N’s favorite chocolate-covered strawberries. As they ate, the conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and shared memories. It felt like old times, and Y/N’s heart swelled with a mixture of relief and happiness.

After they finished eating, Theodore leaned back on his elbows, gazing up at the sky. "I've missed this," he admitted. "Just being with you, no distractions."

Y/N looked at him, their heart aching with a mix of emotions. "I’ve missed it too. But I need to know this isn’t just temporary. I need to know you’re really here for me."

Theodore sat up, taking Y/N’s hand in his. His expression was serious, sincere. "I know I’ve messed up, Y/N. I let my friendships and other things get in the way of what’s really important. You. Us. I’m not perfect, and I’ll probably mess up again, but I promise to always try to make it right."

Y/N studied his face, searching for any hint of doubt or insincerity. All they saw was the boy they fell in love with, the one who made them feel special and cherished. "Okay, Theo. I believe you."

His smile was radiant, filled with relief and joy. "Thank you. I won’t let you down."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in a blissful haze, talking about everything and nothing, simply enjoying each other’s company. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Theodore wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling them close.

"This is just the beginning," he murmured. "I want to make new memories with you, ones we can look back on and smile."

Y/N nestled into his side, feeling a warmth spread through them that had been absent for too long. "I’d like that."

And as the stars began to twinkle overhead, they knew that this time, things would be different. They were both ready to put in the effort, to make their relationship stronger than ever. Together, they would navigate the challenges and celebrate the joys, side by side.

[mrmeowski]

🔞˚✦𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒: 𝐄𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦 | 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐧✦˚🔞

Synopsis: As your birthday drew near, Satan had been planning a surprise for you, a serene picnic date where you could spend some quality time together. As time went by, it seemed he had other ideas in mind on how to spend the remaining daylight.

CW: Public sex, nipple sucking & pinching, cowgirl, mating press, creampie

Pairing/s: Satan x F.Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Day 3: Shower Sex | Leviathan»

You sat together on the blanket, surrounded by the serene atmosphere of the park, Satan couldn't help but gaze at you with adoration. Your birthday was nearing, and he wanted to make this picnic date one to remember, despite knowing that his brothers would soon rear their ugly heads.

"Did you enjoy it, my kitten?" He asked as he gently fixed a stray hair that had escaped your ponytail, tucking it behind your ear.

You giggled, "Yes! I loved it all!" Your eyes sparkled with delight as you raised both hands up to the sky, taking in a deep breath of the fresh air. "I do miss being here. I mean, it's beautiful in Devildom, but it still feels different back here." His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, gaze never leaving yours.

He leaned in closer, "I'm glad you're enjoying it, my kitten. But I have to say, I'm enjoying the view even more." Running his thumb over your cheek he grinned mischievously.

You looked back at him, your eyes meeting his, and chuckled sheepishly when you noticed he was gazing at you as he said so. You glanced away, missing the dark glint that flashed between his adoring green eyes.

The air seemed to thicken with tension as his gaze lingered on you, his eyes roving over your face, your chest, and your entire body. 

"Well..." His words were dripping with honey, "Will I not get anything for a thanks?"

 "A thanks?" You echoed the question. "What do you have in mind, hm?" You leaned in closer, your faces inches from each other.

His eyes seemed to gleam with excitement as he raised his other hand, and cupped your left cheek, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw.

"Hmm... I have so many ideas... so many wants," he purred. While his free hand grabbed one of yours, guiding it closer to his bulge. You could feel the heat of his erection pressing against your palm. "But I suppose we can start with this..." He let out a soft sigh.

Your breath hitched, your face reddening in a blink of an eye. "W-Wait—we're in public Satan! You shouldn't... you can't just do this here!" You tried to pull your hand back, but his grip was like a vice, holding you in place.

Soft kisses on your cheeks, slowly guiding down onto your neck, sent a wave of pleasure through your body. 

"Shhh..." His warm breath brushed against your skin. "If you be quiet no one will hear us. Unless... you want everyone to know how much I love you~" He giggled, lovingly sucking the sensitive part of your neck.

You bit your lips, trying to stop any noises that might attract unwanted attention. All his words were laced with a hint of mischief, and you knew that he was determined to make you scream with pleasure.

"A shame... but it doesn't matter." Emerald orbs gleamed with intensity. He pushed you onto the ground, both his arms on either side of you, trapping you. "I'll still show you how much you mean to me." His gaze seemed to bore into your soul, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Without warning, he captured your lips in a heated and passionate kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and exploring every part of it. His hands moved on their own, eagerly freeing his hardened cock, already glistening with precum.

You felt a jolt of electricity as he hastily removed your skirt and pretty much ripped your panties off, the sound of the fabric tearing sending a shiver down your spine.

Then he pushed aside your hips, making space for him. But he was being the tease he always was, brushing the tip of his cock against your entrance, causing you to whine in frustration. You were so ready to be filled by him, to feel him inside you, but he seemed to be taking his sweet time.

"Sataaan..." You whispered, ready for it to be done as quickly as possible given the situation.

"So needy... makes me want to toy with you more," he purred, reaching up and unbuttoning your blouse, pushing your bra downwards before sucking one of your breasts into his mouth.

The other toyed with by his hands, his fingers pinching your nipples and sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

"A-Ah..!" You cried out, covering your mouth with your hand to stifle the sound. You didn't dare look at him, but you knew he was grinning.

At once, he swiftly pushed his entire length into you causing you to gasp out. You kicked your legs in the air as you cried out, "Aaah!" Voice muffled by your own hand, but still loud enough to be heard. "Mmhm.. mm..." Feeling each of his veins as he pulsed inside you.

You could hear the soft purr erupting from his throat, a sound that sent shivers down your spine.

His pace was slow, but deep, each thrust designed to maximize your pleasure. He seemed to be savoring the sensation of being inside you, his eyes closed in ecstasy as he moved.

"My kitten... you feel so good," he whispered, his voice husky. "So tight, so warm... I could stay inside you forever."

His hand then traced towards your back, his face now locked onto your neck, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. He suddenly pulled you onto his lap, his other hand gripping your hips, bouncing you on his dick. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, holding on tight as he began to move you up and down.

You had the perfect view of the park, but fortunately, there were very few people around your area. However, you were still unable to look around to see if someone was walking by, and instead, you buried your head into his hair.

"F-Fuck..." you cursed onto his golden locks, the sensation of his dick sending waves of pleasure through your body.

The demon's laughter was low, "You like that, my kitten?" He whispered against your skin, "You like being fucked in public, where anyone can see us?" You could barely lift your head or open your mouth to make a cohesive sentence, all that came out were moans and whines.

This only seemed to make his grin wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Your beautiful sounds, slightly muffled by his hair, had become louder than before, and he seemed to be feeding off of them.

Whenever he wondered if someone was watching, it gave him even more energy to push on and pound your insides until you were all but begging for mercy.

"Ah, my kitten, you're so loud," he teased.

As he spoke, he began to pound into you even harder, his thrusts becoming more rapid and intense. You felt like you were being torn apart.

Just as you thought you were about to come, his body tensed up, and he let out a loud groan. You felt his hot cum painting your pink gummy walls.

As you lay there, limping and exhausted, you heard the sounds of people talking in the distance and your heart dropped off your chest but at the same time... you were a bit excited. His eyes lit up with excitement, and he grinned at you mischievously.

"Shall we give them another show?"

Request» Masterlist»

*•.𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃.•*

Day 5: Praise Kink | Asmodeus»

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

A Curse [Chapter 2: Harbor Gateway]

A/N: Thank you for the warm welcome you have given this series!!! I am sick with bronchitis currently so this has been a big bright spot in an otherwise miserable week 😅 I can't wait to show you where this story is going, I hope you're ready for it 🥰💜

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent...at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon's right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, a tiny bit of sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap relationship, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, ice cream, judgmental parents, aggressive Akitas, we're literally in Minnesota!!!

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

Afterwards, Mason pulls his clothes back on as you are absentmindedly drawing stars in the steam on the windows of his Chevy Silverado. On the other side of the glass is inky Minnesota night, a full moon dissolving away, glowing freckles of constellations. You’re staying with your parents and Mason has roommates, so the truck was the expedient choice. It was good, not that you finished; you didn’t say anything, he didn’t ask, but even if he had you would have told him not to worry about it. It can take forever, especially with an audience. You’d rather wait until you’re alone.

Mason glances down at the used condom on the floor of his Silverado, hastily discarded, viscerally slick in a way that becomes sickening in the letdown, as the endorphins and the adrenaline slip away and the blood pumps slow and unclouded. He smirks as he asks: “You sure you don’t want to get back on the pill?”

You sigh, drawing another star. You are still naked and sprawled across the back seat, glistening with sweat in the moonlight. “Well I tried three different prescriptions and had three miserable experiences, and I’m really not interested in playing side effect roulette again. And I can’t risk my skin going insane and random bleeding when I’m running around all over L.A. trying to get parts.”

“What about that little sperm assassin T-shaped thing?”

You look at him. “An IUD?”

“Yeah.”

You wince, engraving another star into the steam on the window. “I don’t think I like the idea of having a piece of metal shoved up inside me.”

He laughs. “But you’ll get silicone implants?”

You shrug; you can’t deny the irony. “I don’t need an IUD to be an actress.”

“Look, I’m not complaining about the tits thing,” Mason says, holding up his hands. “Obviously I’d enjoy them too. And you’d still have them when you move home, so it’s not a waste even if the acting thing doesn’t work out.”

You already know he feels this way, and yet still, it hurts. “When I move home?”

He smiles and crawls back on top of you, his Carleton College hoodie whispering against your belly and chest, soft royal blue cotton on damp skin. He had been a Political Science and International Relations major who took Theater Arts 195: Acting Shakespeare for an arts credit. He was beyond terrible and had no appreciation for the field whatsoever, but he was tall and strong and jolly, an earnest corn-fed Midwestern boy, and when one day after class he’d asked if he could take you to Culver’s for a burger and frozen custard, you’d said yes.

Here and now, in the back seat of his Chevy Silverado, Mason kisses your forehead. Then he ghosts his thumb over the ridge of your orbital socket and cheekbone, where your dark glittery eyeshadow has smudged like a spreading bruise: Galaxy by Anastasia Beverly Hills, Elysian by Natasha Denona. “I’m not saying you aren’t good. But how many people on this planet get to be movie stars? It’s just not realistic. And it’s about so much more than talent. It’s about who you know, and luck, and chemistry, and looks, and a bunch of other things that are mostly out of your control. You’re never going to be the type of girl who’s an influencer or winning Miss America, you’re just not. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t very, very pretty. And I loved you anyway.”

Loved, past tense. You and Mason stopped using that word a year ago; now the nostalgia is painting memories like the walls of an old house. His memories, anyway. You sit up and start yanking on your clothes: oversized yellow Santa Monica crewneck, black sweatpants with elastic cuffs at the ankles. “I think I’m going to get the gummy bear implants.”

Mason licks his lips. “Yum.”

“They’re a type of silicone, but they’re supposed to feel more natural and be less dangerous if they rupture.”

“Will you have scars?” he says as if the notion has just occurred to him, troubled, perhaps a little revolted.

“Well yeah, they have to end up under my skin somehow.”

Mason shudders, then he has another thought. “Who’s going to take care of you after surgery when you’re all sore and zonked out on opioids?”

“My roommate Baela said she would. She’s had friends who have gone through it already.”

“Okay, good. I wouldn’t want you to be alone out there.” Mason touches the back of your head, a quick fond gesture. He’s the only man you’ve ever been with, and even that took a while, months of trying to envision him undressing you before you were sure you could do it without flinching, without being afraid or shy or bewildered. But in the end it had been easy, always easy, which is why you keep coming back to him like a comet. Your elliptical orbit takes you far away and then close again, and such natural patterns are effortless to keep.

You say, the edges of your lips curling into a furtive smile: “I’m definitely not alone.”

Mason groans. “You’re going to hook up with that new agent guy, aren’t you?”

“What? No! No way, he has a fiancée.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s more amused than annoyed. “Okay, whatever.”

“You know I don’t date anyone.” Which is why each time you’re home visiting, Mason gets a text: Want to get lunch at Culver’s? or Can you drive me to Target? or Pick me up around 9 p.m.?

Mason smirks and taunts: “I don’t know, with the way you talk about him you sound kind of obsessed.”

“I’m just grateful. Someone finally gave me a chance.” You look to the window; the steam and your hand-drawn stars have evaporated away. “And yeah, he’s interesting and he’s cute, and he’s kind of mean but then unexpectedly caring sometimes, and I think he’s one of those people who are really good at what they do but only when they’re inspired…but that doesn’t mean I’m into him romantically.” A pause. “And even if I was, there’s no harm in a super-secret, one-sided crush.”

“Okay. Have fun with all the adulterous sex.”

You chuckle. “Thanks, but that is not the plan.” You slip on your flip-flops, shimmy out of the back seat, and trot around the Silverado to the passenger’s door. Mason climbs into the driver’s seat and turns his key in the ignition. You ask: “What happened to that ballerina girl who was in your Instagram stories for a while?”

“Had to ghost her, she got super clingy and controlling. She was texting me at work all the time and got pissed off when I was putting a ton of hours into that election thing for CNN.” Mason is a political analyst. He turns to you. “You ever feel like people are the best versions of themselves before you really know them? Then you get too close and all the cracks start showing.”

“I think people are wonderful. You just have to find the ones you click with.”

“I should have figured you’d say something like that.” He steers his truck out of the otherwise empty parking lot in Lac Lavon Park. “I’m looking forward to you being home again.”

“I’m not.”

You both laugh, and then Mason drives you to your parents’ house.

At the dining room table, Mom and Clara are researching wedding venues, vast countryside estates and metropolitan historic hotels. Clara got engaged two weeks ago during a vacation to Turks and Caicos. In the living room, Dad and Tripp are watching commentary on the NBA Finals. Tripp’s name isn’t really Tripp; he is the third James in a row, named after your father and grandfather, and Tripp is short for triple. All over the house, there are Akitas lolling in plush dog beds and clicking around on Brazilian Cherry hardwood floors. They have faces like teddy bears, but their dark eyes track you mistrustfully, as if you are an intruder.

No one asks where you have been. They barely acknowledge that you are back. “Hello, dear,” your mother calls distractedly from the dining room, and that’s all. You jog upstairs to the bathroom you share with Clara before anyone can notice your smeared makeup and the unsavory post-car-sex sweat gleaming on your skin. You get into the shower, turn on water so hot it is nearly scalding, and close your eyes. With your back pressed to the jade green tiles, your hand wanders down over your belly and stops between your legs. Your mind cycles through fantasies, but nothing seems to be working.

It’s not real. It can’t hurt anybody.

You imagine that Aegon is the one touching you, and in under a minute it’s over.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I want there to be horses,” Clara says, scrolling through her phone and ignoring the food on her plate: roast chicken, homemade mashed potatoes, green beans sauteed in garlic and olive oil, panzanella salad. Mom prepared it all herself, not because there was no help available—your parents have a housekeeper named Angela who comes by several days per week—but to prove she could. In the living room are shelves heavy with books by Martha Stewart, Ina Garten, Cat Cora, Julia Child, Nigella Lawson. You hear echoes of ambient clicking, Akitas meandering down hallways and staircases.

“Horses?!” Tripp replies with a mouthful of mashed potatoes, gesturing to the sliding glass door. “Don’t you get enough horses in your everyday life? Don’t you have like five right out there?” Your parents’ house sits on ten acres of land, including a barn and several paddocks for Clara’s rescued Thoroughbreds.

“I want beautiful horses,” Clara insists. “Unusual, photogenic, so they can be in the background of all the photos. Maybe Friesians or Haflingers?”

“I’m not sure we can sort the venues by types of horses available, dear,” Mom says. All that’s on her own plate is a heap of green beans and a few pieces of skinless white meat chicken.

Clara moans and drops her face into her hands. “It’s so overwhelming!”

“You’ll find a place you like, Clara Bear,” Dad says mildly, painstakingly slicing meat off a drumstick with his fork and knife.

“And Owen is no help at all. Every time I ask for his opinion he just tells me to do whatever I think is best, but I don’t know what’s best, that’s why I’m asking him!”

Your mother pats Clara’s shoulder reassuringly. “Guys don’t care about weddings,” Tripp says, twisting around in his chair to see the television in the living room. On a rerun of E! News, the hosts are discussing Chris Hemsworth’s rigorous fitness regime and Meghan Trainor’s “mommy makeover.” You peek under the tablecloth. One of the Akitas, Yuki, is glaring as she waits for you to drop something for her to eat.

“You could do something like that,” Mom says to you, and you realize you haven’t been listening to the conversation.

“Sorry, do what?”

“You could be a wedding planner or a real estate agent. Those are actual careers, but there’s more creativity involved, isn’t there? And didn’t you take a design class in college? That would certainly come in handy.”

“Hm,” your father says with a frown, still dissecting his chicken. He would rather you go to law school like Tripp. You would rather lie down in traffic.

