#OOH SANTA BOY

[sinfulpanda16]

MHA Boys Reactions to You Being Their Secret Santa

Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari x reader

Class 1-A decided to do a Secret Santa. How would the boys react when they find out their crush is their secret Santa? What did you get them??

Izuku Midoriya

Deku hands his gift to Kacchan.

"Give it stupid nerd" he snapped causing Midoriya to laugh awkwardly while rubbing the back of his neck. After opening the gift Midoriya goes back to sit on the couch.

"Alright now its Midoriya's turn!" Mina blurts out excitedly. Deku smiled excited to see who his secret Santa was. This whole time he thought Uraraka was his secret Santa but then you stand up and head towards him causing his cheeks to heat up. Oh shit you're getting closer! ////

You're standing right in front of him with a big Christmas bag, "Here you go Midoriya" you say smiling at him. Deku doesn't budge he's shocked till speechless, which makes the class giggle a bit. "Midoriya?" you call for him a bit worried and Deku comes back to reality. "Oh! Right I'm sorry!" he takes the gift from you.

After calming down a bit he begins to pull out the first thing which was a freaking bag of broccoli. The class laughs and you begin to explain yourself "You remind me of broccoli and every time I see you, I remember to eat my veggies" you giggle. Kaminari chimes in "Yeah same! He reminds to eat my greens lol". Midoriya gives a cute smile and begins to show the class the rest of his presents. You got him a new All Might Poster, new grip strengtheners, an All Might Notepad, some candy and some All Might socks lol.

Midoriya loved it all, he thanks you with a blushy face and can't wait to use all the presents his crush got him.

Katsuki Bakugou

He doesn't know how the hell yall convinced him to join in this stupid game. (He joined because you joined) Anyways there he was leaning against the wall. Kirishima just finished his haul of Christmas gifts Bakugou has given him so now it was time for his secret Santa to reveal himself.

'Please let it be Y/N or so help me-' his thought gets interrupted when you start walking towards him. Yes! When he saw that he didn't fish out your name during the raffle he was hoping that you would at least be his secret Santa. He was seriously about to hate being a part of this if you weren't his secret Santa.

You go up to him and he's looking into your eyes. You hand him his gift "Here Bakugou, this is for you" you say a bit quietly. He keeps staring into your eyes a small blush starting to form on his face. "Tch thanks" he says turning away from you.

"Ooh what did Y/N get Bakugou?!" Mina asks excitedly.

Denki smiles "Yeah I want to know! I wouldn't know what to get Kacchan."

"I would know" Todoroki says blankly causing Bakugou to yell out "SHUT UP HALF AND HALF! NO YOU WOULDN'T! "

You were still standing next to Bakugou, so you jumped a bit at his loud yell which caused Bakugou to sigh and calm himself down. He began showing everyone what you got him. "A new black tank top, sweatpants, a bunch of hot noodles, spicy candy and- THE HELL IS THIS?!" he pulls out a stuffed Pomeranian dog.

The class bursts out laughing "Haha Bakugo that looks like you!" Kirishima laughs. Bakugou turns to you giving you a 'WTF' look. "It's a Pomeranian puppy. I saw it and...it reminded me of you." you shyly explain. Had this been anybody else he would've exploded the damn thing, but he didn't, because it was you. He rolls his eyes "Thanks or whatever." You smile at him and head back to his seat. Bakugou was glad he was part of this stupid Secret Santa exchange.

Shoto Todoroki

He was sitting on the ground in his cute Santa Claus outfit next to you. It was time for his secret Santa to give him his gift. Everyone was actually curious about who could've gotten Todoroki. "Oh that's me. Here you go Todoroki." You smile at him handing him his present.

"Oh." he blushes a bit. "Thank you, Y/N." he says, taking the present.

Everyone watches excitedly as he unties the ribbon on the box and takes off the lid. Todoroki smiles softly "It's a chopstick bowl set along with a packet of soba" he says showing everyone.

"Aww that's really cute" Uraraka gushes along with the other girls.

Midoriya giggles "Yeah. Y/N did a good job with Todoroki's present" he states making everyone agree with him.

You blush at their words and Todoroki blushes at the fact that you actually know him pretty well. He didn't think you'd actually pay attention to him. Everyone goes back to focusing on the secret Santa. He turns to look at you "Thank you again Y/N. I really appreciate it" he tells you smiling softly.

You look back into his eyes "Of course. Merry Christmas Todoroki."

He goes to hug you and you hug him back "Merry Christmas Y/N"

Eijiro Kirishima

This was a blast he's been enjoying watching his friends give their presents, get their presents, laugh (he's been enjoying watching you have fun) but alas it was finally his turn. "Alright now its time for Kirishimas secrets Santa." Kaminari announces. Kirishima was so excited "Yeah! Lets see who my secret Santa is!" he says extatically.

You stand up and start heading towards Kirishima holding a bright red present bag for him, and why did the whole class start aweing? Kirishima's face was becoming bright red like his present. Truth is Kirishima has been very vocal to his friends about having a crush on you. It started with telling Bakugou, but he didn't give good advice on love, so he told the rest of his friends. You were kept in the dark though cuz you were confused as hell lol.

You sit next to him and hand him his gift. He takes the gift "Thank you" he says, and you return him a warm smile. How much cuter can you get he asks himself.

He opens the bag "Oh Wow! It's a red hoodie!" he says with joy.

"There's more" you say excitedly.

Kirishima start looking for more. "Oh, this is a Crimson Riot poster! And... wait is this the hair dye I use?" he asks in shock.

You laugh "Yeah. I would see this packaging in the trash."

Kirishima turns to look at you "Y/N this is awesome I love it. Thank you!" and you smile at him. "Aww your welcome. Merry Christmas" you say going in for a hug to which he happily returns. "Merry Christmas" he says back.

Little did yall know the whole class was watching you guys all like "Yes! My ship is sailing 🥰"

Denki Kaminari

Kaminari says in a cocky tone "Alright it's my turn. Where my gift?"

Jirou in an annoyed tone asks, "Who even got this fool?" to which you reply "I did" laughing.

Kaminari gets excited "Yes! Thank you I got a pretty secret Santa!". You roll your eyes playfully and go to give him his gift. "Here this is for you." Kaminari smiles widely "I'm special today!" and begins to open his gift.

Honestly the whole class was shocked. They didn't expect anyone to give him such nice things. A cologne, a chain, a ring, a nice shirt, and a jacket. Sero asks "Y/N is there a reason you bought him all this fancy stuff?" which is the same question the rest of the class had in mind.

"It's because Y/N respects me that's why." he says feeling proud. You shake your head "No, it's so you can actually get girls" you say making the class laugh.

Mina shakes her head "OMG Y/N you're such a good friend." she teases.

While the class laughs Kaminari turns to you and acts hurt "Ouch Y/N. You wound me." and you just give him a smile. "I was just kidding. I just wanted to gift you something nice cuz you've earned it." you say making him blush. For a moment he genuinely thought his crush thought so low of him, but he's glad to hear that's not true.

You two wish each other Merry Christmas and Kaminari's feelings for sure have definitely grown stronger for you.

[zapreportsblog]

❝my child❞

✭ pairing : poly lost boys x reader

✭ fandom : the lost boys

✭ summary : (y/n) is a vampire and a member of the Lost Boys, a powerful gang of biker vampires who control Santa Carla's boardwalk. Despite her immortal nature, Y/N yearns for the impossible dream of having children, much like human women. Her fixation shifts to a lone traveler, whom she believes is destined to be the child of her and the Lost Boys, setting the stage for a unique and unconventional tale of desire and destiny in the vampire underworld.

✭ authors note : ooh aged down star here and I think ima start writing for something other then twilight because no offense twilights taking up my page 😂 I’m not just a twilight franchise writer, I write for various movies, tv shows and series

✭ the lost boys masterlist

The Santa Carla boardwalk was bustling with life as (Y/N) walked hand in hand with her four vampire companions: Marko, Paul, Dwayne, and David. They were known as the Lost Boys, the notorious group of nocturnal creatures that ruled the night in this coastal town. For (Y/N), they were more than just companions; they were her mates, her official but unofficial husbands in the eyes of their vampiric society.

As they strolled among the neon lights, a sense of melancholy crept over her. Children ran by, laughter and joy emanating from their every move. Parents watched over them with love and pride, and the longing in (Y/N)'s heart deepened. She knew that as a vampire, she could never experience the joy of parenthood. Vampires couldn't reproduce, and that realization weighed heavily on her.

(Y/N) glanced at her boys beside her, their immortal beauty accentuated by the boardwalk lights. Their existence was eternal, but it was also devoid of the simple pleasures of human life. While they didn't age, they were forever frozen in time, unable to grow, change, or have children of their own. A pang of sadness washed over her as she wished for something she could never have.

Later that night, as they returned to their hidden lair deep in the cliffs overlooking the Pacific, (Y/N) nestled herself in the makeshift nest of blankets and pillows. She was wrapped up tightly, seeking comfort from the emotional storm brewing within her. Unbeknownst to her, the Lost Boys could feel her emotions, her sadness radiating like a palpable energy in the room.

Dwayne, always the most observant of the group, spoke up. "Did anyone else notice (Y/N) unusual behavior today on the boardwalk?" His voice was soft but laced with concern.

David, the leader of the Lost Boys, nodded. "Yes, I did. She seemed...distressed."

Marko and Paul exchanged glances, equally troubled by the apparent sadness in their mate's heart. "You think she's craving something?" Paul asked, voicing the thought that lingered in all their minds.

Dwayne sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "It's possible. She was watching the children and their families."

David's eyes darkened as he considered the implications. They all knew that satisfying this desire wouldn't be easy. They couldn't simply snatch a random child, not only because it would be cruel but also because it would anger (Y/N) beyond measure.

"We need to find a way to make her happy," David said finally. "We owe it to her. She's given up so much to be with us."

Marko nodded in agreement. "Let's figure this out, together. (Y/N) deserves our best efforts."

