#I tried to cram way too much in whoops

[izzystizzys]

the thing about being the highest-ranked and most-decorated officer in any GAR/Guard capacity, fox thinks, is that unsurprisingly nobody could give less of a shit or listen to anything he says. it’s not like he earned those medals and recognitions and perfect test scores or anything, now is it, kote?

or, after the zillo beast disaster, the coruscant guard medbay just so happens to be much closer than the GAR one, and surprise surprise, senators don’t want meatdroids to be treated in their facilities after they’ve just protected them with their lives. fox tries to reason against this. fox is unsuccessful, because no one listens to fox.

which is how he finds himself crammed into a corner along with cody, ponds, bly, rex and their jedi, looking out across a medbay which is quite frankly a goddamn disaster rivalling the fight with the zillo beast in proportions. skywalker tries to step out towards one of the medics, and has to be pulled back by the collar of his shirt by amidala, squawking loudly when he’s nearly rammed over by mauler, crucifix and a shrilly screaming crash cart.

it’s not like fox said this would be a bad idea or anything.

“um, vod”, cody begins, unsure, “what’s - is that guy sewing wooley up with thread?!”

meathook, who is in fact sewing wooley up with thread, and looks about as happy about it as his patient, and who fox honestly thought was going to cry when he announced the influx of patients about to descend on them, snaps something about triage over his shoulder at hound, whose arm is decidedly bent in a way it shouldn’t be, jerking his head to gesture at the rickety cot next to cody’s ARC. fox is pretty sure they salvaged the thing from a dumpster. he slaps a bandage on the stitches that fox fears might be from the same dumpster.

“putting those advanced reconnaissance training skills to use, kote”, says fox, who invariably turns into the worst possible version of himself whenever cody opens his mouth within a klick of his vicinity.

skywalker harrumphs, evidently at the end of his impressive patience. “well, why?! hey, trooper! these men need bacta!”

“do they, now? i’m sorry, i hadn’t noticed”, a low voice hisses angrily behind them, and fox is the only one who doesn’t jump on account of he’s too dead inside to be scared of his CMO anymore. a grave error, he’s sure. “i guess i’ll just go pull some out of my ass along with a tank and painkillers, then! hadn’t thought of that yet!”

warcrime, whose eye is twitching and who is holding a bloody saw in visible consideration of using it, pins skywalker with a look that has had shinies all over the guard peeing themselves. “we don’t have any fucking bacta, you absolute numbskull.”

“but that can’t be right”, cody pipes up again, next to a very troubled looking generals kenobi and windu. fox sympathises very much with the patented migraine-glare on windu’s face. “why do you not have any bacta?”

“because i like to smear meiloorun juice all over my patient’s stab wounds, commander”, warcrime says. “it’s a homeopathic medicine thing. because the chancellor refuses to give us any, genius.”

“what?!” skywalker says, bristling. “that can’t be true! he wouldn’t -“ he’s cut off by his comm pinging loudly over the moaning and crying in the medbay, and warcrime leaning close enough to be heard with a whisper.

“well, he would, and if you don’t believe me, there’s a holorecording of him telling marshal commander fox why biological weapons on the homefront have lower priority and therefore half rations of everything. now get out of my medbay or find out why they named me warcrime, sir.”

amidala, the collective braincell holder for both her husband and the senate combined (on occasion), tugs him out of the way of warcrime’s bonesaw and ire. fox, who very much enjoys not being the primary target of a medic for once, unfortunately also has to be the adult in the room. “sirs, a transfer to the GAR barracks medbay might be a preferable- AH, MOTHERFU-“

“get him, stabby!”, rabid whoops from where he’s resetting thire’s nose, who echoes a much more nasal and muffled, “go, ftabby!”

“get kriffing FUCKED, stabby, you absolute-“, fox seethes, trying to swipe for the medic’s head and nearly planting one on cody instead by accident, who unfortunately manages to evade the swing fox is admittedly projecting very obviously on account of the sedation hypo jammed into his flank.

“medbay rules, sir”, stabby calls, dancing away towards mauler and his crash cart, while someone bumps something solid and flat against the backs of fox’s thighs that he can’t help but tumble back on, already seeing two codys and blys dancing around his vision. “commander fox protocol dictates he is to be helped to sleep as often as possible, sir.”

“a desperate but well-founded measure, i’m sure”, kenobi of all people agrees, and fox waves an unsteady hand in what might be the general’s direction to the sound of cody’s scandalized gasp. “as you were, officer… stabby.”

“traitors”, fox slurs, just as his com-unit begins to ping with an urgent notification. before he can try and answer it, warcrime has ripped it off his arm and flung it somewhere out of his sight. eh, it probably wasn’t anything THAT important, fox thinks. and if he wakes up two days later to a near-hysteric meathook kissing the glass casing of the guard’s brand new bacta tank over and over again, he decides to just roll over and go back to sleep.

[proqhetic]

I'm so happy you're back!! I missed your yj posts on my fyp :(

could you write lottie x reader where they're at a party and the reader is tipsy, begging lottie to give her kisses, and lottie is just trying to put her to bed, thank you <333

a/n: i’m gonna cry dani ilysm😭😭 i got a bit carried away with this so im sorry if it seems kind of choppy 😥

the loud bass blaring from the speakers across the house was starting to give you a headache. you were a couple drinks in and the booze was just catching up to your system, swirling all your thoughts into one big whirlpool.

it’s been a long night of talking to random people and singing along to chart toppers from about 5 years ago. right now, you just wanted to find your girlfriend, really badly. you lost lottie at some point earlier in the night when she was pulled away by one of the other yellowjackets to play a drinking game with the rest of the team, and you hung out with some other friends from school.

navigating the sweaty, rowdy crowd was just awful. you were pretty sure this was practically the entire student population from your school, crammed into jeff sadecki’s stupidly big house. after squeezing past a couple rooms, you finally set your eyes on a familiar head of brunette curls.

you stopped in the doorway and watched on as lottie was zoomed in on an intense game of beer bong. she made that face she does when she’s concentrating — eyebrows furrowed, biting her bottom lip, the slight squint of her eyes. you couldn’t help but smile from the sidelines as she aimed the winning shot, and of course, she made it. a mixture of groans and loud whooping filled the room, as lottie happily turned to her teammate, shauna, and gave her a solid high-ten.

despite not drinking anything else, you somehow feel giddier than you did 5 minutes ago. but connecting the dots would’ve required too much brain power. instead, you stumble over to lottie and wrap her in a warm hug from behind. “congrats, babe!” you wish her with a grin, speaking louder than you thought you were in your head.

lottie yelps but an immediate smile appears once she sees you. “hi baby!” she greets, pulling you in for a chaste kiss, before her face contorts into a grimace. “oh, god, you smell of booze. how much have you drunk?”

lottie wasn’t typically one to drink a lot at parties, she wasn’t a big fan of the taste of beer. chances were you’d catch her smoking something instead.

“uhhm, like, just a bit…” you slurred out with an airy giggle, to which lottie groaned (affectionately). “i think you’ve had enough, we should get going soon, okay?” she said, pulling you aside by the arm. you whined at that, not wanting to leave so early. “nnooo, lottieee…” “come on, let’s get you sobered up a bit.”

whilst the two of you were walking to the kitchen hand in hand, you tried tiptoeing to give lottie another kiss, only to trip on an armchair in front of you and lose your balance. thankfully, your girlfriend has an insane reaction time and managed to catch you. “are you okay?” she hurriedly asked, pulling you up. “wanna kiss youu…!” was all you said with a cheeky smile. “no kisses until you’re sobered up!” lottie spoke firmly and you pouted the rest of the way there.

she pours you a glass of water and tells you to drink up. “mm, kiss first?” lottie rolled her eyes at how persistent you’re being, but eventually caved and gave you a peck on your cheek. “that’s all you’re getting. now drink up and we can leave!” content with what you got, you obliged and drank everything.

a moment passes and both of you stay standing, leaned against the kitchen island. lottie reaches over to brush your hair with her hand, strands getting entangled between her fingers. you turn to look up at her with your best puppy dog eyes, begging her once again for a kiss. “pleaseee, i’m not drunk anymore…” however, she was strong-willed enough to shake her head. “let’s get you home baby, you gotta rest.”

the drive back to your house was a comfortable silence, until you started mumbling along to the song on the radio, extremely out of tune. eliciting a laugh out of lottie made you grin and filled you with a sense of pride, that same giddiness overwhelming you

“alrighty, we’re here.” she announced as she parked the car. she hurriedly got out and came to the other side of the car to open your door and help you out. (you’ve proven several times that night that walking in a straight line would be a challenge.)

reaching your doorstep, you realised lottie would have to leave soon, and she’s only properly kissed you once. “do you wanna, maybe stay the night? my parents aren’t home and… i could use the company,” you asked, your fingers tracing up and down her arm. lottie’s face grew warm at your request, “really? i-i mean, yeah, of course!”

lottie’s hand reached for the doorknob, but you stopped her. “wait!” she turned to look at you, her big eyes widening in confusion. “can i have my kiss now?” you asked one last time. “pleeasseee?”

the corners of lottie’s lips quirked upwards as she let out a soft giggle. “fine, since you’ve been so patient with me tonight,” she murmured as she cupped your cheeks and finally gave you that kiss you’ve been yearning for all night. you instantly melted into it and rested your hands on her shoulders, pulling her in even closer

“there.” lottie said breathlessly as you two pulled away for air. you felt lightheaded and just stared back at her, dazed. “now let’s get you to bed.”

[prolix-yuy]

I got honey bear and I think it would perfectly fit our underrated hedonistic feral trashpanda of a man, Ezra 👀

Thank you, LJ! 🥰

Darling Fanna, you know I had to give you the best I could possibly fathom. You are always so supportive and kind, and the best way I could think of to thank you was to make Ezra get absolutely WRECKED.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Position: Honey Bear

Word Count: 1917 (a big sendoff for a wonderful bangathon!)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, bisexual reader, Dom!Reader, bratty switch!Ezra, mentions of wlw, allusions to oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, oral sex (m receiving), anal play, rimming (m receiving), fingering (m receiving), biting, brief noncon thought (not acted on), cum play, cum eating/swapping, everyone is filthy and having a great time.

Notes: Here it is! The final Bangathon request! And I tried my hardest to make it as filthy, as bangable, as explosive as possible for an excellent finish! (how many more sex jokes can I cram in here?) Thank you for giving me the perfect final request, and thank everyone for reading and coming on this sexy month-long sleepover with me!

The moment you rise to the challenge, you know you’ve made a mistake. 

The other prospectors in your group had been drinking, something strong and sour-sweet they must have brewed from the plant life. Algora had many mysterious treasures hidden amongst its flora, including the delicate stamens from an indigo-gold flower you were collecting. You’d taken a few too many swigs of the hooch yourself, chasing the rotten flavor with faux chocolate ration bars. The slow unclenching of your muscles must have also unfurled your tongue when they began bragging of conquests.

“So much talk for a bunch of men who’ve never made a woman cum,” you drawl out, the boisterous negations rising as you slide your eyes to your target. Ezra - loquacious, boastful, self-assured survivor of the Green - doesn’t add to the noise. Instead he traces the inseam of his pants, and flickers his eyes up to catch yours. You hold them, challenging, but he only lets a secret smile curl his lip.

“And how many have you made crash against the rocks of pleasure, Quick?” he says, voice carrying over the din even though he barely raises it. The men simmer at the stare-down. Ezra had given them all cutting nicknames, but your own - quicklime, caustic, harsh, explosive - gave you a thrill you’d never admit.

“Many more than you,” you shoot back, peeling your fingers into a V and flicking your tongue lewdly between them. The men shout and jeer, but their voices fade into obscurity as you stand against the man who’d been haunting your nights. Stalking outside your tent, sometimes lingering too long, his shadow stretched across the canvas. More than once you’d admired his silhouette jerking off as quietly as possible, prideful lust burning through your veins. Let him look on and desire, you’d think before indulging yourself. 

“Maybe so,” Ezra says nonchalantly, tossing back the last of the foul liquor and licking the pad of his thumb. Your cunt aches, too long without a satisfying partner, and too much alcohol pulsing in your intimate flesh.

“Don’t be sore, Ez, I could ruin you just as well,” you toss out, throat closing up the moment you say it. The challenge is too bold in such company, but it’s too late to take it back. Ezra’s eyes blaze, the sharp flash of teeth catching the light before smoothing into a bored eyebrow raise.

“Maybe so.”

You excuse yourself soon after, whoops and promises of mind-blowing nights following. You wave them off dismissively, knowing not a single man would dare try and test your patience. Rickel still has trouble kneeling from the slash you gave the inside of his thigh. Stripping down in your tent, you scrub the sweat and grime from your body. As the mud joins the rest on your dirt floor, the zip of your tent opens. Fury burns quick and hot in your chest, snatching at a knife by the bucket and spinning around.

“Your offer intrigued me.”

Ezra steps inside the tent flap, zipping it shut behind him. Lowering the knife, you stand in naked glory, preening while his dark eyes roam your wet skin. He lingers by your throat, and the thatch of curls framing your sex. 

“I wondered when you might gather up the courage to come inside,” you say, toweling yourself dry as he steps closer. 

“Does it not make your heart race, standing just on the precipice of something?” Ezra reaches for your skin, but you toss the sopping rag at him instead.

“You're filthy. If you want to know my touch, clean yourself first.”

You actually prefer it that way, musky and sweaty when you indulge, but delight in Ezra following orders. He strips free of his sweat-stained clothing, squeezing water over the hard planes of his back. Even reaching for your soap, lathering it in his armpits, scrubbing his fingernails, and then sudsing his cock. His eyes hood with desire as he strokes himself, letting you watch him grow generously. Another squeeze of water leaves bubbles to pop in the dirt, and Ezra drying himself with your towel.

“Lie down,” you order, and he obeys with amusement in his eyes. You suspect he’s often the one in charge, but his flushed cock twitches at your tone. “Arms up,” you add, and while he raises his eyebrows he lifts his hands above his head, resting them on the pillow under it.

By Kevva he looks gorgeous like this, a feast to be devoured. You hurry to straddle him, sliding your fingers up his arm to press his hands into the bed.

“You promised ruin,” he teases, lifting his jaw to steal a kiss, but you raise just out of reach. The distraction is perfect, because just as he pouts you close the restraints around his wrists. 

The change is electric; his face hardens, eyes turning flinty and indignant with the start of anger, but you grip his chin and hold him to your gaze.

“You’ll have to trust me,” you say. The moment crackles between you, waiting for him to refuse. Instead he lays back and chuckles.

“You know, with this right hand I can easily escape these bonds,” he says, and you catch him trying to gain advantage. Sliding off his lap, you slip between his thighs instead. 

“Does it feel pain?” you ask, dragging your nails slowly down his chest. He arches, a strangled noise in his throat. A pearly drop of precum beads at the tip of his cock, and you spread it across his silky head. 

“Not a lick,” he chokes out. Leaning forward, your hips pressing into the cradle of his, you sink your teeth into his bicep just below the pink line of his true flesh. Fisting his cock, you rut your hips into him, a firm stroke up and down punching a groan from Ezra’s slack lips. The prosthetic flesh feels realistic, and something primal, animal, roars forward. You bite as hard as you can, past the point where you would have drawn blood, and let the adrenaline rush through. Humping into Ezra’s taut body, you jerk his cock in time with your panted breaths, feral with his body finally at your will.

“Quick, fuck, vicious little thing,” Ezra snarls, pulling against the restraints but not breaking free. You release, sitting back on your heels and admiring the ring of teeth you’ve left on his faux skin.

“You’ll have ruin, Ez,” you say, voice thick with promise as you shuffle down to your elbows. He watches you with hazy curiosity as you lift his legs over your shoulders, knees hinging to grip your back. He keens out, and you’re suddenly very aware of how empty and dripping your cunt is. 

“If your sharp mouth has anything to do with it, I will not have the resolve to resist for long,” he hisses, hips canting as he tries to reach your lips. You reward him with a kiss to the tip and a swirl of your tongue, but dip lower instead.

“You’ll just have to try harder,” you challenge before pushing his thighs up and pressing your tongue to his tender asshole. There’s no gentle warm-up; you roll and flutter the muscle hard against his tight ring. Ezra’s hips shoot up off the bed, the rattle of the restraints loud and frantic.

“Fuck, Quick, fuck, fuck, by Kevva, you’re…never…I’ve…stop, please, I can’t…you’re…” Ezra can barely make a thought, which brings more pride than you thought you could gain from wrecking his perspective on pleasure. You continue your onslaught, easing back enough to let him catch his breath before forcefully fucking him with your clever tongue. You’d eaten out women who writhed and begged less, and every plea and racking sob you pull from his battered throat goes straight to your cunt. Wishing you’d fitted one of your toys in your neglected pussy, you settle for rocking against the worn mattress, just enough pressure to ease some of your mounting need.

Once you set a steady rhythm of stroking his weeping cock and breaching his greedy ass, you know he’s done for. He roars through clenched teeth, half-formed promises of how he’ll fuck you until you can’t speak, the debauched things he wants to do to you. You reward the ones you like with a scrape of your teeth, jolting his hips under your mouth. 

“Quick, please,” he groans, the edge of his sanity lost in his voice. You finally relent, lifting your head and glowing at his flushed body, shaking with unshed tears. 

“Tell me,” you order, and everything stops. That’s worse for him, his hips punching up as he struggles to focus. 

“Can you be…inside me?” he asks, voice raw from overuse. You smirk at him, wiggling your free fingers.

“How many?” 

Ezra’s head lolls back as he heaves in a breath. “Two. Please, two.”

Slicking your fingers with spit, you circle his rim. “Deep breath, then let it out.” Ezra complies, and at the top of his sigh you slide your fingers in. The rest of his breath whooshes out, clamping down on the tips. 

“Relax,” you soothe, giving him a few strokes up and down his cock to redirect his attention. When he’s still tight and shuddering you scold, “Ez, if you don’t relax I’m gonna have to force them in.” 

“Fuck!” he curses, and a new wave of slick gathers in your folds. Would he like that? You taking what you want from him, pleasure be damned? Or would that only make it better for him? You lower your voice, huskier, sultrier.

“Take them, Ez.” 

Just like that he relaxes around you, letting you slide in to your knuckles. 

“See? Isn’t that good?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to fuck you now, Ez?”

“Please, Quick. Want it so bad.”

You rock your fingers inside him, finding the soft spot that rolls his eyes back and lengthens his neck. He’s close, cock impossibly hard in your hand and toes curling against your back. Grinding against the bed you chase your own pleasure, waiting for his body to tense up hard before wrapping your lips around his head and flooding your mouth. He snaps his hips up sharply, spilling his seed with frantic shouts and gasps. 

You work him through the aftershocks, holding his cum on your tongue until he’s beginning to soften in your mouth. Lifting off, you slip his legs back to the bed and lean over his chest, lips pursed. Before you can dribble his own spend back on his overheated skin, he opens his mouth and lays out his tongue. Your cunt clenches, crawling up his body as he waits patiently. Opening your mouth, you let his cum slide from your tongue to his, finally sealing your lips together. He licks greedily in, swallowing down his taste. You groan, tangling your fingers in his hair and smearing your neglected cunt against his stomach. When you finally come up for air, his eyes are glassy and ravenous.

“Now yours,” he says, a weak order but one you’re willing to follow. 

“Let me take these off you,” you say, fingers circling his chafed wrists. He shakes his head, lifting his chin with that wicked smile returning to his sinful lips.

“Once I get my hands on you, Quick, you’ll truly be done for.”

Straddling his face, you put a firm hand in his short hair. “Maybe so.”

Unfortunately for your productivity the following day, he’s right.

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

[chanshoesunite]

24 Days of CHRISMAS: Day 18

Content info: YN needs peanut butter for her mental wellbeing, but Chris tries to take the last jar on the shelf first. A fight (or flirt) ensues.

Word count: 974

Warnings: none, just a dorky lil fic Hare felt she needed for her soul

For a second, you contemplate if peanut butter is important enough to you to kill a gorgeous Korean guy over it, and you’re actually tempted, dimples or no dimples.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You are tired from a long day of studying and really, REALLY want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner before maybe cramming some more knowledge into your brain. So, you’ve made a quick run down to the grocery store to grab bread and peanut butter.

At the store, you quickly find the bread you like and make your way over to the aisle that houses all of the breakfast foods, even though, strictly speaking, peanut butter is a soul food more than anything else. You approach the right shelf an, from the corner of your eye, see a young man standing in front of it. You don’t really pay attention to him, though – you are here for sustenance and not men. However, just as you are next to him, you notice he’s reaching for the peanut butter, too – and there’s only one jar left.

“Hey!” you half-yell, “stop!”

The guy turns to you, obviously confused, and his striking dark eyes above a chiselled jawline and slightly too big nose hit you as incredibly attractive. Still, not what you’re here for. “Yes?” he asks, potentially fearing you to be a madwoman. Oh, he is right to do so.

You cross your arms and square up. “You cannot take the last jar of peanut butter,” you announce as if that’s a universal truth because even you have to acknowledge that, of course, he can.

The young man frowns. “But… There’s still chunky peanut butter?” He points at the shelf. “So… It’s technically not the last jar.”

You snort. “Everybody knows that smooth peanut butter is the superior option. I cannot let you take it from me.”

His frown deepens. “I’m not taking anything from you,” he says, visibly irritated. “I saw it first and you never even touched the jar.” He snatches it up and turns his back on you. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

You step around him to block his way. “I will not excuse you,” you hiss. “I have been studying all day and I just want a fucking peanut butter and jelly sandwich before my exam tomorrow. I cannot believe you’re going to take that from me, pretty boy!”

Whoops. You did NOT mean to say that out loud.

He smiles at you sarcastically . “I appreciate the compliment, pretty girl. But you see, the thing is, my lil bro also has a craving for peanut butter and I can’t let you take that from him.” You must admit that it’s sweet that he cares for his little brother’s wellbeing enough to start a fight with you in the middle of a grocery store.

At that exact moment, a sweet-looking blond boy with freckles comes around the corner. “Chris,” he chirps, “did you get the peanut butter?”

“Sure, Felix”, your boy – Chris, apparently – answers.

You huff. “You took it from me,” you whine.

Felix’s eyes become huge. “Hyung,” he complains. “Did you take away this girl’s peanut butter? That’s not a nice thing to do!”

Chris bristles at the claim. “What? No! That’s a lie!” He turns to you. “Tell him the truth! Tell him that there is plenty of peanut butter left and that you’ve never even touched this very jar!”

Felix’ wide-eyed gaze meets yours. “What did you need the peanut butter for?” he asks, showing much more empathy with your situation than his stupid (and stupidly handsome) brother.

You shrug. “I just wanted a sandwich. I have been studying all day and I must have forgotten the time.”

Felix nods, as if that makes perfect sense. “Well, hyung, I’ve found a solution - we’ll just have to invite your new friend over for a sandwich. Problem solved!”

Chris looks shocked. “You can’t just invite a stranger to our apartment, Lix!”

You smile at Chris. “But I’m not a stranger anymore! You even called me pretty earlier!”

He sputters. “You started it!”

“Oooooh”, Felix coos, beaming at you. “Chris has been single for a few months now, maybe you could ask him out? We’ve just moved into this neighbourhood.”

“FELIX!” Chris’ face is bright red. “Can you NOT try to hook me up with the girl who tried to steal your peanut butter?”

You are suppressing a giggle, as is Felix. “If you make me a great sandwich, I’ll take you out to my favourite coffee shop,” you promise, winking at Chris, who groans.

“Wonderful!” Felix claps his hands. “Let’s go pay then!” And off he skips towards the checkout counters.

Chris glances over at you. “I can’t believe I’ve got a date with the crazy girl who tried to throw hands in the breakfast aisle over a jar of peanut butter.” His voice sounds equally sour and amused.

You huff. “First you gotta prove you actually know how to make a good sandwich.”

Chris chuckles. “Don’t you worry about that - what’s your name, by the way?”