“I took a set design class, Mom. Because I was studying how to be an actress. And that’s what I’m doing right now in Los Angeles, trying to be an actress.”

“You could become an architect!” Mom bursts out with sudden enthusiasm. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

You titter evasively. “I can’t draw, Mom. Or use the modeling software, or do math.”

“You know, you don’t need any specific degree to get into law school,” Tripp says, and your father gives him a nod of approval. “You could have majored in dance or bagpiping or Egyptology, it doesn’t matter. All they want is a high undergrad GPA and a 168+ LSAT score, and I bet you could get that if you studied. You can even retake the test a few times if you need to.”

“Why do you do that?” Clara snaps at him. You eat your panzanella salad and pretend not to be listening. Beneath the tablecloth, Yuki growls. You toss her a few cubes of Italian bread so she won’t bite you.

Tripp shovels mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Do what?”

“Why are you always wasting your time trying to convince her to grow up and get a real job? If she wants to embarrass herself, let her. I have problems that I’m trying to solve, so how about applying yourself to those instead?”

“Are you serious? You think I should be calling around to wedding venues asking about their selection of exotic draft horses?”

Clara aggressively stabs at her green beans with her fork. “Fuck off, Tripp.”

“Hey, hey, kids, no swearing,” your mother says. “It’s Father’s Day. Be respectful.”

Dad turns to you. “You could be an entertainment lawyer, how about that? You could work in intellectual property or negotiating contracts.”

You smile warily. “I’ll think about it, Dad.”

Clara says to your parents: “Well I hope all the money you’re throwing out the window to support her in California isn’t coming out of my wedding fund.”

You close your eyes and think: I can’t spend my life in a cubical. I can’t spend every minute of every day trying to forget who I am.

“Shh, shh,” your mother pleads, rubbing the back of Clara’s clenched hand. “You will get exactly what we promised you, that amount is still set aside for your wedding. Nothing she does affects you.”

“And it’s only until the end of the year,” your father adds. “Then the vacation is over.” Then the meager allowance they are funneling to you will stop and you will be ordered to return home to pursue an honorable course of existence. You have six months to succeed in Hollywood, or the dream dies.

Your father is now asking Tripp about his summer associate position at Latham & Watkins in Chicago. Your mother is advising Clara to get a wedding dress with a corset back so it can be adjusted in the event she gains or loses weight at the last minute. Underneath the table, Yuki is growling again; she noses your knees threateningly.

“I got an agent,” you say, and everyone looks at you.

“Really?” Mom asks, sounding a little perplexed.

“Who is it?” Dad says.

“Aegon Targaryen. He has a small office in Elysian Park.”

“Oh, I think I recognize the last name.”

“His family is in the industry.” You are beaming; you can feel the heat rising in your face. “But Aegon kind of does his own thing and tries to stay out of the limelight. He was an actor when he was my age. And I guess he thinks I can get roles, so that’s really exciting.”

Your mother seems concerned as she nibbles at a shred of white meat. “Is he an older man?”

“Not that much older. He’s thirty-five.”

“Well, be careful, darling,” your father says gravely. “Who knows what his intentions are.”

Clara evidently agrees. “Men can be so creepy. I had this one professor in pharmacy school who cheated on his wife with one student, then cheated on her six months later with a different student. And then he retired to Boca Raton and was never heard from again.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Tripp says to your father. “We read about Clinton v. Jones in torts class, it was wild, I didn’t know he was such a freak even before the Monica Lewinsky thing…”

After dinner, while your father and Tripp are flipping through television channels in the living room and Clara is upstairs on the phone with Owen, you go to the kitchen where your mother is washing dishes in a bubble-filled sink. Again, she doesn’t have to do this; Angela will be here to clean the house tomorrow. But it’s part of being a perfect homemaker, and if she’s not good at this then she’s not good at anything.

She glances over when she hears you come in. “Did you get an appointment with one of the doctors your father recommended?”

“I did, yeah. I have a consultation on Friday.” You lean against the marble countertop and cross your arms so you don’t fidget nervously. From a dog bed on the floor, Mochi glowers at you. “Do you think I should get the surgery?”

She shrugs; you’re not certain if she is more indecisive or apathetic. “Your cousin Madison had a nose job the summer before college. Your old classmate Emma got a blepharoplasty and then met her husband three months later. Practically all of my friends have had breast augmentations, and I’ve certainly never regretted mine. I think if you’re going to get anything fixed, it makes sense to pick that.”

You try again to elicit a strong opinion, whether an endorsement or objection. “I don’t think I’d want to do it if I didn’t feel like it was necessary to be an actress.”

“Well, regardless of whatever you have going on in California, you’ll either have to get them done now or after you have children,” Mom says. “I love you and Clara and Tripp, but you destroyed my body. At least doctors can repair breasts. My bladder is still useless.”

You stare at Mochi distractedly. The dog huffs, unwelcoming. “What was the recovery like?”

“Oh, hell,” your mother says. “But once you heal up it’s worth it. I can wear square necklines and strapless dresses again.”

“Technically, you could have worn whatever you wanted.”

She gives you an impatient look, a you’re too old for that sort of frustration. “No one wants to see some sad flabby woman.” She is including your father in this statement. You remember being home for Thanksgiving Break during your freshman year at Carleton and inadvertently stumbling upon emails from one of the hospital interns when you used his laptop to buy movie tickets: indecent inuendoes, flirtatious photos, no smoking gun but certainly more than was appropriate between colleagues. You had tried to tell your mother, and she had deflected over and over again until you realized that she didn’t want to know; it was easier to be carried by the currents of momentum than to rock the boat until it sank. “This agent of yours…is he celebrating Father’s Day with his family?”

“No, Aegon lost his dad when he was in college.”

“That must have been difficult,” she says vaguely as she scrubs a pot with a green Scotch-Brite dish wand. Your parents are now at the age when their friends have begun to succumb to strokes and heart disease and cancers, and the lurking specter of mortality both horrifies and fascinates them. “What did he die of?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Mom?!” Clara shouts from upstairs. “Osaka is puking in the hallway!”

Your mother sighs and dries her hands on a dish towel, then leaves you alone in the kitchen. You linger there for a while, listening to the faint drone of CNN from the living room television, then leave the house through the sliding glass door in the dining room. Outside the sun is setting, and you gaze westward as the aging daylight turns the tall green grass and silhouettes of horses to gold like the mines that first brought settlers to California. You slide your phone out of the pocket of your denim shorts and take a photo, then post it to your Instagram story with the caption Home and a smiley face emoji.

A minute later, you receive a DM. Aegon has typed: This explains the big horse girl energy

You laugh and respond: They belong to my sister, I am personally very anti-horse

You hope he’ll continue the conversation. You don’t have to wait long. How’s Minnesota? Aegon asks.

You stop and consider how to answer, then decide not to overshare. Devoid of palm trees…but good!

There is a pause—perhaps thirty seconds—and then Aegon types: How’s the ex-boyfriend?

Is he curious or jealous? You smile. Still not standing in the way of anything :)

Aegon reacts with a heart emoji, then immediately switches it to a thumbs-up. You cannot ignore the wave of warmth and fondness and exhilaration that overwhelms you. Logically, you know he’s engaged to another woman. Emotionally, it doesn’t seem relevant.

You think: It’s just a crush. It can’t hurt anybody.