Paul chimed in, determination in his voice. "We can't give her a child, but maybe we can find something else that will fill that void in her heart."

As the boys huddled together, their bond as strong as ever, they were united by a single goal: to bring happiness to the woman they cherished above all else, even if it meant navigating the complex emotions of parenthood they could never truly understand.

The night was still young, and only a few hours remained until the dreaded sunrise. The boys knew they had to act quickly to address the longing that had gripped their mate, (Y/N). With determined hearts, they mounted their motorcycles and rode down to Max's store on the boardwalk. The neon lights of Santa Carla painted the night in an eerie glow as they approached the familiar establishment.

Maria, Max's human employee, greeted them with a warm smile as they entered the store. "Hey, boys. Max is in his office."

The boys nodded in thanks and headed toward Max's office. They didn't waste any time with pleasantries when they walked in, their faces etched with worry and anxiety.

Max, reclined in his office chair, raised an eyebrow at their seemingly disrespectful entrance. "What's got you all so riled up?" he asked, his tone tinged with annoyance.

David stepped forward, his voice steady but full of concern. "Max, we need your advice and assistance. (Y/N) is going through something, and we don't know how to help her."

Max leaned back, his curiosity piqued. "Go on."

David took a deep breath and explained the situation. "Our mate wants a baby, Max. She's been feeling this emptiness, a desire that we can't fulfill. We can't just take someone's child; that's not who we are."

Max nodded thoughtfully, steepling his fingers. "It's not uncommon for a female vampire to experience these feelings from time to time," he mused. "Left unchecked, it can become problematic."

Marko, his anxiety growing, couldn't help but speak up. "So what do you suggest we do?"

Max regarded them with a knowing look. "Santa Carla is teeming with runaways and lost souls, boys. Finding an unsuspecting victim on the streets should not be a challenge. It would be a temporary solution to ease her pain."

The boys shifted uncomfortably in their seats, the weight of Max's suggestion settling on their consciences. It was a dark and morally questionable path, one they had always tried to avoid.

But as the seconds ticked away, they realized they were running out of time to make a decision. The coming dawn reminded them of their own immortality and the fleeting nature of the night.

"Thank you, Max," David said, gratitude in his eyes. "We'll consider it."

Max nodded and leaned back in his chair. "Remember, boys, sometimes the choices we make for the ones we love aren't easy."

With that, the boys left Max's office, the weight of their decision heavy on their shoulders. They knew they had to find a way to bring happiness to (Y/N), but at what cost? The night held its secrets, and they had a long, dark road ahead of them.

The next night, the boys and their mate, (Y/N), found themselves once again on the bustling Santa Carla boardwalk. (Y/N) leaned against Dwayne, her head resting on his shoulder, as they walked in sync with the rhythmic ebb and flow of the crowd.

David, always watchful, scanned the surroundings, his eyes darting from person to person. (Y/N) noticed his vigilant demeanor and furrowed her brows. "Is everything okay, David?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.

Paul, never one to hide the truth from (Y/N), stepped forward, his voice gentle but firm. "We need to tell you something, (Y/N). Max suggested a solution to your...desires. David is likely keeping an eye out for a child."

(Y/N)'s expression shifted from curiosity to a deep frown. She gave Paul a sad smile and shook her head. "You don't have to do that, boys. I appreciate your efforts, but we don't need to..."

Her words were cut short as she suddenly stopped walking. A bewildered look crossed the faces of the boys as they watched her go silent. Concern etched lines into their brows as they approached her.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" Dwayne asked softly.

Her gaze was distant, her senses focused on something they couldn't perceive. "Do you hear that?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the din of the boardwalk.

The boys exchanged puzzled glances. "Hear what?" Marko questioned.

"My child," (Y/N) said, her voice quivering with emotion. "It's calling out to me."

With newfound determination, (Y/N) moved quickly through the crowd, following an invisible pull that only she could sense. The boys exchanged glances again, realization dawning upon them.

"Guess the hunt's on," David remarked, and they followed her, careful not to lose sight of her in the bustling crowd.

As they ventured deeper into the night, they lost sight of (Y/N) for a moment. Anxiety gripped them until, finally, she reappeared with a bright smile that illuminated her face. She held the hand of a young girl, no more than seven or eight years old, with big, innocent eyes.

"Boys, meet Star," (Y/N) said, her eyes shining with happiness. "She wants to hang with us tonight. Is that alright?"

The boys gazed at the child, their hearts heavy with the weight of their decision. But when they saw the genuine joy in (Y/N)'s eyes, they couldn't deny her this moment of happiness.

"Yeah, baby, she can hang," Paul said with a reassuring smile, and then the rest of the boys welcomed Star into their nocturnal world, hoping that this newfound connection would bring solace to (Y/N) and fill the void that had haunted her for so long.

[ja3yun]

Rudolph | S.JY

bf!jake x gf!reader

warnings: suggestive, fluff, lap dance (it's unserious), they're cringy and in love, not proofread anything else lmk!

wc: 2.2k+

synopsis: jake gets a secret santa present from work and he wants to show you what he got, giving you a present of your own.

a/n: hi! this is just a short, fluffy, unserious one shot for xmas. i was intending to make this smutty but i left it where it is because i got lazy. anyway, happy holidays from mine to yours <3 i hope santa is good to you.

“FREEDOM!” Jake bursts through the door, his voice booming across your shared flat, “Out of office is on, alarms are off, Christmas is upon us, and I am free for the next 2 glorious weeks.” 

It’s finally the 23rd of December which means Jake has finished up work for the holiday period. After a year of working countless overtime, he was never more thankful for this time off.

You look up from the couch and smile widely, matching his excitement, “Did you get away early?” It’s not like him to come home this time of the day, which is sad because it’s 6pm.

“Mhm, the boss had a thing with his in-laws so he wrapped everything up quickly and told us to get lost” Jake imitates wrapping a present and tying a bow before pretending to kick it away as he speaks, your boyfriend was always so animated when he was excited.

He places the shoes he slipped off in the caddy and replaces them with his bell ringing elf slippers. To say Jake loved Christmas would be the understatement of the century. The 2 weeks off were lush, that’s true, but the whole season was so precious to him. Everyone was happier than usual, he could eat and drink as much as he wanted and just use the excuse ‘it’s Christmas’, and he got to spend time with you.

Unfortunately, you don’t have the luxury of a paid holiday but you always get at least 4 days in a row work free which is a rarity. Those 4 days you never ever take for granted.

Spying a red and gold gift bag at his feet piques your curiosity, “Ooh did you buy me something?” 

Jake scoffs and skips over to you with it in hand, “Eh, excuse me, I am actually liked in my work and someone got me a gift.” He held his head proud before sitting down next to you.

“Right, you mean you got your Secret Santa present today that your boss forces on you every year?” You lift your eyebrows waiting for him to respond.

“Well yeah, but mandatory or not,” He waves the bag in your face, “I got a present.” 

Swatting it away, your eyes roll as you smile. He looked proud as punch to have gotten something, “Did you open it?”

“Do pigeons fly in the sky? Of course I opened it.” Traditionally, you’re supposed to wait until the 25th to open any gift but it wasn't going to be gold, frankincense, or myrrh, so big boy Jesus in the sky isn’t going to care if presents are opened before his birthday.

“So what did you get?” You try to sneak a look in the bag but he pulls it away and tuts.

“I got the usual, socks, a festive tie, sample bottles of whiskey, and,” A smirk graces his face when he remembers what else he got, “Actually, there might be a present for you in here.”

Puzzled, you eye the bag up once again but he stands up, “I’ll be right back, baby.” Leaving a peck on your lips he dashes out, gift bag in hand, waddling like a kid about to show his parents his new drawing from school. Jake was so cute you could cry.

After a few minutes you hear the jingle from his slippers once again, “Okay, baby close your eyes,” your overly excited boyfriend shouts from the bathroom, “close them tight!” His voice is filled with glee.

“They’re shut!” Shouting back, you wonder what it could be. All you hear is the sound of his slippers trotting towards you and all you can do is laugh. 

Once you feel his presence standing in front of you, the urge to open your eyes is too much to resist, so you peek one open. 

Jake is standing there with his arms spread wide and mouth with the biggest cheeser you’ve ever seen, “Ta-da!” He wiggles his hips to drag your focus down and you cannot believe what you are seeing.

An eruption of laughter fills the room as you double over, your chest losing all ability to breathe at the sight in front of you. Jake laughs along with you, “Good, right?”

Jake stands there in nothing but his elf slippers and a g-string which has his cock tucked into a pouch that’s designed to be Rudolph’s face. The novelty underwear is not at all what you were expecting and you still can’t string a word together for the hilarity of it all.

He turns around to showcase the thong aspect of his underwear, “I do think this finally shows that I have an ass.” In any other circumstance, you probably would make a sarcastic quip about how he’s never going to beat the flat ass allegations but you can’t even look at him, burying your face in the couch seat next to you.

Not helping the situation at all he starts flexing his muscles like he’s in some body building contest, “Do you like it?” His eyes are shining as he looks down at you, your happiness and laughter will always be his favourite thing to witness, even if it means embarrassing himself like this for you. Although, truth be told, he isn’t embarrassed at all, he never is when he’s with you.

“Who bought you that?” You wheeze out, trying to regain some composure.

“I don’t know, it’s a secret Santa, remember.” He has a suspicion it’s either Jay or Sunghoon but it’s one and the same, he’ll find out eventually. 

Poking the red nose at the tip of his cock you howl when it lights up, “Oh my fucking god.”

“I didn’t even know it did that! How cool.” If his smile gets any wider his face will split in half. You look so fascinated by it, your hands guide him to twist around and showcase his butt again, “See what I mean with the ass? I’ve got cake.”

Slapping his left butt cheek you laugh, “Yeah, yeah.” It’s Christmas so just like some people believe in Santa, you’ll let him believe he’s double cheeked up.

“Want another surprise?” Jake wiggles his eyebrows and leans down to kiss you, lips soft and gentle against yours. Placing one of his hands on your face he grins widely before pulling away, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip, “Yes or no?” 