“It’s YN,” you say, extending your hand towards him, and you shake. His hands are big and warm and soft and you try not to dwell on that. “I must say, that’s the greatest meet cute I’ve ever experienced.”

Chris smiles at you, a real smile, and God, he really is handsome. “That will make a great story to tell our kids one day.”

You swat at him, and he just laughs as he puts a hand on the small of your back. “Come on, let’s follow Felix. We live just across the street, you’ll soon have your sandwich.”

And despite the fact that your revision notes are waiting for you at home, you decide to take a chance and follow the two boys.

~Day 19~

[quickspinner]

Too Good to Be True - Ch 2

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | ??? | AO3

“Damn, girl,” Kim chuckled as he pulled his truck up in front of Marinette’s new home. “Not bad. You’ve got a yard and everything.” 

“Yeah, thankfully Nonna pays someone to take care of it,” Marinette said, sticking her head out of the window to get a look around. There wasn’t any garden space, since Gina wasn’t around often enough to take care of one, but the two-story house had a wraparound porch with plenty of space for flower boxes if she had time to do some planting. 

First things first though. “Let’s back the trailer in,” she decided, eyeballing the width of the street. She was pretty sure they could do it. “I’ll get out and direct.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kim rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t roll over my neighbor’s lawns.” Marinette pointed a warning finger at him before she manhandled open the truck’s heavy door and slid the considerable distance to the ground. “I don’t want to make a bad impression.” 

A short time and only a few near misses later, Kim had the truck and the rental trailer backed into the driveway. From the porch, Marinette looked at her now slightly crooked mailbox and sighed through her nose. They had way too much work to do for her to chew Kim out now. He would only get sillier if she tore into him and then he’d be completely useless. Instead she just turned and unlocked the door. She went inside to put some water bottles in the fridge while Kim threw up the trailer’s rollup door and pulled out the ramp. He joined her inside for a quick walkthrough, as she pointed out to him which rooms were which and where her color-coded boxes should go. Knowing he was probably only half listening, she put a sticker on each door frame for reference. 

“All right, I think we’re ready,” Marinette sighed, rubbing her eyes with one hand. She wished she hadn’t stayed up so late with Alya, but it had been hard to be sensible when they knew it was the last time they would see each other for weeks. Besides, she probably would have been awake anyway, listening to the whirr of the hamster wheel in her brain. It was probably better that she’d been distracted, even if it meant she was more tired than she’d like to be. 

“All right!” Kim whooped, punching both fists in the air. “Let’s get this party started!” Marinette shot him a look and he grinned back. “Fifteen minutes,” he said, pressing buttons on his watch. “Whoever hauls the most boxes in fifteen minutes gets to pick what we order for lunch.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but grinned. She was glad to have Kim here as much for his abilities as a hype man as for his muscles. It would keep her from getting depressed or lonely. Or overwhelmed. There was an awful lot of stuff crammed into that trailer, after all. 

She would’ve let him pick lunch, anyway. “You’re on,” she said, and they shared a fistbump before Kim darted up the ramp into the trailer with another whoop. 

Marinette followed, not quite running…but she wasn’t about to let Kim show her up, either. He’d never let her forget it. On her third trip up the ramp she nearly ran into Kim as he was coming down with two boxes stacked together. 

“Don’t look now,” Marinette told him, “but I think we’re gathering an audience.”

“Where?” Kim tried to look around the boxes. “Are they hot?”

Marinette snorted, and stepped around him, pointing once she was behind the cover of the boxes. Kim looked over and saw an elderly lady studiously examining her flowering hedge with a pair of gardening shears in her hand. He deflated as Marinette giggled. 

“It’s the wrong time of year to be pruning those,” she said, patting Kim’s arm as she passed him up the ramp. “I don’t think she’s actually looking at the hedge.” 

Kim rolled his eyes and hiked the boxes up in his arms. “You’re just trying to distract me so you win, and it’s not gonna work.” 

“Whatever,” Marinette replied, though with the noise he was making clattering back down the ramp she was sure he didn’t hear her. When she came down the ramp she glanced again toward her neighbor, and there was now another old lady on the sidewalk, chatting with the first over the hedge as they shot less-than-covert glances over at the truck and trailer. Marinette freed a hand and waved at them, and they smiled and waved back, nodding cheerfully.

Nosy, but harmless, she decided, carrying on with her unloading. She wanted to get Kim back on his way to the city before dark, if they could manage it, and that meant she didn’t have time to indulge her neighbors’ curiosity at the moment. Hopefully they wouldn’t think she was rude for not coming over to talk.  

“Are you sure you didn’t accidentally move to a retirement home?” Kim asked her later. They sat on the porch steps, cheap wooden chopsticks in hand as they ate lunch straight out of the cardboard containers. Marinette couldn’t blame him for asking. Quite a number of neighbors had made their way past on one pretense or another, walking dogs or picking up papers or stopping to “visit” with the hedge neighbor. That lady continued to putter around in her garden, clearly watching, and was just as obviously enjoying being the one everyone stopped to ask for information. Though what she could possibly be telling them, Marinette couldn’t imagine. 

She dropped her empty container and chopsticks back into the takeout bag and held it out to Kim so he could do the same. 

“I guess we better do that bigass cabinet thing next,” Kim sighed, leaning back on one hand to chug the rest of his water.

“It’s not a cabinet,” Marinette shot back automatically as she tied the takeout bag shut around the trash. “It’s a chifforobe.” 

“It’s a pain in the ass is what it is,” Kim groaned. “I regret ever helping you pick it up off the curb.” 

Marinette ignored him. It was a beautiful piece of solid wood furniture that had only needed a little love, wood polish, and one new leg to be good as new. It was a perfect place to keep fabric since it had drawers and shelves to hold folded cut lengths, and a tall space that held full bolts. It was beautiful and inspiring all by itself, with carved leaves and flowers along it. Marinette had loved it since the moment she saw it sitting out with a pile of junk that even her grandfather would have called outdated.

She had to admit it was a pain in the ass to move, though, as she and Kim braced themselves on either side of it. It wasn’t the weight, although it was heavy, it was the height. Marinette could feel it wobble as they lifted, but they got the weight balanced so that it was mostly centered. They’d just have to be careful.

Marinette was walking backwards as Kim directed her. Her cheek was jammed against the side of the chifforobe so that she really couldn’t look behind her, but Kim was tall enough to brace it and still mostly see around, so she followed his directions. She got another look at Hedge Neighbor, who was watching them move the big piece of furniture with round eyes and a hand over her mouth, obviously concerned for them. 

Honestly, how Alya could possibly think she could get into trouble in a neighborhood full of nice old grannies was really beyond—

“Kim!” she yelled as she felt the chifforobe tipping to one side. Kim only grunted in reply, already struggling to right it, and Marinette felt a moment of panic. 

“Whoa.” Suddenly there was another pair of hands holding the sides of the chifforobe, and Marinette felt the weight shift back to where it belonged. “Easy, I got it.” 

“Thanks man,” Kim panted. “Mind steadying it for us while we get it up the steps?”

“Sure,” said the voice. “Or I can take the other end if—” 

“Nah, Mari can handle it,” Kim grinned cheerfully. “It’s just ‘cause it’s so tall. If you can just keep it from tipping we can handle it. Yeah, Mari?” 

“As long as we do it sometime today, Kim,” she ground out, and the mystery person laughed. 

“Right,” Kim chuckled breathlessly. “All right, go!”

Marinette felt backward with her foot, and then backed up the porch stairs without any further mishap. They kept going up the stairs inside, and with the help of the stranger, who kept the weight balanced where they needed it, they hauled the big thing all the way up to Marinette’s new studio. 

They set it down and Kim let out a whoop, punching up with both fists. “Told you we could do it!”

“Yeah,” Marinette said dryly, straightening more slowly. “With a little help.” Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at their helper. Unlike the entire rest of the neighborhood, he looked around her own age, with sharp, striking features, blue eyes, and shaggy hair tinted blue at the ends. She smiled as she offered her hand. “Thanks for the save.”

“Happy to help,” he said, eyes fixed on her face as he moved to shake her hand. Awfully slowly, it seemed like, but then Marinette was in mission mode and everything seemed to go too slow for her today. “You’re moving in?”

“What gave it away?” she asked with a tired grin. 

“Well, welcome to the neighborhood,” he said, pushing his hair back from his face. “I guess we’re neighbors.” He gestured to the side, in the opposite direction from Hedge Neighbor’s house. “I live next door. Name’s Luka, by the way.” 

“Aww, Mari, already breaking hearts,” Kim laughed, and Marinette covered the distance between them in two wide steps to smack his arm.

“You are such a loser,” Marinette told him. “Come on, I’m not paying you to stand around.”

“You’re not paying me at all!” Kim complained, though he did start moving. Marinette followed him and Luka followed her back down the stairs.

“Cookies,” Marinette reminded Kim. “It counts.” She glanced over her shoulder at Luka. “I’ll bring you some too. As thanks for saving my favorite piece of furniture from crashing into the concrete.” 

“I can’t say no to that.” His voice was low and amused, soft to her ears after Kim’s chronic shouting. Marinette looked back at him and smiled warmly. He seemed nice. 

“Only an idiot would say no to Mari’s cookies,” Kim said, and then paused, seeming to consider what he’d said, and began to snicker. Marinette punched him in the arm again as she passed him.

“Whatever your filthy mind is thinking, keep it to yourself,” she sniffed. 

“I’m just saying, everyone wants your cookies,” Kim snickered. “Nathaniel, Nino, Adr—” He cut off in a whoosh as Marinette turned and landed a small fist to his stomach. 

“I can take you, Lê Chiến Kim,” she warned him, pointing a finger in his face as he bent over.

“Only because you cheat,” Kim wheezed.

Marinette rolled her eyes and looked at Luka. “Please ignore him. He was dropped on his head as a child.” 

Luka snorted softly. “My sister and I are the same way. It’s how we show love.” He was still watching her, and if she hadn’t already been flushed from the exertion, she probably would have blushed. He was damn cute, but did he have to stare like that? 

“We’re not related,” she said, wrinkling her nose at Kim. “Thank goodness. But we might as well be.” She sighed dramatically. “I’ll never be able to get rid of him.” 

“I don’t know Mari,” Kim said, still rubbing his belly as he straightened and grinned at her. “Moving to Grannyville in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere might just do it.” He looked at Luka. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Luka replied, grinning, darting a glance at Kim before looking back at Marinette. “I didn’t even know Gina had the place on the market.”

“Oh, she didn’t,” Marinette assured him. “I’m her granddaughter. Since she’s hardly ever home anyway she offered the house to me, as long as I keep a place for her to sleep while she’s in town.” 

“Sounds like a sweet deal,” Luka laughed. “I hardly ever see her, but I didn’t realize she was away that much.” 

A little warning tingle in the back of Marinette’s mind reminded her that it might not be a great idea to publicize the fact that she'd be living here mostly alone—but if he lived next door he'd definitely figure it out anyway. 

“Always on the move, that’s Nonna. Still, you never know when she's going to pop up,” she replied as cheerfully as she could, hoping to steer a middle ground. 

Not that her neighbor was likely to try anything when he'd surely be the first suspect. 

Ugh, Alya , she grumbled in her mind. She blinked as she realized Luka was speaking to her. 

“Sorry, what?” she asked, bringing her mind back to the moment.

“Can I give you a hand with the rest of it?” Luka repeated, gesturing towards the trailer. 

“Oh, no need, that was the last big piece,” Marinette said hurriedly, “Kim and I can handle the rest. I don't want to disrupt your whole day.” She gestured to his hands, which were adorned with several bandages. “Besides, you don’t look like you should be hauling stuff.”

“Oh.” Luka flushed and shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. “It’s fine, just hazards of the trade. I work with a lot of sharp tools.”

“You know what that’s like, right Mari?” Kim grinned, shoving her shoulder. “How many burns did you pick up in the bakery this week?” He picked up her wrist, waving her own hand in front of her face, reminding her that there was a bandage on one side of it. 

Marinette made a face at him and snatched her hand back.

“You’re a baker?” Luka asked, and Marinette stiffened, folding her arms.

“I’m a designer,” she said crisply. “My parents are bakers.” 

Luka chuckled ruefully. “Ah. Rough being the family rebel, I know. Sorry for making assumptions.”

Marinette shrugged, suddenly embarrassed at her own defensiveness. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, dropping her hands to her hips. “Anyway, thanks again for your help. Sorry for taking up so much of your time.” 

“I didn’t have any plans,” Luka shrugged. “But if you're sure, I'll leave you to it. You know where to find me if you change your mind.” He tipped his head towards his own house and gave her a slow smile. “Nice to meet you, Marinette. I'll see you around.”

Marinette smiled back, feeling a flutter in her belly. He really was good looking when he smiled like that. Intense, maybe, but—

Kim coughed, very unsubtly, and Luka and Marinette both jolted. She moved towards the trailer and he towards his house as Kim grinned at them both. 

“Not a word,” Marinette hissed at him as she climbed back into the trailer. 

“I can't believe you sent him away,” Kim complained. “We could have used the help.”

“We just met, I don't need a stranger all up in my things!” Marinette shot back. She glanced back towards Luka’s house as she walked down the ramp. There was a dark blue utility van parked in his driveway, she now saw. Maybe he had just gotten home? They’d gotten here pretty early. She wondered if he had stayed somewhere else the night before, or she had just missed him leaving earlier. 

Kim’s voice right behind her made her jump. “He probably wouldn’t even know what half this stuff is. Hell I've known you for years and I still don't know what half of it is!”

They snarked back and forth in their usual, comfortable way as they hauled boxes and sewing equipment and secondhand furniture into the house. It seemed like it would take forever and then suddenly they were done, staring at the empty trailer. 

“Well,” Kim said slowly, “I guess that's it.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, and had to swallow a lump in her throat. “I guess so.”

Kim dropped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. Marinette leaned into him, appreciating the gesture though she tried not to breathe. Neither of them were exactly fresh as daisies at this point. 

“You should head back,” Marinette said reluctantly, glancing at the setting sun. “So at least you don’t have to make the whole trip back in the dark.” 

“Yeah.” Kim cleared his throat, then dropped his arm and tried to grin. “Watch out for Hot Neighbor Dude. Pretty slim pickings around here and he was eyeing you up like a prime steak. Don’t give it up too easy.”

Marinette scoffed and folded her arms, but when Kim turned towards her and wrapped his arms around her, she couldn’t help hugging him back, sweaty and gross as he was. “Take care of yourself, Mari,” he said into her hair, and Marinette squeezed him tight. 

Then she let go and stood back, smiling up at him. “I’ll be fine. We’re not that far from the city, and I’m sure I’ll be up at least once a month showing designs or buying fabric.”

“Yeah,” Kim agreed. He reached up and pulled down the trailer door. Marinette followed him to the door of his truck and stood there as he climbed up. He leaned out of the window, rubbing the back of his head. “Call me next time you come up, we’ll do lunch or whatever you high-powered fashion execs do.” 

Marinette nodded and stepped back. “Don’t forget to drop the trailer off before noon tomorrow!” she called. Kim started the truck, waved one last time out of the window, and then pickup and trailer trundled off down the road.

Marinette stood there for a moment longer, folding her arms around herself. It was hard not to feel a little bit abandoned, even though this had been her own choice. In rational moments she knew it was the right choice, and the right time to make it.

She still felt alone, though. 

Movement in the corner of her eye made her turn her head, and she thought she saw a shadow in the window of the neighbor’s house before the curtain fell closed again. 

Luka? Her skin prickled at the thought that he was watching but she shook off the feeling. It was natural for him to be curious, she supposed. He seemed nice enough, if a little awkward, and she was hardly one to throw stones on that count. The memory of his smile brought a curve to her own lips. 

Okay, enough moping. 

She dusted herself off, and went back into the house. Gina had cleared out as much of her stuff as possible, and everything felt empty and echoing, even with Marinette’s stuff moved in. She hardly had enough stuff to fill the whole house, after all, and what she did have was mostly still packed up.

Well, nothing like a little bit of organizing to make you feel more in control of your life. 

Marinette rubbed her hands together and looked around. “All right, time to get started.”

Fiction Master Post

[riko0youth]

Rollercoaster New year

Did I tale about how I had a Quiz on the 31th? no? thought so, let's go,

So i had an online quiz, i was carelssly studying for cuz they said its only 9 points and i was somehow sure i could wing it (bad, bad me), or just cram it, the quiz was sunday 9am (and we hated that with passion), but when i was starting my exam night cramming they Sent a message at 10 pm that it was moved to 9PM, i did a victory dance allover the house until my stomach and associated organs started to hurt, However, as a paranoid person i was scared half to death i would wake up to find the exam link sent for morning, i had to get reassure from people and get people to get reassure from people, before i could force myself to sleep, woke up, day went fine, i totally forgot it was the last day of the year until i was reminded, all my thoughts are on the quiz and the paper i had to turn in next day, so skip to an hour before quiz, i finished my half assed cramming and was doing questions, and still sus,the link wasn't sent yet, i did the mistake of following the group CHAT, someone had the mind to ask how many questions was the quiz and the usual answer got out, nine, nothing grand about it, but the all hell broke loose, The admin (Students Rep.) was like, Who says, and we all paused in panic and bomberes him with freaked out questions,

First arrow hit, He sent a crying emoji saying the doctor said its 20 questions.

Now imagine, you're carelessly prepared for a tiny quiz, already planning on sacrificing some subjects, since they prolly only had a one or two points in, and then you're hit was the fact that there's enough room for all subjects to whoope your unprepared ass and only less than an hour away from said whooping for you to prepare ANYthing.

Second arrow, he then said that he is trying to negotiate with the doctor, trying to convice her to prolong the exam time to half an hour, and we were like, Wait, then how much is it? and there were scrambled replies of 10 or 20 minutes and we didn't know who to trust, the fact of what we were about to face not really sinking in for me,

We tried to remedy the situation, finding any logic in that farce we reasoned that it must be half a point for each question, 10 points, not so bad, more room to think, all is good,

Now third, K. O., arrow hit, he sent another plethora of crying emojis,saying its 20 points.

(at that point someone angrily asked why he doesn't say all that in one go, i wholeheartedly agree) Half an hour, before said 20 questions quiz.

At that point, i acted when i do in really highly stressful situations, and kept calm and cool and chill about, i was like, okay this is happening now, let's end this, get it over with, and go cry about it to every single person i know later,(yes my uncles included, i've always found comfort in crying to them about hard academic stuff, like my trauma against physics, i somehow, by a strange twist of fate always got to sit with them right before any major physics test i had, including the final, and i found great comfort in that), 15 minutes, I locked my phone and continued to finish the questions i had in hand before running out of time just to Scream about in with fellow suffers, I looked again, couldn't help myself, five minutes later to find the admin sending on the Announcement group, "Okay guys, the doctor was just doing a Happy New Year Prank on us, the quiz is 9 questions"

You can guess what happened next.

It is note worthy, that there were people calling the bluff, people calculating with great logic why i could only be 9 questions, People saying that the doctor was probably joking, i was one of those people, say that the module was only 90 points, EOME, Practical, Final,Activites, how will they get enough points for those if the gave a whole 20 to a tiny quiz.

However, when one is dealing with our college, we learnt the hard way not to rely on logic and not to be too optimistic, yes, we suspected, but we knew better than to let our guard down while dealing with a college that tells you the number of exam questions and the exam time right before the thing itself.

So, instead of seeing my fellow Suffers in arm's reaction, i finished the questions first and tries to follow up.

Two minutes before the quiz someone said to start the count down

Exactly a minute before the quiz I sent lamenting that we're counting down to the beginning of the quiz instead of the beginning of the year.

Right after, they closed the group Chat, and I started my mental prep, Closed all the books and moved from the bed where they lay, cuz its not an openbook quiz. it took a few tries before the quiz opened.

All in all, the quiz itself was anticlimatic (for me at least, and I'm very much thankful for it) I lost a point because i didn't revise a subject as well as i should've, i avoided losing another point thanks to dear, dear, Spongbob squarepants (don't ask how, i make weird connections and refernces while studying, It very decidingly, very provenly (?), Works, so imma keep it that way) after successfully submitting (another thing i was greately thankful for) I Stood up, previously supressed Dizziness and Fatigue crawling back in with the speed of lightening, I went to the dining room, very obviously didn't eat, Drank a huge cup of tea (its a soup cup, Stolen/Gifted from my uncle, he was horrified when he saw me drink black tea from it,I have a bigger one now,almost 1/2 a litre I usually drink from twice a day,I always gleefuly smile when i see someone stares in horrified amazement/worry)

New year came and went, just happened, one moment i was still scrolling through food videos to get myself motivated to eat(I do suspect i have ARFID, but like my other mental and psychological suspected disorders, it remain undiagnosed) the next it was 12:02, i missed the ritual count down I am used to doing alone as the only person sentimental enough in the house to stay awake for it on a school night, I was kinda in a weird mood, but i woke up from it soon, My lil bro was surprisingly awake, not for the sake of welcome the first second of the year of course, I Told him happy new years, Shooting a text to each of my two enstraged from each other bestfrieds (Im like a child with divorced parents, the irony of it, what with my family circumstances, is not lost to me, in dark amusement i joke to myself that I get to experience both a failed ongoing marriage and a divorce, that was one of the reasons I was in a freaky mood), one replied one slept early, I aimlessly went to the kitchen, mood lost while watch a mundane Old Comedic Play on the TV, I Made something up on the spot in the kitchen, as you do.

Watching an eating, my brother joined me halfway for a while, we talked about that iconic actor we love, talking about Animation movies trilogy and Rewatching said movies and anime series and old,golden age cartoon we just pity the younger generations for missing out on.

it was honestly chill. still the weirdest Newyears eve i can remember. I was still Dizzy from the stress rush I had thanks to the quiz when i went to sleep.

[ryouverua]

The Despairingly Hopeful Flashback Light

“It’s been days since I’ve had a chance to insult people so do me a favour and line up in a row so I can have a go at each of you in turn.”

“Just.... enough energy... to pick that low-hanging fruit...”

Have you even slept at all since this all began?!

She... she’s fully ready to do this? I know it’s not participating in the killing game, but this still not how I want you to use your talent! Not at all!

Just before I go onto the good stuff, I wanted to bring it back over to Himiko’s fluff text because it’s so bittersweet to have her thinking about Tenko in this situation.

It’s hard to say though, Himiko - I think she would have difficulty accepting the situation in general and would try and encourage you to at least enjoy the time you have left. Would she be mad at you though? Mad, no. Sad, absolutely.

That is... exceedingly odd. We’ve only ever found them before by searching - but then again, who would be searching for anything now?

Maybe, but didn’t he say he wasn’t going to interfere with us anymore? I suppose that could be a lie too, but I can’t imagine why he would do anything like this now.

Closure is better than nothing I suppose. Though I’d argue that was... sorta, kinda what Kokichi gave us, in a way?

That’s the, uh, attitude? 8′D

“They don’t call me the Ultimate Assassin for nothing, kid.”

omae wa mo shindeiru

Alright then... well, let’s see it. She’s right, honestly. What’s the worst that could happen at this point? They’re days away from committing mass suicide! 

FLASHBACK LIGHT! FLASHBACK LIGHT! FLASHBACK LIGHT!

Is it the colours? Are the colours why I love this animated sequence so much?

Wait, Hope’s Peak Academy?

WAIT A SECOND ALL THOSE WORDS LOOK SUPER FAMILIAR

So it officially is now??? I always thought it might be in a small way (I mean, come on, Monokuma is there), but literally everything???

Hope’s Peak Academy, you absolute bastard.

Man, we’re really just going over everything, aren’t we?

~The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History~, which was then renamed to being the second most awful because METEORS RAINED FROM THE SKY AND WIPED OUT EVERYTHING -

Here’s Junko -

The Ultimate Catalyst. >>

Aaaw crap though, if she’s being brought up now... they can’t possibly bring her back for a third time, right? Right???

Now the 78th class’s killing game, most significant to history because that was what led to Junko’s death, I imagine -

We really are getting the Cole’s notes version of events, aren’t we!