Then you remember what your mother asked, and as you stand outside in the fading dusk light you Google Aegon’s father Viserys Targaryen. He has his own Wikipedia page. You scroll to the bottom, where it reads in nondescript black letters: On October 27, 2009, Targaryen passed away at his Malibu residence after a long illness.

~~~~~~~~~~

You have just finished ringing up a Like It-sized Apple Pie A La Cold Stone when Josh says: “Hey, there’s an old guy asking for you.”

“What?” You look towards the ice cream freezer and there he is, dark jeans, green Nike Killshots, a yellow Hawaiian shirt that’s too big for him. “It’s my agent!” you shout as you rush over to meet him, loud enough that everyone in the shop turns to stare.

“Shh,” Aegon says, but he’s laughing.

“What are you doing here?” you ask from behind the counter.

“I got some good news, and I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Cool! Should I make you ice cream first?”

“Um, sure.” Aegon surveys the menu of Signature Creations. He seems overwhelmed; he actually looks a little panicked.

“Are you usually a chocolate or vanilla person? Or peanut butter, or coffee? Or mint?”

“Strawberry,” Aegon says.

“Strawberry,” you echo, surprised. “Okay, I think you’ll like Our Strawberry Blonde.”

“Neat.”

“Because, you know, it has strawberries and you’re blonde.”

“Sounds literally perfect for me,” Aegon says, smiling.

“What size?”

“Uh…” He reads the labels on the cups in the display case. “The big one.”

“No, you have to say the real name.”

He chuckles. His cheeks are pink, his turbulent blue eyes sparkling. “I’m not saying that.”

“Then I’m not making you ice cream!”

He groans. “I want an Our Strawberry Blonde in the size Gotta Have It.”

“Cup, cone, or waffle cone bowl?”

“Stop asking me questions or you’re fired.”

“Waffle cone bowl,” you decide. Aegon studies you as you work, his head tilted thoughtfully to the side: scraping a mound of strawberry ice cream out of the freezer with your metal spatulas, taking it to the cold countertop, and smashing in graham cracker pie crust, caramel, fluffy whipped topping, and fresh strawberries. You use one of the spatulas to expertly scoop the mixture into a waffle cone bowl, not spilling a drop. Then you hand Aegon his ice cream and ring him up at the cash register. He pays in cash.

You ask Josh, the manager on duty, if you can take your fifteen-minute break now. He frowns. “I thought you were going to refill the yellow cake and Oreo cookie mix-ins first.”

“Hey,” Aegon says. He waves a ten-dollar bill in the air to show it to Josh and then dunks it in the tip jar. “Do it yourself.”

“Fine,” Josh mutters to you. “But you don’t get a second over fifteen minutes.”

There’s no time to waste. You hurry to a small table by the window. It’s 8:30 p.m., and outside the world is indigo-dark and threaded with inorganic sparks of headlights, streetlights, kaleidoscopic neon signs. Your eyeshadow is vibrant and pink, because no one cares about that when you work at an ice cream shop: Push by Natasha Denona, Coax by Urban Decay.

Aegon takes his first taste of his ice cream as he sits down in the chair across from you. “You were right, this is delicious. A bop, not a flop.” Then he notices the bruise on your right wrist. “What the hell happened to your hand?”

“Oh. One of the Akitas bit me. Don��t worry, I can cover it up with concealer.”

Aegon is irritated. “Why is your mother letting her Akitas bite you?”

“It was my fault. I forgot that Oni doesn’t like when people pet his feet.”

Aegon sighs, stirring his Our Strawberry Blonde. “You want some of this?”

“I can’t,” you say reluctantly.

He raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“I already had a little cup when I got here this afternoon so I have regrettably hit my ice cream quota for the day.” And then, when Aegon clearly does not approve: “I try not to restrict too much but obviously staying the same size takes effort. That’s not a disorder, it’s just reality.”

Aegon seems to debate arguing, then instead scoops up a heaping spoonful of ice cream and holds it out across the table. “Come on. It doesn’t count if it’s on my spoon.”

You smile sheepishly and open your mouth for him. Your lips close around the plastic spoon: coldness, sweetness, the grit of pulverized graham cracker pie crust, the infinitesimal black seeds of strawberries that catch between your teeth. When Aegon begins to pull it away, you grab his hand and don’t let go until you’ve licked the spoon clean. He laughs hysterically as he watches you. “I haven’t had strawberry ice cream in forever,” you say.

“Don’t tell me you’re a vanilla girl.”

“I am,” you confess. “I know the joke. But I really do always get the vanilla-adjacent flavors. Cookie dough, French vanilla, sweet cream, cheesecake…”

Aegon smirks playfully. “Pathetic.”

“So you’re an enlightened being because you eat strawberry ice cream.”

“Boring people like vanilla. Kids like chocolate. Interesting adults like strawberry.”

“Do you actually have good news for me or did you just come here to be a ghoul?”

“I got you a part.”

“What?!” you squeal, and people are gawking again. This time, Aegon doesn’t tell you to be quiet. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he replies, grinning like he can’t help it.

“A part in what?”

“It’s small,” Aegon warns. “It’s an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.”

You scream; Josh scowls at you from behind the counter. “Oh my God, no way, no way!”

“You’re going to be the wife of a guy the doctors kill with negligence. Three scenes, two are pretty short and unremarkable but then you get to yell at the surgeon in the last one. Gives you the opportunity to show some range and make an impression.”

You can’t believe this is happening. “They aren’t going to make me audition first?”

“Well…it’s very last-minute,” Aegon says. “The actress who was supposed to do it has a drug problem or something, I guess, so she ghosted and they were scrambling for a replacement. And I completely fabricated your credentials.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, I typed up a resume and sent it over and they loved it. So try not to talk about your actual experience because none of it will match.”

You shake your head, stunned, amazed. “What if they try to contact one of my alleged former employers?”

“Then they’ll be talking to Aemond, and he will lie and say you were an absolute pleasure to work with.”

Aemond Targaryen: Aegon’s younger brother, a screenwriter, a philanthropist, a well-respected entity in Hollywood, and you know this from the Googling that preceded your first meeting with Aegon last week. “And Aemond doesn’t mind helping you commit fraud?”

“It’s not a favor I call in very often.” Aegon finishes his ice cream, then begins breaking apart the waffle cone bowl and shoving shard-like pieces into his mouth.

“When’s the shoot?”

“Very very early on Thursday, that’s the bad news.” Thursday is two days from now. “So I’ll have to pick you up at your apartment at like 5 a.m.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be ready.”

He smiles, gnawing on a chunk of his waffle cone bowl. “I figured.”

“You’re going too?” The hope is unmistakable in your voice.

“Of course I’m going.”

“I didn’t think agents usually went to film shoots.”

“Well, fortunately for you, your agent is imminently fleeing Los Angeles and has already parted ways with most of his clients and really has nothing else going on besides hiding in his office and playing a Nintendo 64, so I figured I could make it. And also if I’m going to be enthusiastically recommending you to people, I should probably see you work at some point.”

You wiggle your eyebrows flirtatiously. “Do I get to make out with my fake husband?”

Aegon is amused. “From what I understand, you get to chastely kiss him once. They’re sending the script over to my office first thing in the morning, so you’ll only have a day to learn your lines.”

“That’s enough time. I’ll make it work.”

“Always so agreeable,” Aegon muses. So desperate is more like it.

Thursday. “Is the shoot just one day?”

“Yeah, they should be able to get everything they need from you on Thursday morning. Why?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment on Friday and I was just wondering if I’d have to reschedule it.”

Aegon is immediately vigilant. “What kind of appointment?”

“Uh…” You smirk guiltily. “It’s just a consultation. No slicing yet.”

“And you’re going to cancel that,” Aegon says flatly.

“Seriously?”

“Do you want implants because you want them or because you think other people want you to have them?”

You hesitate. “Both.” That’s probably a lie.

Aegon leans back in his chair and studies you. “Yeah, you’re cancelling that appointment.”

“Why?”

“Because when I agreed to sign you, you told me that you’d do anything I say. And I’m telling you to cancel it.”

“But why don’t you want me to get implants? Everyone gets implants.”

“Because once you begin to treat scalpels and needles as prescriptions for everything you don’t like about yourself—or everything that other people don’t like about you—it’s very difficult to stop. First it’s your tits, then it’s your eyes and your nose, then it’s your chin and your cheeks and your neck and your ass, and it’s just this revolving door of painful, dangerous, unnecessary procedures that are condemning you for being mortal, that are carving away your humanity one incision at a time. I’ve seen it happen to more people than I could count, and I don’t want it to happen to you. Because you seem very, very human, and I’d like you to stay that way. Which means you don’t cut yourself up because some agent or producer or casting director told you to.” Then he adds, perhaps as an afterthought: “And anyway, you don’t need implants.”

You smile, then reply quietly: “You’ve never seen me.”

Aegon grins. “I don’t care if you have twelve nipples under there like a fucking beagle, you don’t need plastic surgery.”

You both laugh, and the tension evaporates, and even if you don’t cancel the appointment—Aegon is one person, the entertainment industry is omnipotent and eternal—you are glad he seems to like you the way you are. Behind the counter, Josh is waving manically to get your attention and summon you to return to work. You pretend not to see him.

Aegon asks: “Why don’t you like horses?”

“They freak me out. They’re all teeth and legs and they’re huge, I’m always scared they’ll step on me.”

“Your dad’s a doctor, right? I thought all rich girls had horses.”

“Where I’m from, a lot of women ride horses to distract themselves from the fact that their husbands are riding their receptionists or interns. I’d rather have no horse and no awful cheating husband.” And Aegon stares at you and turns serious, because perhaps you’ve inadvertently addressed the elephant in the room: he has a fiancée, and neither of you are acting like she exists. You swiftly pivot. “I’ll make an exception for you, though.”

He appears startled. “What?”

“The Chinese zodiac. You’re a horse. So you’re the only horse I like.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Aegon chuckles uneasily and gets up to throw his trash away, then stands under the florescent lights with his hands in his pockets, his blonde hair falling out of its gel and hanging over his forehead. He gazes down at you pensively; you are still seated at the table. “When does your shift end?”

“I’m closing tonight, so I’ll be done around 10:30 or 11.”

“Okay. Can I come back to pick you up and drive you home?”

You are puzzled. “Why?”

He gestures to the inky dark window, incredulous. “Because obviously you shouldn’t be walking alone in Harbor Gateway at midnight? You know there was a shooting a block from here last week. I looked it up.”

“I walk home all the time.”

“You really need to stop doing that.”

“You are being very dramatic for a non-actor.”

“Listen, I can’t go to my house and try to fall asleep while I’m wondering if you’re getting mugged or murdered.”

You look at Aegon. He does seem genuinely worried. “You can drive me home.”

“Great. See you in two hours.” He strides away and shoves open the glass door; the little metal bells hanging there jingle.

“Aegon?”

He halts mid-step and turns around. “Yeah?”

“Does Becca know where you are right now?”

His face is some amalgamation of emotions you can’t read, and this is unusual.“Why do you think I paid in cash?”

And before you can reply, he’s gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

On Thursday, June 19th, Aegon picks you up in his white Chrysler Sebring convertible while the city is still asleep. The sky is dark, the streetlights passing by overhead, infinite pinpoint supernovas. There are hardly any other cars on the road. Aegon’s hair is a mess and his eyes are bleary; he’s sipping a Starbucks coffee with one hand and holding the steering wheel with the other. He is wearing a suit, but he still manages to look unpolished, his white shirt half-untucked and his black tie too skinny. He sets his coffee down in one of the cup holders and passes you something venti-sized and iced.

“I got you a vanilla latte, vanilla girl.”

“Aw, thanks! Skim milk?”

“Nope,” he says, smiling. You smile back and take a gulp of it, cold and sweet and bracing. “What’s your hype song?”

“I can’t tell you,” you say, embarrassed.

“Why not?”

“You’re going to terrorize me.”

“Don’t Stop Believing? Don’t Stop Me Now? I Gotta Feeling?”

“Lose Yourself.”

Aegon throws back his head and cackles, his hair flying in the wind. “That’s definitely a fireable offense. I’m ditching you the second we finish this shoot.” But he taps around on his phone and plugs in the aux, and then Eminem is thudding through the speakers as the Sebring sails north and the red-gold dawn rises on the horizon, a celestial message from the East Coast, an omen from the future.

Aegon drives you to Prospect Studios in Los Feliz, just east of Hollywood. Filming will be indoors on a soundstage. You spend what feels like forever in hair and makeup, and the costume designer—who had prepared for a different actress—dresses and redresses you over and over again, frowning at your chest and waist and thighs, and you have a sudden pang of nauseating panic and dread: I don’t belong here. What the fuck was I thinking?

Then you are in the scenes under intensely radiant artificial light, and just like it did in your roles back in Minnesota, the real world vanishes and all that exists are these characters, these moments, and your body and mind become theirs, and perhaps even your soul too. Your husband is handsome and kind, and here in this liminal fictional space you love him, and when the surgeons wheel him off to the operating room you are full of blind naïve surety. Then the doctors update you on his condition and you are still hopeful, but it becomes a fragile thing, like something that shatters when it’s dropped from a height. And then he is dead, he has been taken away from you, he has been stolen, and you are eclipsed by a blood-red wrath that is animalistic and unforgiving. After each take when you are ripped back through the veil and into reality, you can’t remember exactly what you did or said, and the director doesn’t have many critiques so you aren’t sure how it’s going.

But when it’s over, while you are still standing on the soundstage with the other actors, Aegon puts on his sunglasses and smiles at you from across the room; and you remember what he said outside his office on the day you first met—you are so bright, sunshine—and you know you’ve done a good job.

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Hi I really love your writing! Not sure if you are taking any prompts, no worries if not!

I was wondering if you could something with Melissa x reader similar to Janine and Gregory where they both work at the school and maybe the reader is dating someone but they have a moment like the club scene or PECSA weekend.

Hope you're having a good day lovely human!

Not dead! Nor have I given up on writing or filling the prompts I still have to fill! But a weird thing did happen - I went to a hypnotist show with friends thinking I wouldn't be affected... Long story short, I remember the first fifteen minutes of the show. Apparently, I was in the show for the rest of it. So that was a thing. But that's not the weird thing. The hypnotist said that a side effect of his hypnosis is often a better ability to focus, a quieter mind and less anxious thoughts. I have to hand it to the man, his words seem to be true. An unexpected side effect of this for me though is that it turns out the noise and chatter in my mind actually helps me write my fics. Now it's all a bit quiet in there and it's been hard to get the words out. But, that doesn't mean I don't still love writing - so we're pushing through.

I do have a confession though - this story has two prompts noted at the top of it in my drafts and although I can't find any evidence that I've posted it under either prompt, if I have already posted this and somehow have missed it, please let me know and I shall take the duplicate down.

Anyway, enough about me. Enough rambling. I hope you enjoy!

*~*

It would be easier if she wasn’t nice to you. 

If she wasn’t nice to you, she could just be the untouchable, hot as hell, fiery goddess you admired from afar. 

But no.  She let you sit with her and Barb at lunch.  She even brought you lunch after a few conversations had strayed into discussing cooking and favourite recipes during said lunch breaks.

How were you meant to get over your ridiculous crush when she actually gave you the time of day?  When she smiled like that?  When her whole face lit up and she gestured so animatedly when she got caught up talking about something?

And as if that wasn’t enough, how were you ever meant to recover after seeing her so soft with her students?  Going out of her way to open up to them and help them. 

It was ridiculous, though.  You knew that.  What good was ever going to come of it? 

Kid.  That’s what she calls you.  It’s a constant reminder of the age gap between you.  Of the chasm that you feel you can’t even begin to cross when she sees you as some eager little kid.

You’ve always had a thing for older women.  From those early, confused days of watching your on-screen idols, to realising you didn’t want to be them.  You didn’t want to be friends with them.  You just wanted them. 

You want one in particular, but as you look across at her, her red hair ablaze in the sunshine, you force those feelings down once more.  If friendship is what she’s offering you’re not about to beat her with that olive branch.  You’ll deem yourself lucky and move on.

Even if she has ruined you for anyone else. 

*~*

“You know,” drawled Barbara.  “It’s beginning to become a habit.”

“What is?” asked Melissa, turning to face her friend with a frown. 

“Staring at her,” said the older woman, eyebrow raised. 

The red head scoffs.  “As if.  I don’t know what you think you’re seeing but that ain’t it.”

*

It was all said in jest to begin with.  Gentle teasing about a few wayward glances.  That was until Barb started to see her best friend be genuinely nice to you. 

To begin with, she tolerated you.  You weren’t one of the eager little puppies she so often saw when it came to younger new hires.  That much was evident from the start.  You were an old soul.  You carried a different energy. 

One that Melissa apparently appreciated just as much as the view.  Barb stood beside her the red head as they watched over the kids leaving school, keeping an eye on the them as they left for the day, making their way to busses, rides or parents.  Or rather, Barb was keeping watch over the children.  A quick glance at Melissa confirmed that her attention was directed at you where you stood a little way off, chatting happily with a young girl about the book she was waving at you as she waited for her mother to collect her. 

“Girl…”

“Don’t,” sighed Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest. 

That took Barb by surprise.  She had expected the red head to deny it.  “You mean?”

“It’s stupid.  She’s some pretty young thing and I’m…older than I care to admit.”

Turning to look at her friend, her expression sad, the older woman reached out and placed a comforting hand on the other woman’s arm.  “And?  What’s it called?  A Spring, Winter romance?”

“May, December,” corrected Melissa automatically.  “But same thing.”

“Exactly” said Barb.  “There’s a name for it and everything.  It’s a thing.”

“It’s not a thing,” huffed the red head, turning on her heel and heading back into the building.  “It’s stupid and I’ll get over it, just like I do everything else in my life.”

*~*

You’re not sure you’re entirely on board for PECSA. 

Out of school, things are different.  Lines are blurred and you’re seeing a whole different side to your colleagues.  You’re not sure if it’s liberating or terrifying.  And that’s before you add in the factor of the other teachers who have also been set free from the constraints of the classroom and are now loose in the wild.

You’re sure your confusion must show on your face, particularly when at the end of one of the breakout sessions you find yourself caught up in conversation with a striking older woman who teaches at another school across town.

You don’t see Melissa at first, who watches the interaction with interest.  She’s not used to seeing you outside of school, and it takes her back to realise that the woman is flirting with you.  Openly and blatantly flirting with you.  She’s touching your arm, leaning into you.  Smiling and laughing. 

In return, you know you’re blushing something terrible, especially when the woman hands you a page from her notebook with her number scrawled across it.  Watching the woman walk away, throwing you a smile over her shoulder to you, you finally see the red head standing in the doorway where she said she’d meet you so you could head for lunch together.