“Yeah, I do.” He plants one more kiss on your lips and walks away, leaving you time to take in your boyfriend’s body. Someone so lovely and goofy shouldn’t also be graced with such a gorgeous body. He’s the perfect package.

Music infiltrates your ears as the melody of Nat King Cole’s ‘The Christmas Song’ blares from your hi-fi. Jake seductively walks back to you, his eyes narrower than before, “Sit back and feel free to tip me.”

Oh god, “Sim Jaeyun you are NOT giving me a lapdance in that thong.” He cannot be serious, Nat King Cole nor Rudolph deserve this.

His hands run down his body and his teeth take hold of his bottom lip, “C’mon, baby, let me take it for a ride.” 

Lap dances weren't something you guys did a lot of, most of the time it was you just showing off your new bra and panty sets, so to see him eagerly swing his hips and offer you one, you can’t really refuse.

Taking your hands, he puts them on his chest and guides them down to his toned tummy. Whoever sculpted him in their lab must have had you in mind because he was everything you could have asked for. You keep your hands on his v-line and claw at each side slightly, he loves to be scratched like this.

Jake’s cock twitches at your action and it makes Rudolph jerk up, causing another laugh to leave you. Your boyfriend is too caught up in the feeling of your hands on him that he doesn’t even register what you’re laughing at, “Hmm?”

“Rudolph’s getting a bit excited,” You say smiling, staring at the garment.

“I heard he likes to be petted.” Jake jokes, wiggling his cock in your face. 

Looking into the wide eyes of the pouch as it moves from side to side is actually quite unsettling, like he’s pleading for help to be off your boyfriend's penis, something you can’t relate to, “Jake please you’re giving Rudolph whiplash.”

Stilling his hips he takes your left hand and puts it over his clothed member, waiting for you to stroke down, but when you don’t he pouts, “You’re going to make him sad.”

“This is supposed to be my present.” You state, removing your hand and sitting back, “I’m still waiting for it.” 

Jake smirks because you’re playing his game back to him. Honestly, he’s so lucky to have you, someone who just goes with whatever the flow is, not taking anything too seriously, he loves you so much for that. Continuing his previous task he puts his hands on your knees and strokes up your thighs, his eyes not leaving yours. The booty shorts you’re wearing leave your skin bare to receive his wet kisses, each one lingering longer than the last.

His hands slink around your hips and under your ass to pull you to the edge of the couch, “If this is how lap dances go in your world you are never allowed in a strip club ever again.” You say anticipating his next move. What you are expecting though doesn’t happen. 

Rather, he moves up to hover his whole body over you, body waving as he does and it makes you giggle. When he rolls his hips his cock brushes against your abdomen, and the feeling of the material covering him tickles you. The over dramatic ‘sexy’ face he is trying to pull reminds you of when Hozier used the sexy Squidward filter which only adds to the merriment. He’s no Magic Mike, more like a Mediocre Matthew, but he’s yours and he’s trying, that’s all that matters.

Jake stops his attempt at seducing you when Mariah Carey's ‘All I Want for Christmas’ blares from the speakers, instead opting to sing the words to you, “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need,” His fingers tickle your sides to make you squeal in delight and titter, his mouth grazing your neck, smile is evident as you feel it across your skin.

“I just want you for me own, more than you could ever know.” He scatters a short burst of smooches on the base of your neck whenever there are no lyrics to be sung. The song was true though, all he wanted for Christmas was you, everything else was just a bonus because he didn’t need anything else as long as you were with him.

As the song picks up, Jake shoots up with a shit-eating grin and pulls you up with him, “Dance with me!” The bells on his slippers are going crazy as he kicks his feet and does what you think would be considered a shit version of the jive but you’re not too sure. That’s the thing about your man, one minute he can be sultry and sexy, then in a flash, he’s being silly and eccentric. It keeps a dynamic in your relationship that you love, making it easy to fall more and more in love with him every day. 

When you start to join in with his terrible dancing the room is filled with laughter, exactly how Christmas is supposed to sound. Taking his hands in yours, you twirl him around, both of you stumbling as he trips over thin air. Instinctively, his hands grab ahold of your waist to steady you.

Your eyes are shut due to how much you’re laughing so you don’t see how fondly Jake is looking at you, like you’re his whole universe. Jake has wanted nothing more than to have a relationship that felt like you were everything to each other; lovers, best friends, soulmates. And he found that in you, you’re his one true love.

“I love you.” It comes out of nowhere, so much so you tilt your head with a ‘huh?’, “I love you, Y/N.” It’s not the first time he’s said it, Jake’s probably proclaimed his love for you a million times over, but this one feels like its meaning runs a little deeper than the others.

Pouting you squish his cheeks with your palms and kiss his protruded lips, “I love you too, Jake.” The moment is so sweet it could make anyone sick and if you saw anyone else act the way you two did you would probably want to throw them in a fireplace for being so cringy but by your logic, since it’s you and Jake it’s fine.

It dawns on you how this sentimental moment is being had with his current attire, “I need you out of this thong, I’m sorry.” A giggle leaves your lips when you look down to see distressed Rudolph once again.

“He still wants that pet, y’know. He’s earned it now.” Jake jumps slightly to bounce his cock and make the reindeer nod.

“For the love of God if you stop doing that I’ll do anything you want.” You plead, hands covering your face. 

Kicking his slippers off hurriedly and ridding himself of the hopefully never to be seen again underwear, he lifts you up and carries you to the bedroom, kissing your nose delicately. As he walks you see the thong lying sadly on the floor.

You’re never going to look at Rudolph the same again. 

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I think we all know I basically spent these 3 chapters cackling maniacally

In the demon business, we call that BAIT!

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I'm all but wiggling happily. I love a good game of chess. I'm not entirely sure it actually is a game of chess beyond in Kabru's mind.

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OH GOOD HE'S A LITTLE BIT STUPID. This comic really does take care to portray people as badass, hyper-competent, and kinda stupid, all in different ways.

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oh, ALWAYS love a Santa-coded crime boss.

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I appreciate that Kabru's pride is solidly among the things he's 100% willing to temporarily ignore in order to be someone's friend/get them to do what he wants. I like that in a man.

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Interesting - clearly he's being magically influenced, but not so...directly? as to have the hourglass pupils.

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^ words of a man who is about to get his ass, and his entire criminal organization, absolutely WHUPPED by like 6 elves. I suspect the Canaries are underestimating the tallmen and other denizens of this dungeon, because they're arrogant pricks, but the locals are underestimating this elite team of elvish warriors a LOT more. I can't wait to find out what they're actually doing while "sight-seeing." Spreading out into tactical positions, maybe?

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ASS! WHUPPED! omg it's like an evil version of the Wink.

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I want to see this fight animated so fucking bad.

I dunno, Kabru, he clearly uses the combination pretty fucking effectively.

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WHY DO YOU THINK THAT A VISIBLE DEMONSTRATION OF MONSTERS WILL GET THROUGH WHERE WORDS DIDN'T? These people already know there are monsters down here... And at best, of course, a bunch of people will die... But they're just short-lived races so I suppose it doesn't matter :)

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While I do appreciate this dedication to making Mithrun look as cool as possible at all times, sending a giant, zombie-making walking mushroom into the middle of the Level 4 lake is going to be SUCH a disruption to that ecosystem!! Somewhere, Senshi just groaned in pain like Obi-Wan when Alderaan was destroyed.

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Mithrun has recognized that Kabru is going at picking out unusual people in a crowd, and is now using him as a manhandled tool to do so, and I just think that's Neat.

And it works! (So now it's their turn to get their asses handed to them.)

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This chapter cover is giving me a lot of feelings about...love, and families of choice.

Except for how I'm holding Laios in one arm while brandishing a knife at that lion fountain behind him. Get the HELL away from my boy, you tiny manifestation of the granting of wishes, and all you greater ones as well.

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oh are they now? They're definitely canaries in a coal mine, then. Badass and valued for their skills, but disposable. Hmm AU where Marcille...

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oh my god holy shit never mind, it turns out Thistle sucks at this when facing an opponent who isn't caught off-guard.

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It is possible that Mithrun is honestly, earnestly trying to help Thistle? As best he can?

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Sharing food as love!!!

MY GIRL!!

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STILL A TEAM!

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Oh Mithrun actually only has one eye, it's not just dramatic anime effect + hair flop? Hm. Should have a cool scar to make it clearer. I'm impressed with what depth perception he's shown, though, with the teleporting!

Obviously this does mean he ranks up in the Favorite Characters list.

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Kabru: Ooh nice strategy, manipulating all those people in order to manipulate that one person!

Kabru: Wait, right, I still don't like you.

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Yes! Yes! The Kabru's inner desires is OUT! He is impulsively risking this chance to prevent another Utaya - his stated goal, the obvious greater good, definitely very genuinely his primary focus - in favor of demanding the answers he WANTS, and the independence from long-lived elves.

YOU TELL 'EM, BUDDY! TAKE A STAND! BURN YOUR BRIDGES!!

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I appreciate that Mithrun isn't bad at this personal assessment thing.

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brb need to go chew a wall or something!

[czenzo]

Just an Act

[ao3]

summary: When Lockwood & Co. are called out on a case involving a jealousy-ridden Visitor, Lucy is forced to confront her own tangle of feelings and why it bothers her so much to see someone shamelessly flirt with her boss.

words: 6,360 rating: T

notes: this is my secret santa gift for Mar (@thegirlfromthesea)—I hope you like it! thank you to the Lockwood discord for hosting it again :)

happy holidays!

“So, Mr Lockwood, where’d you learn to use your rapier like that?”

Lucy snorted; she couldn’t help it.

A girl, not much older than Lucy, looked up at Lockwood through thick lashes. She was stereotypically pretty—irritatingly so—and had taken quite the shine to the company leader.

Lockwood smiled politely. “I took lessons as a young boy. Fantastic teachers, they were. Now, er—if you don’t mind, Miss…?”