I guess they can’t outright talk about Danganronpa 2 here, huh? Fair enough, honestly! Might as well give people a chance to play it without spoiling it too badly!

You gonna expand on that champ? ...... No? Uh, okay?

NO SERIOUSLY WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT CAME TO A SUDDEN END THAT ANIME WAS CALLED ‘END OF HOPE’S PEAK’ NOT ‘END OF THE HOPE VS DESPAIR WAR’ 

Wait are you seriously telling me the cult is the Remnants? I... I don’t know if I’m super happy about that, but okay... I guess it makes sense for them to try and latch onto something like this when their side has lost so much ground. Does that mean there were still a bunch of them lingering, left over from when their fight came to a so-called abrupt end?

Wait, Makoto did this? Would he be in his 40s or 50s then? I was hoping this would take a good deal after the other events, so I guess that’s one way to do it!

though with that said you didn’t have to literally chuck meteors at the prequels and burn them to the ground that is some serious overkill

hope hope hope hope hope hope hope

.......

Oh right, before I forget -

hope.

Please don’t sound so happy about that Shuichi, I thought it was actually nice for you guys to be from different schools. 8′/ Though I guess the whole reason were were considered ‘Ultimates’ was because you were selected as a representative of your specialty to attend Hope’s Peak, but still.

Applied? Weren’t they scouted? I guess Makoto changed the rules or something? 8′D

????? Am I just completely remembering things wrong because I swear it was a scouting process and not an application process...

Oh, that I like at least! Wait, does that mean there were 16 classes going on at the same time for a single year of students??? The logistics must have been a nightmare.

because Makoto’s normal meter has been completely, utterly destroyed by his own old class

.....

.....

LMAO

THAT

THAT WORKS TOO

.........................

eyes Kaito

......... Are you, now? Exactly... what are the symptoms of the virus, exactly?

Oh hey, it’s a new ‘New World Order’! Long time no see!

I MEAN... LIKE.... THIS ANSWERS SOME QUESTIONS.... BUT RAISES MORE....

I know I said I thought we were missing information that would help gel some things together, and this would explain why Monokuma is overseeing this game again, but I still feel like there’s more. I mean, also because even now we’re still in Chapter 5, but that’s beside the point.

Damn it the ‘h’ word is out of the bag and it’s like the game is trying to make up for lost time. 8′D

Weirdly enough, having the cult be the Remnants of Despair makes me more suspicious of Kokichi’s claims of being the mastermind? Is that just me? 

FML HOW DARE YOU BE SO CUTE AT A CRUCIAL MOMENT LIKE THIS damn you’re so small

So timeline-wise are we far enough away from Junko’s life and death for her to have become both a historical figure as well as a symbol? Do I have that right?

Mm, I mean, if we hadn’t had that whole ‘sister’ reveal I could see ‘let me witness the beauty of humanity in the most extreme of circumstances’ Korekiyo Shinguuji being a good, if slightly obvious, choice just off the top of my head, and without any relation to the Remnants. 8′D 

That I can actually agree with! There’s way too much of a coincidence between how things are being held for it not to be related to them, at the very least.

HEY EXCUSE YOU WE HAD A PERFECTLY GOOD ‘TRUTH VS LIES’ THEME GOING ON DON’T GO SHOVING THIS HOPE-SHAPED PEG IN WHERE IT DOESN’T BELONG

Literally my biggest question!!!

That.... That just seems like such a handwave answer! I know one of Junko’s things was how bored she got, and sure, Kokichi talked about how boring a lot of things could be, but the game was literally how Junko got her kicks! She was quite happy to see it until the end, and I’m pretty sure if Kokichi was following her script he would do the same!

Eeeeh? But like... Junko’s plan was ruined by Naegi, Kirigiri et al., right? She didn’t just throw it all away the way Kokichi has. Doesn’t that seem weird to any of you guys at all??

T... The number of times the word ‘hope’ has been said in the last twenty + minutes is leaving me dizzy.

“WOULD YOU LIKE SOME HOPE WITH THAT HOPE??? AND WOULD YOU LIKE TO UPSIZE THAT HOPE? IT’LL COME WITH AN EXTRA SIDE OF HOPE!!!”

Normally I’d love to hear more about your inner voice but right now I’d love for you to put it on mute. 8′/

I love you two but I am debating the pros and cons of pushing you both down the stairs leading to Kaito’s lab r/n

say hope or despair one more time

Aaaaw Himiko! My tiny shining light in this sea of hope and despair talk!

I am glad she was revitalized though - it was pretty scary watching her talk about having Maki kill her!

NO SHUICHI NOT YOU TOO

K1-B0 HOW TF DID YOU MANAGE TO GET THEM BOTH IN ONE SENTENCE LIKE THAT!

Sweetcheeks I am judging you inner monologue right now? Do you hear me?! I am judging you right now!!!!

If he’s the mastermind, it was probably a reward for getting so far, right? “Here’s everything else you need to know about the world that I didn’t get a chance to tell you.”

But if he’s not the mastermind aka lying about it, it seems like this is a way to disrupt his new power? Would he have really done this? Would he be able to access the flashback lights as the new king of the school, if he isn’t the mastermind? I mean, it’s not out of the realm of possibility - he’s got control of the exisals, and that shouldn’t be possible if he isn’t controlling everything - but if he also has the ability to give out flashback lights, why would he do it now? Is this is attempt to make them more interesting again?

Hypothetically, yes... though that conclusion does seem to be based on Kokichi = Mastermind. I guess to say everything I blabbed earlier more concisely, does Flashback Light Access = Mastermind, or does Flashback Light Access = Control of the School?

you wizarding nerd he’s not going to pop up if he hears you say his name

Or... would he? If he’s the mastermind, he should have access to whatever method of surveillance being used this game. This seems like a good time to pop up now in that case - gotta quash the rebellion before it starts - but he hasn’t yet.

Yes!!! Rally around Kaito’s safety!!!

SAIMOTA HAS BEEN REVIVED, BABY!!!

He did say he wanted the remote for the hangar and that he would be keeping Kaito there! So Kokichi periodically leaves to get food and supplies? I guess with an exisal, there isn’t much any of the students can do to stop him. 8′D

TSUMUGI IS THIS REALLY THE TIME

“Look guys, if I see a ship, I call it.”

also I’m a bloody hypocrite re: my saimota comment earlier

“SHIT SHIT SHIT WHY AM I SUCH A TYPICAL TSUNDERE TSUMUGI I’LL KILL YOU -”

TSUN

OOOOKAY that’s uh tmi, anyway thank you for your contribution!!!

?!?! :O Oh shit, when in the world did you get that? Did Miu have extras in her lab?

Oooooooh oooooh how clever of you!!! Damn girl, you’re good!

A;LKDSJF HIMIKO

AND NOT THE KLEPTOMANIA PART?!?!

Alright - so despite Kaito not being there, they’re able to hammer out a pretty good battle plan. Sorry Kaito, looks like you’ve been relegated to the ‘damsel in distress’ position! That’s... sorta close to being a hero? Related? Or something? anyway if you don’t think Kaito being a damsel in distress makes me incredibly happy you don’t know me at all

So they’ll be charging the exisal hangar tomorrow (gotta charge those hammers!) with an electrobomb to disable Kokichi’s access to the exisals and hammers to disable the shutter lock and as a back-up. It’s a good plan, all things considered!

.... But..... why do I have a terrible feeling that someone is going to be dead when they get there? For that matter, I don’t know why I’m saying it in such vague terms - I’ll be shocked if someone isn’t dead either by the time they reach the hangar, or while they’re in there. I posited the idea that Maki’s lab could be an alternative spot, or even Shuichi’s lab, but with both Kaito and Kokichi in there I don’t think there’s any doubt left. I also feel like the ‘potential victim’ list has been cut to the two of them too.... D: 

MAKI THE WHOLE POINT IS THAT WE DON’T WANT ANY MORE DEAD BODIES

Is this not just so incredibly reminiscent of what happened with Kaede? It’s incredibly tempting, I understand that, but we can’t make the same mistake twice! I also feel like this will be another case of 'wrong target’ but that’s a separate issue

Well said, K1-b0!

FINALLY a chance to use the nerdmugi tag again! It’s been so long! I’ll let that use of the word ‘despair’ slide this time, but only because of that.

C-CAN WE NOT NEUTRALIZE HIM

RYOMA’S CHAINS OR TENNIS NET CORD

KOREKIYO’S CAGE

GONTA’S INSECT NET

MIU’S GENERAL BONDAGE DUNGEON THAT I’M 99% SURE EXISTS UNDER HER LAB

THERE MUST BE SOME OPTIONS

Despite being embarrassed about being rescued by the others, I bet Kaito would be so proud to know that Maki reached out to the others like this and is working together with them to rescue him! She’s spent so much time caught up in her own emotional walls she created around her heart, you know? And now, finally, she’s letting some people in!

Okay now Maki this may not be integral to the plan or anything but I do insist that if the impossible happens and nothing goes wrong, you carry Kaito outside of the hangar bridal-style. Okay? Okay.

It’s wishful thinking, all things considered... but we can hope.

but first, time to get a certain robot’s underwear.

[hyogonokitsune]

blush -- suna rintarou x reader

here’s some soft suna smut, go fetch!

edit: here’s pt 2 and pt 3

virginity loss, slight praise kink, oral (f receiving), whoops! rintarou has feelings

4700 words

--

You were not quite sure how you all ended up on this topic, but it didn’t surprise you one bit that Atsumu was the one to bring it up.

“So how old were ya when ya lost it?” he asked with a grin on his face.

Suna glanced up at the sky as he thought about his answer. “Fourteen, I guess.”  

“Ugh, man! You beat me!” Atsumu groaned in annoyance. “I was fifteen.” It was slight, but you caught Suna giving him a self-satisfied smirk. Atsumu turned to his brother next. “What about you, ‘Samu? I don’t think I ever asked.”

“Pfft, like hell I’d ever tell you,” was the only response he gave.

The four of you were walking through Inarizaki’s dark campus together after the team’s evening practice. It was early autumn, and although the days were still warm, the temperature at night was beginning to dip lower and lower. You shivered as a crisp breeze blew past, digging your hands further into your jacket pockets.

“What about you, y/n?” Atsumu asked, peering down at you. “How old were ya?”

You had hoped he’d forgotten about you, but now that he had directly asked you could feel your cheeks reddening slightly. “I, uh, I haven’t done it yet,” you answered sheepishly.

“What, seriously?! You’re a virgin?” Atsumu’s eyes widened in surprise, but they quickly squinched shut when Osamu smacked him on the back of the head.

“Yell it a bit louder, why don’t ya? I don’t think everyone on campus heard you, dumbass.”

“Ouch, sorry,” Atsumu muttered in apology, but your blush had already deepened. “I’m just a little shocked to learn that our precious manager is a virgin.”

“It’s not really that big of a deal, honestly,” Suna said, his voice low. It was a little unusual to hear him defend anyone, but you were grateful for it all the same.

“Ya know, y/n, if ya ever wanna lose your virginity, I’d be happy to help out,” Atsumu said, giving you a salacious smirk. You rolled your eyes at his offer, a small laugh escaping from your lips as you flicked him on the side of his head.

The path split then, and Suna turned left to continue on by himself to the campus dorms. He waved goodnight to the three of you, and you noticed that his eyes lingered on you for half a second too long before he turned away.

 --

 Click, click, click

Your thumb pressed repeatedly on the end of your pen as you stared hard at the words in front of you.

“Hey, knock it off.” You looked up at the sound of Suna’s voice, his irritation plain on his face. “It’s annoying.”

The two of you were sitting on the floor of his room, Suna propped up against his bed and you leaning against the opposite wall. Loose sheets of paper and an open textbook were on the floor between you as you both studied for an exam the next day.

“Sorry, I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” you muttered, turning your attention back to Suna’s notebook on your lap. You were reading through it, checking that there wasn’t anything he had written down that you had missed in class. In truth, you were finding it hard to concentrate on the notes, as something else was nagging at your thoughts. You hadn’t been able to shake the conversation you’d had the other night, and despite Atsumu’s suggestion, he wasn’t the one you had been thinking about since then.

You had heard rumors around campus, and stories from some of the girls in your classes. At first it had made you a little uncomfortable to know such personal details about someone you had to see every day, especially since he wasn’t aware that you knew, but over time you gradually got used to it, and you were beginning to wonder about what it might be like to experience that firsthand. You were sure that it wouldn’t get out. After all, those rumors that you had heard had come from the girls themselves, never him; if you didn’t tell anyone, no one would ever have to know about it. Besides, after two and a half years spent on the same team, you two had grown rather close. There were few people that you could trust more than him, and, in your opinion at least, that was the most important factor influencing your decision.

You just had to think of a way to tell him.

Suna’s low voice cut through the silence in the room. “Maaan, I’m beat. What time is it?” he asked, stretching his arms over his head.

You glanced at your watch, sighing a bit when you saw how late it was. “Half past ten.”

“Fuck.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I think we’ve crammed as much as we possibly can for tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you replied as you stood up. The two of you started tidying up his room, and you gathered your books and pens into your bag.

“You want me to walk you to the bus stop?”

“No, I’ll be alright.”

“’Kay.”

You had your hand on the doorknob, ready to leave, but you found yourself unable to turn it.

“Suna?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, and when he turned to look at you, you felt an unexpected surge of confidence well up inside. If you didn’t tell him now, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to.

Dropping your hand from the doorknob, you angled your shoulders to face him head on, willing yourself to look him in the eye. “I want you to take my virginity.”

There was a slight widening of his eyes, almost imperceptible, but you caught it before his face fell back into its usual indifferent mask. There was a moment or two of silence, and you tried to keep yourself from panicking; maybe he was just trying to gauge how serious you were.

Eventually he spoke, the corner of his lip quirking up into a cheeky grin. “You sure you don’t want Atsumu to be the one?”

You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling. “I think I’d rather die, if I’m being honest.”

Suna laughed then, short but genuine, and you felt the tension ease from your shoulders. “I’ll do it, if that’s really what you want.”

You gave him a quick nod, hand reaching towards the door again.

“Come back here tomorrow.”

 --

 You knocked twice on Suna’s door and it opened almost immediately. He must have just recently gotten out of the shower because his hair was still damp, a droplet of water clinging to a lock of hair next to his cheek as he stared down at you.

“I was half-expecting you not to show up,” he said, a slight smile on his lips.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked as you squeezed past him to step into the room; he offered no response.

You dropped your bag and blazer onto his desk chair, and when you turned around Suna had moved into the center of the room, within arm’s reach.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” There was an uncharacteristic note of concern in his voice that made your heart melt.

You gave a slight nod, a small smile on your face. “I’m sure.”

Those two words were all he needed.

Suna closed the gap between you in one step. His left hand came to rest on your waist, his right moving up to cup your cheek as he leaned down to place his lips on yours. His kiss was unexpectedly soft, and you couldn’t stop a tiny gasp from escaping you in surprise. This wasn’t a Suna that you were familiar with; this was a Suna that was unbelievably tender with his touch, but you could feel a more passionate side simmering just beneath the surface by the way that his fingers ever so slowly applied pressure to your waist.

Unconsciously, your hands moved first to his shoulders, then to the back of his head, where your fingers buried themselves in his damp hair. Your touch encouraged him to draw you in closer, his arm snaking around your waist to press you against his body. His kisses were becoming firmer now, deeper, more urgent, his tongue slipping past your lips to brush against yours.

A feeling of warmth was in your chest now, spreading down throughout your body, and with it came a sudden feeling of uncertainty. Suna broke away from you and stepped back to sit on the edge of his bed, and the sight of him there suddenly stole away all the confidence you had felt earlier.

“Come here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The sound of it made your legs feel weak, but you forced yourself to step towards him. His hands moved to your hips, intending to pull you closer, but you put your palms on his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Wait a minute,” you said, a little breathless.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” Your voice trailed off and you swallowed hard. “I’m just a little nervous.”

You were embarrassed to admit it, but to your surprise Suna smiled, and the gentleness on his face was reassuring. “Yeah, I think it’s normal to be a little nervous.” One of his hands left your hip to move to your elbow. His fingers dragged lightly down your forearm and wrapped around your wrist, so that he could lift your hand and press it against his chest. “I’m a little nervous, too.” You could feel his heart against your palm, beating a little faster and harder than normal. The proof of his own anxiety made all of your apprehensions disappear, and you leaned down to kiss him. Before he could deepen it, you broke away again.

“Suna?”

“Hmm?”

“Could we turn the light off?”

“Of course,” he grinned, leaning over to switch off the lamp on his bedside table.

The room became dark, but the sun had only recently dipped below the horizon and your eyes quickly adjusted to the cold blue light coming in through the window. Suna’s body was outlined against the bed, his features hazy in the dim lighting, but his eyes were clear as he gazed up at you, imploring you to come closer.

He guided you down onto his lap, one of his hands on each of your thighs to place them at his sides. His kisses were needier now, almost hungry in the way that his mouth moved against yours. His hands slid up to rest on your hips once more, and when he slowly tugged them closer, dragging you over his hardening cock, you couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up from your chest. You could feel him grinning against your lips, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed, not when the feeling of his body under your hands was causing that heat to grow in your core.

“Does that feel good, baby?” Suna asked, his voice breathy and low. A blush crept up your face at his words, the tone of them so much more intimate than anything you’d heard before. You grinded against him again, causing him to moan lightly into your mouth.

Your hands slid down to press against his chest, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He paused kissing you just long enough to take his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor before grabbing your waist and drawing you in even closer. Tentatively, you brought your hands back to his chest. The heat of his skin, the pounding of his heart, his heavy breaths emboldened you, prompting you to explore more of his body. Your fingers traveled lightly over his chest, across his collarbones, onto his shoulders, across the back of his neck, down to his shoulder blades; every place you touched gave way to growing desire.

Suna’s hands wandered up your stomach and over your breasts to undo the buttons of your blouse, but he couldn’t undo them fast enough for you; you suddenly couldn’t stand another moment with the fabric between you, you needed to feel your skin pressed up against his now. Your fingers moved to the bottom of your blouse and quickly worked their way upwards, meeting his in the middle before tearing the shirt from your body.

His eyes roamed over you and he whispered something that you couldn’t quite hear. Before you could say anything, his head moved to your neck, pressing hot kisses into your skin, down the column of your throat and over your collarbones. The top of his head tickled under your chin, making you giggle; his lips left your shoulder with a wet sound as he turned his face up to look at you, but you dug your nails into his arms and whimpered at the loss of his touch.

“Please don’t stop,” you breathed.

Suna gripped you tightly around your waist to lift you off of him and shift you so you were lying down on the bed, his body leaning over you. Pulling one of your legs up so that he could position himself between them, he resumed kissing your neck, his warm breath tickling your ear. His hands worked their way down your sides, a trail of goosebumps left in their wake, to come to rest at the waistband of your skirt. He lifted his head to kiss you on the lips briefly before carefully tugging your skirt down over your hips and off your legs. His eyes lingered on your purple lace panties, moved up to your matching bra, and finally to meet your own gaze.

“These are cute,” he said with a smirk, one finger lifting up the band of your panties and letting it snap against your skin.

“Shut up,” you groaned, covering your blushing face with your arm.

“Did you match these just for me?” he teased.

“I said shut up, Rintarou!”

You heard a sharp intake of breath, and lowered your arm to see that the look on his face had shifted into completely unconstrained desire. He kissed you then, tongue forcing its way into your mouth, greedily swallowing your moans. You could feel yourself getting wetter as he pressed his cock in-between your legs; the sensation was becoming almost too much to bear.

Suna pulled away suddenly, and a thin strand of saliva briefly connected your mouths, glinting in the low light. “Hey, do you want me to wear a condom?” he asked, rubbing his thumb slowly over your bottom lip.

“Oh!” You were lying in his bed half naked, and his tongue had just been in your mouth, but for some reason that question made you feel shy all of a sudden. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I’m, uh… I’m on the pill,” you told him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. He only nodded once before leaning in to kiss you again.

One of his hands slowly slid up your side to your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple through the fabric of your bra. When he broke the kiss to move his lips to your neck, you leaned forward slightly to unhook your bra, tossing it on the floor with the rest of your clothes. Suna sucked in a breath at the sight of you, gazing at you almost reverently before placing his lips back on your throat, letting his hand blindly fondle your breast. Moving slowly, he made his way down your throat and over your collarbones, planting sloppy kisses every few inches, until his tongue was swirling small circles around your nipple, feeling it grow harder at his touch. At the same time, his other hand was pressing into your hip, fingers digging insistently into the soft flesh. That hand now started moving down over the outside of your thigh, pausing almost at the knee before running back up along the inside.

You gasped when he touched your clothed pussy for the first time, his fingers brushing against your clit through the fabric. You would have felt embarrassed at the wetness you felt seeping through your panties, but the feeling of having him touch you in so many places was too good for you to care. He was rubbing circles around your clit, causing a knot to form deep in your stomach. You reached with both hands into his hair, gripping the back of his head tightly as a pitiful whimper escaped you.

“Oh, Rintarou…”

“What is it, baby?” He leaned forward to plant a kiss on your cheek, his hand still working slowly between your legs. “What do you need?”

Another pitiful sound left your mouth and your nails dug into his shoulders. He sat up straight, his free hand coming to rest on your leg as his other continued to draw soft moans out of you.

A new feeling had settled in your chest, a need that you had never experienced before. It wasn’t enough to have him simply touch you; you needed to feel him inside of you.

“Rin, please,” you practically begged him, reaching towards the waistband of his sweatpants.

He gently pushed your hands away, a low chuckle rising in his throat. “You’re not ready yet, baby,” he told you in a soft voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Groaning, you fell back into the pillow, your breath coming out harder as he started kissing the inside of your thigh, slowly, painfully slowly, moving closer to where the heat was pooling between your legs. Both of his hands now hooked under your thighs to rest on top of your hip bones, pinning you in place. He kept his eyes on your face as his tongue ran almost lazily over your panties.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, head tilting back and eyes squeezing shut.

“You’re already so wet,” he murmured, and you could hear the smile in his voice. He was still licking you agonizingly slowly, relishing the way you squirmed around him. “Do you want me to taste you, baby?”

“Mm hmm,” you answered, a little too quickly in your eagerness to have him touch more of you. He moved one of his hands to hook a finger under your panties, pulling them to the side to reveal your glistening pussy.

His mouth was on your bare clit now, and the sensation was overwhelming. It was different from all the times you had pleasured yourself; this was warm and wet and achingly soft, and it was causing the coil in your stomach to rapidly tighten. He hummed lightly, the vibrations running over your clit and causing you to practically scream. When he lifted his face away from you, you nearly cried. He slid your panties down your legs and tossed them on the floor, leaving you completely bare before him.

Suna leaned back down, tongue running up and down your folds, swirling around your clit, kissing all over your pussy. Every single contact made your back arch, made your hands grip the sheets a little more tightly. He traced a finger along the edge of your pussy, gathering up the wetness before slowly pressing it into you. You clenched around him as his finger curled up to press into the soft spot within you, the spot that made your breath catch in your throat. You opened your eyes to look down at him; his mouth and finger were still at work on your pussy, but his gaze was trained on your face, sage-colored eyes glinting in the dark.

The coil in your stomach finally snapped, your orgasm falling over you in waves of intense pleasure. Your toes curled, legs tensed up around his head, hands reached down to wind into his soft hair.

“Rin-Rintarou!”

Suna kept his face pressed into your pussy, sucking gently on your clit as you came around his finger. The overstimulation was becoming too much, and your breath was coming out in labored sobs.

“Rin, p-please, stop!”

Immediately, he pulled away, crawling over your body to kiss you hard on the mouth. “I like the way you taste, cutie,” he sighed into your ear, nuzzling at your neck. “And I love the way you moan for me.”

You were panting, still coming down from your high. Suna’s hand came up to caress your face, thumb rubbing gently over your cheekbones. He waited for your breathing to even out before sitting up to remove his pants. You couldn’t help but stare at the way his cock looked; you had no reference point, but you were pretty sure he was above average.