“She not a bit old for you?” she asks as you approach, your blush still heating your cheeks.

You frown.  “If she looks like that and thinks I’m hot enough to give me her number, they’re the numbers I’m interested in,” you reply, heading in the direction of the lunch buffet. 

Barb overhears the comment, unable not to smirk at your flash of sass.  “Jealous?” she asks, leaning into the red head’s space. 

“Of what?” barks Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest as she watches you go.  “Oh leave off!” she snarks at the older woman’s raised eyebrow.

*

How the day has gone from serious talks and breakout sessions to cocktails by the pool you’re still trying to wrap your head around.  Adjusting your cover up, you head around the side of the pool, heading for the bar.  You hope the day starts to feel a little bit more normal with a drink in your hand. 

Gazing out over the water, you catch sight of Melissa.  Or rather, you catch sight of a lot more of Melissa than you’ve ever had the privilege of seeing before.  Not looking where you’re walking as your eyes drink in the magnificent view there’s no saving yourself as you step forward and your foot finds water instead of concrete.

“Is that?” Melissa asks incredulously at the dramatic splash that comes from the other side of the pool.  She’s up out of her lounger before Barb can comment and the older teacher can only watch on in amusement as the red head storms off in your direction. 

You pull yourself out of the pool, allowing yourself to perch on the edge as you try your best to ignore the chuckles of those around you who have noticed your mishap. 

“What the fuck happened?”

You look up and of course Melissa is there.  Right there, lit up in the sun like an angel, red hair haloed around her head.  It takes a moment to realise that her eyes are roving over you, and not just your face.  You glance down where your cover up now clings to your skin, almost see through. 

Looking up you see Melissa blink rapidly a few times before offering you a hand.  You reach for her, smiling as she helps pull you to your feet.  “Thanks,” you smile sheepishly.  “I guess I should go change.”

“It’s a pool, you’re allowed to be a little wet,” the red head smirks back at you.  “Besides, we’re this close to the bar now, be rude not to take advantage.”

*

Melissa appears at the bar next to you with a huff, grumbling under her breath.  Her attention is focused on trying to get the attention of the barman.  Mumbling though she is, she’s speaking just loud enough for you to make out what she was saying. 

“He was an ass,” you tell her, watching as her head whipped around, finally realising you were there. 

“What?” she asks with a frown, already tipsy. 

“Your ex,” you enlighten her.  You may not have heard the comment that led to her current dip in mood, or ever have met the man, but you know enough.

Her frown only deepens.  “You don’t know a thing about him.”

“I know he didn’t appreciate what he had and left you,” you offer, ordering a drink when the barman appears in front of you, before turning back to Melissa to ask what she wants.  You find her looking at you oddly, her expression unreadable.  She quickly snaps out of it and barks and order at the bartender.

*

Barb has had more than a few drinks, it would appear as she flags you down to sit with her as you pass her table. 

“Sit, sit,” she smiles, trying to reach for your arm and push the chair out next to her at the same time in an uncoordinated matter. 

Catching her hands, you still her as you slide into the seat beside her to placate her.  Her gaze is a little unfocused, her words edging towards slurred.  You hadn’t quite realised how drunk she was, but then again, looking around the room, it would have been more of a surprise for her to be sober. 

“Don’t call that woman,” she tells you, leaning into your space.

“What woman?” you frown.

“That woman who gave you her number,” says Barbara like it’s obvious. 

You try not to think about the fact that for Barb to know, Melissa must have mentioned it.  That it’s been on her mind enough to mention it to the older woman.  “Why not?”

“She wouldn’t like it.”

“She gave me her number,” you point out.  “I don’t think she would mind.”

Barb shakes her head.  “Not her.  Her,” she says, nodding across the room to where Melissa is standing. 

You cross your arms across your chest.  “What has Melissa got to do with anything?”

Barb raises a single eyebrow, the action still smooth and effective despite her drunkenness and it makes you blush. 

Averting your gaze, you shake your head.  “It doesn’t matter what I feel,” you sigh.  “She’s not…She thinks I’m some stupid kid.”

What you don’t see, is Melissa standing close enough behind your chair to catch your words.

*

Somewhere after speaking to Barb you decide that trying to be the sober parent of your little Abbott family just isn’t working.  You’ve lost track of most of them, and honestly, you’ve given up trying to find them.  They’re all adults and can fend for themselves.

You still have eyes on Barb and Melissa though, the former dancing up a storm and the latter apparently winning an ill-advised drinking competition. 

Not that you can judge, of course.  You know you’ve drunk more than you should, feeling pleasantly buzzed from your seat in the corner of the bar.  You should call it a night before you do something you’ll regret, like call the woman Barbara told you not to.  Sober, you wouldn’t.  Drunk, you’re flattered enough and wouldn’t say no to the company. 

With a sigh, you push yourself up out of your seat and head towards the elevators.  Pushing the button, you watch the numbers light up as the lift descends.  You squeak in surprise when a strong pair of hands land on your hips, turning you around as a plump pair of lips meet you own.

“I don’t think you’re some stupid kid.”

You blink slowly a few times, taking in the woman before you.  Melissa.  Melissa Schemmenti just kissed you.  You shouldn’t, but you don’t have it in you to deny yourself the pleasure of feeling her lips against yours once more.  You kiss her back with enthusiasm, not protesting when she backs you into the elevator as it opens and moaning as your back hits the wall of the small metallic box, the weight of Melissa pressed against you. 

You’ve always admired her curves.  Pressed against you they’re a dream. 

The clearing of a throat far to close snaps you out of your living dream and you feel Melissa take a step back, biting her lip as she guiltily throws a glance over her shoulder, registering Barb standing in the elevator, her back to you both as if she hasn’t just witnessed exactly what you were both doing. 

Standing close, you grin at the devious smirk being aimed your way by a certain red head.  There’s a dangerous glimmer of mischief in her eyes.  Smudged lipstick and mussed hair from where you hands couldn’t help but run thought it complete the look.  The woman is a work of art. 

You look up as the elevator doors chime open, realising this is your floor.  Stepping forward, you slip past Barb, who merely raises an eyebrow.  You throw a look back at Melissa, who sways forward as though to follow you, before hesitating. 

The doors slide shut, and honestly, it’s probably for the best.

You miss the dark chuckle Barb lets out as the lift begins to ascend once more.

“What you laughing at?” asks Melissa, scowling.  She’s annoyed with herself for hesitating.  She knows what she wants, and she just let it walk out of the elevator.

“You two think you’re subtle?” the older woman drawls.  “She has more of your lipstick on than you do.”

*

If PECSA was party central the night before, it was hangover central the morning after.  You’re sitting outside on the low wall, sunglasses firmly in place, your phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other as you take in the cool morning air. 

“You regret what happened last night?”

You turn to see Melissa, similarly attired.  “What?”

She comes to stand beside the wall on which you’re sat, her gaze wandering anywhere but you as she speaks.  “I came to your room last night.  You didn’t answer.”

“I didn’t hear you,” you admit, watching as her head whips around.  “Too busy throwing up everything I ever drank.”  You feel the blush dusting your cheeks, but continue.  This feels too important to let a little embarrassment stop you.  You take off your sunglasses so she can see your face as you speak,  “I have many regrets about my choices last night, but what happened in the elevator isn’t one of them.”

A slow smile spreads across her lips as she shifts to take a seat next to you.  She slips her own sunglasses off, finally letting you see her eyes.  “Good to know,” she murmurs.  “Me neither.”

You can’t help but smile at that.  You notice her gaze wandering and realise she staring at the phone still clutched in your hand. 

“You planning on using that number you were so interested in yesterday?”

“Honestly?” you ask, seeing the uncertainty in her face as she nods regardless.  “That woman was hot, and while I was more than a little flattered she gave me her number…she isn’t a patch on you.”

Pale cheeks blush adorably pink at your words.  Melissa isn’t used to hearing things like what from you.

“Don’t look so surprised,” you scoff, nudging her shoulder.  “You’ve seen yourself in a mirror, right?  And you needn’t think I go falling in pools over every pretty woman I see.”

“I really distracted you that badly, huh?” she asks, a little of her confidence returning.

You bump her shoulder with yours once more.  “Shut up.”

A gentle hand moves to cup your cheek, turning you to face her as Melissa presses a gentle kiss to your lips.  “For the record,” she says quietly.  “I don’t think you’re some stupid little kid.  I think you’re beautiful.”

You take in a shuddering breath.  It all feels too good to be true.  “What happens at PECSA stays at PECSA?” you ask sadly.

“I’ve never been one for playing by the rules,” she smirks back at you, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before pushing herself to her feet and offering a hand to you.  “Come on, we gotta go find Barb.  Reunite her with her shoes, sobriety and sanity.”

You take the hand being offered like a lifeline, grinning as Melissa starts walking, swinging your joined hands between you.  It’s only as you pass through the front doors to the building that her words even register.  “Wait?  Her shoes?”

[junkissed]

enha surprise adopting a kitten

member — enhypen hyung line (heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon) x gn reader genre — fluff, sfw word count — 1.6k warnings — kissing, pet names (baby, babe, beautiful, etc.) that's about it notes — requested by @onlymingyus — thank you sm for the request my lovely mars !! this is my first time posting for a group besides svt so i hope yall enjoy reading :) if you did please feel free to reblog or send an ask, it is super encouraging and helps me keep writing <3 enjoy!

heeseung . . . might be confused why it had to be a surprise, because he would’ve said yes anyway, but he would ultimately accept it pretty easily. it's not the weirdest thing you've ever brought home, and he's been thinking about getting a pet anyway, so this is honestly a win all around. he’s flexible and he’ll adapt to pretty much anything you throw at him, so fitting a cat into your daily lives won’t be difficult on his part.

"where did you find that?" he asks nonchalantly when you walk in the door, strolling out of the living room to greet you.

"no idea, he just followed me home. maybe we're being stalked." you giggle as you lean in to give him a kiss, the same way you do every single day when you get home, and he grins at how ordinary this is for you. only you could show up with a kitten unannounced and act like it's the most normal thing in the world. but he loves your normal.

you hand the tiny kitten off to him as you shut the door behind you and slip off your shoes, and you miss the tender look in his eyes while you're digging through your purse in search of something. "obviously i adopted him," you admit, looking up at him as you finally find what you were looking for.

"well, i can never tell with you, baby. the other explanation worked too," heeseung laughs, carefully stroking his index finger over the kitten’s head. you can already tell it’s going to be impossible to get the two of them apart, already forming an instant, inseparable bond.

you hold out the small stack of papers for him to glance at. "the shelter was having an adoption event, and i saw it on my way home from work. and besides, i felt like we needed a little guy running around here. you'll get lonely without me all day."

your reasoning makes the corners of his mouth turn up in a smirk, because it's such a you thing to do. your spontaneity is one of the things he loves most about you, the fact that you could adopt a kitten on a whim because you think he needs a reminder of you. what you don't realize is that everything already does remind him of you, but… he supposes a furry little friend couldn't hurt, too. "you know me so well, beautiful. can't live without you."

you beam at him, and he can't help but think that he'd let you surprise him with a zoo full of kittens if it means he gets to see you smile like that all the time. "so… you like him?"

"of course i do." he leans in to give you a kiss, and you laugh when the tiniest, softest mew springs up from between you.

"good," you say, kissing him back. "because i think he already likes you."

jay . . . obviously can't have a real cat, but i think he’d still enjoy your surprise. he always indulges in your surprise endeavors, and although he has his reservations you always manage to make him smile in ways he doesn’t expect.

"i got you a surprise," you grin as you walk into the kitchen, clutching something behind your back.

"what is it this time?" he turns and looks up from the pan on the stove where he’s started making dinner, cocking an eyebrow at you. try as he might, he never knows what you’re going to bring home with you next, but he’s gotten used to it.

"a kitten."

his eyes narrow in lighthearted suspicion, and he points his spatula at you warily. you’ve had this conversation before, and as much as he would love to own a house full of cats, he just can’t. even the hypoallergenic breeds don’t make much of a difference, so for now he’s content with cat videos on the internet and the occasional trip to volunteer at the animal shelter, as long as he stocks up on allergy medicine beforehand. "babe, you know—"

but before he can finish his sentence you pull your arms around to reveal what you've been hiding: a stuffed toy cat with a bow around its neck.

"cute," he concedes, his expression softening. he should’ve guessed it would be something like this. you know him too well and love him too much to ever purposely do something he wouldn’t be able to enjoy.

"you really thought i brought you a real cat?" you grin playfully at his reaction, because it was exactly the response you’d been hoping for. your boyfriend is too much fun to tease, and you can never resist the opportunity to string him along for the sake of a little fun.

jay pointedly ignores your question and turns back to his cooking, but he doesn’t try to hide the small smile on his face. "dinner’s on in 10. will our… new friend, be joining us?"

you wrap your arms around him from behind and kiss him on the cheek. "of course. i’ll be sure to set out an extra plate."

jake . . . is a dog person through and through, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy having a cat, too. he would be excited at the idea of it at first, but he’d get more nervous as time goes on. it’s a lot of responsibility owning a pet, and although he’s an experienced dog dad he doesn’t know much about taking care of a cat.

"are you sure? what if she, like, bites?"

you shrug with a smile, still cupping the kitten in the palms of your hands and holding her out for him to look at. "i don’t know, jake, it’s just a kitten. she’s not going to murder you in your sleep. she’s probably just as scared of you as you are of her."

he lets out a chuckle at that, because he knows you’re right. he knows it’s an irrational thing to be afraid of, and it’s really not even a fear in the first place, but he’s can’t help that he’s just awkward around cats. he’s more used to dogs; what do you even do with a cat?

but it isn’t long before he’s playing with the kitten just as enthusiastically as he plays with layla, and there’s been more than a couple times when you’ve come home and found the three of them playing fetch together. at first he’d been worried about whether a kitten would be able to fit into your routine, but although he had his doubts he quickly comes to love your new friend. he's a fast learner when it comes to taking care of things, and before long he'd be a natural at it.

sunghoon . . . might be hesitant, but not for long. his reaction would be like when dads say they don't want a pet but then a week later you find him explaining the rules of football to them. he’s more easily won over than he thinks: he swears up and down that he only likes dogs, but then you see him being so attentive to your new kitten and you can’t help but laugh because his soft spot is so obvious even though he always tries to deny it. that kitten is going to be his new best friend, whether he likes it or not (spoiler: he likes it.)

"did you get more cat treats when you went to the store the other day?" he asks casually, not looking up from his phone where he’s sitting on the couch. the newest member of your family sits curled up on his lap, sleeping soundly as he runs his fingers gently over the soft fur of her back.

you hum curiously in reply. "no? there was half a bag left last time i checked. are they gone already?"

sunghoon doesn't reply, which is an admission in itself, and you can't help but roll your eyes and smile.

"you know you're only supposed to give cats a couple of those a day, at most?"

"well, it's her fault, not mine." he makes a huffing noise in disagreement, and it's so endearing you can't actually be mad at him, as much as you'd like to scold him. "she was giving me that look. she deserved those treats. i couldn't deny her."

you find it endlessly adorable how in love he is with this kitten, despite his insistence otherwise. on the outside he seems quiet, but he's really just thinking of the things he still has to do. have the toys he ordered online shipped yet? did he remember to change the litter box? has he spent enough time cuddling today— with both you and the kitten? these are all vital questions that he has to make sure are addressed, and the current order of business on his list is the lack of cat treats. luckily for him, he's not the only one in the house who has a soft spot: you have one for him, too.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!! this is also my first time (officially) writing for enhypen so pls let me know how you liked it, feedback is super appreciated <3

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[milkistar]

𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐔𝐒...

you and leehan have been inseparable since childhood, but when your feelings start to shift, every glance, every touch, every silence becomes unbearable. afraid of ruining everything, you bury your emotions—until one unexpected confession changes everything. in another universe, you and him might already be together. but what about this one?"

★:: leehan (boynextdoor) x reader.

tags:: fluff, gn reader, best friends to lovers, mentions of food, kinda cliché.

you didn't remember when you had fallen in love with leehan, nor why. it had happened slowly, gradually, consuming your heart like a flame.

he had never changed—his attitude toward you always remained the same, the afternoons spent together always followed the same routine. but the lenses through which you saw him had changed drastically, making you almost feel like a different person stood before you at times. but in reality, it was you who felt different.

and now? now, just looking at him made your stomach twist, and that made you feel so bad that you wanted to cry. "it'll pass with time," you kept telling yourself. but the more time passed, the less friendly and more romantic your feelings for him became. it was exhausting.

you had been friends since childhood, seatmates from elementary school all the way to high school. together, you skipped several school events to eat ice cream and watch b-horror movies, got your driver's licenses at the same time, and even went on your first out-of-town trip together.

you kicked your bedroom door open, your hands full with two cans of energy drink and an extra-large bag of chips. leehan was exactly where you had left him—lying on your bed, phone in hand.

he had arrived at your house about half an hour ago, using the excuse that he was bored to death and that talking to his fish wasn’t giving him much satisfaction. then, without even asking for permission, he had made his way to your room and thrown himself onto your bed without ceremony.

you had lost count of how many times leehan had gone from being bored at his house to being bored at yours.

"come help me, idiot," you said, motioning to your full hands.

he looked at you with a raised eyebrow, then smiled and returned to staring at his phone screen. "no." you expected that.

you placed the things on the bed, then grabbed one of the cans and threw it at him. just because you expected it didn’t mean he should go unpunished.

"ouch," he complained, rubbing his side where the can had hit him. "you're cruel."

"and you're lazy," you replied, walking over to close the door again.

you sat on the bed, close enough to him not to raise suspicion, but far enough to keep your heart from short-circuiting.