“Haine,” she said with a smile. “Emily Haine. But, ooh, just Emily is fine.”

Watching Haine stick by Lockwood’s side as he inspected the nooks and crannies of the master bedroom made Lucy think of a limpet. The girl leaned in further and ogled his figure in that slightly too tight suit of his; it negated the explanation she gave of wanting to ‘learn the tricks of the trade’ when they first encountered her. They were only an hour into their work for the evening, and Lucy had already held back several scoffs.

Lockwood awkwardly cleared his throat. “Miss Haine, if you would be so kind as to give us a tad more space so we can work efficiently, that would be wonderful.”

She took a single step back.

George, who had been mid-tea sip, spluttered. “Christ. Lockwood, I’ll go and get a head start on the other room readings while you deal with this. Luce, do you want—”

Lucy scooped up her bag and held the door open for him. “Yes.”

Once the door swung shut behind them, George turned to her with a knowing look. “Not too keen on her, are you?”

She gave him a sidelong glance as they advanced down the hallway. “You don’t seem to be, either.”

“Anyone—or anything—that hinders our work is a nuisance in my book, sweet young girl or not." He paused to clean his glasses on the hem of his jumper then added with a chuckle, "She batted her eyelashes so much I thought she’d fly away any minute.”

Lucy held back what she was sure was a very ugly bout of laughter. “I can’t believe Mr Albrecht is letting his staff run around all willy-nilly while we’re trying to work.”

“I doubt that's the case,” George said. “This place is massive. He’ll have loads of staff, but she’s the only one we’ve come across. There must be a reason for it.”

Lucy’s reply tapered off as she eyed up the closed door they were distancing themselves from. Lockwood was on the other side of it—and now, with a lack of audience, Haine was likely to throw all shame out of the window. Lucy shook away the mental image of her idiotically cuddling up to him. Lockwood had self-respect and at least a shred of common sense, she reminded herself. He would keep turning down her advances despite being alone, surely?

“Luce?”

She blinked and turned to George, only to find they were no longer walking. “What?”

“You trailed off and stopped. Everything okay?”

She looked back to the door again, for what she told herself would be the last time.

“Ooh, she’s really gotten under your skin, hasn’t she? Tell you what, how about we get some recordings of this…” he pushed open the door beside him and it opened with a menacing creak, “lovely little bathroom—god, it looks like it’s never been used—and then we can crack open the biscuits?”

Biscuits were a good solution to (or rather, distraction from) many problems. Not that Lucy had any in that particular moment—Lockwood could fend for himself, Haine’s pursuit of him was not her concern—but she wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to dig into the digestives.

The bathroom wasn’t far from the size of Lucy’s bedroom at 35 Portland Row, and George hadn’t been kidding when he first peered inside: it was squeaky clean. When Mr Albrecht, their filthy-rich client and owner of the property, had given them one last briefing before hightailing it out of the place, Lucy recalled he had mentioned something about eight bathrooms. At the time she’d brushed it off in favour of focusing on the important info—i.e., the Visitor that was disturbing his family and targeting staff—but as she swept her gaze across the pristine porcelain and sparkling tiles, it came back to her with clarity. Eight bathrooms between its three non-staff occupants… no wonder this one looked as if it had been pulled straight from a catalogue.

“I’d bet good money we’re the only human contact this room’s seen, besides the installers,” George sniffed, pulling out his notepad. “I’d bet those digestives that nothing’s here, but we ought to take readings anyway.”

They went through the motions. Lucy checked temperatures (nothing out of the ordinary, as suspected) and Listened for disturbances (the pipes were a bit squeaky, but that didn’t count as a psychical threat), while George jotted everything down. Once they were done, they wasted no time in retrieving the biscuits and thermoses from the depths of their bags.

For the first time that evening, Lucy took the skull jar out. It sat between them in their small iron circle (made more out of habit than necessity) and immediately began pulling faces at George. It had formed an annoying habit of waffling while clients spoke and shouting random numbers as she took readings, so for the sake of her own sanity she’d kept the jar shut tight.

Up until now.

“I reckon if you bludgeon that soppy little fool you could hide her body in this bathtub and it’d be years before anyone found her.”

George looked at Lucy expectantly.

“It doesn’t like Miss Haine,” she translated. George simply nodded and dunked a biscuit in his tea.

“That was some shocking paraphrasing, Lucy. I never said I didn’t like the girl—I said I’d be completely at peace if you caved her skull in and made the body disappear. Two very different things, I tell you.”

Lucy decided that didn’t warrant a reply. “What do you think about the case, George?”

His face lit up at the chance to delve into it again; it was so charmingly George that Lucy felt a sudden surge of fondness for him. “The staff’s reports of a detailed apparition makes a Spectre quite likely. One mentioned it looked like a young man, so I researched deaths on the property while at the archives—and sure enough, a few poor sods have met their end here. An ancestor of Albrecht’s from the 19th century got shot just outside, a lad who used to work here not long ago slipped down the main staircase, and a burglar recently got caught in the act and had a heart attack when the police apprehended him. What a way to go, eh?”

“Would any of them have a reason to return, though?”

George shrugged noncommittally. “In one way or another. The ancestor’s death stopped the ownership of the property transferring to him, the ex-staff might’ve been unhappy with how he was treated here, and the burglar… well, if I died in those circumstances, I’d be pretty miffed. I’d come back to haunt the place as a distraction from that embarrassment.”

“Your whole life’s an embarrassment.”

This time, it was Lucy’s turn to splutter mid-sip.

“What? What did it say?”

She shook her head. “Nothing important.”

George narrowed his eyes, but soon let it go. “Another biscuit?”

“Go on, then.” Lucy reached for the proffered sleeve but froze when an ear-splitting shriek echoed down the hall. She shoved the skull jar in her bag and discarded the tea and biscuits in favour of bolting in the direction of the scream, with George not far behind.

Lucy threw open the door, rapier in hand.

The skull, half-sticking out of her bag, peered over her shoulder and cackled. It let out a comment so crude Lucy would have winced if she weren’t so distracted by the way Haine had her arms wrapped around Lockwood.

George panted heavily beside Lucy. “What happened?”

Haine held on for a moment longer, then had the gall to look sheepish as she slowly pulled away. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr Lockwood! I could’ve sworn I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, and oh, it looked awful, and I knew I could count on you to protect me from it.”

“Pah! What a trollop.”

Lucy, rapier still raised, looked to Lockwood. His face was pointedly blank as he considered the blushing girl beside him. In the blink of an eye, one of his trademark smiles appeared—to Lucy’s relief, it wasn’t one of the charming or flirting variety, but instead one of careful politeness.

“I’m glad you feel you can put your trust in us,” he said, “but I can assure you there’s certainly no psychic activity in this room, according to the readings we got. Not a single death glow, either. There’s a slight draught in here—perhaps the movement you saw was the curtains.”

“The atmosphere seems to be taking a toll on you, Miss,” Lucy said. Her knuckles ached from her grip tightening around her rapier hilt. “We should get you set up to stay somewhere else for the night, so we can work without you getting in the—er, without you being at risk.”

“Nice catch, really smooth. Though personally, if I cared enough about dear old Locky, I would’ve just told the bint to sod off.”

Haine eyed Lucy with disdain. “What on earth is that thing sticking out of your bag?”

“Nothing,” Lucy said, shoving the jar further in and out of sight. She hadn’t the time to flick the lever in the same motion, so the skull’s cries and colourful insults were still audible. She prided herself on her ability to keep a poker face as it described, at length, where exactly Miss Haine should shove it.

Lockwood swiftly moved the conversation on. “Good idea, Luce. Mr Albrecht mentioned he usually has a team of night staff—where are they tonight, Miss Haine?"

“Most stayed home. The few who didn't get the memo in time and showed up anyway were sent to a nearby hotel for the night... But it’s so late now, they wouldn’t possibly take me in.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes. “Why didn’t you join them?”

“Ah, well, when he informed them all of the arrangements, I was preoccupied.”

“With what?”

“I was—er, ah… I was polishing. The bathrooms. You saw how clean they were, yes?”

George peered at her over his glasses. “We assumed it was because no one used them.”

“Oh no, they do. And I clean them—a lot! So I missed Mr Albrecht’s instructions. And then I stumbled upon you three!”

“Four.”

Lucy frowned. “If she gets hurt, Lockwood… We’ll be liable.”

“Yes, that is true,” Lockwood said, his smile now laced with a hint of uncertainty. “Time’s ticking, though, and we need to get a move on. Since we’ve deemed this room safe, we can keep her in here. The two of you can help me quickly fortify the room, and then we can resume work. Is that alright with you, Miss Haine?”

Lucy had never seen her expression look so sour. Her short reply of “Yes” was not convincing at all, but the trio got to work laying out protection for her nonetheless.

“All sorted,” Lockwood said, clapping his hands together. “You shouldn’t be disturbed in here, but just to be safe, don’t leave this circle. If you need anything at all, give us a shout.”

“There’s some tea in that thermos,” George added, “and I’ve generously donated a few biscuits. That’ll keep you going til dawn, I reckon.”

“Thank you,” Haine said stiffly.

Lucy plastered a smile onto her face, though she couldn’t manage the same amount of fake politeness as Lockwood. “You’re welcome.”

Without the hindrance of a fourth unqualified person, Lockwood & Co.’s efficiency skyrocketed. Lucy lost count of how many rooms they took readings in. The place was eerily labyrinthian, and she was grateful that George had the mind to print out a map beforehand.

The evening grew darker, and after locating the area with the most psychical red flags—the staff quarters, a small series of rooms in the basement—set up their own iron circle in preparation for any oncoming manifestations.

After filling Lockwood in on his suspicions, George sat cross-legged and leaned back on his hands. “I’m surprised we haven’t heard a peep out of Haine yet.”

“I thought she’d be calling out for her knight in shining armour in minutes,” Lucy said, an amused smirk creeping onto her face.

Lockwood raised an eyebrow. “I’m assuming you’re referring to me?”