He lazily stroked his cock with one hand as he shifted your legs with the other, positioning himself close to your entrance. He dragged the head over your pussy, coating it with the wetness there.

Suna was looking straight at you again. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice breathless.

“Yes,” you told him. He leaned down to plant one more kiss on your lips, before slowly pressing his cock into you.

All the time he spent pleasuring you already ensured that you were relaxed enough to take him, but even so, he went slow. He sank in a few inches before pausing, allowing you to adjust to his size as he peppered your face with kisses, before giving you some more. It took a full minute before he completely joined his hips to yours, a soft groan escaping his lips.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, his voice impossibly soft.

“Yeah.” You gave him a small smile, hands running up the backs of his arms to rest on his shoulder blades. It felt so incredibly good to finally have him inside you, to fill you up completely. There had been a slight pressure when he first entered you, but that was subsiding now, and you could fully enjoy the way his cock stretched you out.

Suna pulled his hips away from you, his cock dragging slowly along your sensitive walls. The loss of him drew a soft whimper out of you, turning into a moan when he pushed back in. His pace was unhurried at first, but with each breathy sigh you made he increased his speed, pulling out a little further each time.

“Rin, oh, oh…”

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he moaned, lips capturing yours in a wet kiss. “You feel so good, baby.”

He bent down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth with just enough pressure to make your spine arch, fingers gripping his shoulders tightly to let him know that you wanted more.

“Rin, I-I… oh god-”

He straightened back up so he could look into your face, his thumb and forefinger continuing to play with your nipple. “Does that feel good?” he asked in a low voice. You nodded, eyes squeezed tight against the pleasure, and another soft whimper left your throat. “You’re taking my cock so well, baby,” he murmured; you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten at his praise. “Do you want more?”

“Yes, please, please…”

He quickened his pace even more, hips snapping into yours hard enough now to apply deliciously pleasant friction to your clit. You couldn’t have stopped the sounds leaving your mouth even if you wanted to; every thrust of his cock made you come undone a little more. The pleasure radiated throughout your entire body, making you feel slightly lightheaded.

Suna placed both hands on the backs of your knees and lifted them, pressing your legs towards your chest. The new angle of your hips allowed his cock to press into that spot inside you that made your breath burn in your lungs. The feeling was unbelievable; you had never felt pleasure like this before.

Your eyes snapped open. Suna was staring down, watching his cock sink repeatedly into your dripping wet pussy. When your hand gave his shoulder a small squeeze he looked up, eyes locking with yours. His face was etched with determination, all of his efforts going towards making you feel good. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his eyes contained something that you couldn’t quite place.

“Are you gonna cum for me, princess?” His voice was husky, gaze burning with desire.

“Yes, Rin, please don’t stop,” you breathed out between gasps.

He kept his pace consistent, hitting that sweet spot over and over and over again. Your nails were digging into his back, leaving tiny crescent-shaped indentations in his skin. The knot in your stomach was tightening, tightening, tightening—

“Rintarou!” you cried out as the second orgasm overtook you, breath catching in your chest. Your legs trembled under Suna’s hands as he kept fucking you through it, groaning as your pussy clenched around him.

He could feel himself getting closer. He slowed his pace, leaning over to press hard kisses into your neck as you came down from your high. When your breathing started to even out, his lips moved up over your jaw and to your mouth. You kissed him greedily, hands moving to entwine themselves in his hair.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he asked, voice slightly hoarse. He was still moving against you, cock pumping slowly in and out of your pussy.

“Ah… oh,” was all you could manage to squeak out.

“Hmm?” He nuzzled his nose against your neck, warm breath tickling your skin. “Where, baby?”

“Inside… I want you to cum inside me,” you whispered.

With a groan, Suna started thrusting into you harder again. The wetness between your legs was audible with each stroke of his cock, and the sound of it only made him come closer to the edge. The sensation against your clit was pushing you into overstimulation, tears springing up in the corners of your eyes from the sheer pleasure. You reached down with one hand to grasp at his thigh, nails digging into the muscles working to join him to you, desperately trying to pull him closer, closer.

“God, I’m so close…” he murmured, face held so near to yours that your noses bumped each time he pounded into you.

“Oh, you feel so good,” you moaned.

“Can you say my name, baby?” His voice was hardly above a whisper.

“Rin,” you sighed, and his hips snapped into you almost urgently. “Please cum, Rin, I want you to cum for me…”

He buried his face in your neck, groaning deeply as he came. “Fuck.” You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, hot cum spurting deep into your pussy.

He was still for a moment, breathing hard against your skin, before slowly pulling out and rolling over to lie beside you. You felt some of his cum drip out of you, blushing at the sensation. The two of you were silent for a while, your panting breaths the only sounds in the room.

“How was that?” Suna asked eventually, turning onto his side to face you. You suddenly found yourself unable to look at him, pressing your face instead into the crook of his neck and humming contentedly. He chuckled softly and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” he asked, an uncharacteristic note of concern in his voice.

“Not at all,” you told him. “I liked it.”

You fell silent again. With your body pressed up against his, you could feel the beat of his heart, slowly steadying from its rapid pace. His skin was so warm, and you didn’t even mind the slight sheen of sweat covering both your bodies. You took a breath, inhaling his scent; you couldn’t describe what he smelled like, you just knew that he smelled good.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you must have been lying there for at least a quarter hour. You lifted your head to look at him and saw that his eyes were closed. Did he fall asleep?

“Rin?” you asked tentatively.

“Hmm?” His response was a low rumble in his chest; you could feel the vibrations against your palm. His eyes were still closed.

“Why were you nervous before?” You wriggled in his arms a bit, trying to get a better view of his face. “I mean, it wasn’t your first time.”

He opened his eyes, only to glance at you briefly before turning his head to look up at the ceiling. “It was my first time with you,” he mumbled, so soft you almost didn’t catch it.

With your hand still on his chest you could feel when his heart started beating faster. Peering at his face in the dark, you could have sworn you saw Suna Rintarou blush.

--

➣ masterlist

[lost-between-letters]

New Year's Eve

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader (she/her)

Word Count: 1,075

Warning: again, spoiler warning for around 8x13

Summary: New Year's Eve with the Winchesters

A/N: happy New Year!!! As always it's unedited because I have no time management (don't judge me on the title I am not creative enough lol)

This was the first New Year's Eve Y/N spent with the Winchesters and she was surprised how... quiet it was.

At least from Dean she would have expected some sort of party or bar prowl for the last night of the traumatising year behind them. To be fair, a top secret bunker of a even top secret-er elite society wasn't exactly the best place to host a big event.

Still, just sitting around and chatting in the common room, all crammed up on one huge sofa felt weird. Not unpleasant, don't get her wrong, just unusual. Sam had declared the day "case free" and Dean hadn't even tried to fight it. If she wasn't pretty sure they hadn't left the bunker in three days, Y/N would have feared that someone drugged them.

"Dude, gimme some rest, I was high on pain medication and sleep deprivation!" Sam complained and shoved Y/N playfully.

She kicked him right back and let her feet rest on his lap from there. "You're always high on pain medication and sleep deprivation."

"She's got a point," Dean said, a big grin plastered to his face, "We have to patch you up far too much."

"Shut up, both of you."

It would have been adorable how Sam was pouting if he wasn't laughing so much as well. Y/N hadn't seen these boys so smiley in ever - which was really depressing now that she was thinking of it. Which was her cue to put away the champagne for later as while she liked being giggly-tipsy, emotional drunk wasn't on the agenda for tonight.

The brothers were still bickering when she came back from the kitchen with a glass of water and two new bottles of beer (she was awesome, she knew). "Don't get stabbed then next time."

"Don't pass out next time," Sam retorted, a gleeful glint in his eyes as he saw Dean's scowl.

Who totally wasn't scowling from the glare he shot Y/N's way as she started to laugh. The girl the glare was directed at, sat down next to him unimpressed and handed him the bottle. Suddenly, Dean was much happier. "You're a sweetheart, you know that?"

"Only reason I keep putting up with you," she assured him.

Naturally, Dean had to wrap his arm around her shoulders and lean down to her conspirationally. The shiver than ran down her back was purely due to the gust of wind that had made its way through the vents. Nothing else. And the blush was the champagne's fault.

"I stand by my point by the way," Sam stated.

It was a pleasant if slightly confusing distraction from whatever Y/N's mind was preoccupied with.

"...What?" At least Dean was as confused as herself.

Sam put on his Cheshire grin and pointed at the two of them. "There is no way that either of you is better at Mario Kart than me."

"Guess you have to prove it then, library boy," Y/N challenged him, already getting up to turn on the TV and playstation.

Epic battling and lots of screaming followed. Things were said and regretted deeply, Dean threw a pillow at Sam, Sam aimed it back at Dean and hit Y/N straight in the face. Luckily, her enraged scream startled the older Winchester enough to fall off a cliff.

... A sentence that unfortunately would make sense in any other situation of their lives as well.

Due to the Winchesters' and Y/N's competitive personalities, the games soon got pretty intense and for everyone's sake, they moved on to two on two so at least one was always there to negotiate. Or well, rile one of them up. Fun with the Winchesters.

"Guys, it's almost midnight!" Y/N realised with a shock as she looked at the towering clock in the corner of the room.

Had they been playing for so long? Whoops.

"One more round," Sam's eyes were glued to the TV still, adamant on winning this time.

Meanwhile, Dean signed his downfall but actually looking up, checking the clock and finding out himself that Y/N was right. "Ah fuck, let's get going then."

Sam was still celebrating by the time they were topside again and setting up the fireworks. Y/N swore that these two got more childish the older they got. Not that she was particularly complaining.

Dean apparently was not as amused as her though. "Okay big boy, if you're so much better it's your turn to light the fireworks then."

"Jerk," Sam stated but got to work. Smart boy.

And then they were counting down to midnight, Sam checking his watch to make sure they were actually on time. It was filled with laughter and absolutely no feeling for actual time as the boys were counting approximately two times faster than Y/N.

While Sam was getting to work on the lint and lit a match, reaching the last ten seconds, Dean's arm wrapped around her once more. This time, it was her waist he was holding onto and Y/N felt herself being pulled to his front. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath fan over her eyelashes.

"Wanna be my New Year's kiss, Sweetheart?" Dean's voice was confident as always but his eyes were flying all over her face.

With a shot of boldness, Y/N locked her fingers in the nape of his neck and pushed him down to her level. Kiss now, freak out later.

"Happy New Year!"

Sam's voice and the explosions of the fireworks faded into the background as Dean's lips met hers. They were soft and warm to the touch, a tingle of electricity running down her back as he went straight for her bottom lip to nibble at it. It made Y/N gasp in surprise which gave Dean the chance to slip his tongue in and turn the kiss in a much more interesting direction. She grinned into the kiss and returned it with the same enthusiasm and angled his head for better access.

Only Sam's groaned "fucking finally" broke them apart. Y/N doubted that she would have ever let go willingly.

Dean on the other hand didn't seem to be half as bothered by the presence of his little brother and took his sweet time with pulling away. When he did though, there was a more than smug grin plastered to his kiss swollen lips.

"Happy New Year, Y/N," he whispered and nudged her nose with his.

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[ashintheairlikesnow]

I’m not sure if you have something planned for this already but wouldn’t it be the height of irony if Tooley got monched on by a starved Chris when he forgot to drug him? Just opens the door and whoops! He eaten!

CW: Whumper death, drunkenness, some dehumanization, blood drinking, bit of gore, vampirism, some very light catholicism

-

New York City, 1936

KING EDWARD VIII ABDICATES THRONE British Monarch to Wed American Socialite Wallis Simpson

Tooley kicks at the sodden, half-frozen newspaper stuck to his shoe, grunting with the effort it takes to dislodge it. His hands are buried deep in the pockets of his thick woolen coat, and he ignores the envious stares of others whose threadbare outfits are patched, whose gloves are little more than rags wrapped around their not-quite-frostbitten fingers.

Instead, he pulls his scarf up higher, tucks his chin beneath its knitted warmth, and finally manages to send the scrap of paper with its water-stained black-and-white image of a stern-faced soon-to-be ex-king and his Baltimore lover into the street, where it sticks in a puddle and soaks clean through.

The old-timers say a heavy rain is coming, citing their aching joints and bones. It's been a wet winter already, and the absolute last thing New York needs is more rain.

Tooley plans to be holed up in his nice warm little house for the whole of it. He's sold three paintings in a month, and he can spend the next few weeks on the next one until his hands want to drop right off his wrists without having to distract himself with petty concerns like money.

The liquor bubbles warm inside him, and even with the frigid air he's broken a sweat along his back, trickling to his waistband, almost a tickle. He stumbles a little, catches himself, coughs out a laugh as the cold air burns deep into his lungs. It can't penetrate the hazy heat of the drink, though.

Mel's always has the best whiskey, and Tooley has the green these days to pay for the very best indeed. He's spent what might be a whole month's pay - if he weren't the luckiest artist in New York - in a single night.

You might say he's made a deal with the devil.

He pulls the brim of his fedora down, shielding his brow from the bit of freezing moisture speckling his cheeks. He struggles not to giggle like a child.

"Got a bit to spare for a hungry man?" A rasping voice calls out from an alley as he passes. "Help me feed my family, sir? I'm out of work, sir! Got three little ones with hungry bellies!"

Tooley ignores him.

There are crowds like that everywhere these days, always pressing for help, for a little something more and more and more. Men out of work, men in bread lines, women with tired faces and sad children. He's had just about enough of it.

They're calling it a depression, and he finds the term apt enough, considering it seems the whole country's been tumbled into a hole and can't find its way out.

He'd take his muse to Europe and paint there if it weren't for the echoing tension that bleeds over across the sea. Every nation he's idolized for their arts is trying to posture at each other. Rattling sabers while the people sigh heavily and keep washing their laundry, like always.

Tooley was a child when the Great War tore his own family apart - losing an older half-brother to the pointless trenches, a father to the mustard gas that ate his lungs to pieces, a mother to her desperate, sharp grief at her husband and stepson's loss.

The War had rendered him alone in the world before he was even twenty, though he'd been too young to hardly understand it and it had had nothing to do with him.

Wars were for rich men to send poor men to fight in, and Tooley is hoping to have enough wealth to maybe just float right past a new one, if the rumors beginning to swirl came true and Europe is going to erupt. Surely, though, no one would let a second war as horrible as the last happen.

Surely not.

Still, even so, he can simply disappear if they try to call him up to fight. He has no one left to lose, after all. No one to fight for, no one to care for. No one but his pretty little model, all locked away, his to keep.

Tooley takes a sharp left and the streets begin to change from the harsher gray of the city proper into neighborhoods, houses crammed tightly together. It's not the best part of town - Tooley's parents weren't the wealthiest, and he doesn't live like a gentleman, he's got no need to, it's not how he thinks a proper artist should live anyway. Have to keep up the image of the nearly-starving creative genius, after all.

There are still lights in some windows, despite the late hour. Tooley isn't the only one drunk at midnight and still moving.

It's a mile or so from the start of his street to where his house is nestled between two others, close enough he could reach out his kitchen window and touch the brick of the home next door. He smiles a little. His nose aches with the cold at the tip of it, but that's nothing to worry himself over.

He's home.

It takes him four tries to unlock his front door, the key jabbing into wood and brass too far to one side or the other. He laughs, breath puffing white clouds into the air, his ears burning with the cold where his hat doesn't quite cover them.

Good thing he's not with a woman, tonight, if his aim's so bad with just his hands.

The thought makes him laugh harder, nearly a guffaw, loud enough that he's sure he's woken a neighbor or two. It's not the first time.

Finally, the key slides home and the lock clicks and Tooley moves inside. The house is chilled in the entryroom, but as he slides his coat and fedora off to leave them on the coat rack and moves into the kitchen, towards the back, he can feel the warmth slowly trickling from the ticking radiators along the walls.

He's due for a coal delivery in the next couple of days, and boy, he's going to need it with the weather the way it's been.

Tooley heads for his perfect little secret, the vampire held in the backroom, once a sort of servant's bedroom for some family that had owned the home even before his own parents did. It's his studio, now, and the place where the little vampire boy is kept.

He unlocks that door, too. A key, a deadbolt, a little sliding lock at the top for added safety.

"Here, kitty kitty kitty," He slurs, and laughs again, delighted at his own little joke.

There's a scrape and a rustle, and Tooley steps back to let the vampire boy move forward, out of the freezing unheated room - Tooley only turns the radiator on in there when he himself is working, it's not like dead things care about being warm after all - and into the kitchen proper, with its little two-person table.

The boy is looking dirty - he's due for a bath, long overdue honestly. Good things he doesn't sweat enough to stink.

His hair hangs lank in his eyes, closer to dark copper than the new-penny shine Tooley prefers. There are smudges along his cheeks, marring his perfect freckles. He's draped in a sweater patched badly where his elbows have worn holes right through, pants that are tied with a rope since Tooley sure isn't going to waste money on a belt for a corpse.

"Is, did, did you, um, did you bring me food?" The vampire boy looks up at him, eyes glinting a little in the dimness, that unsettling cat-like glow-in-the-dark effect. His little fangs flash, too. "I'm... I'm, I'm hungry, Tooley."

"I know you are, bloodsucker."

"It's, it's been, um, it's been weeks, Tooley-"

"I know, I know. Shut your trap." Tooley ruffles his hair, then pulls his hand back with a grimace as he remembers how dirty and greasy it's gotten, walking away to go to the sink and wash his hands. "We'll get t'that. I met with someone very important at th' bar tonight, and first things first, you and I are going to celebrate."

The boy moves slowly, staying half-crouched - he's been hit before, when Tooley didn't want him to stand all the way up. He settles himself against the wall, head tilted to the side. His cheekbones cut sharp angles in his face, edging down to his narrow chin.

Those big green eyes follow Tooley everywhere he goes.

"Celebrate what?" He asks, and Tooley wonders just how old the ridiculous little thing is. He'd said early aughts, hadn't he, on when he was turned? So he'd be, what, in his forties really?

Funny.

Was he locked up during the Great War?

He's still a pretty teenager, but he's probably closing in on fifty. Tooley's twenty-some years younger and looks infinitely older, in his own estimation.

Tooley should look into vampirism, seems an excellent way to hold onto your looks, doesn't it? He wonders if the boy knows how to turn him. They could make beautiful work forever...

Hm.

Something to ruminate over when he's hungover in the morning.

"New commission. I'm taking a few weeks off, give us both a break, but I've got the basic details. I'll pick up a broad, get her all set up for modeling, we'll make us a mint, sweetheart." He moves to the counter, picking up the half-full bottle of gin he keeps there, taking a swig and grimacing, coughing. There's a rattle in his lungs these days he doesn't like much.

"You'll, you'll kill her?" The vampire watches him. He looks hungry, with all those sharp lines emphasized, as though he were a painting himself still in progress, with the outline still written in graphite showing through the colors. He's pale, painted in wash, not yet turned to vivid velvet intensity with oils.

"'Course. You think any of my models would stay alive anywhere near you?" He laughs at the very idea, missing the vampire's little flinch as he turns away. He pulls a loaf of bread from the breadbox, already starting to stale but that's all right, he's going to toast it over the stove anyway. The world swims around him from the liquor, and he catches the counter with one hand to keep himself upright.

The feeling brings another laugh out of him.

The little vampire smiles faintly in echo of it. He has to work to get the stove to gas, narrowing his eyes as it struggles, sputters, before finally a little flame flares up. Just enough to give off a little heat for the toast.

"Fuck. Drank too much. Or not enough." He laughs again, and pulls a knife from the knifeblock, the sharp serrated thin blade best for slicing through the heavy sourdough he buys from a woman down the block. Bit of toast, pat of salted butter, that'll get him through to morning when he can head down for eggs and bacon at Paulie's diner.

Maybe he'll even buy some extra for the hungry men who hound around the doors. He can be a philanthropist.

As he slices, the knife slips off the stale, hard crust and cuts right through the back of his hand, a long line immediately welling with bright red blood. He groans, irritated, and sets the knife down, turning to run cold water over it as the pain flares bright, but slightly muted from his drunkenness.

There's a rustle behind him, and Tooley's mind only belatedly begins to allow alarm to trickle through the warm fuzz of the gin and whiskey. He slowly turns around.

Where the vampire boy had been curled against the wall, a bundle of skinny bones and too-big clothes, there's... nothing.

Tooley glances to one side and sees the boy crouched on the floor by the edge of the lower cabinets, his hands pressed into the ground. He moved five feet in less than a second.

His eyes are flared, wide and with pupils burying the iris in black. He clicks, softly, tongue against teeth in an inhuman way.

Click-click-click-click.

click-click-click.

How'd he move so fast?

"Shit," Tooley whispers. "When's the last time I fed you?"

The vampire doesn't answer, only stares, unblinking, muscles tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing. He clicks again.

His lips pull back from his teeth and those fangs that seem so cute and little on every other day suddenly look long, like daggers, dripping a shimmering venom to the ground.

Tooley tries not to blink, too, but his eyes dry and dry and dry and eventually he can't help it. His eyes close, a fraction of a second, and flare open right away.

Not fast enough.

The vampire leaps and Tooley grunts at the impact of the small bony body against his own, his lower back smacking into the line of the counter with a flash of pain. The bread and knife both clatter to the ground.

Panic comes, but it doesn't help. He's still groping to get at another knife when the vampire's fingernails dig into his scalp, grip into his hair and jerk his head to the side to bare his throat.

"Hungry," The vampire boy hisses. "Hungry, Tooley. Hungry."

"I-I know, just, just don't blow your wig, gimmee a minute, I can get you something, just hold on-" Tooley's voice is thin from the harsh angle his neck is being held at, and he swallows, seeing in a bleary haze the way the vampire's huge eyes are focused on the movement of his adam's apple, the bob of his throat.

Can he see the blood pulsing there?

He puts his hands up against the vampire's chest to try and push him off, but it's like pushing against rock. He thinks about painting the vampire as a kind of young Prometheus for a dandy from Boston, tied naked to a rock to be pecked at by eagles, and wonders if the mythological man ever tried to push the rock itself, and if it failed as miserably for him as it does for Tooley now.

"There's blood in the shed out back, just let me go and I'll grab it for you." He pitches his voice soothing and slightly patronizing, like speaking to a whining dog. "Okay, kitten? Just two minutes and you'll be fed, right as rain."

The vampire pauses, hesitates, and Tooley feels his hands working at Tooley's hair and one shoulder, like a cat kneading into your lap before they settle. His little stray. His breathing starts to ease, his heart to slow down, the first rush of panic subsiding.

The world still spins a little, but the rush of adrenaline is settling things into something more solid, wiping away the liquor.

"I'll put you back in your room and go get it for you, it's right outside, good and cold," Tooley coos, and realizes too late it isn't what he should have said.

"There's blood right here, and and and, and, and it's living," The vampire boy says, eyes wide and inhuman, and he's absolutely gorgeous. "Your, your, yours is hot."

Tooley would paint him like this, all feral instinct overwriting the living corpse of an anonymous Irish immigrant who died dozens of years ago. A metaphor, maybe, for the way some of the children who come here lose all their European culture and get boorishly American, and-

The vampire bites down, and all thoughts of art and culture flee from Tooley's mind.

The liquor holds off the pain so long the venom hits before he even feels the way those sharp teeth have breached his skin. He goes limp, dropping in a heap to the floor. He thinks he hits his head on the loaf of bread before it knocks into the floor.

They feel about the same level of hardness.

The knife is right next to his head, lying there, shining in the yellowed lamplight, with its carved wooden handle.

All he has to do is move his hand a few inches to reach it.

Just a few inches.

He tries, desperately, to tell his fingers where to go.

The vampire sucks hard at the wound in his neck, pulling blood from his veins like a man drinking an egg cream after a long hot day's work, and Tooley groans. He can feel the press and pull without the pain, and it's the strangest thing he's ever felt. Stranger than those he's gone to bed with.