you grabbed the remaining can and opened it to take a sip. leehan, after finishing his dramatic act of pretending he had taken a fatal blow, sat up as well and did the same.

you both stayed silent for a few minutes. it wasn’t strange—your friendship had reached the point where such silences weren’t awkward and happened often. then, he broke the quiet.

"you know, y/n, i was thinking about something yesterday," he said, running a hand through his long hair. "do you think, in another universe, the two of us are together?"

needless to say, you choked on your drink. "excuse me?"

you turned red. bad. very bad sign.

"i was reading a post about soulmates the other night, and the author wrote that in different dimensions, soulmates can be both best friends and lovers. and, well, you're my best friend," he explained casually, fiddling with his phone to find the post he was talking about.

your chest ached. of course, you were his best friend. maybe you were just born in the wrong dimension.

you skimmed through the post he showed you, taking another sip from your can before nodding. "yeah, probably in another universe we are, but fortunately, in this one, we're not." you laughed after saying it. you had to avoid any hint of suspicion forming in his mind.

there was another stretch of silence, then, once again, he broke it

"why?" he asked.

you looked at him, confused. you actually understood, but you didn't want to make it seem like you were thinking about it too. "why what?"

"why is it fortunate that we're not together in this one?" he looked into your eyes and spoke again before you could even come up with an excuse. "i’d like it."

you blushed again, and before you could regain your ability to speak, he kissed you. no warning, so fast that you weren’t even sure if it had really happened.

you did the same, and without thinking, you spoke. "no." you hesitantly placed a hand on his arm, your fingers trembling. "i… i was joking earlier." you forced yourself to look into his eyes and hold his gaze. "i’d like it too."

"sorry, i shouldn’t have," he said, suddenly jumping up from the bed.

he smiled and then kissed you again, this time slowly, allowing you to savor his long-desired lips. and that was only the first kiss of many.

[resident-idiot-simp]

Idea

Laura taking a job that Wade said she's be good at. So she takes it but it catches either (and these are two different options we could take.)

The Avengers or the X-Men's attention. (Or you could also do both 🤔)

The Avengers try to catch her (It doesn't go very well) but eventually with enough of them they manage to detain her. They ask what she's doing and she just shrugs and tells them where the gold card is on her. She explains she just doing a job and that she's just cleaning up scum.

They demand her name and she just rolls her eyes at them. "Laura." She gets blank stares, "I don't know what last name you want I have many."

"How so?" Tony asks.

"Well legally it's Kinney, but I'm also a Howlett and most recently Wilson has been added on top of that." She answers with a shrug.

"The databases say you don't exist." Tony told her and she nods. "That's because I'm also x23 I'm just scientific experiment gone wrong." Again she sounds unbothered but everyone else shares looks.

"What kind of experiment?" Steve asked.

Laura just smiles and shows far too sharp fangs. "A clone of the perfect weapon hence my second name."

"Howlett." Steve offers.

"You know him." Laura shot back.

Everyone looked between the two in confusion. "I know him?" Steve asked skeptically.

"Good old." She snorted to herself, "old." She muttered to herself with a smile before continuing, "Lucky James."

Steve's eyes went wide, "No he's dead that was in the war." He dismissed.

Laura raised an eyebrow at him and Steve started to look at her closer and sure enough they looked so similar. "Please you think 70 years will slow him down? He's well over 200 that's more than double your age. Besides he wouldn't be the perfect soldier if he was anything but nigh invincible."

"Are you trying to tell us your cloned after someone who's practically immortal?" Bruce asked dubiously.

Laura just shrugged, "He was weapon X."

Tony could confirm that yes they were documents on a 'Weapon X' and it was...gruesome to say the least.

"Wilson?" Clint asked hesitantly like he already knew the answer.

She reared back and smiled with all her teeth. Clint flinched back at that, "I think you already know." She said simply and Clint looked horrified.

"Your to young for him " Clint said with conviction and Laura looked disgusted at the insinuation. "Hell no, he's my pop." She answered with a shrug.

Clint seemed more scared at that. Steve turned to him and asked, "Who are you talking about?"

"Deadpool." Clint breathed. Everyone shot back around to look at Laura. "I'm taking this job on his suggestion, but don't freak out too much Papá also knows so it's not like he's going to find out and flip as well. You only have to worry about the fact you captured me."

This did not placate Clint or now a nervous looking Natasha.

"Just let me go and we don't have a problem, I have nothing against you and as long as I make it home before Al goes out for bingo no one will cause an issue."

"let her go Tony " Natasha ordered.

Tony blinked surprised down at her, "Are you serious that's all it takes to let her go?!" He is genuinely astounded, he had never seen Natasha this rattled.

"You don't mess with Deadpool and he doesn't mess with you." She said simply and Tony now desperately wanted to meet the man who frazzled the spys so.

Tony opened the cell and Laura stepped out glancing over them all, "Pleasure doing business with you." She nodded before waking over to the man she had been hunting and with a slash she took off his ring finger. Everyone in the room flinched eyeing the claws wearily.

She put the finger in a ziplock bag before walking off.

A few minutes later a echoing laugh caught their attention. Clint and Nat flinched before looking around. Out of the dark walked a man the size of a tank in red and black. Deadpool.

"Your lucky she knows me so well or one of you would be in pieces right now." Deadpool told them in a flat voice. It seemed to put the spies on edge even more.

"We didn't know we're sorry." Natasha apologized honestly, Deadpool crossed his arms and nodded. "What confuses me is what would The Avengers be going after Mr. pedophile over there? Because that's not your job unless of course you're going after mini?"

Silence.

"Humm what about her is so intriguing to shield because let me tell you one government group got her already and that will never happen again. Mark my words I'll die before that happens." Deadpool is still eerily calm.

Tony suddenly understands why Clint and Natasha seemed scared.

"If they come sniffing around again." A small chuckle, "They can find out the hard way just like so many others what happens when you hurt what's ours." Deadpool finished with a shake of his head.

Suddenly a low growl emanated from behind them they jumped around. This man was shorter but built like a linebacker or bull and he wore yellow and blue. He had the same sharp teeth and looked so similar to Laura it was unmistakable who this was. He even had the claws only there were three instead of two.

Steve couldn't believe his eyes. Laura wasn't lying there he was still alive. But he barely gave Steve even he passing glance as he assessed everyone that was in front of him.

"I've destroyed a government facility ones by myself I can easily do it again." He growled and Tony could easily confirm that with the information he had found out.

Deadpool walked around them and leaned himself over the order man. "And don't count me out I've done my fair share of government facility takedowns. The Weapons X off shoot went boom too."

The Avengers nodded their understanding, Deadpool clapped "Wonderful now we went to go home to are daughter, dog , and blind Coke addicted roommate. Toodaloo." He clapped at the end with a joyous tone before spinning on his heel and leaving. Logan following behind after giving one last glare

(I could do the other two options later if you are interested also I think this count is a drabble so I'll probably post it tomorrow to AO3)

Avengers and X-Men

[30somethingautisticteacher]

In Full Bloom

Ficlet inspired by a moodboard made by the fabulous @typicalopposite

****

Maddie coughed as she stepped through the doorway, waving her hand in front of her face. "Jesus, Buck, have you decided to open up a flower shop? I don't think I've ever seen more flowers outside of the botanical gardens."

Buck's face flushed as his niece darted past them both. "Pretty flowers!" Jee exclaimed, bouncing on her toes as she circled the explosion of colors filling the room.

"Uh, we actually had a call at a flower shop," Buck muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh yeah?" Maddie's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Which one?"

"Let It Grow. Tommy, the florist—he was really thankful."

"Hmm, what else do we know about this Tommy?" Maddie asked, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing smile.

"Maddie," Buck said warningly, though a hint of color crept up his neck.

"He's just a nice guy showing his appreciation." Buck busied himself arranging a particularly large bouquet of roses and lilies.

"So he's old? Or married?" She pressed, following her brother across the room. Her eyes danced with amusement as she watched him fidget with the flowers.

"Why don't you ask your husband? He was also on the call, and he and Tommy seemed pretty buddy-buddy," Buck said, a triumphant smirk playing at his lips.

"I will, but you're still being evasive," Maddie shot back, crossing her arms. She wasn't about to let her brother off the hook that easily.

"Can we please just go outside? I thought we were going to have lunch on the patio," Buck said, already heading for the back door, eager to escape the interrogation.

Maddie grudgingly followed, scooping Jee up into her arms, but her eyes lit up when she spotted two new raised flowerbeds in Buck's small backyard. The fresh wooden frames were filled with rich soil and what looked like the beginnings of an herb garden.

"Interesting," Maddie said, setting Jee down to examine the beds more closely.

"What is interesting?" Buck asked, though his tone suggested he already knew where this was going.

"You're taking up gardening?" She raised an eyebrow, running her finger along the smooth wooden edge. "Where did you get the flowerbeds?"

"Uh, well, it's good to have hobbies," Buck said, suddenly very interested in adjusting the patio umbrella.

"And that answers part of my question," Maddie said, a triumphant grin spreading across her face.

"Fine! Tommy built them for me." Buck threw his hands up in surrender.

Maddie's eyes widened as she turned to face her brother. "Just how long ago was this call?"

Before he could answer, the front door chimed.

"Doorbell!" Jee yelled, running towards the front door with the boundless energy of a child.

Buck reached the door first, intercepting his niece's dash. When he opened it, Tommy stood on the stoop, carrying a bouquet and wearing a bright grin.

"Hi baby," he said, handing Buck the flowers. "For you."

"Baby?" Maddie gasped, her jaw dropping as the pieces clicked into place.

"Oh no, I'm sorry—Evan, is this a bad time?" Tommy asked, his confident grin faltering as he glanced between the siblings.

"Not a bad time at all—my sister and niece just came over for lunch," Buck said, reaching for Tommy's free hand. "Tommy, this is my sister Maddie and niece Jee Yun. And Maddie, this is my boyfriend Tommy."

"Boyfriend?" Both Maddie and Tommy said in unison, though with very different tones—Maddie's delighted shock contrasting with Tommy's surprised pleasure.

"Yes, boyfriend. That ok?" Buck asked, setting the flowers down and wrapping his arms around Tommy's shoulders.

"It's perfect," Tommy said, pulling Buck into a deep kiss.

Maddie cleared her throat. "I think we're going to head out."

"You don't have to—" Buck started, reluctantly pulling away from Tommy.

Maddie waved her hand. "You two enjoy each other's company." She pulled her brother in for a hug and whispered, "And I am going to need all kinds of details about the hot florist."

"Noted," Buck said, smiling brightly at his sister's acceptance.

"Bye Unca Buck, bye flower man!" Jee called as the door closed.

"Mmmm, flower man. I like it," Tommy said, pulling Buck back into his arms with a grin.

"How about we snuggle on the couch and watch a movie?" Buck suggested, lacing his fingers through Tommy's.

They turned toward the living room, both pausing as they took in the sea of flowers covering every available surface—roses on the coffee table, lilies on the TV stand, daisies along the windowsills, and various bouquets dotting every corner.

"You know," Tommy said with a laugh, "maybe I did go a little overboard with the flowers."

"A little?" Buck teased, squeezing his hand. "My living room looks like you decided to make 'Let It Grow' a chain." He tugged Tommy toward the couch, carefully moving a vase of sunflowers to make room. "But I love it. Though maybe next time, stick to just one bouquet?"

"No promises," Tommy murmured, pulling Buck close as they settled onto the couch. "I've got a reputation to maintain as 'flower man' now."

[vulpixisananimal]

(Siffrin) {Mal Du Pays} <Null> |Asterion| [Loop] [(Saffron)] [Takes place after ACT 2] [A mini story with Muenos, from @neoncityrain]

[Warning for self harm and abuse under the cut.]

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep. The more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite."

(Romeo and Juliet. You knew the play well, you've seen it quite a few times in fact! Well, you THINK so, anyways.)

(Yourself, Mira, Isabeau, and Ramos got seats near the front. Special guests, and all that. It was no use trying to pay for tickets or anything like that. The "Saviors of Vaugard" didn't pay for anything anymore.)

<Just accept it already and watch the play.>

"I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu. Anon, good nurse."

(The actors playing as Romeo and Juliet were good. The first was the spitting image of some great romantic heartthrob. The second looked thin and gentle, kind, with a very deliberate voice.)

(Apparently this troupe used to travel around, but settled down here a few years ago, so they all must have had a lot of practice. Maybe you should ask about where they've been when you g-)

<The smile's fake.>

(What?)

<Juliets smile. It's fake.>

(Of course it is! she's an actor!)

<I know that, idiot. What I mean is that there's acting, and there's repression.>

"Sweet Montague, be true. Stay but a little; I will come again."

(You try and get a better look at the actor playing Juliet. The smile IS fake. It's a very, very familiar kind of fake. You shudder.)

>>>

"Saviors! Again thank you so much for coming to see our little performance!" (The Man in Charge of the place wanted to meet your little group after the show. You all said your hellos, but you kept to the back. There was something about his boastfulness that put you off.)

(Everyone was milling about in the lobby after the show. Some of the actors had come out to chat but you looked around for one specific face. Are you sure the smile was fake?)

<Almost positive.>

(You waited, listening to the crowd, drifting off to the side, trying to keep unseen. By the sound of it, everyone liked the play. You did too, of course.)

<There.>

(You glance over and, yes, there he, she? The person is standing near the entrance to backstage, they couldn't be more than. . . 20? Their hands behind their back, still half in costume, and smiling.)

<"Smiling">

(A few audience members went up to them and talked, but you waited for your moment. Waited untill they drifted away. . . Now. You swiftly walk to the actor.)

(They look.) ". . Oh, hello! You are one of the saviors, aren't you?"

"Oh how did you know?" (You say in an overly sarcastic voice.) "Siffrin, He/they, it's a pleasure."

"Muenos. . . She/her. It's good to meet you."

<That was a very notable pause. Make a joke, Siffrin.>

(Easy.) "Y'know I really like plays, I get to meet some very good actors."

". . . Oh really?" <The smile still seems fake.>

"Yeah, I even met a famous mime once, they gave me some good words of advice."

"Oh? What did they say?"

"Well they said ' '"

<Muenos blinks, pauses, takes a second to process it, then begins to laugh softly into their hand. Look, smile, that's their actual smile.>

(Why are you so obsessed with how someone SMILES?)

<. . . Intuition.>

>>>

<Second showing. This time, you were here alone.>

"I come anon.—But if thou meanest not well, I do beseech thee—"

<Muenos, the actor playing Juliet, they were smiling just like before. Fake. Inauthentic. To the audience, it was perfect. To an actor, it was obvious.>

<You dressed differently. No eyepatch, hair up, different clothes. Different lighter clothes; good for movement.>

{Outfit.}

<. . . You're right. Her outfit changed. Longer sleeves, covering more skin. She didn't have that scarf before either.>

{Curious, why change between showings? What about Romeo?}

<. . . I think it's the same as the first night. Why would. . .>

{. . .}

{. . . You tug at your own sleeves.}

>>>

<We're agreed?>

{For once.}

<It was after the show, again. Everyone was mingling, talking. Everyone was busy, noisy. You scan the croud, looking for that actor. . . . There.>

<You see Muenos in the middle of a crowd of people, a hand on her shoulder. The owner of that hand was the Man in Charge. Both had very, very fake smiles.>

{Bad.}

<Agreed. What do we do. We can't talk to her privatly like this.>

{. . . Investigate. We're a rogue, after all. You slip away, finding a door backstage. With your current outfit you could move around easily. Lightless. Cool. You hated it.}

<Really? You aren't THAT sensitive, are you?>

{I am. You continue, ducking into hiding spots when hearing voices, navigating the cluttered corridors.}

<Greenroom should be. . . Left.>

{Left. Stagehands were clearing away a few things, but most were taking a break or mingling in the lobby. A very good time for some tresspasing. Ah, that might be the greenroom.}

{You turn the door handle slowly, it opens, and you dont hear anyone on the other side. You open it, slip insde, and close it. The room has mirrors and lights. Outfits, bags, personal belongings, the usual mess you'd find in a greenroom. At the back was a claust where the shows outfits were kept.}

(What are you two- oh! You're doing that plan we talked about?)

<Not now, Siffrin. Look around, which station is Muenos'?>

{You made it quick, going station by station to find anything significant. Makeup, foundation, fabric scissors, water, tonics, first aid supplies, hair pins- wait.}

<First aid in the greenroom?>

(I guess someone had a fashion disaster.)

{Ha ha. . . You check the trash can. There's an empty bottle, it's labled as a sour tonic. Healing. You stick a pinkie in the bottle and take it out, still wet.}

<The first aid?>

{You check the kit next, gauze, rubbing alchahol, dissenfectant. Hmm, You'd need to cut off a strip of gauze, you check the fabric scissors. . . There's a single thick thread caught in it. You take it and check it with the gauze and it matches.}

<They wouldn't have fabric scissors in here anyway. That's for the costuming department. The only reason they'd have these here is for an emergency. So someone must have brought it here, maybe in a rush.>

(There's voices down the hall, hide!)

{You were already on it, you rushed to the closit and stepped inside.}

<. . . . . The voices got closer.>

<. . . . . . Focus. . . . . .>

<. . . The door handle turned, and the door swung open. You hear two pairs of footsteps, one much heavier than the other. The door closes, you hear a click of a lock.>

"Shirt off, now." <The voice says, commandingly.>

"Yes, sir." <Came the reply, that was Muenos' voice.>

(What could-)

<Quiet! You hear the ruffling of fabric, a sharp inhale, a pause. . . Then a slap.>

"You idiot! You did that on purpos didn't you!" <The commanding. . . No, that was the Man in Charge.> "You nearly ruined the whole show!"

"Yes, sir."

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" <There's a pause. You feel a rage building up.> "I'm not going to let you ruin me like this! Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"If I see marks like those on your wrist again, I'll-"

<There's a knock on the door. The Man in Charge huffs, and goes to it, unlock, the door opens.> "What is it!"

"There's some people who want to see you, sir! Something about hiring the troupe?"

"Oh why didn't you say sooner! I'll be right back, Muenos, don't go anywhere."

<You hear the door close.>

<You felt cold, unending, rage.>

{You felt cruel, protective, destructive.}

(You felt. . . Disgusted. Horrified. . .)

<There's shuffling, a shakey sigh, and- wait. Siffrin, you're up.>

(I- Before you could respond, Null was walking the body out of the closit. Muenos was holding the fabric scissors, blades open. Her head whipped around to look at you- oh because I'M the only one who can talk to people! Great!)

". . . You know those are made for cloth, not you, right?" (You attempt to joke.)

<Terrible, Siffrin.>

"I. . . What are, you-"

"Oh I got a backstage pass!" (You smile cheekily and walk towards her.) "Y'know anyone can get a backstage pass if you're sneaky enough."

"You broke in?"

"Nah, the door was open so I just let myself in."

"But, that-"

(You put a finger to your lips, and let your smile drop.) "Muenos, I might have lost an eye, but I'm not deaf or blind. Do you need me to get you out of here?"

(Muenos stares at you for what seems like a long, long time. Was she stunned? Surprised? Thinking this was all a dream?)

". . . . . I'm. . . . Fine."

"Muenos. That man slapped you."

"It's, fine. I likely deserved it anyway."