“‘Course I am. She was all over you.”

“I wouldn’t say that… ” He averted his gaze. “But she did seem rather fond of me.”

“God knows why. I’d rather neck a street rat than look Lockwood in the eye.”

Lockwood frowned as he watched the skull’s ghostly mouth move. “What is it saying?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Should we let Albrecht know one of his staff’s gone rogue?” George said, straightening to stretch his back with an odd groan.

Lucy wasn’t sure why every fibre of her being was advocating for the girl’s downfall. After a moment’s consideration, she chalked it up to being ‘hangry’—as Bobby Vernon once used to describe George in a heated conversation—and grabbed another biscuit.

“Legally, it would be the right thing to do,” Lockwood mused. “But I’d hate to be the reason the poor girl loses her job. If she keeps shtum for the rest of the night, I’m happy to let it go. Is that fair?”

George shrugged. Lucy made a noise of vague discontent. The skull voiced its own unpleasant opinion.

“Great,” Lockwood said with a grin. “It’s settled.” He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and checked his watch. “Miasma’s setting in. We ought to be seeing activity soon… Have you heard anything yet, Luce?”

As a matter of fact, she had—the skull’s voice notwithstanding. “The occasional word. I can’t make out what it's saying, but it’s definitely a young man’s voice. It’s steadily increasing in volume and frequency.”

“Good, we’re on the right track. George is probably spot on with the Spectre assumption. And considering where we are, it’s likely to be the lad who used to work here.” He eyed up the room around them, and Lucy followed suit. 

Presumably, this was where Albrecht’s staff spent their breaks, away from the demands of the filthy-rich family. They were in the ‘lobby’, so to speak, of the staff area. It was a small room with sparse seating, various mops and brooms propped against the far wall, and an old radio next to some stale refreshments. Branching off from the main room was a restroom and a dingy bedroom containing the flattest mattress she’d ever laid eyes on. It was so far from the life of luxury the Albrechts lived it almost felt like a different building entirely. It meant George was probably correct about yet another thing—the deceased staff member might have returned seeking revenge against his stingy employer.

Lockwood’s narrowed eyes suggested he was having the same train of thought. “What I am wondering, however, is why now? You said he died a year or so ago, George, but Mr Albrecht said his staff only started complaining in the past few months.”

“Can’t say for sure. Maybe someone disturbed his Source while working?”

The skull let out a cackle. Lucy’s gaze snapped to it. “Do you know something?”

“Maybe I do.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows. “And?”

“Maybe I don’t.”

“There’s no need to be difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult, it’s just” —it let out an elated cry—“this is hilarious. You’re so close to the truth! I’d bet good money you can’t get it through your thick skull, though.”

“What?” She frowned. “What do you mean?”

Lockwood leaned forward. “What’s it saying, Luce?”

“It knows something. Said we’re close to the truth, but doesn’t have faith we’ll work it out.”

“No no, I said you. Cubbins’ll be on it in no time, I reckon. He isn’t riddled with the same distractions as you are.”

She carefully repeated its words, and George’s face lit up. “Oh, now I really want to know what it’s going on about.”

“Are you talking to a jar?” An annoyingly familiar voice said from the entrance.

Three heads whipped around in surprise, one haunted skull cackled gleefully, and one Spectre manifested in the middle of the room.

Haine screamed as Lockwood leapt forward, rapier slicing through the Visitor within seconds of its appearance.

Lucy and George scrambled to their feet. With the skull as a distraction, Lucy hadn’t noticed the disembodied voice becoming more prominent, but now it had her full attention. The pressure in her head made her wince and let out a hiss of pain. George gently placed a hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing soothing circles in a silent moment of understanding.

Lockwood hauled Haine into the iron circle. “What—and I say this out of concern for your safety—the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, Miss Haine? We asked you to stay inside the circle. You could’ve been killed!”

Haine was deathly pale, and it took far longer than expected for her to voice a reply. “I… I know him.”

“You recognised the Visitor?” George said. The skull continued to laugh.

She nodded shakily. “His name is Adam. He works—worked here. We… had a thing, so to speak. He was lovely. But one day he… he—oh, god, he—”

“Slipped and fell down that huge staircase in the foyer?”

Haine let out a choked sob.

The voice had quietened; Lucy was able to think clearly again. “You said you ‘had a thing’?”

“His return could have something to do with that,” George said.

Lockwood nodded. “It’s likely. Now, Miss Haine, I beg you to stay inside these chains. We’re dealing with a dangerous Type Two that has personal ties to you. He may target you. Please let us work unhindered.”

“Or, if you do get in the way, at least make your death entertaining.”

“Unfaithful…”

Lucy tried to discreetly whisper to the jar she’d left on the floor. “What?”

“I said, if she does get in the way—”

“No, no, not that. The other thing.”

“That wasn’t me, Lucy. All this time being your partner in crime and you can’t even recognise my voice?” It scoffed. “Those biscuits have a higher IQ than you.”

“Mine…”

The words were a welcome distraction from the way Haine clung onto Lockwood’s sleeve. “I can hear him. I can make out the words.”

“What is he saying?”

“Unfaithful. Mine.” She paused, and then, “Cheat.”

Haine tightened her grip. “Adam said those things?”

“Oh,” George said. “Oh.”

“What did I say, Lucy? I bloody knew he’d catch on first! Oh, I’m a genius. I deserve some kind of award.”

“What?” Lockwood said, somewhat impatient.

“Miss Haine,” George said slowly, “are you naturally flirtatious?”

The sudden change of topic startled her. “Well, I wouldn’t say that… But if a man’s good-looking, I’m not going to ignore it.” She glanced at Lockwood for a split second. “Take Richie, for example—he started here earlier this year, and I know we’re colleagues, but you only live once. I wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to—”

“When did he start working here?”

“Er… A few months ago, I think?” Her irritation was visible as she spoke to George; it was a stark contrast to how she behaved with Lockwood. “How is this relevant?”

“There we go,” George said with satisfaction. “Adam still has feelings for you, and isn’t particularly pleased to see you moving on.”

Haine let out a small, dumb, “Oh.”

Lockwood whistled, long and slow. “Visitors with romantically oriented returns tend to be the most aggressive. Stay on your guard, everyone. And once again, Miss Haine, do not—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, though everyone surely knew what he planned to say. They were all too distracted by the Spectre’s return to dwell on it, however.

He stood—or rather, floated a few centimetres off the ground—near the iron circle, and now Lucy could get a closer look at him. He was faded and blurry around the edges, but she could still make out the inner details. He wore a similar getup to Haine, with the dark trousers and a slightly wrinkled white button-up. His attire, combined with his red hair and thin face, made him look alarmingly like a fusion of Lockwood and Kipps. What caught Lucy’s attention the most, however, was the ugly bruising circling his neck. It was a grim reminder of how he met his untimely death.

He was so young. He couldn’t have been much older than Lockwood or George. Emotions were distracting; Lucy let out a shaky sigh and tried to let it wash over her. Meanwhile Haine, untrained and vulnerable, broke out into a fit of sobs.

“How are we dealing with this, Lockwood?” George said, ready to leap into action with his rapier in hand.

“Miss Haine, I’m sorry to ask this when you’re feeling so delicate, but we need to locate Adam’s Source. Do you have any idea as to what it could be?”

Haine sniffed and ungracefully dragged a sleeve across her damp face. “No. I haven’t got a clue, I…”

Lucy felt a pang of sympathy. It was almost enough to make her forget what had irked her about the girl earlier. “It could be anything with sentimental value to him, or something involved in his… passing.”

The skull scoffed. “Don’t start going soft on her now.”

Haine turned away from the Spectre and curled further in on herself. “He wasn’t a materialistic person. Never let me get him gifts. But—oh. Oh! He was working when he fell, he…” Her eyes swept the room and stopped when they found the mops. “He was using one of those! Oh god, you don’t think…?”

Lockwood nodded solemnly. “It could be one of them, yes.”

Adam’s voice was still audible in Lucy’s mind. “He’ll pounce the second we step foot out of these chains.”

Haine moved closer to Lockwood. In the blink of an eye she was leaning into him, one hand resting gently on his arm. “I’m so scared. What if he—”

A cry ripped from Adam’s throat as he rushed forward.

Lucy flinched and stumbled backwards. She crashed into Lockwood, who caught her and set her upright. “Miss Haine, try to keep your hands off our boss. Your late ex isn’t very fond of him.”

“He sees Lockwood as competition? By far the worst case of insecurity I’ve ever seen.”

“He sees Lockwood as competition,” Lucy murmured, then repeated it louder as it dawned on her. “Lockwood’s riling him up. If we can get Adam to disregard him, he might calm down long enough for us to reach his Source.”

“Good thinking, Luce,” George said.

Lockwood took a careful, wide sidestep away from Haine. “How are we pulling that off?”

“You’re a real threat to him if you’re single,” Haine said. “You are single, aren’t you?”

Lucy’s head pounded as Adam’s voice boomed.

“Er,” Lockwood said eloquently.

“Not any more,” George declared, before pushing Lucy and Lockwood together. They collided and instinctively grabbed onto one another to avoid tumbling out of the chains.

As Lockwood looked down at Lucy, George’s intent dawned on her. She adjusted herself so one hand wrapped around Lockwood’s torso, and leant into him like she’d seen Haine doing all evening. Slowly, Lockwood’s hand reached up behind her and rested at the nape of her neck, toying with the hairs there like it was second nature. Lucy’s stomach did strange flips while the skull feigned retching and loudly voiced its complaints.

Haine made an odd noise. George smiled like the cat that got the cream and turned to face Adam triumphantly—only to find he was no longer there.

“Give it a minute,” he said. “Miss Haine, try coming onto Lockwood again.”

“You can’t force those kinds of things,” Haine insisted.

“Try it anyway.”

She rolled her eyes. “Mr Lockwood, you’re looking rather dashing in that waistcoat.”

“Blind as a bat, she must be.”