The venom makes his limbs feel like stones, weighed down to motionless. He struggles even to swallow saliva, to take a deep breath. His heart never races again with panic. He isn't able to feel it any longer.

Those sharp little fingernails dig hard into his shoulders, the weight of the vampire settled on him, straddling him. A little flirty thought - at least buy me dinner first - makes its way across his mind, barely coherent, slow as molasses.

The vampire starts up his soft rumble, the vibration filtering in through into Tooley's body. It seems like it makes him feel even more frozen, heavy as the ocean and weightless at once.

His eyes are on the ceiling, and he realizes how long it's been since anyone cleaned the corners where cobwebs have grown and grown. They need swept away.

Funny how he never noticed before. Too busy with his art.

There's a moment where Tooley is surprised to look down at himself, as if he's floating somewhere near the ceiling staring down at his own open eyes. When he needed not to blink, he couldn't stop himself, but now the body he is looking at just stares and stares and stares, unseeing, unblinking, unbreathing-

Oh.

As soon as the realization hits, Tooley's awareness of himself as a body he can observe is gone.

There is darkness, and then a point of terrible final light. He feels the grasping of bloodied hands.

And he's gone.

The vampire drinks until the blood stops pumping, until the heart beneath his kneading hand is still. Then a rough tongue laps at the wounds, finding the last few droplets there that still sing with life.

The vampire pulls back, skin flush with life, no longer white as snow. His freckles stand out, scattered like constellations of stars over his skin. The dead man beneath him has all the paleness he had before, they are switched, swapped death for life.

He wipes the blood from around his mouth and looks slowly upwards, breathing in deep gulps he doesn't need but which feel so, so good.

He moves to the stove, to turn it off, but he doesn't quite turn it off all the way. An odd smell fills his nose and the vampire's nostrils wrinkle, but he doesn't know what the scent is, and he simply pulls Tooley's coat on before he leaves, door unlocked.

A few minutes later, a man with his hands over a barrel fire looks up to see a redheaded teenager in a woolen coat far too large for him move under a streetlamp, pausing to look up at it as if surprised by how bright its light is.

He blinks, and the man squints.

The young man's mouth is open, as if scenting the air by letting it roll over his tongue. Before the man can quite understand what he is looking at, the boy's mouth closes and he turns to look at the man. As his eyes shift from being lit by the lamp to draped in shadow, though...

They glow.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," The man whispers, crossing himself hurriedly. "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle, b-be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil-"

The boy looks right at him, head tilted. The flames of the barrel flicker, hissing a little when raindrops start to fall. His lips pull back from his teeth and there are an animal's fangs there, plain as day.

The man feels pure horror at the sight of a demon walking free and unfettered in New York City. He grabs at the cross he wears around his neck and holds it out, his voice trembling. "May G-God... rebuke him, we humbly pray-"

"I, I, I hope that works for you," The boy says, and his voice is soft, and there's almost a lilt of the old country there that the man recognizes, not quite his own but not far off. "It never d-did for, um, for me. Don't worry. I'm... I'm full. You're, you're, you're in no danger from me. When, when, when, when... when did you come here? To this place?"

The man swallows around a lump in his throat, and yet he finds himself compelled to answer honestly. "Two years past, give or take. Came with m'wife and baby girl."

"From where?"

"... Kerry," He says, against his will. He can't seem to hold back the words. "And my wife grew up in County Cork."

The boy smiles, and his horrid teeth disappear when his lips press together. He looks for all the world like any other young man, a bit skinny perhaps and in need of a good meal or three, but no danger to anyone.

But the man has seen the demon that he is, and he finds himself grateful for the fire between them and the cross still in his hand, the shield of St. Michael and the cloak of Christ Himself.

"My, my, my, my parents were from County Cork," The demon boy says, lightly. His lilt is slightly stronger. "Wonder if we're cousins, your your wife and I. Maybe so. Stay home, um, after dark. Don't, don't, don't work when the sun is, um, is down."

The boy turns and walks away.

The man realizes with a start that in the midst of a chilly December night, the boy's feet are utterly bare. He steps over ice like he could walk on water.

There was blood smeared on the back of his coat.

The man flinches as he hears a sudden boom, close enough that he feels it in his chest as well as hearing the sound. A moment later a woman runs by shouting that a house has caught flame, to call for help.

The man looks back at the way the boy went.

He's gone.

-

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

[expectingtofly]

When Peaches Fly

established dean/cas, toddler jack, fluff :)

written for day 5 of @one-more-offbeat-anthem's follower celebration || prompt: farmer's market

“Hi Krista.” Cas transferred his cloth bags to his other hand—tomatoes, mason jars, bell peppers, and corn on the cob bumping against his leg—and reached for Jack’s hand. The five-year old poked at the peaches, plums, and apricots lined up at a precarious angle on Krista’s stand. “Jack, careful.”

Straightening up from behind the stand with a crate of fruit, Krista beamed at them. “Hey, Cas, hi, Jack! How’s it going?”

“I got a donut!” Jack told her. Remains of the powdered pastry on his face proved this fact true, and Cas licked his thumb, then wiped at Jack’s cheek. Jack squirmed away. “And we’re having burgers tonight!”

“Sounds like fun. Claire come with you today?”

“She’s coming later,” Jack said. “She has a…” He peered up at Cas, squinting a little. “Prior obligation.” He stumbled over the words a little, but Cas nodded at him. In truth, Claire and Kaia were on a hunt, but after too many concerned calls from teachers, they’d managed to explain to Jack why that information couldn’t be shared with everyone.

“She’ll be staying with us—Jack, no.” Cas tugged a little at Jack’s hand as Jack tried to grab a plum. “She’ll be staying with us for a few days.”

“Aww, I’m glad she could come visit.” Krista gestured to her stand. “Looking for anything in particular? Or just browsing?”

“Just browsing,” Cas said. “I believe Dean wanted fruit to make a pie for tonight.” Looking for Dean, he scanned the center town square where the weekly farmer’s market took place, small tents and wide tables quickly becoming obscured by the growing crowds. They always had plans to arrive early to avoid the worst of the crowds, but unfortunately, mornings did not always agree with him. And this morning Dean had been particularly persuasive to stay in bed longer.

“Well, I’m assuming that’s what he wants to make,” he said, turning back to Krista after failing to spot Dean in the crowds. “Today’s been a bit chaotic.”

First Claire texting late last night that she and Kaia were coming over—which prompted a scrambling to make sure the guest room was clean—then Jack spilling his orange juice at breakfast—dammit, he still had a stain on his shirt—now Dean disappearing and leaving him to carry ten thousand bags—Cas’ fault for buying two jars of honey plus a box of honeycomb, plus various vegetables and baked goods, but still.

“Well, I got some really ripe peaches today,” Krista told him.

Cas started to respond, but movement drew his eyes to Jack just in time to watch him poke at a peach and shift the entire infrastructure of perfectly balanced fruit. Though he leapt forward to stop the avalanche, he couldn’t get there in time to save ten or more peaches from launching themselves into the air and rolling away.

Krista started laughing and, face burning, Castiel crouched to collect the fallen peaches, bags banging against his knees. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll pay for these. Jack, say sorry.”

“Sorry,” Jack said, toeing at the dirt and looking chastened. “Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright.” Krista came around the front to help pick up the peaches. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.” Straightening with two in each hand, she asked Jack, “You wanna try a piece?”

“Yes!” Jack said with a clap of his hands.

“You don’t have to—” Cas started, but Krista was already pulling out a cutting board and knife from behind the stand and cutting into the peach.

“The best part of coming to a farmer’s market is the free samples,” she said. Juices seeped onto the board as she divided the peach into thick slices. “Here.” She offered a slice to Jack first, who crammed it eagerly in his mouth, then one to Cas.

Juggling the runaway peaches in his arms, he took the pale yellow slice and bit into it. Sweet with just enough tartness, soft skin and buttery smooth flesh.

“Mmm,” he said, catching juice dripping down the side of his hand. “Those are very good.”

“Told you so,” Krista smiled. She held out a box and Cas placed the peaches that had tried to make their escape inside. Sixteen in total. Much more than they needed for a pie. Well, at least they were delicious.

“Why you buying so many peaches, man?”

Hefting the box of peaches into the crook of his arm, Cas turned to see Dean walking over, a brown bag in one hand, an open container in the other displaying a half-eaten slice of pie. “There you are.”

“Yeah, sorry, got distracted talking to Liam.” He gestured in the direction of the meat vendor with a plastic fork, then back at the pie slice. “Dude, you have to try this, it’s so good.”

“You want a peach sample, Dean?” Krista asked.

“Oh, hell yeah.” He took the slice from her. “Best part of coming to these markets.” Krista gave Cas an amused I told you so look.

“Anyway,” Dean said around a mouthful. “I’m thinking about rigging up a sheet in the backyard with the projector. Ya know, to watch movies tonight? Thinking Sam and Eileen can come over too, make a whole get-together out of it.”

How quickly plans for a quiet Saturday night could turn into a boisterous Winchester and Co. event. Dean’s eyes were bright, though, and Jack’s eyes were wide in amazement at this idea.

“Sounds good to me,” Cas agreed, and Jack cheered. Dean held out a forkful of pie, and, leaning forward, Cas let Dean feed it to him. He nodded thoughtfully, appreciating the spices and crunch of sugar. “Your pies are better.”

“You’re lying,” Dean said, though he looked appropriately pleased. Jack clambered at his legs, so he gave him a forkful too, then tossed the empty carton in a nearby trashcan. Cas paid for the peaches—and a few plums and apricots too because he’d never been good at self-control in a farmer’s market.

Jack bounced eagerly, babbling about Claire and donuts and Finding Nemo and Toy Story, "... and the peaches went flying." He swung his arms wildly to demonstrate, and Dean scooped him up. When Jack tried to get away, he turned him upside down, and Jack’s protests turned into screaming laughter which caused more than a few glances their way. Cas smiled despite himself and fixed Jack’s shirt, which was sliding to his head.

“I got everything I need,” he told Dean, holding up his bags and boxes.

“Well, I got the sack of potatoes,” Dean said, shaking Jack a little.

“No!” Jack said, his face turning red. “Not potatoes. Jack!”

“What?” Dean turned him right-side up and stared at him like he was seeing him for the first time. Jack giggled. “Sorry, dude, my bad.” He set him on his feet and took some of the bags from Cas. “See ya, Krista.”

“Have a good rest of your day,” Krista told them. Cas waved to her as they walked off. Jack squeezed himself in between him and Dean, taking their free hands.

“I wanna make peach pie,” he told Dean.

“Sure, Cas has enough for three of them.”

“And ice cream,” Jack said. “And donuts and burgers and hot dogs.” He jumped and Dean and Cas took the cue, lifting him to swing him between them. Jack whooped, and Cas started laughing.

“What?” Dean asked, grinning as he swung Jack again.

“Nothing.” He smiled at them. “Just enjoying the day.”

[rosiehunterwolf]

rainy days

Prompts: Storm

Word Count: 10,561 (i KNOW i'm sorry)

Characters: Jay, Nya, and Lloyd

Timeline: Snapshots throughout the series

Trigger Warnings: Brief mentions of nightmares, brief PTSD, Grief/Mourning

Summary: There are many reasons why people may dislike storms. Maybe, like Kai, they find few things worse than being cold and wet. Or maybe, they dislike the eerie sounds of the whistling wind and booming thunder, like Cole. Or maybe, like Zane, they are concerned about the safety hazards. But for the other three members of the ninja team, storms offer a much more pleasant experience.

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Jay should have been sleeping.

He didn’t know what time it was, but it was late. The rest of his team had gone to sleep hours ago. He could tell by the sounds of their breath- Zane’s clear and even, Kai’s with a rougher edge that came from years of breathing in smoke at the forge, and Cole’s deep with a light snore to it.

The sounds brought him comfort, and Jay felt the tension in his shoulders from hunting down Serpentine all day ease up. It was funny, how, less than a year ago, he had slept in a trailer home in the middle of the desert, no one but his parents for miles around, and even then he had slept in his own room. But now, he was crammed in a small bedroom on the Destiny’s Bounty with three other teenage boys, and he couldn’t imagine life any other way.

Although, that life also included waking up early every morning and spending the better part of the day training and hunting Serpentine, meaning one ought to get a full night’s rest.

It wasn’t that Jay didn’t want to sleep. It had been a long day, and he was tired.

But he couldn’t. It was one of those nights where the wind whistled in the trees and the rain pattered against the windows. There was a dull ache in his left shoulder, the one that usually alluded to-

A flash of light illuminated the room, casting long shadows across the wall for an instant before it grew dark again.

Jay smiled. Lightning storm. Never failed.

Now he was even more awake though, the hair along his arm standing up. He sighed, pushing himself into a sitting position and dangling his feet over the edge of the bed. Groaning, he rolled his shoulders, and they popped. Making his way over to the ladder, he climbed down and tiptoed across the room, easing the door of their room shut behind him.

Thunder rumbled from outside, and as Jay reached a window, lightning lit up the dark ship again. He smiled, feeling excitement bubble in his chest. Storms had always given him an odd elation- although he guessed it wasn’t so weird now, knowing he was the Master of Lightning.

Not that he had succeeded in summoning any lightning without the Golden Nunchucks yet, but the point still stood. This was his element. This was where he was meant to be.

Peering out the window, he saw the rain looked to be fairly light, and decided to go outside. I’m already awake, why not?

As he walked down the hallway towards the doors leading out to the deck, he paused as voices filtered towards him. Curiously, he stepped forward, and froze at the sight of two figures.

Nya had a bath towel in her hands, wrapping it around Lloyd as she tried to dry him off. The kid was scowling, attempting to pull away from her and grumbling something about buzzkills.

“What are you guys doing up so late?”

“Jay!” Nya jumped, dropping the towel and giving Lloyd the opportunity to slip out of her grasp. “You scared me.”

“Sorry. I couldn’t sleep, ‘cause of the…” he waved his hand at the window, “‘cause of the storm.”

She smiled. “Me neither. And apparently,” she added with a grimace, “not this little guy either. Found him standing out in the rain looking like a drowned rat.”

“I did not look like a rat!” Lloyd insisted, stomping his foot.

“Oh, so the drowned part was right then?” Jay snickered. Lloyd shot him a hot glare, and Jay held up his hands. “Geez kid, I’m just joking.”

Lloyd huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just wanted to be out in the storm. I like watching them.”

“I get that,” Jay told him. “I love watching the storms too. Especially when there’s some killer lightning bolts. I’ve got some great lightning pictures I’ll have to show you sometime.”

Lloyd’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“He can show you tomorrow,” Nya insisted. “It’s two am, and it’s way past your bedtime.”

Jay winced. Geez, he really was going to be tired tomorrow morning, wasn’t he?

“But I didn’t even get to see the storm!” Lloyd whined. Turning to Jay, he added, “You’ll let me watch it with you, won’t you?”

Jay laughed nervously. Great, now the kid was trying to rope him into this to gain an advantage on Nya. No thanks.

…He did have a point, though. From the sounds of it, this was a big storm, and Jay wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep until it passed.

Nya must’ve guessed what he was thinking, because she sighed loudly. “I’ll let you stay up for half an hour more if you watch it from inside.”

“It’s not the same!” Jay and Lloyd burst out at the same time, then froze, glancing at each other. Jay broke into laughter at the look on the kid’s face, and, after a moment, Lloyd tentatively joined in too.

“C’mon, Nya, I’ll be with him. The Bounty is mostly sheltered, anyway. We’re not even flying! Let him out for a little while.”

Nya glared at him. “I don’t know how you talk me into these things.”

“Alright!” Jay whooped, high-fiving Lloyd.

“If he comes down with a cold, I am never forgiving you,” Nya muttered, reaching for her rain poncho. She handed Lloyd a spare one of theirs. “At least wear this.”

Lloyd wrinkled his nose at her, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Wear it, or don’t go at all.”

Lloyd sighed, slipping it on, and Jay had to bite back a laugh. The poncho was much too big on him, coming down to his ankles like some sort of strange dress. Lloyd didn’t look very happy about it though, so Jay refrained from the teasing.

As the three of them trekked out onto the deck, gentle rainfall pattered across their ponchos, and Jay immediately felt himself relax, the stiffness in his shoulders easing. Lloyd perked up too, skipping over to the railing to peer over the side, trying to spot lightning in the distance. Even Nya began to smile, tilting her face up towards the rain.

“See?” Jay teased, elbowing her. “You like it too!”

“I like the rain,” she told him. “It doesn’t mean I have the sense to stand out in the middle of a thunderstorm.”

“I told you, we’ll be fine! It’s perfectly safe here! Stop being such a grouch and come on!” Hooking her by the elbow, he pulled her over to where Lloyd was standing at the railing.

“See any cool bolts, Lloydster?” Jay asked, leaning his elbows on the railing next to him.

Lloyd narrowed his eyes. “Not yet.”

“Well, keep looking. It’s when you’re not watching carefully that you miss all the cool ones.”

Lloyd’s eyebrows furrowed as he squinted at the sky, almost as if he was commanding it to do something. Jay laughed. “You have to be patient, Lloyd.”

“Lloyd doesn’t know what that is,” Nya snorted.

Lloyd bristled at that. “Hey!” he snapped as Jay burst into laughter. He elbowed Nya, hard, and she flinched back with a whine.

“Ow! Kid, that hurt!”

“Hey, don’t think just because I’m smaller than you, I’m not strong!”

“Duly noted,” Nya muttered, rubbing her side.

Lightning crackled down not too far off, leaping across the sky in spindly strands, the flash blazing across the sky. Lloyd’s eyes widened, but he didn’t flinch, not even as thunder boomed loudly, practically shaking the Bounty.

“Never seen a big storm like this, bud?” he asked, grinning up in awe at the light blazing in the sky.

“We weren’t allowed to go out without permission at Darkley’s. And the teachers never let us go at night. Some of the older boys snuck out anyway, but they never let me come with them.” Lloyd sighed, resting his chin on his hands. “I missed all the best storms.”

“Well, you’re in luck, bud, because I come out here to watch storms all the time! And you can join me anytime!” Nya shot him a look, and he quickly amended, “Well, before a reasonable hour, at least. This is a special occasion.”

Lloyd had an odd look on his face, but he smiled tentatively. “Thanks, Jay.”

“You’re pretty brave, out here in the storm like this. When I was your age, I remember always running to Kai’s room every time there was a storm.” She smiled, but her eyes were sad as she gazed off into the distance.

Lloyd shrugged. “I dunno, some of the other young kids at Darkley’s were scared of storms and tried to hide it… but I don’t think that’s me. I’ve never been afraid of them. I can’t really explain it, I just feel a connection.”

Something odd tingled in Jay’s chest, and he sensed a spark coming from the boy, a warm glow, like a soft, green-

Jay blinked, and the sensation passed. He must’ve just been imagining things again. Maybe it was his supposed “elemental powers” reacting to the storm. Jay didn’t understand what the point of feeling them was if he still couldn’t use them without his Golden Weapon.

“It’s dumb,” Lloyd muttered, kicking the ground sullenly.

“Hey, it’s not! I feel some sort of pull to the storm too!” Jay assured him.

“But you’re the Elemental Master of Lightning! That makes sense for you.”

“What about Nya?”

Lloyd turned to look at her, gaze questioning. “You feel it too?”

Nya closed her eyes. “The rain- it calms me. It patters across my skin, wiping all my thoughts and worries away, leaving just me and the storm, the gentle rumbles of thunder filling my mind.”

Lloyd smiled shyly at her. “You do get it.”

“I never thought it was an elemental thing, anyway,” Jay told him. “I’ve always felt this way- long before I found out I was an elemental master. Granted, we didn’t get many thunderstorms in the middle of the desert, more dust storms than anything… but when we did, it always felt special. Every time it stormed, I would always run to sit on the steps of our trailer- my mom wouldn’t let me go any further- and watch the lightning. I had a notebook, where I would sketch it, and once I got a little older my mom got me a camera and I started taking pictures. By the time I was seven, I could name pretty much every type of lightning formation and storm there was.”

Nya smiled. “I remember being pretty intrigued as well. Like I said, when I was young I was scared, but after a little while I realized that the things I feared were the things I didn’t understand. I checked out like, pretty much every book from the library on storms. And I made those little raincatcher things to measure rainfall, and placed them all over the place whenever we travelled to the city. Kai got annoyed whenever I dragged him all the way down there again the next day to check them all. He never understood my “experiments.” I mean, technically it was more of an analytical study, but… tell that to him.”

Lloyd looked out at the storm again as another lightning bolt flashed. “I wish someone had taken me out to see the storms when I was little.”

Nya elbowed him lightly. “You’re still little, silly.”

Lloyd puffed out his chest. “Am not! I’m getting taller and taller every day, and-”

“Okay, okay,” Nya laughed. “Cool it, big shot.”

Shortstack, Jay mouthed above his head, but apparently Lloyd still caught it, he realized quickly, as he was delivered a kick to the shin.

“Ow,” Jay whined. “Will you stop doing that? It’s a good thing you’re not a ninja, sheesh, or you’d be pummeling all our enemies before we could even get them to speak.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, I’d be a great ninja!”

“Let’s not put that idea into his head,” Nya said hastily. “What I was trying to say was, your childhood isn’t over yet, Lloyd. We can take you out to see storms now.”

“Really?” He perked. “Like, all the time?”

“Well…” Nya hesitated. “A good night’s sleep is important. But it’s okay to stay up late once in a while.”

“Aww, I’m gonna get to watch so many cool storms from here! It’s a way better view than my tiny window back at Darkley’s. Or trapped in the Serpentine tombs, I couldn’t even see the sky then. Or when I was alone in the city streets-”

Nya and Jay exchanged a glance of horror. Jay swallowed. “Hey, um, Lloyd, maybe now isn’t the best time to discuss, uh… childhood trauma?”

Nya facepalmed, and Jay shot her a glare. Like you can do better. Sure, he knew he had all the tact of Kai high on Venomari venom, but what else was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry your childhood sucked so bad?’ Somehow, he didn’t think Lloyd would appreciate that.

Lloyd didn’t seem to be listening to them anyway, still babbling on even after Jay and Nya finished their intense glaring match. “D’you think Kai would like to watch the storm with us?”

Jay snorted. “Hard no, bud.”

Nya grinned. “He hates getting wet, Lloyd. You couldn’t lure him out here with the green ninja gi itself.” She paused. “Well, maybe you could with that. But not with anything else! He wouldn’t like it. And he would complain about it until you wanted to chop your ears off.”

“The others aren’t too big on storms,” Jay told him. “Kai’s a hydrophobe, Zane would just spend all his time harping about ‘safety’ and ‘taking proper shelter’ during a storm, and Cole complains that they’re too loud and throw off his focus, although- and you didn’t hear this from me- I think he’s just a big ‘fraidy cat.”

“In short, they think we’re weirdos. It’s their loss though, they’re missing all the cool views from out here.” She waved her hand at the sky as a barrage of lightning bolts showered down across the horizon, paling the sky as Lloyd gasped in amazement.

“Oh, that’s a sweet one!” Jay whooped, raising his phone and snapping a picture with it.

Nya eyed him. “Jay, if you keep that out in the rain, you’re going to end up wrecking it.”

“If I put it in my pocket I might miss all the cool pictures!”

Nya rolled her eyes. “Okay, but I’m not buying you a new one.”

“Can you show me all your lightning pictures when we go back inside, Jay?” Lloyd asked, dangling his arms over the edge of the railing.

“Can I? Oh man, I’ve got hundreds in there to show you-”

Nya cleared her throat, and Jay glanced down at the time on his phone. 3:12? Had they really been out here for over an hour already? He grinned sheepishly at Lloyd. “Maybe just a couple photos tonight. We can look at more tomorrow.”

“Alright, but you hafta promise to show me all the good-” Lloyd broke off in a big yawn, revealing his small, gleaming fangs, and Nya smiled softly at him.

“Think that’s our signal for bed, kid.”

“No! No, I’m not tired at all-” Lloyd slapped his hand over his mouth before he could yawn again.