"Why in all the stars in the sky would you deserve it!"

"I hurt myself, I hurt myself badly. Only an idiot would do that-"

(You don't even hesitate. You hold up your arm, roll up your sleeve, and take your glove off.)

". . . ." (She's staring at the familiar marks on your arm.)

". . . . Guess that makes two idiots."

(She takes a second, then looks down at her feet. Scissors back on the table, arms behind her back.) ". . . You don't need to help me. I'm sure you have much more important things to do."

"Muenos-" (STARS is this what it's like trying to talk to you when you're like this?) "The country's already saved, Muenos. Why wouldn't I help out a lover of jokes?"

". . . But I'm just. . ."

"What, a nobody?" (You laugh a little.) "It doesn't have to stay like that, Muenos."

". . ." (Muenos sniffs, and looks back up. You can tell she's trying hard to hold back tears.) ". . . . Please get me out of here."

"Consider it done." (You hold your arms open. After a second of hesitation, Muenos hugs you.)

". . . Thank you, Siffrin."

"Don't mention it!" (You pull away from the hug.) "Now, here's the plan-"

>>>

"It's almost time~" [You were sitting in a horse-led cart near to the theater with Ramos, Pétronille, and Bonnie. Isa, Odile, and Mirabelle had all gone to the third and final showing together a couple hours ago, so the play would finish up soon. All of your belongings were packed up, and the sun had set ages ago.]

[Mira, Isa, and Odile would arrive for the play and play up the excitment. With any luck this would drive the Man in Charge to put all their focus on them. Letting Muenos return to the green room after the show. From there, you and Ramos would. . .]

"Let's go." <You get up, and hop off the cart, Ramos joins you.> "We'll be back soon."

"Good luck!" <Nille grins and gives a two finger salute, and Bonnie a thumbs up.> "Or should I say break a leg."

<The two of you rushed around the side of the theater to a side door, locked. No issue, it wasn't an openphrase, so you got a few tools out and got to work while Ramos made sure you weren't interrupted.>

". . . . Y'know. ." <Ramos says quietly.> "I was being trained to stop breaking and entering, not join in."

<That got a laugh out of you.> "Were you also trained not to mind control people?"

"Surprisingly, no." <They pause for a moment.> ". . . Null."

"Mm?" <You don't look up.>

". . . I'm sorry."

<You pause for half a second, then continue.> ". . For what."

"For causing, all of that trouble in Jouvente."

". . ." <You consider this.> ". . . Why Siffrin?"

"H-huh?"

"Why Siffrin, why are you interested in them?"

"O-oh! Uh, w-well. . . I mean they're-"

<They were cut off by a click and the door swinging open.> "Answer later." <Was all you said before you dashed into the building.>

<You hurried through the halls once again. It was much harder, now. You had to wait more. Hide more. It was busy, there was a play being performed and everyone was focused on making it perfect. Step by step you got deeper into the heart of the theater until. . .>

<You heard a roar of applause from the distant audience. That must be the show. Things were about to get interesting. You saw stagehands rushing, there was a lul, maybe if you->

<Ramos tugged on your cloak, they whisper.> "We don't need to risk it, we can wait here."

[They have a point, unfortunatly.]

<. . . . Fine. You wanted to get this done, but, fine. You retreat back to the corner you found and waited.>

<First came the wave of actors who wanted to get out of costume, then those same actors heading either to home or the lobby. You wait just a bit longer untill most people were caught up in the after show glow, then you and Ramos are off once again.>

<You got to the green room, putting an ear to the door, you didn't hear anyone. You start to ope->

"Someone's asleep inside." <Ramos whispers to you. You look back with a Look, they tap their head.>

<You huff, standing and backing up a few steps before glaring at Ramos.> ". . . You're practicing that, aren't you."

<They look away.> ". . . If we're, going to be fighting those two then. . ."

"Good." <You nod.>

[Traitor.]

<They have a point, unfortunatly.>

<You hear footsteps coming down the hall, the two of you duck to the side, waiting to see who it is. The figure turns a corner, it's Muenos. She looks frazzled, with bags under her eyes>

[You step out and wave her over, she lights up a little and walks faster, stopping in front of the greenroom door.]

<You talk in an overly joking voice.> "Romeo oh Romeo, shall we make haste and leave this vile place?" <You're not sure if it was you or Loop doing the talking, but it doesn't matter.>

<That got a little laugh from Muenos.> "Juliet, Juliet, oh It is true, I have to say. I'm sick of this stupid play."

[That got you and Ramos to burst out laughing before you hushed yourselves.]

"Got everything you need? Muenos, right? I'm Ramos" <Ramos asks.>

<Muenos nod.> "I have everything, good to meet you Ramos."

". . . Not even a bag?" <Ramos looked concerend.> "Legal documents, memerobilia, clothes?"

<Muenos shook her head.>

[. . Ramos did say they ran away from their origonal family. . .]

<. . Right.> "Let's move then. Quickly. Take my hand."

<You hold a hand out for Muenos, they hesitate for a moment, but take it. The three of you were off like an arrow.>

[Down the hall, take a left, right, straight on, down those stairs. You had memorized this place already. Had all that wandering through The House finally payed off? Ha! You're leading, Ramos taking the rear, and Muenos safe between the two of you. You were almost there, just round a corner and-]

<You nearly bump into a random actor who was coming back from the Lobby. They take a step back, looking confused between you all.> ". . . Hey this area's for staff y'know"

<Fast talk.> "Ah, sorry, we were just, exploring!"

"Well explore somewhere else- Muenos? What are you doing-"

<Ramos pushes past you and rushes at the actor, before they can yell, Ramos plants two fingers on their temple.>

[. . . . . You smell mint.]

[. . . . . Ramos takes their hand away after a minute, the actor blinks, then smiles.]

"Oh uh. . . Sorry, had a brain hickup. You guys go on break, but not too long! Going to be all stagehands on deck to get everything cleaned up!"

[And with that they just. . . Walk away. You turn to Ramos.]

". . . Sorry."

[It takes all you have not to slap them right now. Later. You'll chew them out later.] ". . Let's keep going."

[The three of you make it to the door you entered in through. Nille was at the cart ready and waiting. You jump in, helping Muenos up. Ramos waited until you were both in to get in. You turn to Nille.] "Mission accomplished~"

"Crab yeah!" [She grinned and waved to Bonnie, who you could see waiting by the door to the theater.]

[Bonnie poked their head in the door and you could hear their yelling from here.] "'BELL, 'ZA, 'DILE!! CAN WE CRABBIN' GO ALREADY?!?"

[The perfect excuse to make a rushed exit, an angry pre-teen. Right on cue, the rest of your family left the theater and rushed over as casually as they could manage.]

[As soon as everyone was in you turned to Nille, but she was already ahead of you. With a tug of the reigns you were off! You were leaving this town today anyways, so the plan was perfect~]

[You all let out a collective sigh of relief.]

"I almost ran out of things to talk about. . ." [Mirabelle was bouncing her leg.]

"Really? I thought that was impossible!" [Nille called back.]

"It was very impressive to watch. " [Odile rubbed her eyes.]

"It's alright, I was ready to jump in at the costume design!" [Isa chucked, and leaned over to put an arm around you.]

"Of course you would my Giant~ You all did very well!" [You giggle.]

"Did'ya like my yelling 'Lulu?" [Bonnie was grinning.]

"Oh it was very impressive, a shout to pierce eardrums!" [You glance up at Ramos.] ". . . Thanks for the quick thinking. Ramos."

". . Don't mention it. I won't make it a habit." [They rub their neck.]

[You glance over, Muenos hasn't said a word. She was, staring at you all. Shocked? Surprised? Emotional? You passed the limits of the town and into the woods.]

[. . . Blind it all.] ". . . . It's wonderful to meet you, Muenos, you can call me Loop, they/them.~" [You wink.] "Me and dear Siffrin have joint custody of this body."

[ After a pause, Isa holds out a hand with a smile.] "Isabeau, he/him. Local big buff man here to help!"

"Odile, she/her."

"Mirabelle, she/her, are you okay? You're not hurt are you?"

"Ramos, they/them, if you need anything let me know, okay?"

"Bonnie!! Uhm, they/them. Do you like chilli? 'cause I'm making chilli at camp!!"

"Nille, she/her! I'm Bonnie's big sis, and if anyone tries anything with ya I'll bonk em!"

[Muenos looks at all of you on turn, you could tell that she's, barely keeping it together. She sinks down into her seat.]

"Muenos. And, she. . . ." [They pause to think.]

"Figurin' it out still?" [Nille calls from the front.] "Relax! We ain't like those crabbin' losers."

". . ." [They look away.]

". . . Do you want me to do your hair?" [Mira asked, Muenos nods, and she's off, digging out a brush.]

[You slowly see their shoulders relax. Oh stars, look at them. They were still wearing the underclothes of their outfit. You undo your cloak and quickly wrap it around them.] "Here, I'll want it back."

[They look up at you.] ". . . . I. . . T-thank you. . ."

"Here!!" [Bonnie hands Muenos some dried apricots. They take it shakily. No, they were crying.]

". . . You okay, Muenos?" [Isa asks.]

"why. . ." [They take a Shakey breath.] "Why are, you, being so kind to me?"

"Well. . . Why wouldn't we?"

"But, I'm, I'm just a nobody. You didn't need to risk yourself for. . ."

"If we didn't step in to save an abused actor then what sort of saviors would we be?" [Odile speaks up.] "I know personally I would have done a bit more than a little kidnapping."

"What, Arson?" [Ramos asks. Odile just smiles back.] ". . . Madame-"

"I didn't say anything."

"That's what's concerning, Madame!"

[You all laugh a bit. Muenos is still crying, but, they're smiling a bit. Between the apricot, cloak, and Mira combing their hair, they were calming down.] ". . . Mirabelle?"

"Yes Muenos?"

". . . Could you. . ." [They take a deep, deep breath.] ". . . Please cut my hair short."

"Oh!!!! S-sure!!" [After a moment, she dug in her bag and got some scissors. You all watched in anticipation, snip, snip, snip. . .]

". . . There!" [She reaches into her bag again and hands Muenos a mirror.] "Is that good?"

[You knew the look in Muenos' eyes. They were wide, tearing up again, and, they were smiling.]

". . . . It's, thank you, Mirabelle, i-its perfect!"

"Oh! I'm so glad!!" [Mira flapped her hands excitedly.] "So! Do you, maybe want to talk about pronouns? Maybe we could help figure it out!"

". . . N-no I, I have it." [Muenos looks down, still smiling.] ". . . Muenos. . . . Ah, he, him?"

[The cheers from everyone in the cart could probably be heard for miles. Your journey to the next town would only take a day or two. After that, though? Who knew. So, you start to spend the time in what fun ways you can, and what's better than swapping stories?]

[This is going to be a very long, very fun night.]

[dangerkittenclaws]

Are your requests still open? I’d love a fic where the (AFAB) reader is in a situation where she’s forced to share a bed with Vessel (maybe she’s a musician who’s touring with ST and the hotel is short on rooms? lol I know it’s super cliche) and in the middle of the night he wakes her up by initiating sex? 🥰

This was so fun to write, thank you!! And thank you for being my first request/ask, I'll never forget it! Sorry it took me a hot second to finish. To be honest, I feel I got a tad carried away but I hope I did our lean bean of a man justice! <3

vessel x f!band!reader

warnings: smut MDNI +18

You were waiting in the lobby of the hotel your tour agent had booked, spinning your luggage case lazily by its extended handle. The staff had been frantic as your large group entered the building.

 IV was at the counter talking to the man who was clicking desperately at his computer. Something clearly was wrong with the reservation, but you were so tired that you really didn't care, you just wanted to slide into a cozy bed and sleep like the dead. It had been a long day, not including the show tonight and piling into a van afterwards. 

Two of your best friends and bandmates, Alexis and Maggie were sitting on one of the lobby couches quietly showing memes to II. Vessel, III, and Liv, your bassist, were sitting on the bench right next to them. You all had gotten to know each other fairly well considering you inhabited a bus for numerous hours, watched each other practice, and went out to eat together. 

You had noticed Vessel staring at times the past few weeks. You didn’t particularly mind the man was checking you out, it felt good to be wanted in a genuine way. You were not opposed to something new. You had become aware of him giving you glances that were a few seconds too long, a hand grazing just a little slower, him waiting for you so he could walk with you to wherever you were going. 

And the teasing and bickering, god, it never ended. You didn't expect any different, being in close quarters with four boys and your three raunchy best friends, it was a constant war. You didn't quite know how to navigate these waters with Vessel though, it had been quite a while since your last boyfriend.

Your attention was brought back by IV walking back over to where you stood, a grimace on his face.

“Something happened to their booking system, they’re overbooked and we're going to have to share rooms until tomorrow.” 

Some sort of seniority took over his voice, “Maggie, Alexis, Liv you can share the two-queen room, II, III, and I will share the other. That leaves you and Ves with the last king room”, he said pointing between you and Vessel. 

Your eyes could’ve popped out of your head at that moment, but you schooled your expression hopefully before anyone noticed. You looked over to your bandmates and saw how Liv wanted to protest, but closed her mouth before she could say anything, knowing it was futile and everyone was too exhausted to care. It was nearing 3am and you were only spending two nights here before traveling again. 

Vessel's eyes instantly shot towards yours, a small smirk forming on his lips, his arms crossed over his chest. Those lips. 

“I guess it's you and me, then, love.” He gets up, standing to his full height before grabbing his duffel bag from beside him. The rest of the group rises and gathers their things, IV giving out key cards in silence. 

You look at your girls, bidding them goodnight with a small wave and suddenly your hands are empty. Vessel had taken it upon himself to steal your suitcase and start walking towards the elevators. 

Startled, Maggie giggles behind you at your expression. Breath leaves your mouth in a sort of sigh and laugh, and your tired legs begin to move in his direction. He is already in the elevator, keeping the door open for you. 

“Damn your long legs.” 

He turns to you once the doors shut, “I hope you have a little bit of energy left in you,” 

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?” You know what kind of tone he has, a playful, flirtatious one that makes you blush. 

“I guess you'll just have to find out, won't you?” the doors open to the new floor and he darts out, immediately walking in long strides and searching for the correct door. You try to keep up, watching him try the key card on the fifth door down the hall and entering. You walk into the blackness of the room knowing he's just in front of you. He nearly giggles as he turns on the bedside lamp and watches your face scrunch up at the sudden light. 

“You could at least warn a girl,” you yawn. Just as described, there is one large plushy looking king bed in the center of the room, a tv mounted to the wall, a little breakfast counter, and a door ajar on the other side, the bathroom. 

Vessel drops both of your bags at the end of the bed, “Okay, me first, I need a shower.” he announces. You scoff and nod anyway, both of you taking out your pajamas and toiletries you'll need to set them aside. 

Vessel puts his hand on your hip from behind you, the boldest move he’s made yet, “I’ll be quick” is all he whispers near your ear. The warmth of his hand lingers on you even though you hear the door shut. You finally breathe again, you had stood frozen for too long. Is this really happening? 

You finally search out the TV remote, finding some mind-numbing home renovation show. You watch a few minutes, zoning out entirely, before the knob of the door twists and you turn your head. Your eyebrows raise at the sight before you. 

He is a little damp, clothes in hand, the last few water droplets running down his lean torso, hair scruffy from the towel dry he did before wrapping it lowly around his waist. You almost drool before looking back up to his eyes. 

“My eyes are up here, darlin,” he smirks. You feel your entire being light up red hot before you want to implode for getting caught staring at the very… enticing area that he is putting on display. It's not like he wears those pants for no reason at shows, it leaves little to your imagination and he knows it. 

You jump up with your head down, grabbing your things and dipping into the bathroom without another word. You shower hot, needing an excuse to be as pink as you were with that fine man that you had been roomed with. Your pajamas were just an oversized Sleep Token shirt and a short pair of plaid shorts. 

After scrubbing the day off of you, you change into your pajamas before your hand hesitates at the knob. You breathe out. We are just sleeping. We aren’t even anything yet. Why am I being so dramatic about this? 

You summon all of your courage to open the door and look out to see Vessel in bed, scrolling his phone, the room only illuminated by the TV. You put your leftover toiletries and laundry on top of your bag before plugging in your phone and pulling back the covers on the other side.

Vessel looks over to you, “Come here, love”, opening his arms to you. You snuggle into his side and onto his chest, as his hand rubs up and down your back. You involuntarily let out a little sigh of relief, finally you can rest. You fall asleep like that, him holding you close and warm. 

You wake up a few hours later, having turned to your side in your sleep, one of his still around your middle and the other under your neck. 

You move slightly and become aware of something pressed against your ass. You immediately hold your breath.

You slowly breathe out, and try to inch yourself away. His arm tightens around you. Oh shit, he’s awake. 

Like he reads your nervousness, he starts to kiss along the back of your neck to the side, underneath your ear. You shiver at his warm breath. 

“Hmm, I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it with your ass backed up to me darling.” You smile and blush at his words, knowing the effect you have on him. He grinds a bit into you as his hand slowly moves towards the waistband of your shorts. 

You realize your shirt had bunched up just below your tits just as his other hand reaches up and runs through your hair, long fingers pulling just enough for your head to move back. You turn to your back when he easily grazes over your clit and you clench your thighs together. Vessel gives you a little growl in your ear and your thighs cave open as quick as your resolve. 

“I've wanted you for so long, sweet thing, and I've got you all to myself now.” His fingers move in slow, small circles over your clit and your hands go to his bicep, grabbing at him for more. You let out a small moan as you lose yourself in the feeling of warmth of both of his hands touching your body and the building starry sensation in your belly. 

You reach down towards his stomach, caressing down, trying to burn the feeling of his skin into your mind before coming into contact with the curls of his hair. You hesitate slightly and he quickly attacks your lips, like he's reading your mind again. 

You continue on to wrap your hands around his long, hard dick and begin tugging on it. He smiles against your neck and brings his other hand up under your shirt to massage your tit before pulling your nipple taut and thumbing over the hard bud forming. He does the same with the other while his fingers work their way into your wet cunt, one slender finger at a time. 

You are getting impatient now, kissing his lips and neck, sucking his soft skin into your mouth to leave your mark. He lets out a whimper before seemingly regaining control of himself. Noted for future reference. 

He slides down your body in a quick moment before licking up your slick cunt, making you nearly cry out. He tongues your entrance before making his way up to your clit and practically latches on. You claw at the bed sheets beneath you eventually finding his grown out hair to pull. You don't know if you want him to stop or if you want more, this is so much better than your own fingers. You buck up into his mouth and he locks his arm around your thighs to keep you from squirming away. That feeling in your stomach is burning. 

He makes a few deliberate swipes of his tongue in succession over your clit and he watches that you come undone beneath him. Your eyes roll back, your hips tighten, and you gasp out his name. He keeps his tongue flat against you, tasting your cum before coming up to kiss you. 

The moment you taste yourself on him is the moment you feel him press against your swollen pussy. You moan into the kiss, wanting more of him. He grabs himself to properly press his dick into you. He does it slowly, making sure you savor every inch. 

“Please, please, Vessel, please”, you beg him. 

“Please what, kitten?”, that slow devilish smirk comes back with a vengeance on his wet lips. 