Lucy turned her head to look at the waistcoat in question and was met by a familiar smell she’d come to associate with the feeling of home; for a brief second, she almost forgot she was out on a case.

The waistcoat did look nice, albeit a bit snug.

“Oh, I’d gouge my eyes out if I had any.”

George was tense in anticipation, but relaxed after a few moments of nothing. “I dare say I think it worked. Adam seems happy that Lockwood can’t possibly be interested in Miss Haine if he’s preoccupied with Luce.”

“‘Preoccupied’ is an odd way of putting it,” Lockwood said. His thin fingers continued to drift along the back of Lucy’s neck, and it was a whole world of distraction. She struggled to think straight and subconsciously tightened her grip on Lockwood’s waist. If he noticed she’d brought him closer, he didn’t let on.

“Stay there,” George said, holding his hands up as if they were jittery animals. “I’ll have a look at the mops.”

“It would be pure comedy gold if Cubbins kicks the bucket while you’re busy fondling each other. God, Lucy, you’re only supposed to be acting. Dial it back a bit, you desperate ninny.”

Lucy watched with bated breath as George cautiously stepped over the chains. He held his rapier aloft in anticipation and in a few large steps reached the far wall where the mops stood. Keeping his back to the wall, George stayed alert as he passed a hand over each mop. He violently flinched upon making contact with the last; it teetered and fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

“Got it. It’s freezing cold.”

Lucy held tightly onto Lockwood. His hand had steadied on her shoulder; the weight kept her grounded as she Listened for oncoming danger. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Haine alternating between giving her strange looks and watching George.

The skull faked a yawn. “Just get on with it already.”

The sound of its voice mingled with Adam’s whispers—he was still present, still watching, and had taken notice of George’s movements.

“Hurry, George,” Lucy murmured. Her hand came to rest on a salt bomb in her belt.

From the depths of his duffel, George had to retrieve one of their largest silver nets. It came out snarled and scrunched, and for an excruciatingly long moment, he stood there untangling it.

“God, this is painful,” Haine said. She watched for a second longer before huffing and stepping out of the chains towards him. “Here, let me—”

“CHEAT!” roared Adam; he materialised mere feet away and wasted no time in rushing towards Haine with outstretched arms.

Lucy and Lockwood moved synchronously. Together they leapt, Lockwood brandishing his rapier and Lucy taking aim with a salt bomb, and landed in the space between Haine and her enraged lover. Lockwood’s blade swung and the bomb soared from Lucy’s hand; both hit Adam with a vicious hiss of ectoplasm and a ghostly howl.

Not a moment later, George unceremoniously dropped the silver net on the mop.

Lucy’s ears popped and her jaw ached as the effects of the Visitor’s presence lifted. She didn’t mean to lean into Lockwood as her shoulders slumped, but neither of them moved away, and at some point his hand had returned to her shoulder.

“That was possibly the most boring outcome,” the skull lamented. “I was hoping to at least see Lover Girl croak. Not you, Lucy, the other one.”

“That was simple enough,” George said, nudging the sides of the net inwards.

Lockwood grinned. “Good work, you two. And as for you, Miss Haine”—his smile faded as he turned to her—“we’ll have to inform Mr Albrecht about what went down here, which means telling him you, er…”

“Went rogue,” Lucy supplied.

“Rogue, yes.”

Haine’s gaze was unflinching. “Perhaps I should tell him the true nature of your company, then.”

He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“Being involved with your employee isn’t a good look, Mr Lockwood,” she said, with a hint of smugness.

Lockwood scoffed and exchanged glances with Lucy and George. “And what do you mean by that?”

“Are you kidding?” She nodded to him and Lucy, who suddenly became minutely aware of how much of Lockwood’s body was pressed against hers. The warmth of his hand seeped through the layers of her clothes. “It’s obvious that relationship distraction wasn’t an act at all. Tell Albrecht I was here and I’ll tell him what you two really got up to in his bathrooms tonight.”

“Oh. I’m starting to warm up to her, actually.”

*****

As they waited for a taxi outside Albrecht’s manor, Lockwood shivered and turned up his collar. “I can’t believe she blackmailed us with a complete lie.”

“It was either that, or find yourself on the front page of tomorrow’s Times,” George said.

“Lovebird agents shag in millionaire client’s bathtub,” the skull chuckled. “What a headline.”

“We should have found another way around it,” Lucy said indignantly. “Albrecht deserves to know the truth of what happened tonight, whether Haine threatens us or not. Besides—who’s to say he’d even believe her, anyway? She’s only one of… many staff.”

“We can think of something after a good night’s rest.” George yawned. “All the stairs in that place tired me out.”

He fell asleep in the taxi, notebook open in his lap and pen still poised to continue writing his notes. Lucy carefully placed them back in his bag, then caught Lockwood watching her from the passenger seat. His smile was small but tender. It was the one he usually reserved just for Lucy, the one that never failed to make her heart flutter.

“I need to talk to you before you turn in for the night,” he said. He looked at George, then back to her. “Privately, if you don’t mind.”

She suddenly felt as tense as she had been in the iron circle. “‘Course. Is everything alright?”

“Oh, everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” He flashed her one of his bigger smiles, then turned back around to face the roads swathed in the light of the ghost-lamps.

Despite Lockwood’s reassurance, it still niggled at the back of Lucy’s mind the rest of the way home. She gently shook George awake as they pulled up outside 35 Portland Row and bid him goodnight before he began to trudge upstairs.

After dropping the skull jar off in her room, she found Lockwood in the kitchen turning the kettle on. He set out two mugs and turned to lean his back against the counter. When his eyes met hers, he smiled. “Luce,” he said, quietly. “Tea?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Her feet ached from the long night; she hopped up to sit on the counter near him. “What did you want to talk about?”

For a moment his brows furrowed, his gaze drifted to the side, and he seemed as if he were trying to recall something—as if he’d planned out exactly what to say, and was now struggling to find it again. Lucy restlessly shuffled her weight around, trying to make herself comfortable on the cool granite.

Lockwood took a breath. “What Haine said… it bothered me.”

“Well, yeah. She blackmailed us with an outright fib—she’s a nasty piece of work.”

“No—I mean, yes, that was awful, but that’s not what I’m talking about right now. She said it was obvious that us being together ‘wasn’t an act at all’, didn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Lucy said slowly. “But it clearly was. She’s probably as thick as she is manipulative.”

Lockwood’s gaze flicked up to the ceiling; a subtle wince passed across his face before he spoke. “Was it?”

“What?”

He looked back to her, face utterly sincere. “An act.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure I know what you’re getting at, Lockwood.”

Lockwood’s mouth opened and for a second, he appeared on the verge of saying something uninhibited. The kettle clicked, snapping him out of it, and he got to work putting their drinks together. “It was unprofessional. A complete lapse in judgement. I wanted to apologise to you, Lucy, in case it made you uncomfortable.”

“Er… Well, it’s not like there was an alternative. And George was the one who orchestrated it, anyway.”

“That can’t have been our only option,” he insisted. “I shouldn’t have gone along with it. I should have looked for another way for us to deal with the situation.”

“Lockwood, it’s fine. It was fine.” She leaned to the side, putting herself in his line of sight. “You’re fine.”

“Am I?” His usual smile and bravado were gone, leaving nothing but worry etched into his features. “I’m concerned I’m blurring the lines too much in my relationship to you. Yes, I’m your friend, but I’m also your employer. I forget how much power I technically hold over you.” He let the spoon clatter into one of the mugs. “Accidentally using it against you would be my worst nightmare.”

“You haven’t. And even if you did— though you wouldn’t—we both know I wouldn’t let that slide. If you think I can’t stand up for myself and give you a good kick to the backside if you need it, you’re sorely wrong, Lockwood.”

“No, I know. You’re good like that. I just…” He sighed. “I hate how quickly Miss Haine got the wrong impression of us. We were just doing our job—in a slightly unconventional way, yes, but it was for the sake of the case—and she so easily twisted it into something else. What if she thought I was manipulating you, in some way? What if I was, and neither of us realised?”

“Lockwood, you’re being a bit silly.” She took one of the mugs in both hands and soaked up its warmth. “It’s late, you’re tired, and you’re overthinking it.”

He leaned against the counter and stared into his own mug. “You’re probably right.”

“Besides”—she took a sip, winced at how it scalded her tongue, and surprised herself with the words that fell from her mouth—“I never said it made me uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Stop jumping to conclusions.”

Lockwood’s body stilled, and his gaze flicked to her. “What do you mean?”

She sucked her teeth and decided to throw all caution to the wind. “When George contained the Source, I could’ve let go. I had more than enough space to back away from you. Did I?”

“…No?”

“I held on. I leant into you.”

“You were weary.”

“I enjoyed it,” she said. It was an admission to both Lockwood and herself; part of her wanted to curl up and hide as it dawned on her that she had thoroughly loved being so close to him, and that Haine hadn’t just been annoying, she’d been… competition?

Something clicked, and suddenly Lucy understood Adam.

“You enjoyed it,” Lockwood repeated quietly.

“And hypothetically, if we had to do something like that again, it’d be fine. I’d be fine.”

“On the job, of course.”

The corner of her lip twitched upward. “Of course.”

“And hypothetically,” he spoke slowly, edging away from the counter and closer to her, “if something like that were to happen outside a working environment, how would you feel?”

Her words came out close to a whisper as anticipation flushed her cheeks. “Why don’t you find out?”

“Oh.” Lockwood stopped in front of where she perched on the counter. They were almost at eye level. He held her gaze for a moment before faltering, then spoke with uncertainty: “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never—should we—”

“Me neither,” Lucy said, then pulled him in by the waist to kiss him. He stiffened for a second before melting into her touch; she parted her knees for him to move closer.

Lucy’s grasp softened at Lockwood’s sides when he reached up to cup her face. A small noise escaped her before she leant further into the kiss.

Time seemed to warp—though their lips parted after a few moments, it felt as if a whole hour had passed while they were engrossed in each other. They pressed their foreheads together as their quiet gasps for air filled the otherwise silent kitchen.