“Hey, we let you stay up way past your bedtime, mister. You don’t get to complain now.”

“But I’m gonna miss the storm,” Lloyd whined, although he let Nya drag him back towards the doors by the arm.

“The storm’s beginning to pass now, anyway,” Jay assured, stretching a hand out as the raindrops began to lighten. “It’ll be back though, eventually.”

Lloyd grinned at him. “And we’ll be ready to watch it?”

“That we will, bud.” Jay reached forward, ruffling Lloyd’s hair. “That we will.”

---

After long days of stifling, dry heat, the evening rain came as a relief to everyone. Lloyd sat on the roof of the Brookstone residence, watching and feeling the rain pour down. He hoped Mr. Brookstone wouldn’t mind him sitting up here, he had been kind enough to let them stay with him until the repairs to the Destiny’s Bounty were complete, and Lloyd didn’t want to overstep his boundaries.

Lloyd felt like this cool summer storm was just what the city needed, not only because of the dryness, but because of the darkness that had scoured the streets here only nights before. The Overlord was gone- he had made sure of it- but he couldn’t shake the feeling of grime left in the city, and hoped the rain would be enough to cleanse it.

“We thought we’d find you up here.”

Lloyd glanced behind him to see Jay and Nya gingerly picking their way across the rooftop behind him, before plopping down into a sitting position beside him.

“See any cool lightning?” Jay asked.

“Not yet. All I’ve heard is a little thunder. It seems to be mostly rain.”

“Good,” Nya sighed, turning her face up to the sky as rivulets streamed down her face. “We need it.”

“How you doing, bud?”

It took Lloyd a moment to process that Jay was talking to him, and he turned to him, blinking. “What?”

Jay grinned. “Y’know, great and mighty ‘Master of Gold’ and all that- or have you already gotten over that? Too insignificant for you?”

“It’s ‘Golden Ninja,’ not ‘Master of Gold,’” Lloyd grumbled.

“Yeah, whatever. How you doin’? You just fought like, the biggest battle of your life a few days ago. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little tired.”

“Speaking of which,” Nya frowned, tapping lightly at his bandaged leg, “You’re still supposed to be resting that for another two weeks. You shouldn’t be climbing up here. Or letting the cast sit out in the rain.”

“Here.” Jay pulled off his jacket, tossing it over Lloyd’s cast to keep it dry. “That’ll help. That way, you can stay out here for a little longer.”

Lloyd shot him a weak smile. “Thanks, Jay.”

Jay didn’t return it, watching him carefully. “You sure you’re okay?”

Lloyd lowered his head. “I’m fine. It’s just a lot to take in.”

“Sure is,” Jay whistled, rubbing at the gold silk of Lloyd’s gi. “It seems like just yesterday you were a little bratty, messy haired kid we were dragging, kicking and screaming, onto our ship.”

Lloyd rested his chin in his hands. “Feels both like yesterday, and a million years ago. So much has changed since then. I feel like a completely different Lloyd, now.”

“One thing hasn’t though.”

He looked up at Nya. “What’s that?”

“You’re still our heart-of-gold little brother.” She slung an arm around his shoulder. “Nothing, not some prophecy, not the tea, not the Overlord, not even your special, shiny new powers are going to change that. Ever.”

“I know,” he whispered, leaning into her. He felt Jay wrap a hand around his other side, and, for a moment, just let himself be held.

“We’re proud of you,” Nya murmured after a moment. “I know it hasn’t been easy getting this far, but now, thanks to you, all of Ninjago is safe.”

He leaned back slightly, elbowing both of them. “Yeah, well I couldn’t have done any of it without you guys.”

“You big sap,” Jay laughed, ruffling his hair.

Lloyd felt a grin split his face, shoving Jay’s hand off. “Well, it’s true! If it weren’t for you guys, I’d probably be in Pythor’s stomach right now.”

Nya choked a laugh. “Thanks for that grim reminder.”

“What, you forgot about Pythor?” Jay teased.

Nya shrugged. “I didn’t forget, just… compared to the Overlord, Pythor seems much less intimidating, now.”

“That could partially be due to the fact that he’s probably half-digested inside the gut of a giant, dead snake.”

“Ewww!” Nya jabbed him, hard. “Lloyd, that’s disgusting. Ugh, now I’m not going to be able to get that image out of my head all night.”

“Hey, better him there than here,” Jay said, leaning back to lay on the roof, letting raindrops sprinkle his face. “After all the training and fighting we’ve done over the last few months, I just want a break from villains.”

Lloyd shot him a glare. “We’ve done? Last time I checked, it was me doing most of the training.”

Jay sat up again, sputtering. “Hey! The rest of us weren’t exactly sitting on our bums, were we? Back when you were just a little sprout, we were the ones busy saving Ninjago! And who taught you everything you know, hmmm? You weren’t an easy student, you know that, right?”

Lloyd laughed. “Okay, buddy.”

“Don’t you ‘okay, buddy’ me! If it weren’t for me, you’d still be shattering all our lightbulbs! Remember who taught you to control the lightning!”

Lloyd blinked at him, pretending to look thoughtful. “I thought that was Nya.”

“Nya?! I’m the Elemental Master of lightning!”

Nya laughed, knocking her leg gently against his. “Stop messing with him, dude. Let him have this one.”

Lloyd mockingly rolled his eyes. “Yeah, alright.”

Silence fell between them, but it was a comfortable one. Lloyd closed his eyes, cherishing the feeling of rain dripping through his hair and the warmth of his friends at his side.

It was funny how something so horrible had brought him to these people, this moment- something he would never give up for the world.

“Do you think the Overlord’s really gone?”

That remark earned him two very shocked glances.

“Where did that come from?” Nya spluttered.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Jay agreed. “You defeated him. We all saw it.”

Lloyd shook his head. “Yeah, I know, it’s just… if the Overlord’s dead… my father is cleansed of the venom… and the Serpentine are good now… where does that leave us?”

Jay and Nya exchanged a glance. “What do you mean?”

“Things are so different, now. I’m not even the green ninja anymore. I’m wearing-” he tugged at his golden gi, “this. Being a ninja is the one place I’ve felt like I really belong, but if the world is at peace now, where are a bunch of ninja and a Samurai supposed to fit into it? It’s crazy, how we’ve spent the last months- the rest of you guys, over a year- training for this one big moment. And now it’s over. What happens next? What happens to us?”

“There’s no way to tell the future, Lloyd,” Jay murmured. “We won’t know until it’s here. The world is going to change around us- people will change, circumstances will change, our lives will change. But do you know what won’t change? Us. We might look different in the future. Act different, live different, I don’t know. But this group- this family- is never going to change. This-” he gestured at the sky above them, “is never going to change. Do you remember how, before your green ninja training got so intense and demanding, we would always go out to watch storms together? And yet, even after all those months, your first instinct was to come back to it again. Those kinds of things don’t just go away.”

“Jay’s right,” Nya agreed. “This is always going to be our special thing. Just like we are your special people. Time can’t erode memories. It can’t erode love.”

Lloyd smiled, as lightning cracked across the sky in the distance. “You’re right. The future is open to us. No matter what happens next, nothing can change who we are.”

---

Nya flopped over on the armchair, sighing.

It had been a long night.

After a villain had been defeated, Nya always looked forward to coming home, back to the Bounty, and just sleeping for about fourteen hours straight.

That hadn’t happened this time.

Even just coming home to the Bounty hadn’t been as warm and welcoming as it usually was. The hallways had felt empty, desolate, the rooms lifeless, and their bedroom bare except for the few things her and Lloyd had left behind- the rest of the guys’ beds made unnaturally neat and spotless, as if no one had slept in them for months.

Which, they hadn’t.

As the guys had filed in, she had tried to focus on the fact that they were here now, not the emptiness they had left behind in those months after Zane had died. Even Lloyd, who had been the only one to stay with her, had felt distant and standoffish in those days, hardly speaking to her or anyone else.

Ushering everyone off to bed had been a whole other fiasco. All the guys that had left had taken a moment to adjust back into the Bounty again, but Zane had been the worst. He had spent a long time just walking around the ship, staring at things and saying nothing. Poor Lloyd had been shaken about losing his father- after a while, Cole had insisted on sitting with him instead so that she could go check on Kai- who had still been trembling from Chen’s staff. It had taken her hours to get him to drift off.

She knew that she better head to her bed soon- if she didn’t sleep herself, Cole would come to chew her out- but she wanted to make sure everyone was staying asleep before she did. It would be just like them to get out of bed as soon as she was asleep.

She must have drifted off at some point though, because when she blinked open her eyes again, the gentle patter of rain sounded against the side of the Bounty. Lightning illuminated the room, and she stretched, getting out of the chair and walking over to the window.

As she reached out to close the curtains, though, she noticed the deck lights of the Bounty were on. Frowning, she pulled open the doors and walked outside.

Jay and Lloyd were leaning on the railing, staring at the sky. Neither of them spoke, but their elbows bumped together comfortingly. Nya felt a flash of frustration that Lloyd had managed to sneak out of bed already.

“Hey, I can’t believe you guys came out here without me,” she teased, walking over to stand on the other side of Lloyd. “This is our thing.”

Lloyd shrugged. “Sorry. You were sleeping.”

Nya narrowed her eyes. “You were supposed to be, too.”

“I was-” he yelped at the glare Nya shot him. “I swear! I was! But the storm woke me up.”

She sighed, letting it drop. For now.

“What are you guys thinking about?”

Lloyd shifted on his feet. “My dad-”

“Griffin Turner,” Jay said at the same time.

Nya and Lloyd looked at him. “...What?”

Jay blushed slightly. “The Elemental Master of Speed? From the Tournament?”

Lloyd snorted, and Nya rolled her eyes. “We know who he is, Jay. Why are you thinking about him?”

“Speed is a dumb element. Y’know, I wouldn’t even really consider it an element. Like- he can run fast. So what? The elements are supposed to help you create stuff. Speed isn’t a tangible thing you can make.”

Lloyd laughed. “You’re still upset about that, Jay?”

“What? It doesn’t make any sense! Like, speed isn’t an element, it’s an ability. Like, you know how Cole’s the Elemental Master of Earth and has super strength, right? Makes sense. So, shouldn’t, say, an Elemental Master of Lightning, be super fast?”

“Oh, I see what this is about,” Nya grinned, leaning over to poke Jay in the arm as Lloyd dissolved into giggles. “Someone’s jealous.”

“I am not jealous! I just think that it makes a lot more sense that an elemental master who possesses the power of lightning, which is made of light, literally the fastest thing in the universe, should be the fast one, not some random dude who claims his element is ‘speed.’ Like, that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard! He’s not a true elemental master if you ask me.”

“Someone’s still upset about my father saying he wasn’t special,” Lloyd whispered loudly into Nya’s ear, and she slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to contain her laughter, as Jay kicked Lloyd’s ankle.

“It is interesting, though,” she admitted after they had all calmed down a little bit. “That there are others like you. I thought you five were the only ones in the world with powers like this… but elemental masters of Shadow? Metal? Nature? It’s crazy to think how many people there were that were just like you guys living in Ninjago with us, and we never even noticed.”

“Well, not just like us,” Jay muttered. “We are the four elements of creation… and Lloyd’s the Elemental Master of Energy, so we’re hardly comparable to their sub-par elements…”

Lloyd elbowed Jay in the ribs, and he yelped. “Yeah, it is kind of crazy… and it makes me wonder. Did every elemental master in existence decide to come to the tournament? What if there were more, ones that saw through Chen’s tricks and didn’t attend?”

Jay’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sure there aren’t more-”

Nya grinned, winking at Lloyd. “Oh yeah, wouldn’t that be awesome? What do you think they could be? Maybe Master of Space? Wood?”

“Maybe Silver! Or Plasma! Water?” He paused, frowning. “Actually, I’m surprised there wasn’t a Master of-”

“Let’s not get outrageous, here,” Jay insisted. “What do you need those for? Lightning is plasma, and frankly those others just sound useless-”

Nya snapped her fingers. “What about a Master of Crystal? Or, I know, a Master of Thunder!”

“Okaaaay, people, now we’re just laying it on me!” Jay snapped. “Thunder is stupid! Storms are my thing!”

“I dunno, Jay, I think it could be cool. What do you think, Lloyd?”

“Oh yeah, that would be awesome-”

He was interrupted by a loud bang of thunder, and Lloyd and Nya burst into laughter.

“Looks like the universe agrees with us, Jay!”

“Are you kidding? If anything, that was showing that it disagrees with you!”

Lloyd smiled, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Relax, big shot, we’re kidding. No one could ever replace you.”

“Hey, you don’t get to call me that! Only we can call you big shot.”

Lloyd looked at Nya, and she nodded. “He’s right. You’re the only big shot around here.”

Lloyd whined. “You guys keep saying that like it’s a good thing but I feel like it’s supposed to be offensive.”

Nya laughed, and Jay ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, big shot.”

Lloyd narrowed his eyes at him. “Stop that.”

“Make me.”

Nya pushed the two apart as they broke into a scuffle, rolling her eyes. “Guys, stoppit, you’re going to miss the lighting.”

They stopped at that, turning their gazes up to the sky as a bolt shot across the night, fizzling out at the end. Smiling, the three of them leaned forward on the railing, watching as the light show commenced.

---

Nya loved the rain.

The rain was carefree, playful- it took away a need for words, for thoughts, for worries. The rain didn’t bother with such frivolous things. It just was.

She hadn’t understood the tingle under her skin, however, every time rain was about to come, the slight ache in her bones leading up to every storm. These things had finally been made clear when she had found out that she was the next Elemental Master of Water- but everything else had become foggier.

Now she didn’t know who she was, what she was meant to be, what was supposed to become of Samurai X, if she would ever be able to truly fit in with the ninja group-

And most of all, she didn’t know how she was going to get her little brother back.

Right now, she hated the rain.

It was cold and heavy and grim- it only served as a reminder that she had failed. Her element was the one thing that could get Lloyd back, and she couldn’t even control it.

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.”

Nya jumped nearly a foot in the air at Jay’s voice, and he put a hand on her shoulder, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The smile quickly faded as he got a better look at her. “Geez, Nya, you’re trembling.”

“Am I?” She hadn’t even noticed.

“Here.” Slipping off his jacket, he wrapped it tightly around her, before pulling her into a hug. For a moment, Nya let herself relax against him, the steady beat of his heart soothing her.

“How’s Cole doing?” she asked after a moment. She had hoped her talk with him earlier had helped- although the Earth Ninja had still seemed to be upset about his new, ghostly form. Not that she blamed him.

Jay was quiet for a moment. “He’s hanging in there.”

Nya squeezed her eyes shut. Wasn’t one teammate to worry about more than enough? Why did destiny seem to throw everything on them all at once?

“Hey, you’re wearing your gi.”

“Huh?” Nya blinked her eyes open, glancing down at the maroon and blue garment she was wearing. “Oh. Yeah. Sensei said I should wear it now.”

Jay grinned. “I take it your training is going well, then?”

Nya shrugged, looking away.

“Hey.” Jay took her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going okay, I guess. I’m a lot better than I was. But I’m still nowhere near the level of you guys.”

“Are you kidding? We wouldn’t expect you to be! Nya, it’s only been a few weeks since you started training. Me and the guys have been at it for years, and were training for several months before we even got a decent handle on our powers. You’re doing great so far.”

“Yeah, but, it’s not enough. And we don’t have months. I need to be a good Master of Water now.”

Jay’s expression softened. “Nya… we’ll find a way to save him. With or without your powers.”

“I just…” she stopped, gulping back a sob. “I just wish I could be more useful.”

“Me too.”

Lightning spit the sky overhead, followed by a mighty rumble of thunder. They watched it, but there was no joy in it this time around.

It wasn’t the same without Lloyd.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Jay wrapped an arm around her, murmuring, “Nya, you’re freezing. Let’s get you inside.”

She went without any protest. After all, the storm had nothing to offer her, anymore.

---

The storm that night was gentle, which Lloyd was grateful for.

Nya and Jay had assured that they’d be perfectly fine not going out- in fact, they didn’t want to- a lie, they just didn’t want Lloyd to feel left out.

They thought he didn’t want to go out. They thought he was forcing himself to go just because he wanted them to go and he wanted to go with them. But that wasn’t the case. Lloyd really did want to go outside. Morro had stolen so much from him- his family, his mind, his control, his own body- he wasn’t about to allow him to take his love for the storms, too.

So what if storms were filled with the same howling winds that reminded Lloyd of him, the sensation of the breeze reminding him of the chill across his spine as the ghost slipped into his body?

Lloyd wanted to do this. He really did.

He was just… scared.

“You sure you wanna do this, green machine?” Nya’s voice, a hand on his shoulder.

Lloyd nodded stiffly. “If I don’t step out of these doors now, I never will.” Without giving himself any time to change his mind, he leaned forward and pulled open the doors.

Immediately, he was sprinkled with rain, and stepped further out, letting the droplets wash over him.

Then a breeze hit him, and he clenched his teeth, curling his fists into balls.

It’s okay. You’re in the rain. The rain will protect you from ghosts. Jay and Nya are here, too. They will protect you from ghosts.

As if to solidify his point, Nya slipped her hand into his, and he squeezed it back, forcing himself to take long, slow breaths- in and out, in and out, in and out.

“Bud?” Jay put a hand on his back. “You good? You don’t have to do this. We can go inside. Try another time.”

Lloyd shook his head. Breathing out slowly, he took a shaky step forward- then another, and another. Winds tickled past him as he walked, but he ignored them, every step his confidence building until he stopped in front of the railing of the Bounty.

He watched the dark sky, holding his breath, waiting.

Nothing came.

He bit his lip. He needed this. He needed to know that the spark was still there, that Morro hadn’t taken it away-

Suddenly, a blazing warmth glowed in his chest, and Lloyd smiled- just as a mighty burst of lightning shattered the night sky.

He still had it.

A warm weight pressed in on either side of him as Jay and Nya joined him at the railing, the lightning illuminating their faces so that they almost seemed to glow.

They were here now. They would keep him safe.

Things weren’t okay, not yet. Far from it. But he had taken a step today. And he would continue to take steps until things were okay again, and his family was going to be beside him every step of the way.

Morro was gone now. It was about time Lloyd stopped letting him win.

---

Lightning flashed.

Nya, in his arms, limp and weak, the light fading in her eyes. The green venom splashed across her dress.

Thunder boomed.

Nadakhan, standing over him, laughing as he waved the Djinn Blade at him- the one that had trapped all his friends, the one that had left him all alone. He was the last one left.

No, he reminded himself firmly, squeezing Nya’s hand tighter. I’m not alone. Nya’s not dead. She’s right here next to me. All the others are safely sleeping inside the Bounty. I stopped him. He’s gone now.

Nya glanced at him. “You okay?”

He sniffed, wiping at his nose with the hand that wasn’t firmly gripping Nya’s. “Honestly? Not really.”

Nya looked up at the sky. “Me neither.”

“I’d thought I’d lost you.”

She turned back, letting her fingers skirt his jawline. “I know. I’m sorry. But you didn’t. I’m here now. It’s all over.”

Jay breathed out, leaning his head on her shoulder. For a long time, they just stood there, staring out at the storm, saying nothing.

“Beautiful night for a stargaze, isn’t it?”

He turned to see Lloyd walking towards them, grinning as he gestured at the stormy skies above them.

Nya rolled her eyes at him, and Lloyd tossed his head in her direction, his sopping wet hair spattering her with water. Not that it made a difference in all the rain.

“Normally I’m the one who has insomnia-inducing nightmares and doesn’t sleep,” he teased, pushing his way between them to lean on the railing.

Jay caught Nya muttering something about “joking about childhood trauma” and “we should all go see a therapist,” and the alarmingly cheerful grin Lloyd shot her made Jay think she might have a point.

“Who told you we had nightmares?” Jay asked.

“Jay, most people don’t come outside in the pouring rain, in the middle of a thunderstorm no less, at three am in the morning just for the fun of it.”

Jay grinned. “Yeah, well we’re not ‘most people.’”

Lloyd shook his head, smiling. “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it. I just thought I would join you.”

“What about you,” Nya probed. “Why are you up this late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said simply, his lips popping on the p. When they stared at him, he blinked. “What? It’s because of the storm!”

Nya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Hey, If you don’t have to talk about it, I don’t either. Besides, that wasn’t a complete lie. Look.” Lloyd held out his arm for them both to see. It looked like a perfectly normal arm to Jay, but Lloyd was looking at them expectantly. “Feel it.”

Nya raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just do it,” he insisted.

Jay reached forward, pressing his fingers against Lloyd’s forearm-

And promptly jerked back as it vibrated beneath his touch.

“Woah.”

Seeing the look on his face, Nya quickly reached forward, her eyes widening as she pulled back. “What is that? Why are you buzzing?”

“I think it’s the storm,” Lloyd said. “My powers must be reacting to it. Sensing the lightning.”

“Does it hurt?” Jay asked.

He shook his head. “No, just tingles a little bit.”

“I didn’t even know you could do that,” Nya whispered, running her fingers along his arm again.

“I couldn’t. Not up until recently. This only just started happening.”

“Woah. Like a built-in storm sensor. Now you’re like us! I can feel a bit of a tingle when there’s a lightning storm on the way, and I know Nya can feel the rain coming. Ours aren’t quite as obvious as yours, though.” He gestured to Lloyd’s arm.

Lloyd examined his arm. “That’s awesome.”

Nya snorts. “Not so awesome when it wakes you up every time there’s a thunderstorm.”

Lloyd gave her a gentle shove. “Stop trying to blame it on that. I know you were already awake anyway.”

Nya snorted, looking away.

Lloyd frowned. “You guys sure you’re okay?”

Jay nudged him. “We’ll be fine, green bean. We always are.”

Jay watched him, wondering if he would probe further. But he simply nodded. “Okay. I trust you.”

Jay smiled. That was one of the things he liked best about Lloyd.

Sometimes, silence said more than words.

---

Rain pattered against the glass doors. Lloyd glanced up from where he was sitting on the too-large bed.

The royal family’s hospitality was greatly appreciated, but the room was so big. Lloyd wasn’t used to having so much space, or such fancy things- he wasn’t even used to having his own room. The six of them crowded into the little cabin on the Destiny’s Bounty was the only thing he had known for a long time.

He wanted to get out.

Walking over to the balcony doors, Lloyd pushed them open, quickly pulling them closed again behind him, so as not to let the rain in.

Walking over to the railing, he hopped up, sitting on it and letting his feet dangle over the edge. The bedroom might not have been his taste, but the view of the city from here was absolutely breathtaking. Lights were scattered throughout the dark landscape like reflections of the stars above, and the rain created a light, pooling mist that shrouded the city in an air of mystery and wonder.

He couldn’t have been sitting there for more than half an hour when Jay and Nya suddenly dropped in next to him from seemingly out of nowhere. Lloyd jumped, gripping the railing below him tightly as he narrowly avoided falling the very long drop to the city streets below.

“Geez, guys, don’t sneak up on me like that. How did you even get here?”

Nya winked at him. “It’s a ninja’s secret.”

Lloyd felt his nose wrinkle. That doesn’t make any sense. “I’m a ninja, too. Doesn’t that mean I should get to know the secret, too?”

Nya shook her head. “Sorry, green machine, that’s not how it works.”

Lloyd sputtered at her. “What do you mean that’s not how it works? How else would it work?”

“That part’s a secret.”

He threw up his hands. “You’re impossible.” “Nya Smith,” she grinned, shouldering him playfully. “Tormenting brothers since the day I was born.”

“I’ll say.”

“Hey, you weren’t even there for most of it! Kai had it way worse than you.”

“Trust me, you’ve more than made up for it.”

“Oh, come on, I know I’m actually your favorite sister.”

“You’re my only sister.”

“Ouch. Hit it where it hurts, why don’t ya?”

“You walked right into that one, and you know it.”