“Please fuck me, I need you to fuck me.” You mumble out, embarrassed but full of anticipation. 

He thrusts into you fully, making both of you moan out curses. Ves sets a pretty quick pace but makes sure to hit the one spot inside you that makes your pussy tighten around him on every pass. He bottoms out, touching the beginning of your cervix and you see his eyes roll back. 

“God, you are better than I ever imagined.'' He reaches his hand down between the both of you to play with your clit again. This time though, your orgasm is quick to approach with him inside of you. His fingers move swiftly as you grind yourself down onto his cock to meet his every thrust. 

You are scratching down his back trying to find purchase with how full he makes you feel. Soon enough, the pool of white hot in your belly is overflowing again and he changes the angle just slightly, fucking you through your orgasm. You moan out knowing your pussy is clenching around his dick in a vice grip. Just as you cum around him, he settles deep within you and his fingers dig into your hips. His thick ropes of cum spill into you and he pulls out to leave your cunt messy. 

You open your eyes half-lidded after a moment, trying to catch your breath, “Jesus, did you… did you plan that all along?!” 

He smiles wide at you, “Which part, the room sharing or the me-getting-you-to-myself?” 

“Either?” 

“The rooms being short just happened to play into my favor, but I was plotting to get you alone this weekend, my sweet kitten.” He pecks your lips before moving to the bathroom to get a warm towel for you both. 

You sigh out as you watch him, “I didn’t know what I was missing out on, really.” 

You hear his sweet laugh as he comes back in, gently running the towel over your pussy, cleaning you up. You squirm a bit but are easily distracted by the kisses he leaves on your inner thigh. You let out a small yelp when you feel teeth graze and a quick nip before he pulls away. 

He slides in next to you again, pulling you close, “If I have it my way, you’ll be mine forever.” 

“I’d really like that,” you murmured against his chest. You feel him press his lips to the top of your head before you fall back into a satisfied dreamless sleep.

[nonsscrapheap]

TFP: Universal Observations

AND THUS WE RETURN! you are not ready for this reaction, i wasn't. kind of, this premise has been on my mind for a while.

i'll be adding in the word count now! 4.1k words!

time for the revelations of the very vague polls! or at least one of them!

Optimus and Megatron Working Together (Wholesome) is... Actor Au.

WARNING! LONG POST!

ACT 1: Show Acting - I -

[ ----- TP : UO ----- ]

[ ENTER KEYWORD TO START UNIVERSAL OBSERVATION ]

Omega Outpost One

"Key word?" Ratchet hears Rafael murmur as he and the humans gathered together by Optimus' side.

The Prime still looked downcast, the look of horror on the mech's faceplate was something Ratchet never wanted to see ever again. He'd seen it before of course, each time was just as terrible as the last but there was just something even worse, knowing why Optimus had looked so horrified in the first place.

It wasn't everyday that you watched another version of yourself perform a horrible act that had taken a friend from you. That Optimus Prime, Evil Optimus Prime, was no Prime that Ratchet would ever have followed and Optimus needed to get it in his helm that despite looking similar to the mech on the screen aside from the obvious differentials, Optimus himself would never enforce Empurata on anybot. Not even the Decepticons. 

Then again, Ratchet could sympathize with Optimus' feelings on the matter. Although his own counterpart hadn't exactly done anything on screen aside from attacking Other Knock Out, the implications of his words and actions alone… It disturbed him to no end. 

The knowledge that in another world, an alternate version of oneself could be so different from you… It's a lot to take in. 

Another thing that was a lot to take in, was the existence and the function of the sphere. 

As far as Ratchet has come to realize and gather from what's obviously been shown, the sphere was nothing more than an observation device. A very powerful one, capable of showing alternate worlds and cataloging them for repeated use. 

If the sphere fell on Decepticon servos, Ratchet feared just what the Decepticons would see and how it would work in their favor. So despite its mysterious appearance, it was a blessing to have it show up in their base, but Ratchet still needed to know just where it came from and how it got into their storage without any of them knowing. 

It couldn't have been the humans, Fowler already had a catalogue of their Cybertronian tech and items since he was their liaison. The children obviously couldn't have been the culprit, seeing as they had no idea what it was…

But they were connected to it now. They were in control of the sphere, not completely though. 

"Okay so, remember how Miko said something about shatter and glass? That's what triggered the whole thing in the first place! So we just um, need to say words and see if it triggers something else?" Rafael exclaimed with shaky confidence, unsure about his own suggestion but it was solid in theory.

"Uh, Monkey? Apocalypse? Music!" Miko shouted, trying Raf's idea. 

.: Cybertron. Iacon? Racing! :. Bumblebee bleeped in offering as well.

"Uh… if that's the case, then it would have already taken in anything that we were saying by now." Jack said with a frown, watching the younger boy give a look of thought. 

"Honestly, I don't know if we should keep messing with it." Arcee admitted, looking at the sphere with obvious distrust and lingering unease. "Sure, the only function we've seen so far is what, looking into alternate worlds where the Decepticons are good while we're…" She couldn't finish, glancing at the still silent Optimus who grimaced at the reminder. "We should probably just- put it back into storage." 

"Aww, c'mon Arcee!" Miko exclaimed, hands on her hips. "Sure, the first world we saw wasn't- wasn't that good but like- this is an opportunity to see alternate worlds! Who doesn't want to see stuff like that?!" 

"I'm actually with Miko a bit here Arcee, this is- it's pretty cool. The world it showed us wasn't that peachy but like. Wasn't it really weird to see the cons acting like the good guys?" Jack laughed a bit awkwardly, and he had a point. It had been really strange to see the Decepticons act like—

[ KEY WORDS ; SHOW ACTING ]

They all glanced over to the screen in shock as it accepted two random words from what Jack had been saying. "Just what is with its intuitive parameters?!" Ratchet growled out, unable to make sense as to how exactly the sphere was parsing through speech to gain the 'key words'- Bumblebee and Miko had been suggesting things off the bat but it was Jack that triggered its function this time?! 

("It seems the Autobots have finally chosen something." Starscream muttered in disdain, eyeing the key words and wondering just what was going to be shown this time. Megatron said nothing, his optics narrowed and frame tense.)

[ The screen flared before catchy music played, the words 'TERRAN-TRON LIVE' plastering itself over the screen and then disappearing. A large femme was sitting on a couch with a human woman sitting beside them on a platform built onto the couch. "Good evening everyone! Welcome back to Terran-Tron Live! Your late night show interviewing celebrity guests and more. I'm Polly." The human exclaimed, wearing a suit and waving at the camera.

The femme smiled with her, waving as well. "And I'm Caster, and we're here tonight with some very special guests!" ]

All optics and eyes blinked at the sudden showing of two people, a Cybertronian femme and a human woman, that they knew nothing about. "What in the…" Bulkhead trailed off, confused as to why they were watching what seemed to be a late night talk show.

"A human and a Cybertronian? On television? Live?" Ratchet muttered, the implications of that was... Pretty positive, actually.

Optimus, though still a bit downtrodden, couldn't help but perk slightly and look at the screen with intrigued optics. 

Miko was practically jumping in place with excitement, "Oh! Since this is a talk show with both Cybertronians and humans then humanity must like, know about you guys now! You're famous heroes!" 

.: I guess? I don't think I'd like to be on tv though. :. Bumblebee said nervously, a bit self-conscious over his voice box. Millions of people, humans and maybe Cybertronians listening to him beeping? Half the audience wouldn't know what he was saying! He huffed when Raf patted his helm in comfort, the little human giving him reassurances that he appreciated.

("What exactly is this?" Megatron deadpanned, unimpressed by the showing so far. 'Terran-Tron Live', a cybertronian and a human working together like this? Reminds him far too much of the Autobots, not to mention the fact they were working with humans of all species…)

[ "Humans and Cybertronians, give it up for- the cast of Transformers: Prime!" Polly exclaimed, gesturing to somewhere and the screen changes to show four bots on a large couch. Two mechs and two femmes, on another platform close to the couch, there were three humans sitting on a smaller couch like Polly. All of them waved at the camera and audience, smiling. ]

Jaws were dropped at the sight of Optimus, Megatron, Arcee and Arachnid sitting on one gigantic, Cybertronian-sized couch while nearby, Jack, Miko and Raf sat on a smaller couch on screen. 

( "WHAT?!" )

Optimus' backstruts straightened at the sight of him and Megatron on screen, sitting close together in such an amicable setting- things were obviously different though. For one, Other Optimus looked more like Orion Pax instead of Optimus Prime. His frame was more civilian-like, but a bit bulkier than the data clerk had been and his colors were red and violet with silver instead of his own colors. Other Optimus was sitting back against the couch with his legs spread slightly, arm hanging on the back of the couch and had an amused smirk on his faceplate. He seemed so young compared to Optimus.

Other Megatron was so much more different, gone were the spikes that were the kibble for the warlord. Instead, standard kibble with a shinier silver plating. Gone were the scars and scuffs that Megatron wore with ease, and his optics weren't red nor were they blue. They were a honey-like gold instead, pairing well with the polite smile on the mech's derma. He too, seemed so much younger than he or even Megatron, his frame less bulky as well- not warforged, that much was obvious but still slightly bigger than Other Optimus. 

Other Arcee looked the most similar, but the sharp edges of her frame and armor were softened and instead of a mostly blue finish, there were sections of magenta and pink that decorated her plating.

Other Arachnid didn't look nearly as menacing as the Aracnhid they knew of, but nor did she look as gentle as the 'Shattered Glass' Arachnid they just saw. Her edges were softer, her extra legs were nowhere to be seen and the sheer fact she was just sitting there besides Arcee? Absolutely mindboggling. 

The children looked quite different as well! Jack's hair was a bit longer, and he was dressed in a more formal suit. Raf's usually untamable locks were brushed down, also in a formal suit, and Miko— they had all gotten so used to the girl's wildness, to Miko's signature pink-coloring on her head that seeing her hair curled and completely black actually made most of them do a double-take. Especially since Other Miko was dressed in a dress-suit combo in soft colors. 

[ "Go on guys, introduce yourselves to the lovely audience!" Caster encouraged, and the camera's changed focus accordingly. 

"Hey there everyone, I'm Orion Nox, I play Optimus Prime, Leader of the Autobots in Transformers: Prime." Orion said with a salute and a grin aimed at the camera. 

"Hello, I am Dion, I play Lord Megatron, Leader of the Decepticons in Transformers: Prime." Dion greeted with a smiling nod. 

"Hi there, I'm Cycla, I play Arcee, warrior-scout of the Autobots." Cycla winked at the camera with her arms crossed as she leaned back against the couch. 

"I am Venami, I play Arachnid, spider-bot Decepticon defector at your service." Venami said with a slight nod, chuckling when Dion playfully called out 'Traitor!' to her. 

"Hi! I'm Rumi Atsuhashi, I play Miko Nakadai, Bulkhead's human charge." Rumi said, waving excitedly at the camera.

"Antonio Garcias, I play Rafael Esquivel, Bumblebee's human charge!" Antonio chirped , seeming to be just as, if not MORE excited than Rumi. 

"I'm Jackson Darby, I play Jack Darby, Arcee's human charge. Yes that's my real name, no I didn't get it changed at any point of my life. I have always been, Jackson Darby. The only difference between me and Jack Darby is that I prefer to go by Jackson instead of Jack." Jackson said with a crooked smile, exasperated but amused, laughter was heard from his cast members, the hosts and and the audience. 

With each introduction, there was a brief clip from the show that showed them acting in Transformers: Prime as their respective characters. ]

"OUR LIFE IS A TV SHOW?!" Miko screamed loud and clear, eyes bugged out of her head as she saw herself- or well, her actor?? On screen? "OH MY GOD!" 

"I-I need to sit down." Arcee said, feeling more than a bit nauseous- not by the whole 'in another world our life is a tv show' thing though it was part of it, but by the sight of her and Arachnid- doppelganger actors be damned - just… sitting there. On the couch, not trying to maul each other to death. 

Even weirder; Optimus and Megatron were sitting on the same couch, looking much younger and different, very different in Megatron's case. Or, Dion? What the frag even is this world. 

The fact there were clips, clips of moments that had happened that showed besides each one… 

( Arachnid had no words, she simply left. Or tried to, but Soundwave wouldn't let her leave. All the other Decepticons, even Megatron, were trying to process what they were seeing. However, the warlord did give Arachnid a glare, remembering how her counterpart introduced herself. She grimaced, but said nothing. )

[ "Unfortunately we could only invite a few cast members here, some had conflicting schedules or other things to do and we only had a limited amount of room on set. Even with mass displacement, we'd get a crowd here going." Caster explained to the audience and onlookers, she turned to look at the actors. "Thank you once again for joining us here, it's a pleasure to meet you and an honor to have you guys on the show!" 

"Thank you for having us Caster, it's a pleasure to be here." Dion replied with a respectful nod.

"I've always wanted to be on a late night talk show- especially Terran-Tron Live! You guys are the best human-cybertronian night show hosts out there!" Antonio gushed, practically bouncing in place. 

Polly laughed, winking at Antonio, "The very first in fact, well, not really me but my ma. Bless her soul. She established the show almost forty years ago after the Cybertronian and Earth alliance. My ma wanted to host a show with a cybertronian the moment it was possible."

"And here I enter the scene." Caster preened, servos framing her faceplate before she waved her servo. "But enough about that, let's talk about you! And YOUR show- Transformers: Prime!" 

A picture was shown on a floating screen, of Optimus and Megatron posed for battle with several other bots in the background. Transformers: Prime was in blocky text above. "It's you!" 

"It's us." Both Orion and Dion chorused with amusement, glancing at each other. "Look, you can even see Cycla and Venami in the background." Orion called out, pointing to where Arcee and Arachnid were in the picture. 

Cycla laughed and pointed as well, "And if you squint really hard, you can even see the kids hiding behind that boulder in the corner." The picture zooms in to see Raf, Miko and Jack hiding behind a boulder with Jack holding Miko back from leaving the boulder. 

Antonio giggled wildly while Rumi and Jackson grinned. ]

Despite the boggling situation, a few of the team and even the humans couldn't help but snort at the sight of the bit with the humans- it was so like Miko to try and leave the boulder, and of course Jack was holding her back. 

Optimus in the meanwhile, couldn't get his optics off of Megatron and himself on the screen. Or rather, Orion and Dion. They looked so at ease with each other, sitting side-by-side with no care in the world aside from being interviewed. 

Seeing the Other Megatron had been surreal enough, that mech reminded him too much of the old Megatronus that Optimus still secretly craved to see once more. But this? This made his spark ache as it reminded him of the good times Orion Pax and Megatronus had together as close friends. Yes their frames were different, their names and even their mannerisms but the fact they 'played' Optimus and Megatron and looked incredibly liked them…

Not every world has us as enemies, old friend. Optimus thinks to himself in private, feeling incredibly emotional for reasons he cannot, would not, explain. A sense of aching relief yet bitter longing and resignation settled in his frame that he kept to himself. Struggled to keep from showing on his faceplate.

No one but Ratchet would be able to spot it, and luckily for the Prime, his medic was preoccupied with gawking at the screen.

( On a warship miles away, a warlord is assaulted with unwanted memories at the sight of Orion Nox. His thought process similar yet different, tinged with anger and contempt that hid the nostalgia and other emotions that he deemed unimportant and frivolous. )

[ "Question for the bots here- we've got two of the most infamous rivals in the show sitting right here. And both pairs have had histories in working together, tell me, is there an actual rivalry here in real life, like in the show?" Polly asked, peering at the Cybertronians sitting on the gigantic couch.

Orion laughed, "Not really, at least for Dion and I- we've worked together before in other projects and sure we've been casted as rivals as some but honestly we're pretty chill." He glanced over to Cycla and Venami, "Now Cycla and Venami on the other hand—" 

Cycla reached over Dion to smack Orion's knee, only to gasp in betrayal when Dion spoke up with an amused expression. "Oh there's definitely a rivalry going on between them. Not as bad as in the show but, they've been competing against each other for roles in other projects. I distinctly recall Venami being quite peeved when Cycla was chosen instead of her for one project." 

"Dion!" Venami exclaimed with annoyance, glaring at the silver mech who burst out laughing alongside Orion. ]

Was it incredibly petty to feel pleased that another version of herself, even as a bizarre actor in a bizarre world, managed to one-up the alternate version of the Con that killed one of her old partners? Probably, yet it didn't stop Arcee at all from feeling just the tiniest bit smug. She couldn't help it.

Just like how Optimus couldn't help but feel warm at how close Orion Nox was with Dion, and at the fact they've worked together before. Or at the fact, while still rivals, 'Cycla' and 'Venami' weren't fighting each other as Autobot and Decepticon. It seemed like neither faction existed aside from within the show. 

( A spider bot while not really impressed, couldn't help but be annoyed at her counterpart's failure of gaining whatever role it was that the other femme managed to get. A warlord stews in unsettling silence. )

[ "Question for the kids! How's it feel to work alongside your Cybertronian co-actors? Must be pretty exciting huh? Are you as close to them as you are in the show?" Caster asked, leaning forward to address the small beings who beamed at her and the camera. 

"It's been great!" Antonio gushed, "They've been so kind to Jackson, Rumi and I and the other humans on set too! They're really careful in making sure we're okay." 

Rumi nodded in agreement, smiling happily, "I'll admit, I was nervous at first since this is the first time I've um, I've worked with Cybertronians who are really, really big most of the time but it's been fun! I'd like to say we're as close to the bots on set as we are in the show?" She gave the metal giants a shy smile and they all grinned back at her with affirming nods. 

"Not just the 'Autobots' either, the 'Decepticons' are pretty great too." Jackson laughed, "My favorite Con is Pulsebeat, aka Soundwave in the show- they and their cassette Glider, aka Laserbeak, like to pick us up and hoard us sometimes because I think we remind them of minicons and cassettes. It's really funny." 

Dion laughed, "And here I thought I was your favorite Con Jackson!" He said playfully while pressing a servo against his chestplate in faux offense. 

Jackson looked back at him, "You thought wrong! I mean- just look at them!" Jackson gestured to the screen as it suddenly showed Soundwave, or Pulsebeat? Without their visor on, grinning widely as they cradled a laughing Jackson, a giggling Rumi in his servos while Antonio beaming as he hung upside down from a cable claw. Their bird-cassette was perched atop Pulsebeat's helm. Another picture showed Pulsebeat mass displaced, but still big enough to carry all three children on his frame while they all sat on Glider who was in the air. ]

.: I don't think I will ever get used to 'nice' cons. :. Bee beeped, both somewhat awed yet perturbed at the sight of the relaxed and joking 'Megatron' and the pictures of 'Soundwave' playing with the human kids. Not to mention the sight of Soundwave's face- or rather, Pulsebeat? It looked extremely similar to the 'Shattered Glass' faceplate that Soundwave had but at least… at least this time, it was happy and not… The yellow muscle car bot shuddered, shaking his helm and focusing back on the screen.