Someone cleared their throat by the door.

Lucy and Lockwood’s heads clacked together as they startled, warranting identical hisses of pain as they jerked their heads in the direction of the noise.

George leant against the door frame, clothes rumpled and hair unruly—it was clear he’d fallen straight into bed after coming home.

“Got peckish,” he said, adjusting his crooked glasses. “I see you’ve sorted things out. Took you long enough.”

Lockwood was the first to snap out of the shock. “What?”

“Kipps reckoned it would take another few months, at least,” he said, rummaging through the cupboards. “I had more faith than that.” He poured himself a bowl of cornflakes and drifted back out into the hall. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight,” they both replied, though it came out sounding like a question.

Lockwood caught her eye, and they fell into a fit of laughter. Her head fell onto his shaking shoulder; the rush of giddiness had her feeling wide awake.

For a brief moment, she was not an agent in a Visitor-infested world, she didn’t have to frequently put her life on the line for work, and she hadn’t lost her best friend because of a system that let her down. Instead, she was a normal teenage girl getting flustered over a teenage boy, giggling into the warm fabric of his shirt and hoping he didn’t notice how red her cheeks had become.

Lockwood brushed her hair away with a gentle swipe of his fingers, then pressed a kiss to her temple. “We really are fantastic actors.”

Lucy burst into laughter all over again.

*****

end note: right before posting this I realised I gave Haine almost the exact same name as Metric’s lead singer?? I swear that wasn’t on purpose lol I love u Emily Haines

[masterwords]

blue christmas

Summary: Spencer finds the perfect opportunity to show Luke that he'd like to kick their relationship up a notch.

Pairing: Luke Alvez/Spencer Reid

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: references to Spencer's time in prison, PTSD mention, reference to Spencer's mother's illness, loneliness and Christmas...that being said, this is a happy love filled romantic comfort story.

Read on AO3: blue christmas

Author's Notes: This is my discord Secret Santa gift for @merpancake! It took me out of my comfort zone and I hope I did them justice. You asked for Spencer being the one to make a gesture and boy did he ever! Thank you for challenging me, and thank you for being you. I know you've had a rough year and I hope that this brings at least a small smile to your face. Much love to you my friend! <3 Merry Happy Winter Holidays!

**

It was Penelope’s idea. He kept telling himself that as he stood surveying his apartment, the vintage garland strung up over his prized bookshelves and a small, somewhat bare tree lit up in the corner where his favorite chair should have been. Spencer didn’t like change, and the tree had caused some considerable change but it was the only place he could put it. A lit tree needed to be near a window, on display, and he had to admit that it did look very pretty from the street. Inviting. Warm. Festive. Things that didn’t usually describe his apartment this time of year.

“You don’t have to decorate,” Penelope had said with a smile. “It’s just...you have room, your place is bigger than mine. And we always do this stuff at Rossi’s.”

“Because he has a mansion,” Spencer pointed out with a smirk. She nodded.

“Sure, and that’s fun...but sometimes it’s nice to be a little more cozy.”

What she really meant, he realized, was that his apartment was quiet and sad and more of a place for him to close himself off than anything else. It had always been that way, perhaps, but it was definitely worse since he’d been in prison. She wasn’t wrong.

So, it was Penelope’s idea, and she planned the food and drinks and the Secret Santa exchange...all he had to do was open his door and let everyone in. The decorations came from a box he’d had stashed in his coat closet, way up high, gathering dust. Decorations from when he was a child, things he thought might be lauded as containing poison nowadays but brought back good memories. His mother would put them up even after his father left, she would deck their halls to make him feel something good for the season. And she managed it during the good times and the bad times, it was always something she insisted on. Even if she had never been a fan of the holiday herself, and even if it was the wrong time of year when she did it. More than once he’d woken to Christmas garlands and a full stocking in the middle of July, that was just how it was. And it was okay by him, he’d learned to accept that time didn’t move the same for his mother as it did for everyone else.

And now he was following in her footsteps, throwing decorations over his belongings for the benefit of other people. The garland was shedding all over his floor, scraps of silvery tinsel on hard wood.

Surprisingly, once the apartment was full of twinkling lights and silver garland, it made him smile too. Even the mess was festive.

“Oh, Boy Wonder, you did so good!” Penelope gushed when she walked in, her arms full of bags.

That was how it started, with her oohing and aahing over all of his vintage decorations, over how much space he had, over how many books he had. She’d only been here once or twice before and every time she managed to forget how lovely his place was. Not that she was surprised in the least. It suited him in every single way. “People will be here soon! Are you excited?”

“I uh…” he started, eyes darting over all of the once empty surfaces she’d covered with punch bowls and food trays almost instantly. His apartment looked like a party now. “Yes. Actually. I am.” He was a little surprised to admit that, a little surprised that it wasn’t a lie.

By the time his apartment was full of people, he was regretting it. Just a little. After spending nearly a year locked up, he didn’t do crowds well. They set his nerves on fire and he found himself looking over his shoulder anxiously whether it was warranted or not. In this case, it wasn’t, not even a little...these people were his family...but every movement out of his periphery made his heart jump. He was wishing the party was over and it had barely even begun.

“Secret Santa time!” Penelope exclaimed, waving her arms in the air to get everyone’s attention. “Everyone go find your gift on the table and open them.”

Spencer watched the crush of bodies headed for the little table and waited patiently until it cleared before going and grabbing his, the only one left. He held it close to his chest , unopened, while watching everyone else tear into theirs. Luke in particular.

He’d manipulated his way into being Luke’s Secret Santa, and while that wasn’t strictly against any rules Penelope had laid out he had felt at least a little guilty for ruining the sanctity of random. It was just...they’d been seeing each other casually for a few months, and he’d found himself more than a little bored by it. Not in a way that meant he wanted to stop, but in a way he hadn’t ever really felt before...he was ready to kick it up a notch. Luke looked into the box full of dog toys, little stuffed elves and reindeer and coffee cups and smiled that bright, intoxicating smile that said Spencer had done well. Very well. When their eyes met he mouthed thank you and Spencer could feel the butterflies in his stomach, a warmth that spread from his chest down into his pants. If they were alone right now that smile would be enough to make him drag Luke into the bedroom, it held that much power over him. Instead, Spencer inclined his head briefly, nodding for Luke to meet him in the kitchen.

There, he presented Luke with another gift, one not intended to be opened in front of a crowd. Just a small box he’d been holding in his pocket. An unmarked little white thing with a bright red bow wrapped around it, simple and elegant. “You proposing to me, Agent Reid?” Luke asked with a smirk and a wink. Spencer flushed. That didn’t help that growing warmth in his belly.

“Just open it before I regret it.”

“You never asked my ring size…”

“You know what? I’m taking it back.” Spencer reached out for the box and Luke playfully batted him away.

“Mine,” Luke huffed, delicately untying the bow and popping the lid open. Inside, nestled in a cloudy bed of cotton, was a gleaming silver key. Brand new, freshly cut. Luke grinned. “I’ve always wanted a key,” he said, always the jokester. Spencer reached into his pocket and procured his own keychain, holding up one that matched the key in the box. A little worse for the wear, a little worn down, but a perfect match.

“I’m not sure we’re ready to move in together,” Spencer started, the flush rising from his neck into his cheeks. His skin prickled beneath his wool sweater. “But I thought maybe you’d like to have a key to my place. It’s closer to work, so if you leave late and need a place to crash...or you know...you can just come in. Anytime.”

“Spencer Reid…” Luke said, stepping closer. “Are you sure?” He knew how Spencer felt about his privacy, and how he’d struggled against the PTSD prison left him with. Sharing his apartment in this way felt...well...huge. Unbelievably huge. Luke almost couldn’t believe it.

“I um, yeah. I’m sure. Come here…” he said, grabbing Luke by the hand and dragging him out into the hallway and toward his bedroom. Everyone was so occupied by their gifts and the music that they didn’t seem to notice the two of them had gone missing. “I got you a toothbrush to keep here...and…” he opened a drawer on his dresser, empty where it hadn’t been the day before. “And your own drawer. If you want it.”

“If I want it?” Luke asked, cocking his head to the side. “Spencer…” But he didn’t know the words to adequately sum up how he felt, so he just reached up and hooked Spencer by the back of the neck before pulling him in for a kiss. Spencer tasted like candy canes, his lips sticky from the candy he’d been nervously eating since the party started. Luke had been watching him with the candy cane in his mouth since he’d come in, it was driving him absolutely insane with want. “I love it.”

“You do?” Spencer asked cautiously. “Really?”

“I do. Merry Christmas Spencer,” Luke whispered into another peppermint sugar kiss, this time deeper, hungrier. He was craving candy canes now too.

“Merry Christmas Luke.”

[littlehazbins]

what are the little ones favorite holidays? if they don't mind me asking.

"Ooh don't judge me but I really like Christmas because its so warm and cosy."

"I like Halloween but it's not just for the candy and spookyness, I just like the feeling of Autumn."

"April Fool's day because I get to play pranks without being in trouble plus it's my birthday"

"I'm really fond of Easter, mainly on the eggs."

"I LOVE Valentines Day! My perfect chance to find me some bad boys~"

"Saint Paddies day mostly because I get to pinch people."

"My favourite has got to be Yule, Krampus needs more love than Santa stuff my face in mince pies Claus.

"Bwonfire Nigwht"

[ritzy-reminiscence]

Slamdunk headcanons plss

─🏀─ Slam Dunk : Secret Santa !

⸝⸝ tl;dr : features the starting five, kogure, as well as haruko + ayako ; and what they'll put down in their wishlists for secret santa !