The three of them burst into laughter, and even as the sounds faded, they still sat with massive grins on their faces, swinging their legs back and forth gently, occasionally kicking at someone else if their feet accidentally knocked against each other. Jay got a little too aggressive in one of his attempts and nearly knocked Lloyd off the balcony for the second time that night. Lloyd shot him a glare, and Jay at least had the sense to look sheepish.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve done this,” Jay murmured after a while. “Just the three of us, standing out in the rain, watching the storm.”

Lloyd sighed. “Yeah, well, it’s been a long couple of years.”

“You can say that again,” Nya agreed.

They fell silent again, and Lloyd felt bad for pitching the air into a grim mood. He was struggling to think of something more lighthearted to say, when Jay suddenly spoke up.

“So… about the princess…”

Lloyd immediately changed his mind. The grim mood was fine.

“What about her,” he mumbled, even as he felt his face turn cherry red.

“Oh, he totally likes her,” Jay gushed, reaching a hand behind his back to give Nya a gentle shove in the shoulder. “I told you!”

Nya snorted. “Have you even talked to her yet?”

“A bit,” he insisted, indignantly. Then, realizing he had answered too defensively, he quickly amended, “But it’s not like that.”

“Suuure,” Jay laughed. “That’s what they all say at the beginning.”

“She’s the princess! Even if I did have feelings for her, it’s not like something could ever work between us.”

“Yeah,” Nya agreed. “The stuffy, rich type? Not a fan. She’s probably not good enough for you. You can do better.”

“What?” Lloyd sputtered. “No, that’s not what I meant- not like that! I mean, she’s not like that!”

Jay snickered at how flustered he was getting, and Lloyd elbowed him in the ribs.

“How do you know? You’ve known her for like, what, a day?”

“Ooh, she got you there, green machine.”

Jay’s remark earned him another jab in the ribs, and he yelped. “Would you stop doing that?”

Lloyd ignored him. “It’s not like you’ve known her any longer than I have. You have no more idea what she’s like than I do.”

Nya shrugged. “All I’m saying is that she’d have to be one hell of a girl to even come close to being worthy of you.”

“Nya!” Lloyd cried, ducking his head as both of his friends went for a hair ruffle. “Stop it, you guys! I’m not a little kid anymore!”

“You’re right, you’re not,” Nya sighed. “I could hardly believe my eyes when I got back from searching for Master Wu. You were a good two inches taller than the last time I saw you, at least, and your hair was longer, done differently-” “Don’t forget his deep, manly voice,” Jay chimed in. “I’m so upset I missed the voice cracking phase!”

“I’m not,” Lloyd muttered.

“Jay, look at this boy,” Nya gushed, grabbing Lloyd’s face between her hands. “Can you believe this is the nine-year-old we snatched up off the street all those years ago?” “Never in a million years,” Jay laughed. “Look how handsome he’s gotten.”

“Guys!” Lloyd cried, pulling away from them. “Stop being embarrassing!”

“Lloyd, you’re our baby brother,” Jay teased. “It’s our job to embarrass you.”

Both of his friends leaned against him, laughing- only to jerk back a moment later with a yelp.

“Lloyd!” Jay shrieked. “What was that?”

Lloyd blinked at him. “What was what?”

“Didn’t you feel that?” Nya stared at him with wide eyes. “It was like we were shocked or something!”

“Oh.” Lloyd lifted his hands up from where they were resting on the railing, holding them up for Jay and Nya to see- revealing the small zaps of green energy sparking from them, occasionally arcing between his fingers. “I guess that was me. Sorry.”

Jay blinked owlishly at his hands. “What the… you’re not doing that on purpose, are you?”

Lloyd shook his head. “It’s happened before, while you guys were gone. I think it has to do with the storm.”

“Your powers really are getting stronger,” Jay murmured, taking one of Lloyd’s hands- prepared for the small shock this time- and examining it.

“And your eyes,” Nya breathed.

They both looked at her. “What about them?” Lloyd asked.

“They’re flickering.”

“What?”

“Lemme see.” Lloyd turned his head to look at Jay, and the blue ninja sucked in his breath. “They are.”

Lloyd frowned. “That is new.”

“It’s cool,” Jay gushed. “I wish I could do that.”

Lloyd shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s really that great. Now I can accidentally shock all my friends, hooray.”

“But think of using it on enemies! You’d be like, a human taser!”

“Jay, you’re our human taser.”

He grinned. “Oh. Right.”

“It does look pretty cool,” Nya admitted. “Kind of like those glow-in-the-dark star things you would stick on your ceiling as a kid.”

“I had some of those!” Jay yelped. “They were awesome.”

“Of course you did.” Nya rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “I wanted some, but we never really had a budget for it, so I checked out some star atlases from the library instead.”

“When did your eyes turn green, by the way,” Jay asked. “I had gotten so used to them being red.”

Lloyd shrugged. “I dunno, sometime while you were gone, I guess. I wasn’t really keeping track of the days.”

“How convenient for you.” Jay poked a finger near his eye. “Are you sure these aren’t just colored contacts? Is someone trying to bluff about his powers?”

“Jay!” Lloyd suddenly tried to lurch towards him, but he felt something grab him from behind.

“Run, Jay! I can’t hold him back forever!” “No one’s holding me back!” he muttered at her, but Jay was already vanishing over the roof’s peak, nothing but a blur of blue on the dark night sky.

“This isn’t over, Jay! No one calls me a fraud and gets away with it!”

“Settle down, Killer,” Nya giggled. “You know when you’ve been bested.”

“But I’m the green ninja,” Lloyd pouted.

“Yes, and you’re also the baby.”

“Am not!”

“Are so! Now, get to bed. It’s late, and you don’t want to be too tired to guard the princess tomorrow.”

Lloyd narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m too old for bedtimes. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Maybe not, but you’re going to listen to me anyway.” Darting forward, she snuck in a quick hair ruffle before darting up onto the roof.

“That’s only because I care about the princess’s safety!” he called after her.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Before Lloyd could reply, the thunder boomed loudly, drowning him out, and by the time it passed, she was gone.

“Traitor storm,” Lloyd muttered, and the sky rumbled cheerily back at him.

---

The rain was heavy that night, so much so that Nya was soaked within seconds, her long, black strands of hair sopping wet, the dampness causing the ends to curl. Her dirty, worn, battle-stained gi was plastered to her skin, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

After all, how could such a small discomfort even hold a candle to the scalding pain in her chest?

How could any of this had happened? How could she just have gotten Lloyd back from the icy grips of death, only to lose everyone else to those same, prying hands?

She hadn’t wanted to believe it. When Lloyd had come back, soaking wet and shivering from the rain, the most defeated look on his face Nya had ever seen in her life-

She had been angry with him, at first. How could he tell her something like that? How could he send her whole world crashing down with a single sentence? How could he have watched as everything had gone so wrong? She had known that it wasn’t his fault, not at all. But she hadn’t known what she was feeling or how she had been supposed to handle it.

And as quickly as it had come, the anger had vanished, giving in to horrible, nauseating despair. They were gone. They were really gone.

She had hugged Lloyd tight, crying into him until Misako and Pixal had dragged them away, bringing them to a small, abandoned warehouse where they had spent the night. And the next night. And the next.

Not that time really felt to be passing anymore. It was so quiet, with only her, Lloyd, Pixal, Misako, and Dareth- and Pixal and Lloyd had hardly spoken a word, to her or anyone, since that night.

She knew they were grieving too- but maybe the thing they all needed most right now was someone to talk to.

She tilted her face up slightly, letting the raindrops slip down her face and mingle with her tears, washing them away.

“You shouldn’t be up here.”

Nya glanced over her shoulder, letting out her breath. “Lloyd.”

“We’re trying to stay hidden, remember? We can’t risk standing up here and being spotted by the Colossus or the Sons of Garmadon. You should come inside.”

“I will in a minute.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, nothing but the sound of rain splashing against the concrete and the distant rumble of thunder between them.

“Come here,” Nya waved at the empty space beside her. “Watch the storm with me.”

Lloyd hugged his arms over his chest. “Nya, we really shouldn’t be up here.”

“Just do it for a minute. Then we’ll go inside, I promise.”

Lloyd sighed, before reluctantly walking over to join her, resting his elbows on the railing of the rooftop terrace. The view of the storm wasn’t anything special from here- in fact, it was rather poor, with several tall buildings blotting out the view of the sky- but they weren’t really in a situation to be picky.

She liked this better, anyway- looking directly at the storm would be too painful.

“How can you do it?”

Lloyd’s voice startled her- based on the way the last couple days had been going, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her unless absolutely necessary.

“What?”

Lloyd grimaced, as if he was anxious to elaborate. “Why do you still want to be out here? Why do you still want to watch the storm?” He dropped his gaze, carefully avoiding her as his voice faded to a soft whisper. “Everything just reminds me of them.”

Nya turned her gaze back towards the city. “Exactly, it reminds me of him.” Softer, she added, “It’s all I have left.”

Lloyd was quiet for a long time after that, and when she finally turned her gaze back to him, his eyes were hard. Pushing back from the railing and blinking back tears, he snapped, “Jay’s gone. Forever. They all are.”

Before she could respond, he was darting back inside, and Nya put her head down, sighing.

Jay, I wish you were here. You would know how to make him feel better.

But he wasn’t. Lloyd was right, they were gone. All he had right now was Nya, and, standing there, drenched and shivering and pathetic, she wasn’t sure how much help she could really be to anyone.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Nya glanced up. She hoped, if he wouldn’t listen to anyone else, he would at least listen to the storm.

---

Three pairs of footsteps drummed against the deck of the Destiny’s Bounty. Jay leaned his head over, letting the wind blow his wet curls, as he whooped happily, his cry echoing in the night air.

“Aww, girl, it’s so good to have you back,” he sighed dreamily, brushing the side of the ship with his hand.

Lloyd grinned at him, rolling his eyes. “Alright, Jay, we’re as happy as you are to have the Bounty back, but don’t make this weird.”

“He’s just anxious for the next repair,” Nya laughed. “He’s been driving me crazy trying to fix random things around the Monastery. The training bots, the mechs, even the toaster. And nothing’s even broken! He’s just making it worse.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault there’s nothing for me to do! I’m not just going to sit around and do nothing.”

“Well, hopefully, she won’t need any fixing for a long, long time,” Lloyd said. “The Bounty’s been damaged enough to last a lifetime. After the Colossus, I thought she was gone for good.”

“I know,” Nya agreed. “I’m so impressed that the city was able to rebuild it exactly the same!”

“Well, I’m sure it’s not exactly the same,” Jay argued. “There’s gotta be some issue somewhere, right? Something I can fix?” Nya waved a hand at him, laughing. “Don’t worry, Jay. We’ll find something for you to do.”

“Well, it will have to wait until later,” Lloyd announced, pointing towards the clouds in the distance that were sparking with lightning. “We’ve almost arrived at the storm!”

As they got closer, Nya locked in the steering, and the three of them headed towards the front of the ship as the Bounty sailed deeper into the storm.

Quickly, the rain began falling harder, and thunder echoed in their ears.

“Now this is how you stormgaze right!” Jay cried, laughing as rain fell on his face and lightning illuminated his bright blue eyes, his powers sparking between his fingers.

Glancing back at Lloyd and Nya, he saw both were sporting large grins. Lloyd was also sparking, his green eyes glowing, and as Nya reached her arms out, raindrops swirled around her.

After a bit of the adrenaline had worn off, Lloyd leaned against the railing of the Bounty, throwing his head back to toss the strands of wet hair out of his face.

“The others are not going to be happy about us taking the Bounty for a joyride right through a storm when they’re trying to sleep,” he laughed.

“It’ll be the last time they sleep in the Bounty for a while,” Nya agreed. “I bet they’re wishing they decided to stay back at the much more peaceful Monastery right about now.”

Jay put a hand over his mouth, sniggering. “I bet we only have like five minutes before Kai comes storming out here, demanding that we turn the ship around this instant.”

Lloyd shot him a sharp grin. “No, he’d never want to come out here and get all wet.”

Nya giggled. “Yeah, he’ll just stare at us through the windows, giving us death glares.”

Lloyd choked so violently that he doubled over, grabbing onto Nya’s shoulder for support. The water ninja tried to help him, but she was laughing hard herself. Jay grinned at them, struggling to breathe in between laughs.

“Can… you… imagine… the look on his face?” he wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes.

The hair standing up on the back of his neck was the only warning Jay had before a lightning bolt whizzed down less than ten feet away from him.

Shrieks sounded from the others as they leapt back, just as the edge of the Bounty burst into flames. Nya quickly directed two jets of water at the fire as Lloyd and Jay scrambled out of her way. When the last spark was gone, she stopped, breathing heavy, staring at the burnt area in shock.

Suddenly, she whipped around, glaring at him. “What the heck, Jay? You were supposed to be warding off the lightning!”

“It’s not my fault!” he shrieked. “You’re the one who distracted me!”

While the two of them shot each other smoldering glares, Lloyd walked over to one of the storage crates being kept on the deck, and pushed it over to the burned area, trying to cover up the charred floor the lightning had left.

“If one of us gets struck by lightning,” Nya warned, “Zane will never let us outside again.”

Jay waved her off. “It’s fine. I’m probably like, immune to lightning or something, and I’m willing to bet Lloyd is too, since he’s shown connections to my powers and the storms in the past. So long as you don’t get struck, we’re probably fine.”

Nya rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s reassuring.”

“Yeah, Jay,” Lloyd agreed, scratching the back of his neck. “There’s a few too many ‘probablys’ in that statement for my liking.”

“Oh, come on,” he grinned. “I’ve already got Zane and Cole on my back about everything 24/7. You guys are supposed to be the fun ones!”

“Hey,” Nya said, “I’m not making you do anything. You’re a young man. You can do what you want. Just don’t blame me if you end up comatose in the medbay because your brain got fried by lightning.”

“That would be ironic,” Lloyd snorted, and Jay elbowed him.

“You’d at least visit me, right?”

Nya shrugged. “Maybe. If you were stupid enough to get struck by lightning, I don’t know if you’d deserve that.”

Lloyd laughed. “Better luck next time, buddy.”

“You shut up. You could jump off the side of the ship right now, and she’d spend a week crying over you.”

Nya bit back a smile. “Maybe. But don’t,” she added quickly, pointing a finger at Lloyd.

He stared at her incredulously. “How dumb do you think I am?”

“Mmm… depends on the day.”

Jay burst into laughter, and Lloyd shot him a glare. “Thanks, Nya. That was a rhetorical question, by the way.”

“If you didn’t want an answer, you shouldn’t have asked the question.”

Lloyd stuck his tongue out at her, and Nya stuck hers back. Jay laughed, elbowing her. “Real mature. I’d expect that kind of thing from Lloyd-”

“Hey!”

“But you?”

“Like you’re any better yourself, sparky. Don’t you still sleep with that weird zebra thing-”

“His name is Mister Cuddlywomp, and he’s a bear-”

“Guys!”

“What, Lloyd?” Jay snapped, turning towards him. “Can’t you see- woah.”

Lloyd was pointing towards the horizon. Dark clouds formed in swirling shapes, gently disturbed by the winds of the storm. Arcs of lightning flashed between them in an almost rhythmic fashion, casting a gentle light on the clouds that made them appear to glow. It was like something out of a fantasy.

“Holy crap,” Nya breathed. “It’s beautiful. How lucky is it that we get to see this?”

“It’s because we’re willing to come out so late,” Lloyd smiled, bumping against her shoulder lightly. “The others may be warm, dry, and cozy in their beds, but they’re missing out on this natural beauty.”

“Their loss,” Jay said. “It’s the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen. And we’ve been all around Ninjago- even in different realms- so that’s saying a lot.”

“That’s okay,” Lloyd murmured. “I like doing this, just the three of us.” He glanced at them. “It’s our thing, y’know?”

“Aww, Lloyd,” Nya smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Yeah. It’s our thing.”

“It’s special, in a way the others wouldn’t understand.” Jay beamed at him, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “I wouldn’t trade these moments for the world.”

[clairenatural]

Suptober 2020, Day 5: Daydream. ~800 words. Destiel.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon, but neither of them have class today so they slept in, only recently stumbling out of Dean’s apartment and down the block to the diner. Cas is wearing an AC/DC t-shirt that Dean’s pretty sure migrated from his own closet sometime between their Freshman year and last night, and it shows off his collarbones, and the midday sun is shining through the tufts of hair of his eternal bedhead, and Dean is young and in love.

Cas is still grumbling into his coffee, but he’s smiling as Dean teases him about his hangover—a low blow, given how much Dean also drank the night before, but Cas will let it slide in favor of stealing a slice of his boyfriend’s bacon. He’s going straight to the library, after all—that would explain the backpack he’d grabbed on their way out the door—and he needs protein. Dean tells him it’s lame to study for an exam a week in advance, but they both know Dean will be joining him later to cram for his physics midterm.

Yeah, physics. That sounds right, right? He’s in engineering, after all. He’s also wearing a University of Illinois baseball hoodie—he’s on a scholarship, probably. And Cas is, uh. History. Sure.

“Dean?” Castiel—a different Castiel from the young one in front of him—calls for his attention. “I think you’re making that couple uncomfortable.”

He blinks back to reality, tearing his gaze away from the young couple sitting by the windows of the diner…who had definitely noticed him watching them. Whoops. He turns back to Cas—his Cas, sitting across from him, and sighs. “Sorry,” he grumbles, and refocuses on picking at the remnants of his fries.

Castiel frowns. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy.” Dean forces a smile. “You were saying something about a serial killer?”

Castiel sighs and leans forward, the way he does when he’s decided not to accept Dean’s deflecting. “Dean.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watches the couple stand to leave. The shorter boy—the one with dark, messy hair and an AC/DC shirt—grabs his backpack as the taller, dirty blond kid pulls a few bills out of his wallet and throws them onto the table. They link hands as they move towards the door. Dean sighs.

“You ever think…I don’t know. If we’d met…different?”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “Different?”

“Yeah, you know. Like…in class, or at the bar, or…I don’t know. Like normal people.”

“We aren’t normal people.” Cas seems amused. He’s not getting it.

“Yeah, I guess not.” Dean frowns and reaches for his wallet, more frustrated than he wants to admit. “Forget it. Let’s go over the case stuff back at the motel.”

“Dean—” Castiel reaches out to catch Dean’s other wrist, across the table, and he stops moving. “Our story could have started a million different ways. It would still have the same ending.”

“Yeah? And what ending is that?” Dean’s smiling now. He already knows the answer.

Cas humors him anyway. “I fall in love with you, you fall in love with me…” he laces their fingers together and holds up their joined hands. Sunlight glints off his wedding ring. “We put poor Sam through Hell with it all,” he chuckles, and Dean can’t help but laugh too. It had been stupidly dramatic. He pulls Castiel’s hand towards himself, pressing a kiss against his husband’s fingers.

“I’m serious, Dean,” Cas continues, apparently not finished, and his tone is almost stern. “You can spend forever daydreaming about everything that could have been, but you’re here now. I’m here now. We’re real here, in this story.”

And, well. Now Dean just feels like an asshole. He squeezes Castiel’s hand and smiles again, but it’s turned sheepish. “I know. I’m sorry. I promise I’m happy to be here, with you, on this ghost hunt in the middle of Illinois, in this lifetime. Because I love you. Okay?”

Cas considers this for a moment before he nods once and seems to accept it (at least...for now). “Okay. Good. Because, as I was saying, Sam just emailed me about this string of murders in the 1980s,” he pulls his hand back and immediately reaches into his messenger bag—because Cas carries around an honest-to-God satchel now—and Dean tries to suppress a groan.

Castiel continues, pulling up maps and case files on his laptop, and Dean listens with half of his brain. The other half is thinking about the couple from earlier, curled up on a couch in the library or drinking coffee in a campus lounge—but they don’t hold his attention. They can’t. Not when it’s a Tuesday afternoon, his husband is talking animatedly about a 40-year-old ghost, and Dean isn’t young anymore but he’s just as in love, and, really…he doesn’t really think he’d change a damn thing.

[mymelodyheart]

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 2 ~It’s Her Cue~

Previously in Sparks Will Fly ...

A slap on his back tore his gaze away from Claire. "Easy now lad," Willie said in a low, amused voice. "Ye look like ye could use the same drink as her."

Jamie glanced back at the subject of their conversation. "Aye, but make mine a double," he whispered.

"On it," Willie replied, laughing as he walked off.

What the bloody hell?  He should be withdrawing himself away from this attraction because this mad instant bond between them was like an overloaded electrical fuse, capable of incinerating him alive. He'd already learnt his lesson from his last relationship. He'd been there and done that, but yet he didn't have the will to stop himself from finding out how their connection would play out.

Oh, Christ, this is bad. So, so bad, I'm in so much big trouble.  Taking a huge sigh, he found himself a stool nearest to the pool table and watched Claire steal the show from the best snooker player in Broch Mordha.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

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"Just polishing my balls for the lovely lass, here." 

The people around her howled with good-natured laughter.

Claire kept her head down as she sat on the edge of the stool, chalking her stick, waiting for Hugh to stop showing off and blathering with his mates, and to finally break. She felt eyes on her, and when she looked up, she met Jamie's gaze where he sat with his brother at the high table. 

Annalise leaned in from behind her and whispered, "Ginger can't stop looking at you."

Claire drew in substantial deep breaths. She'd watched Jamie play shinty earlier, and she thought he looked impressive then. Tall, strong, lithe, covered in mud and the epitome of a Highland warrior. Not that she had any idea what a Highland warrior would have looked like. After all, she only had the movie, Braveheart to go by. But who would have thought he'd show any interest in her. Perhaps, because she'd probably looked like she was about to climb him. Who could blame her, though? The moment he'd looked into her eyes, he stirred something inside her, which no man had ever done before him. And by some feat of willpower, she wondered how she'd succeeded not breaking into song right then and there. Up close earlier and now, sat only a few feet away, Jamie looked even better. Wavy auburn hair touched the collar of his plaid flannel shirt and the way his jeans hung low on hips, it shouldn't be even allowed. 

"He probably thinks I'm easy. You know how some rural folks think city people like us have loose morals."

Annalise gasped. "Why do you think he would think that?"

"I think I came on too strong and flirty," she confided in a low voice. "He's a man, so of course, he'd respond, and it probably works a treat for him too since I'm only here for a holiday. But my God, he's one fine specimen of a man, isn't he? I'm even getting butterflies, and the last time I had them ...goodness, I can't even remember." 

"Don't be daft ...you don't even know what he's thinking. Besides, you're single, and you're allowed to show interest if you fancy someone." The ice in Annalise's vodka and tonic clinked behind her. "This is the twenty-first century, and you're welcome to it. Flirt away and get butterflies. Let yourself go a little. I don't know if it applies here, but I'll say it anyway ...what goes on in the Highlands, stay in the Highlands." 

Aww, bless her.

Claire was grateful for her friend's presence in her life. If Annalise hadn't been there to constantly coax her out of her self-consciousness and to confide in to, she'd probably still be living a secluded life, and London would have eventually eaten her whole. Now here she was, openly flirting with a handsome stranger and she'd agreed to let him take her out.

Claire smiled. "How about you? What's happening with you and Willie?"

Annalise made an exaggerated sighing sound behind her, making her laugh. What a tart! 

"Hey, by the way, Jamie asked me out. So I guess, after this game and a round of drink, we're going to split. He wants to take me on a Christmas night tour. Will you be alright with Willie?" Claire asked. She had to make sure as this was their holiday together and she didn't want Annalise feeling abandoned.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. The boys seem like decent blokes, but as a precaution, I took photos of their driving licences and sent them to Geillis. She'll have them thoroughly checked out. Really handy to know someone whose boyfriend works with the police."

Claire's eyes widened, and she turned around to face her friend. "You didn't! I told Jamie I trust him." Geillis Duncan was their mutual friend they'd met in London at a party. After hitting it off, they'd forged a tight friendship, and the three of them became close until Geillis had to move back to her home city of Glasgow when she met the love of her life. Claire and Annalise were going to visit her before flying back to London.