"You and me both, Bee." Bulkhead muttered in agreement, optics squinting. "And I don't think I'll get used to shy Miko." He added in with some mirth, it was bizarre to see the girl smiling shyly at the bots (two of which were Cons but they kind of weren't because they were actors??) and not being as energetic as his charge.

"I know right?! Still, she must have some Wrecker in her to play me!" Miko exclaimed, looking up at Rumi with determined and curious eyes. 

Raf looked over to Jack, still on Bee's shoulder. "Soundwave? Really?" There wasn't any judgement, just genuine curiosity.

Jack still felt the need to throw his hands into the air, "Don't ask me! Apparently other me likes Soundwave! Pulsebeat? This is just- too weird." Not to mention the casual banter that other Megatron, or uh, Dion? Had with Jackson. Jackson who was him, who still had his name but went by Jackson instead of Jack. 

How come Raf and Miko had other names while Jack was still just, Jackson Darby? Unbelievable.

( An ex-gladiator and now communications officer stayed silent, as always, but there was a relaxed air around him now. The warlord notices, does not comment, just stares at the screen with growing displeasure. )

[ "Question for everyone! Was the season one finale surprising to find out, film, just- anything? I understand that Transformers: Prime was an original scripted show without being based on anything aside from the old Autobot-Decepticon civil war on Cybertron eons ago but fictitiously set on Earth." Polly questioned, leaning in with interest as the bots and humans glanced at each other.

"Oh definitely! The show's original writer, Rung, a great guy, surprised us halfway through the season's filming to reveal to us all dramatically of what the season's ending was and I just- I couldn't believe it." Orion said, actually sitting up straight as his co-actors nodded in agreement. 

Cycla snickered, "Yeah! We're all just sitting there, reading the script, baffled with how our show's first season ends. Which really shouldn't have been THAT much of a surprise I guess? When you start off the season killing off Cliffjumper- Revmaul, Cliff's actor, would NOT stop sending me jokes about his character's death by the way so screw you Rev, stop that - and THEN revive him as a zombie bot—"

"Terrorcon." Venami interrupted, Cycla rolled her optics but continued.

"Terrorcon, and then the Dark Energon kind of persists throughout the season… Naturally I guess, it all leads to the natural conclusion?" ]

"Season finale?" Ratchet murmured, optics hardening as he immediately realized the implications of what was going to happen. If 'Transformers: Prime' was a show about their current life then… "Optimus." He said sharply, gaining the attention of the Prime who seemed to realize the exact same thing. 

"I know, old friend. Autobots, pay attention. We may be learning important information pertaining to our future." Optimus instructed with a hard look on his faceplate, his frame tense as he readied himself as to whatever was going to be revealed. A part of him was slightly interested at the fact that apparently in that world, while the Autobots and Decepticon war had existed, it had obviously ended long ago. Long before Cybertron made contact with Earth, long enough that someone, this Rung person- a Cybertronian perhaps? Had made a fictitious retelling of it, was interesting…

The fact that retelling was apparently all about their lives on Earth was encroaching somewhat dangerous yet hopefully helpful territory. 

His Autobot team tensed, and even the humans watched closely with somewhat anxious eyes. Especially when Cycla mentioned Cliffjumper, Arcee hissed between gritted denta, feeling conflicted at the grief as well as unwanted jealousy and unfairness at the fact that Cliffjumper over there was alive. An actor who's character had died. But for Arcee, Cliffjumper was truly gone… His corpse, desecrated and turned into a monster… 

Her servos curled into fists, clenching tightly.

There was a sense of tension in the air.

( The same could be said for the Decepticons on The Nemesis. The warlord quirking a ridged brow in obvious interest. )

Just what was the natural conclusion?

[ "The natural conclusion of Unicron, The Unmaker, Cybertron's version of Satan- being Earth itself. Or at least the core." Caster finished with a slight laugh, sounding somewhat but only a little bit hysterical. 

"Cybertron's Satan is the Earth's core, yeah." Jackson nodded with his fellow humans, "No one was expecting that." ]

No one was expecting that indeed.

Chaos came to the Cybertronians of both Omega Outpost One and The Nemesis.

[ ----- TP : UO -----]

WAHAHAHAHA i spoil tfp season 1 to early tfp season 1. what a way to go. hehehehe, i wonder how that'll all go- but at any rate! i hope you guys enjoyed!

brief ocs of Caster, femme show host along with her human co-host polly! fun fact; polly is the daughter of Caster's original co-host who started Terran-Tron Live!

the actor's names were somewhat random- orion nox and dion are a nod to another fic of mine, called Twice The Primes where there are two sets of Optimus and Megatron, kind of. The other set of Optimus and Megatron, O-14 and D-16 were recently, officially redesignated as Orion Nox and Dion, so i decided to do the same here for the actor au.

cycla is just, motorcycle, i couldnt think of anything else for arcee. venami, just- venom, spider's venom but anami.

pulsebeat and glider- on the spot alternative names for soundwave that wasnt just... soundblaster and something else- i wanted to give him another name for his actor.

rumi astuhashi and antonio garcias- just random names and i just thought itd be extremely funny if jack was still jack darby but he goes by jackson. it'll get funnier when it's revealed that orion nox has to play orion pax in season 2 XD like human like prime hm?? hahahahaha

and yes, rung is the show's writer ;)

but yeah, this is the Wholesome Optimus and Megatron working together choice of the poll! they get to be co-actors with all the kids :D

what's the Serious version? we'll get there eventually! whenever that's picked out anyway. i don't know how many segments i'm planning to do for the actor au, at least three??? but yeah, this is... this gonna fun

i hope you guys enjoyed!

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[jumpywhumpywriter]

Living Weapon Whumpee part 10

Warnings: severe touch starvation, forced living weapon/fighter, captive living weapon, war, bleeding & bullet wounds

Whumpee jumped in his skin as the door to his prison suddenly came banging open, a heavily bleeding figure stumbling in.

He was shocked to see it was Flint, covered in blood and deep injuries, barely standing as he hobbled and stumbled over to the wall Whumpee was pinned against.

"We're under attack," Flint coughed, and blood spattered the concrete in front of him from his mouth. And to his amazement, Flint started uncuffing him, fumbling with a key in hands made slippery with his own blood. He ripped the muzzle off next, throwing it to the side, and Whumpee was too stunned to move, unsure what to do.

Flint stood trembling in front of him, bleeding heavily and eyes wild with terror as he coughed more blood on the floor. "Weapon... it's Leader's men. They're invading, and making their way to the North end of the facility, which is where the children and mothers are kept." His gaze was desperate and pleading as he looked at Whumpee, so different from the cold, collected general Whumpee had seen before.

"Myra is there," Flint choked out. "I might be making the biggest mistake in history right now by letting you out, but..." He shoved something large into Whumpee's hands, and Whumpee realized it was his fighting blades, sheaths and all. "We need Weapon. You might go back to Leader's side for all I know and kill us all, but I'm desperate. We are badly losing this fight. Please, Weapon... save us. Save Myra. You said you were tired of all the fighting and killing... if you help my men stop this senseless slaughter, fight one last time, then you will be free. I swear upon my life I will never force you to be a weapon like Leader has, and you will have your freedom back. I will not chain you again.”

Whumpee glanced from the daggers he'd been handed to Flint's face, searching for a trick... but he found none. "...Which way is North?"

"Right outside this room if you take a left then you'll be facing the right way," Flint wheezed breathlessly. "And take this too--" he shed his own protective vest and offered it to the living weapon, which had a few holes and blood spatters on it. But it was better than no protection at all.

Whumpee put it on, despite it being a few sizes too small for his tall, muscular form. "...You really trust me already?"

"No, I don't. But... I don't exactly have a choice, now, do I?" Flint rasped. "If you go out there right now, you're going to be fighting against your own team, killing off your allies. Do you think you can handle that?"

"They're not my allies anymore," Whumpee answered with venom. He remembered everything Leader had taken from him now, bits and pieces of memory slowly coming back.

And Myra... she needed help. And if it took him being the cold-hearted Weapon again, then he'd willingly play the role of the killing machine one last time. To save her. And... because he was beginning to realize more and more that maybe the enemy Leader had been pitting him against were actually the good guys all along.

Flint wiped blood from his brow with the back of his sleeve, breathing harsh and ragged. But his eyes were fiery with determination. "Then go out there... and do what you were trained to do, Weapon. Wreak chaos, and show no mercy," he growled. "I'll rejoin the fight as soon as I can once I get more ammo -- Leader's ambush took us all by surprise, and none of us were armed or ready for it.”

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

[vidavalor]

I don’t see the alleged handholding on the bus. I don’t. I’m sorry. I’ve watched it so many times. I want to see it. I see Aziraphale’s hand going towards Crowley, but I don’t see any motion from Crowley that suggests he’s holding Aziraphale’s hand.

Are we really, really, REALLY sure they’re holding hands?

Hi there. 💕 Yep. Well, I am, anyway, and I'm happy to share why. I have watermelon salad to share tonight. Ahhh, summer... 🍉

I don't want to assume anything but I've seen the "Crowley doesn't react so they aren't holding hands" comment places before and what I think keeps people from seeing it is the idea that they think that Crowley should have some kind of big reaction because they think this is new. It's not. We aren't watching the very first time that they ever hold hands; we're watching a long-time couple familiar with doing so.

If this were the very first time Aziraphale had ever taken Crowley's hand then I could see why you're saying there should be some kind of reaction. We'd expect him to glance over or for his arm to be seen moving a bit from what of it we could see. On the other hand, if you look at the scene with a different perspective-- one assuming that they're already in a place where holding hands is not unfamiliar territory-- then the whole moment is really set up to reinforce that through showing how comfortable Crowley is with what's happening.

Crowley doesn't have to turn to Aziraphale right away in surprise and we don't need to see his head or arm move because all that's really likely happening is that Crowley is letting Aziraphale hold his hand right where it is resting on his thigh. Maybe he's turned his hand a little to thread their fingers together. Maybe he's just rubbing a thumb over Aziraphale's. We wouldn't see that from our angle because it would just be movement from his wrist down... and that seems to me to be the point of how the scene was shot. The outside view of the bus at this moment exactly? An angle designed to intimate to us that hands are being held and that it is not a rare or new event.

Think about it this way: if they never had held hands before, is Aziraphale just going to take his hand on this bus out of nowhere? Probably not. Is Crowley just going to sit there if Aziraphale did? Probably not. We get two or so seconds after Aziraphale takes his hand before the bus finishes moving out of the frame wherein we could have been shown Crowley having a more surprised reaction if that was what the scene was trying to say but we didn't see one because it seems like that is not what is being said with the scene.

Aziraphale's movements are familiar; he already knows he's permitted to take Crowley's hand whenever he likes and that they both find it comforting. Not only have they just been through all sorts of exhausting craziness over the last few days but Aziraphale was discorporated. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get his body back or how and this is basically the first moment they are alone enough to touch since Adam gave Aziraphale back his body. The hand holding then is a way of showing that Aziraphale needs to both feel grounded in his own body and to touch Crowley (not totally separate things, really...). That speaks to long-time coupledom to me more than it does to something new. If you look at the scene from the perspective that they're already together (just as if you look at most of the series from that perspective), you'll see a lot of subtle things just like this scene that reinforce the idea.

I wrote some stuff awhile back that you can find here about the connections between this scene and the flashback one on the bus earlier in S1 that also might help show how that they're sitting together and holding hands in this scene is set up by the earlier scene, should you be interested in that. Also: the "magic hands" massage joke would also suggest that holding hands in S1's present wouldn't be considered unusual. I think that if they've been making love since ancient Rome, as I wrote about the show suggesting here, liking to hold hands isn't too surprising but I understand from where your doubts are coming. Hope this helps. 💕

[vprosper]

Still no account, but another snippet of this big ass fanfic below!

A bit more details this time;

it's going to be a slow burn (enjoy the over 80 pages folks...)

in the story/snippet , you just learned to read (why hello harsh childhood)

This part comes after 'Size doesn't matter'

-----

Bodyguard

The following days, you found yourself traveling with Clive to Northreach. Each on a chocobo, you made quick work on arriving at the Veil. You were fine with staying there, but Clive had assured you it was too noisy over there. So instead, you stayed at an inn just outside the city. “A room for me and my bodyguard.” You said to the innkeep. You found it hilarious that you pretended to be a wealthy merchant that needed Clive as a bodyguard. He still had his Branded tattoo, as Clive insisted the other cursebreakers where to go first with the procedure. You were actually on a trip to buy more supplies for it. But anyone would've been fine, so you were not sure why he asked you to come with him.

“The Branded can stay in the stables with the others.” The innkeep replied, assuming you wouldn't want him close during the night.

“On the contrary.” You replied with a fancy accent. You even bought some fake jewelry for the occasion. “He can sleep on the floor in my room. He's my bodyguard after all.” You didn't even spare him a glance, and you easily convinced the innkeep to allow the bearer to join you in your suite.

“As you wish ma’am.” He replied, handing you your keys.

“Quite convincing.” Clive spoke up the moment you locked the suite door behind you.

“Don't worry, I'll sleep on the floor.” You said, feeling sorry for the treatment he'd gotten the past days. Like your father treated you, Clive was still being treated every day. You didn't need an explanation on why the world had to change. Another valid reason to stay and help out in the Hideaway.

“No it's okay. You should sleep on the fancy bed. I already have one at the Hideaway.” Clive replied, trying to convince you. You wouldn't call that bed of his fancy.

“You know, I've read about this trope.” You said, sitting on the bed. Clive looked at you after he put his sword against the wall. “Yeah that's right, I've moved on from the children's books.” You were proud of that.

“I'm not sure where you're going with this. You booked the room.” Clive replied.

“You asked me along though. This bed is big enough for the both of us, and you with that tattoo would never get your own room.” You observed him, looking straight at his blue eyes.

“...” His eyes widened, as it dawned on him what you were getting at. When he was little, Jill was more into romantic fantasies than he was. She would often tell him how the two love interests got together. “I can assure you that I did not ask you along to end up in bed with you.” Clive defended. He had to admit that he might've entertained the thought the first day when you cooked that stew, but it had been years since then and valued your friendship more than anything. “Okay. In any case, you sleep on the right.” You say rather commanding, as to not show you were nervous. You trusted Clive with your life, but had never slept in the same room as a man. Clive just nodded, taking off his cape.

“The shops have closed by now, so let's take it easy and have a good night's rest before doing what we came here to do.” He said seriously, gladly changing the subject

Odd. I already thought we were leaving late. Is he trying to take it easier for once? 

“Alright.” You said, taking off your boots. 

I can do that. I'll just act like normal and we'll be on our way tomorrow.

You undressed, leaving on your shirt and smalls. You took your book from your bag and settled under the blankets. Clive undressed as well, leaving on his pants. “You don't need to keep that on because of me, that's probably uncomfortable.” You said, looking at his back. It surprised you how you were so casual on this. It was just Clive after all.

We're both adults here. This is no different than sleeping outside with Dio and Trevor.

“It's fine.” Clive just said. Maybe you made him uncomfortable, you realized. You shrugged, and got back to your book. It was a fantasy story about magical rings. “You got quite into reading.” Clive commented after he got under the covers, seeing you furrow your brows and staring intently at the pages.

“I promised Harpocrates I'd practice every day. This book however, has such long descriptions. Really easy to fall asleep to though.” You replied, flipping the page. Clive silently admired the effort you put in. He tried waiting until you put your book away, but his eyes got so heavy that he failed to stay awake.

...

If you still wanted a good night's rest, now was the time to put your book away. Clive was already fast asleep. He looked very peaceful. His chest went up and down in a steady rhythm. You could see several scars on his upper chest and shoulders alone. With a wry smile you observed him a little while longer. With his hair out of the way, you saw his full face for the first time. The stubble framed his face, the scar on his cheek, and there were no wrinkles or frowns on his forehead at the moment. You sighed, putting away your book and turning off the light.

Clive nudged you awake the next day. He was already dressed, which surprised you. “Oh, thanks for waking me.” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Clive just smiled as he turned his back to you as he waited for you to get dressed. As you put on your pants, Clive spoke up.

“We have some time after this, if you want to go somewhere?” You just finished putting your shirt in your pants.

“Huh? No that's fine, I know you're busy.” You replied, finding the question odd. You couldn't see Clive rolling his eyes.

“Listen.” He turned around. “Jill told me about your last bearer rescue. How you-”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” You deflected. It was a bit early to talk about your shortcomings.

“I'm sorry, it happened because of me.” He looked at you, and you met his gaze.

“What are you talking about? We failed to bring back a single soul, and you're worried that some bastard spit in my face?”

“Y/N…” You mentally slapped yourself. 

What is it with me and spitting people? Can I get a grip please?

And then you realized why he asked you along. To get out of it for a bit. Do something different. Take a bit more time. He felt guilty. “A talk would have sufficed, Clive. No need to go through all this trouble.” This suite suddenly felt ridiculous. Clive acting like your bodyguard felt ridiculous.

“I wanted to. I'm putting everyone in a tough spot, and you don't want me to at least try to bring some distraction when I think it's going too far? I saw how Jill looked. How you seclude yourself even more.” It was a desperate plea, and you felt your stomach churn.

“You should've asked Jill to come along, not me. She's better at these kinds of things.” Jill had a more sophisticated aura about her, and was better at shopping for fair deals than you were. You sighed, letting yourself fall back on the bed.

“Jill is accompanying Tarja. And it's about you right now.” Clive calmly said, as he moved over and laid next to you. You both stared at the ceiling. “I need you to buy me some medicine.” He chuckled at the notion. “These people won't talk to me, until this brand is off my face.” You turned your head towards Clive. He looked back. A moment of silence before you relented.

“Okay fine. We're doing this because you need the stuff for your operation, not because of me needing a distraction or whatever.”

“Good enough for me.” Clive said, as your gazes were still on each other. For a moment you thought something was going to happen. Then there was a knock on the door. “Breakfast ma'am, served in your room, just like you asked.”