"Of course, I did, silly. We're both on our own. Just because we're on our holidays and having fun doesn't mean we have to be lax when it comes to precaution. Don't worry, it'll be fine." Annalise reassuringly squeezed her arm. "Speaking of protection ...do you have condoms?"

What!?!  Sex was the furthest thing from her mind. But she didn't have time to reply as she saw at the corner of her eye, Hugh finally, leaned across the pool table and broke. As Claire stood up to take her turn, their audience cheered and whooped. 

Ignoring the hoots and whistles, she watched in concentration as the colourful balls rolled, not one of them dropping into a pocket. She began to walk around the pool table, taking in each position of the balls as she tapped her chin. Alrighty Beauchamp, let's have a look, shall we? This should be easy-peasy, lemon squeezy. We'll go for stripes. 

"Ye ken how to play, hen?" Hugh teased, extracting laughter from his friends. "If not, I promise to go easy with my shaft." Another round of loud laughter ensued.

Claire ignored the innuendo, and the sally going on and focused.

First, I'll down that nine-ball hanging over the pocket and use the rail to tap out the eleven, crammed against the twelve. That'll leave open the six, thirteen, and fifteen. Once I drop the fifteen, using a little side spin, that should bring me to the other end of the table. Then I'll sink the eleven and the fourteen into the same corner pocket, gently hitting the ten off the rail in the process, so I don't get stuck later having to bank shot it. Knock in the eight, then I'm clear to finish it off. Good God, Beauchamp, you're so good.

Satisfied with her strategy, Claire leaned over the green felt and positioned herself. Although Hugh's loud wisecrack didn't rattle her, the intensity of Jamie's stare was another matter. Taking a deep breath, she redirected her concentration on her game plan and took her first shot and then another, working clinically and accurately. Unfortunately, their encounter earlier kept creeping back into her consciousness and playing in loops in her head. It didn't help that his scent stuck on to her when he'd caught her after the fall. He smelled of forest and fresh laundry. None of that heavy musky expensive perfumes London yuppies liked to bathe in. It made her want to lean in, bury her face in the crook of his neck and take a deep breath.

Bent at the waist, Claire stretched over the edge of the table and focused on the fifteen-ball and tried not to wince at the memory of openly flirting with Jamie. In her defence, it wasn't every day she was rescued by a very manly bloke who stared at her like he didn't want to let her out of his sight. She wondered if she'd appeared too eager and was totally misunderstanding the look he was giving her. There had been a hint of wariness lurking behind those beautiful translucent blue eyes when she'd agreed to go out with him. Had she said something to cause him to throw up his guard?  

Having gone to a Catholic, all-girls, boarding school, her experience with the opposite sex was limited to the ones she read in romance novels. Orphaned at a young age, her guardian uncle Lamb didn't believe, dragging her across the globe with him was an ideal way to raise a girl, especially when he worked mostly with men in archaeological sites. So he'd decided the best place for her upbringing was with the nuns, right through college.

So when it finally came for her to start adulting and dating in a big, bad city like London, she'd been like a deer caught in the headlights. But she quickly found her feet with the help of her friend and flatmate, Annalise, a Parisienne by birth and a Londoner at heart. The French girl had been a mentor to her, initiating her to the trappings of singlehood and city life. Though the dating and getting-to-know-a-guy part was also an exciting discovery, she quickly realised every date she'd been to, after having gone through a handful of them, was a recycled version of the last. Same lines, same latest fashion, exaggerated backstories and trying too hard to impress instead of being themselves. So at the ripe age of twenty-five, she still had to experience what it was like to have a boyfriend. Annalise accused her of being too picky, but Claire always reasoned she just hadn't met the right one. She'd envisioned her first boyfriend to be someone endearingly awkward, not too loud and maybe a little shy. But Jamie was the least awkward man she'd ever met. He was easy on the eyes, and he lived inside his skin like a well-worn pair of jeans. He was far from a starter boyfriend she'd envision - definitely, not a boy anything.

"Go, Claire! You can do it!" Annalise shouted at the sidelines.

As she marked her shot on the eight-ball, she glanced up at Jamie and felt her focus wobble a bit. When one of the lads emitted a low whistle as she moved her hips to settle herself at a conducive angle, he didn't have a smidgen of amusement on his face. More than anything, he looked liked he was about to knock the front teeth off of the offender.

She didn't want a pub brawl to start in her honour, even if it sounded romantic in movies or books.

Straightening up from her position, she gave Jamie what she thought was a sexy smile. "Hey, Jamie," she called to him. "You got that single malt ready for me? This shouldn't take long." She tried not to blanch for sounding overconfident and cocky. It seemed cheeky for presuming she'd finished this game in a jiffy, but the pleasure of seeing his piercing blue eyes creased at the corners was definitely worth the minor discomfort her behaviour had caused her. Oh, Lordy! There were hushed oohs, followed by a round of testosterone-laced jests, making Jamie shake his head in amusement. At least, to her relief, he stopped looking like he's about to wallop anyone. Trouble averted in the knick of time!

As Jamie turned to get the attention of the bartender, she quickly lowered herself back over the table in the same position and sunk in the remaining balls. When she finished, her opponent, Hugh looked, well …not the least bit pleased about it. It probably didn't help she'd earlier acted cocksure about winning the game and might have dented his macho ego in front of his mates. 

Claire watched Hugh purposely marched towards her as their audience clapped, cheered and teased him for losing to a lassie.

"Ye got me at a disadvantage. I must admit I went easy on you since ye're new around here," he said loud enough for everyone near the pool table to hear. 

Claire gave him a charming smile, even though she felt like throttling him for not being man enough to congratulate her. "I know. Too bad, you assumed I couldn't play because I have a pair of boobs."

Hugh's eyes dropped down to her breast, and his cheek twitched, as he openly leered at her. "I must admit, ye have a lovely pair, and it might have distracted me from playing a good game, now that I come to think about it. Ye ken what ye need? Ye need a good ..."

"Stiff drink?" Jamie interrupted as he handed Claire a glass of single malt. "That's what ye were about to say, aye?"

Jamie's words were mildly pleasant, but she detected the underlying warning in his tone. Hugh didn't look like one to back-off, but when Jamie took a small step forward, he eyed the height and breadth before him and thought better of it. Splitting a forced smile between her and Jamie, Hugh raised both his hands as a sign of truce and slowly walked back to his mates.

With a sigh, she placed her cue stick on the pool table and faced Jamie. "This is fast becoming a habit of yours, isn't it?"

"What?" he asked, taking a step inside her personal space. It was another one of his moves to add to that growing habit list of his. Her old fashion side, the side influenced by her upbringing in the boarding school, wanted her to take a step back. But the side, that suspiciously sounded like Annalise, was shouting at her to hold her ground.

So she held her ground and arched an eyebrow at him. "You coming to my rescue. Again!"

When his mouth expanded into a smile, she couldn't help noticing his full, beautiful lips. With a cleanly shaven angular jaw, they made him looked like an angel who'd spent time in hell. Her breath caught in her throat, and she quickly looked back up, hoping he hadn't noticed her wandering eyes.

His amused expression told her he had. "Ye could say, rescuing ye is one past time that's beginning to grow on me." 

She laughed out loud. It was something she did whenever she was nervous or when shyness overtook, and the most annoying part of it, it was almost always accompanied by a snort. She quickly sobered up. Acting like a loon was definitely beginning to be her nervous signature move.

As if sensing her unease, Jamie quickly changed the subject. "By the way, that was some show ye put on. Ye'll be the topic of everyone's conversation for the next few days. And Hugh the butt of jokes."

"I didn't realise I was playing with a sore loser," she said, taking a sip of her whisky. When the heat slid down her throat, she tried not to flinch. Acting cool wasn't her forte, but she was determined to work on it. "If I'd known, I would have given up my slot."

"Dinnae fash. Hugh's all mouth and no trousers, but he's harmless. So where did ye learn to play like that?" His eyes scanned her face, and he cocked his head a little like he was committing each of her features to memory.

"My uncle taught me. We'd play for hours whenever we get time to spend together."

"Ye're close to yer uncle. That's nice. I hope I'd be that type of uncle one day."

She beamed. Jamie looked like the type of uncle who would have boundless of energy playing with children. "My uncle's for the most part, both a father and mother to me when I wasn't in the boarding school. My parents died when I was young."

His face turned serious. "Sorry to hear that. My parents have always been part of my life, so I can't begin to imagine what it was like for you growing up without them."

Claire gave him a grateful smile as she pulled a vibrating phone from her pocket. "Oh, bummer," she whispered, glancing down at the screen. "I have about fifteen missed text messages. I didn't feel it going off. I must have been caught up with all the excitement of the game." 

He ran a hand along his jaw. "Some lad missing ye back home?"

She hesitated, glancing up at him. "No." She shook her head, vigorously. "It's my friend, Geillis." She skimmed through the messages wondering why there were so many of them. Annalise had sent the photos of the brothers' driving licences to Geillis, and probably something had come up.

"Is everything alright?" he asked as she continued to read the messages.

"It's fine," she squeaked, looking for any incriminating data Geillis might have found. She found none. Instead, what she was reading was making her face heat up.

"Are ye sure? Ye have a troubling frown forming on yer face. Maybe I can help."

She sighed and rolled her head. "Annalise sent the photos of your driving licences to my friend Geillis. And a selfie she took with you and your brother earlier. You know ...to have you check out and see if you're legit. Geillis' boyfriend works with the police you see."

He arched an eyebrow. "And?"

Is he upset? "Don't look at me like that. I told you I trust you."

He laughed. "Like what? Ye're the one who's giving me an odd look. I told ye I was alright with it. So what did she say? Do I get her seal of approval?"

She winced. "Yeah, Geillis says it's all good."

He picked up his whisky from the nearby table. "Geillis sounds like a verra nice friend. I think I like her already. What else did she say?"

She felt the colour drain from her face. "I swear you wouldn't want to hear the rest of it. Geillis is raving mad."

"Try me."

"I think we should leave it ..."

"Come on, Sassenach. It cannae be that bad."

"I'd rather not."

"Go on, humour me." His blue eyes danced, and she marvelled for the umpteenth time at how handsome he was.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you." She shut her eyes for a few heartbeats and puffed out a breath. "Well, she said if you're the same bloke who competed against her boyfriend at caber toss last spring and won ..." Oh dear, God. "...I ...um ...I should let you ground my corn."

He practically choked on his whisky.

She grimaced and wondered if she should thump him on the back. "I'm sorry. Geillis has an odd sense of humour. I'm afraid it's just her way of saying that her boyfriend thinks you're ace ...well, that's if you're really the bloke who he thinks you are."

He recovered quickly and grinned. "How about ye? What do ye think of me?"

She ignored the question. "You haven't confirmed anything to me yet," she said, speaking into her whisky glass. "Did you really win the caber toss competition?"

He looked smugly amused, and the smile that spread across his face already answered her question.

"So you're a tree surgeon who plays shinty and tosses poles in your spare time ...whatever next."

He nodded at her phone when it lit up again. "What else is your friend saying?"

She put her drink down and glanced at the screen. "'She said, the men who participated in this year's caber toss, including you, posed with nothing on but their kilt for a charity calendar."

He smiled. "Aye, that's right."

"And she asked me to ask you if you're wearing anything underneath the kilt because I'm getting the calendar as a stocking filler."

His booming laughter made a few heads turn their way.

"See I told you, she's raving mad." She took another sip from her glass and realised it was empty. Ah, fiddlesticks! "I thought her boyfriend would have mellowed her down a bit, but I have a feeling, she's worse than ever."

He eyed her glass and grinned. "I definitely have to meet this friend of yours."

She felt a twinge of ache in her heart, which took her by surprise. "Annalise and I are stopping at her place in Glasgow before we fly back to London on Three Kings. So you won't be seeing her."

He leaned in closer. "I ken we've only just met. Ye think ye're going to miss me when you go back?" His eyes twinkled mischievously.

Even though she was a right bumbling mess around him, she had to admit she was having too much fun in his company. So much so, she didn't really want to think about leaving yet. Her mind was already racing and wondering if Annalise would agree to celebrate Hogmanay here instead of in Edinburgh. "Well, that depends ..."

"Depends on what?"

Her curiosity to explore the dynamic between them made it difficult to keep her guard up. It was useless trying to fight whatever this was when she was so drawn to Jamie. Surely he must be feeling this too. She swallowed hard and decided to be brave. "If I'll have a reason to miss you," she blurted out before she could change her mind. 

A tiny fraction of the playfulness displayed on his face was replaced by uncertainty ...and Claire's stomach coiled at the proof he wasn't prepared to act on the attraction between them. Whatever his reason was, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know as her guard began to scramble back into place. Oh, God, how could I be so dim? Maybe he's got a girlfriend or a wife ...

"Arbroath Smokies."

Stunned, she looked at him. "Wot?"

"Have ye eaten?"

"Uh, um ...not since midday."

"Weel, hard to fall in love with ..." He took a huge deep breath. "...Broch Mordha on an empty stomach."

"Huh?"

That playful smile was back on his face. "Have ye tried Arbroath Smokies?"

"No. I don't even know what that is."

"Ye have to try it. I know just the place." Jamie glanced over his shoulder. "Come on, let's have a quick drink with Willie and Annalise so we can get out of here." 

And then just like that, he wove his fingers through hers and tugged her towards the bar.

[smallblip]

LeviHan/JeanKasa go on a double date? :D

HEEEEE! My babies! I think I hijacked it and wrote levihan meet cute because I can’t get this out of my mind! I hope this was cute for you💖

Child’s play

“But mommm!” Mikasa whines, her mother snaps her a look before she can think of stamping her feet.

“Levi is going with you or you’re not going at all! It’s not safe when it’s late! You know that!”

Levi is past protesting. He tries to be as compliant as possible, after all, his brother and his wife have agreed to let him stay in their house rent free after he got a new job in the city. He’s a thirty year old man about to accompany his fifteen old niece on a date. The word he’s looking for here is ‘chaperone’, but he hasn’t been around kids enough to know.

Mikasa huffs one more time for emphasis before she heads out for school. “We’ll meet you at the diner at five after cram classes...” Mikasa says to Levi, utterly defeated. And Levi feels bad for her really.

When Levi heads to the diner he’s surprised to see how tall Jean actually is. What’s even more surprising, is someone else bounding behind them. Another thirty year old by the looks of it. Mikasa waves Levi over sheepishly.

“Uh... Levi... Uncle Levi, this is Jean and um... Ms Hanji... She’s our biology teacher...”

Hanji extends a hand towards him and he considers for a second before shaking it. What’s this? Another thirty year old accompanying a fifteen year old on a date?

“You mean chaperone?” Hanji says, eyes blinking, and as she processes Levi’s words, a hushed “wait... This is a date?” Levi gestures for her to sit with him at another booth.

“What did you think this was?”

Levi can see the panic swimming in her eyes. “I... I don’t know? It was after cram class and I was starving and they were talking about a diner and I-“ she freezes, “oh my god... I crashed my students’ date...”

“Welcome to the fucking club...” Levi mutters.

“Thank god you’re here... Or I might have just shared a booth with them...”

Levi raises a brow, “and you would’ve stuck a third straw in their milkshake too I suppose?”

At that, Hanji guffaws. Levi smiles. And they say he has no sense of humour. They order food because Hanji is literally minutes from dropping dead.

She peers over to Jean and Mikasa when the waiter leaves with their orders.

Even from where they’re seated, they can clearly see that Jean is nervous. Poor boy is chuckling dryly at everything and tripping over what little words he manages. But Mikasa is looking at him with all the patience in the world, and she’s blushing behind her milkshake.

“Aww... They’re cute...” Hanji coos, “Jean’s a good kid...” she says.

Levi knows, sort of. Mikasa has been telling him bits and pieces about her love life and truth be told, he doesn’t know why she does it? It’s not like he offered good advice, or any advice at all. And Mikasa sure was taken aback when he had said “he sounds like a jerk...” when she had told him about a certain boy named Eren she had a crush on. But he also listens when she tells him about this new boy- Jean. Someone she’s been friends with for a while but has never really got round to paying enough attention to see that he has a massive crush on her.

“I never would’ve thought... Mikasa used to like...” Hanji trailed off, taking a furtive glance at Levi. Maybe she’s said too much.

“Eren?”

“You know?” Hanji’s eyes widen with interest.

“You know? Do teachers gossip about their students?”

She laughs, “oh you have no idea... Things get boring around the staff office most times... The other alternative would be to watch Dita scroll through thousands upon thousands of pictures of his dog... Granted it’s a cute dog but still...”

“Tell me about it... My colleague just had a baby and guess what everyone in the office has been talking about for weeks...”

“Ooof...” Hanji says. She understands. Nanaba’s just had a baby and she still doesn’t know what possessed her to show pictures of Nanaba’s baby to everyone at school. It’s just a really cute, really neat baby.

“I won’t tell anyone about this date though...” Hanji crosses her heart.

“Because if you do you’d have to tell them you crashed it?” Levi says.

“Exactly.”

—

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Hanji asks between mouths of her burger. She has abandoned the knife and fork that was given to her.

Levi shrugs. He doesn’t really want to know what his niece is talking about with what could be her boyfriend if this date goes well. “They’re playing footsie...” Levi supplies, gesturing over to where Jean and Mikasa have their ankles pressed together under the table. Jean’s saying something and Mikasa laughs. Now they’re both blushing like idiots.

They see Mikasa politely ask to pause the conversation and she whips out her phone to type something. Levi feels his phone vibrate in his pocket-

“We know you’re staring...”

—

“I think my uncle has a thing for Ms Hanji...” Mikasa says. If there’s one benefit of this entire situation, it’s that it makes for good dinner conversation.

“What?” Jean says, he doesn’t want to sound dismissive but- “with the way he’s glowering at her?”

“Oh that’s just how his face is... He’s also staring at her...”

Jean looks over to where Hanji and Levi are seated. Levi is indeed staring, there’s this look on his face that can only be described as constipated.

When Jean turns his attention back to his table, there’s an extra bit of steak on his plate.

“You don’t want it?” He asks.

“I want you to have it.” Mikasa is smiling at him and he thinks she’s his dream girl. He plucks the Maraschino cherry from his milkshake and places it in Mikasa’s.

“But... That’s the best part!” She says, confused. Jean knows. Mikasa does have a fondness for cherries.

He smiles, sure his face has gone red by now, “I want you to have it.”

—

“So why are you chaperoning anyway?” Hanji asks. Jean lives two streets away from them so they’re walking towards home. Hanji tags along for the conversation. Somewhere between the diner and home Jean has plucked up the courage to hold Mikasa’s hand.

“There’s been sightings of a weirdo in a hoodie in these areas crouching in the bushes... My brother and his wife decided it wouldn’t be safe for Mikasa to be out at night...”

They’re walking on the street across Jean and Mikasa to give them some space, and Hanji lets loose a laugh that startles everyone in the vicinity. “I think that weirdo would be me...”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been going around collecting mushroom samples. There’s a great variety growing around the different neighbourhoods.”

“And you do that in the middle of the fucking night because?”

“Because... I can’t sleep?” She smiles, and Levi is determined that she’s absolutely crazy.

“But... Maybe it would be best not to tell Mikasa’s parents that... I mean... I wouldn’t mind... You know... Tonight was nice...”

“Hanji... We can hang out without chaperoning... Besides... I think Mikasa and Jean would prefer if we didn’t tag along.”

They pause a distance from the house and avert their gazes when Mikasa gives Jean a kiss on his cheek.

“I think that’s our cue to leave them alone... Wanna walk me?” Hanji says and they only turn back to look when the door shuts and Jean stands in the corner of the street and whoops. He does a little private jig and Levi is smiling, “I think it went well...”

Levi realises the walk isn’t “just a walk”, and is actually a fifteen minute bus ride away. Hanji offers to part ways at the bus stop but the night is still young, and there’s a breeze kicking up. There’s no harm in walking. They are at Hanji’s apartment block and she’s toeing the gravel, “so... This went well...”

“It did...” Levi says, “maybe we could do this again some time...” because he’s new to this city and it would be nice to have friends. Also he had received a text from Mikasa in the middle of dinner telling him to just go for it, and maybe his niece does give pretty good advice.

Hanji is grinning, there’s a dust of pink high on her cheeks and Levi thinks maybe it’s the light. “You wanna come in? We could be a couple of thirty year olds watching reruns of Friends...”

Levi feels his heart race, he thinks it’s a little ridiculous for a thirty year old to be standing under a street lamp panicking over what may be a crush, but here he is, doing just that.

“I hate Friends...” he says, very eloquently, “but I’d like that...”

[rplayford02]

Week 6-8: Final Drafting

We have a final draft!

Week 6 was the second round of script tutorials. Joe and Demelza made some good points which we've tried to take on board. There were formatting issues which we knew about, we needed a title page etc but there were also larger issues: the script was really confusing to follow, there was nowhere near enough action happening during the narration and also we needed to decide who's story it was that we were telling. (It wasn’t all negative, there was some positive feedback as well - e.g the narrator's sarcastic tone comes across well.)

Kate's feedback that she sent over last week reiterated many of the same problems. I made some notes and me and Robbie tried to implement all the improvements best as we could - although we're remaining stubborn on the whole names thing, sorry.

so, who's story is it?

I made some rudimentary character arc diagram things to just help myself figure out what 'journey' (for want of a better word) each character was going on from the beginning to the end of the film. Figured out that the protagonist seeks closure, begins in his own head, learns to get out of it and by the end 'hears' his ex's point of view. The ex/narrator seeks to set the record straight, begins cynical and resentful, and learns to see things from the protagonists point of view. So I guess there isn't a clear main character. No doubt ambiguity will be our downfall but we've got to continue that group 7 tradition right..?!? No, I'm pretty sure it's the protagonist's story. The audience should experience this with him, the film begins and end with him, it's his moment of realisation that we conclude on.

too much talking, too little action

A fair criticism. We want to have moments of no action but yeah in the first draft there were way too many of these moments. Robbie and I have gone back over it and added in subtle actions - e.g fiddling with a lighter - as well as filling in all the gapping holes to explain what's actually supposed to be happening on screen e.g the friend reads aloud from a book. We were also missing character and setting descriptions... whoops. There are still moments with little action but Robbie has ideas for camera movements to fill the stillness. And with interesting production design we shouldn't have a problem making it visually interesting.

[I looked as Wes Anderson scripts for inspo since he's known for using lots of narration and yeah, fair enough, the narration and description is well balanced.]

drugs in a student film...? so original guys

Ok so yes, but that's kind of the point of the friend character. We've tried to up the comedy and plan to take the performance to the extreme so hopefully it will land? It's only a few throwaway jokes but maybe we are trying to cram too much into a 8min film. Idk I'd rather be ambitious and make these mistakes. We condensed the drug stuff very slightly anyways.

where's the ex?

The criticism was that she doesn't appear until halfway through the film, but she does. She's in the film the whole way through in the form of the narrator, even if the audience only see this in retrospect. Sure, we spend a lot of time with the friend but we're setting up this expectation of what the film will be before attempting to subvert it. If you knew the ex was the narrator from the start I don't think it would work as well (not that anyone was suggesting this tbf.) Her scenes are brief because this is the protagonist's story at the end of the day. Visually, we spend the time with him in his reality whilst the ex interjects only with her voice. I think it works....????

It was also confusing to follow. We weren't sure how to fix this.

I feel like maybe we've stuck to our guns a little too much. But it's tricky once you get attached to an idea, it becomes difficult to give up on your original vision. I definitely appreciate the critiques though! They really helped us to sit back down and reevaluate what we were trying to do with the script in the first place. Hopefully it will come together in the final film even if the screenplay is still slightly confusing to read?? - I guess it just comes with practice right??

That being said there are parts of the script (dialogue & descriptions) that I’m actually almost dare I say maybe possibly even proud of….?! I still struggle with story, writing a coherent plot of still alien to me but idk I actually kind of enjoyed writing all the inbetween stuff. I mean I write as a hobby but sharing it with people… ewwww. It’s such a personal thing, when you get criticism on a script it feels like a critique of your imagination or creativity as much as a critique of a skill and I’m still getting used to it.