⸝⸝ note : hii, anon ! i'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but i hope you enjoy it either way :DD might as well do a little something-something for the holiday season <33

Hanamichi Sakuragi 🌸

he'll accept anything, to be honest !

maybe some cool shoes ? some funky shirts ? a box of red hair dye ? he'll cherish them all !!

or maybe just plain money, he's not picky ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

if anything, though, i feel like he'd prefer a hangout as a gift rather than material items, ykwim ? i'm talking trips to the amusement park with his friends, window-shopping through shops that he'll never be able to afford (SOBS) point is, he'd rather spend quality time with his friends rather than wish for material things <33

he'd probably bullshit his wishlist though, like he'll write down a whole recipe like "Let's prepare the ingredients you need for honey chicken .. !! :DD"

Ryota Miyagi ⚡

ayako

no but he'd actually write her name down as a joke ... but is it really a joke ...

honestly this is a tough one, but just like Sakuragi I think he'll accept anything as long as the thought's in it :DD

i feel like he'd like some candy, though ?? specifically sour candy, as sour as he can handle !! or just plain food stuff in general ! nothing like receiving food for xmas amirite or amirite

like sakuragi he'll also bullshit his wishlist like "Congratulations Ma'am/Sir, you've won a BRAND NEW IPHONE !! Text ur COMPLETE NAME / AGE / ADDRESS / # / CREDIT CARD INFO to claim !! Congratulations !!!! :O :O :O"

Kaede Rukawa 💤

cats. that's it. that's all you need to know.

cat plushies, cat notebooks, cat pens, cat toys, actual cats, big cats, small cats, he'll take them all

and you know what ... throw in a neck pillow for him as well . he needs his sleep yk, don't wanna wake up to a stiff neck in the middle of bball practice

AND !! new earphones, in case the one he's using breaks down and you know he needs his music to function (and also to block out a certain redhead when he gets too noisy....)

Hisashi Mitsui 🦷

polident denture adhesive

also a hard one to think for, actually ! but i think he'd like some basketball magazines, maybe even sportswear ! some good ol' posters of his favorite bball players would be nice too .

he would also appreciate a kneepad, in red and black just like the one he currently uses ! AND he'll fold if you give him shoes, trust me i was there to witness it

OH !! and comics ; i feel like he'd like comics aa

Kiminobu Kogure 👓

my first thought ? books ! any type, he doesn't mind, but he does have a preference for historic novels, and thrillers/mysteries are always really fun to get

my second thought ? those miniature dollhouse sets that you can build ! either that, or lego !! i headcanon him as someone who really likes to build those sets so :DD

also would like cardigans or sweaters, turtlenecks specifically ! he gotta stay warm for the cold winter season !!

Takenori Akagi 🦍

oo boy ,, yet another tough one ! but just like mitsui i think he'll appreciate basketball magazines and merch ,, and maybe gym equipment ? doesn't even need to be branded or expensive, as long as it helps him work out

OOH and books too ! much like kogure he likes books too, and for him any will do !! (and don't tell anyone this but he'd kill for a nice romance book shh)

Haruko + Ayako

haruko strikes me as someone who likes to scrapbook, if that even makes sense ?? like, she likes to cut and paste stuff she thinks is interesting and put them in a notebook dedicated to such things, and even write little annotations on the sides !

and because of that i think she'll like brush pens and pastel-colored highlighters !! she'd love some stickers too, and prints that she can rip up and arrange in her own special way ; shes so cute ilhsm

AND AYAKO !! ayako .. gives it girl energy. And because of that I think that she'll put clothes in her wishlist ! bell bottoms, flare pants, crop tops, tank tops, the list goes on. She'd love some shiny hair pins too ! magpie ayako supremacy !!

ALSO remember the caligraphy she wrote after shohoku lost to kainan ?? because of that i think she'd also like some good quality brushes and inks to write with :DD

[calicheer-cove]

Select Clientele - Billy Hargrove x Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: Chrissy has her eyes on Billy. Billy has his eyes on Chrissy. He decides to have a little talk with her. What will be her decision?

Author’s Note: The pool flirting scene, but make it Calicheer. Also let me know if you want a part two.

Summertime in the small town of Hawkins meant something different for everyone. For El and Max, this meant sleepovers and playing around with her powers to spy on the boys. For Dustin this meant computer camp to learn and build with the latest in tech ware. For Will, he was hoping for D&D, while Lucas and Mike wondered if their girlfriends were mad at them. As for the older ones, summer internships and jobs to save up for future endeavors. Billy was more than happy to work as a lifeguard if it meant being out of the house. Chrissy, against her mother’s narrow mindedness, worked at the GAP.

Training alongside her friends was a nice change of pace instead of attending bible camp, again. Utilizing her people skills, practicing money management, and keeping the place in tip top shape made the time roll by. Even on days when only a small handful of customers came over, she was happy to be there. Aside from store discounts, she also had the benefit of stopping by Scoops Ahoy! to meet up with Steve and Robin during her lunch breaks. Harrington went on about his failed love life, while Buckley and her rightfully poked fun at him. Dustin was surprised to see Cunningham, feeling apprehensive at first. In time he was able to see that she was actually a nice person. Chrissy thought of him like a second little brother.

Aside from the mall, the community pool was also another big hot spot. The place to be for fun in the sun, much to the boredom of the juniors and seniors working as lifeguards. They did their training and work of course, their faces indicated that they would rather be anywhere than here. Billy was no different, still at least he was able to earn a little extra money and work on his tan. Billy was not ashamed of how he looked, he took pride in his appearance. A number of the mothers clearly took interest. He offered them a charming smile as he passed by, his face dropping immediately once he turned his back on them. He loved the attention of course, but there was only one set of eyes that Billy wanted on him. Eyes as blue as the ocean beneath the Santa Monica pier in July.

Nancy took in the warmth of the bright sun on her skin. Robin preferred to stay under the umbrella with Vickie, worried that the 50 spf wouldn’t be enough for her; despite her reassurances. Dustin was engaged in a battle of chicken, keeping himself steady on Steve’s shoulders. Making his best attempt to push Will off of Jonathan’s shoulders. Lucas and Mike were showing off in front of Max and El, the two girls focusing on each other rather than their idiot boyfriends. Erica and her friends were more than prepared to make fun of the older Sinclair sibling and his friend.

Chrissy’s nose was firmly in a copy of some trashy romance novel that Heather loaned her. A pretty predictable story, but one that she enjoyed nonetheless. In a small, shanty sea town, a faithful woman of god (who so happens to be a widow) crosses paths with a sexy pirate. He steals her, they go sailing, have sex, and that’s it. The words were enticing, the same could be said for the cover art as well. Muscular man with a tan, long flowing locks of golden, curly hair, eyes as blue as the sea, and he’s wearing a shirt that showed off more cleavage than the lady.

“So how are you liking it so far?” Heather asked, passing over a can of Tab to her.

“It’s good. Captain James is wooing Prudence in his quarters,” Chrissy answered back, eyes going back to the page.

“Ooh, you’re gonna love the next chapter. It’s so hot,” Heather purred, sliding a stick of gum into her mouth.

Chrissy wasn’t exactly a connoisseur of romantic smut, but her curiosity was definitely piqued in freshman year. During a slumber party, Heather shared her mother’s private reading collection and the girls all had a good laugh. Chrissy wasn’t sure what the flowery language meant, but she giggled as well. In sophomore year, she would find a private corner at the public library to read those stories; that is until Heather would offer one to get, in exchange for a little tutoring. As they studied for an upcoming science test, Heather noticed how distracted Chrissy appeared during a session. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Cunningham was crushing on Hargrove as he walked by. Heather, in good fun and genuine curiosity, had questions. Chrissy was easy to read: Cheeks glowing, heart thumping, and scowl that wouldn’t scare a rabbit. Heather swore to tell no one and she kept that promise.

Chrissy peaked over her heart shaped sunglasses at the tanned Adonis. She had an inkling that he was looking at her, despite wearing his aviators. She figured that maybe she wouldn’t register on his love radar, boy was she wrong. Billy wasn’t a stranger to certain members on the cheer team, little flings in between after school practice were commonplace. To his surprise, all she did was offer him a friendly greeting and nothing more. He sat behind her in geometry, staring at the gentle slope of her neck. The curled loop of her ponytail looked so pretty, often accessorized with a scrunchie or a bow. Her perfume smelled expensive, costing more than a six pack, a box of Camels, and gas combined. In the cafeteria their eyes met briefly before she went off with her friends. One of Hargrove’s fellow goons made the fatal mistake of jokingly stating that Billy had a crush on Chrissy. A threat and swift punch to the shoulder was enough to shut him up. Wounded pride aside, it was true; Billy did find her fascinating.

Getting paired up in class for a history project led to conversations, allowing for them to talk; even if it was surface level. They began to converse in the hallway and after school as well. People began to talk, Billy didn’t give a shit, but Chrissy did. He wasn’t sure why, but a part of his mind ordered him to keep her safe. If someone made an inappropriate remark at her, Billy was the first to know. If he noticed that she wasn’t in class, he would ask around. Max kept her distance between her step brother and the cheerleader. She figured it was going to be nothing more than another quick relationship that she would end up having to hear from her bedroom, again. Yet he seemed different around her. The last thing Max could do was bring it up. Still, she found it a little amusing that El didn’t understand what Mayfield meant by “happy screams” and why Chrissy wasn’t making any.

“Chrissy? Hello, earth to Chrissy?” Heather stated as she waved her hand in front of her friend’s face.

“Huh? What?”

She chuckled, “You were totally staring at Billy.”

“I was not,” Chrissy hissed back, her blush betraying her.

“Aww, look at you, you’re blushing.”

She crossed her arms, “No! I- I- I’m sunburned.”

Heather leaned back in her chair, expensive sunglasses perfectly perched upon her nose, “Uh-huh sure, whatever you say. I mean, it’s not like he’s been staring at you since you came in or anything.”

Was he? Chrissy wanted to check, but she didn’t want to be so obvious. She placed her own glasses back up, eyes lingering back to the beautiful man. Solar spectacles on, face on the residents having their fun. No one would ever know about the ocean eyes gazing at the strawberry blonde.

Chrissy inhaled slowly and made her way over to the pool. Fake it til you make it as the old saying goes. For Chrissy, her confidence always shined through whenever she cheered. Her feet and legs gracefully strolled over to the water. His eyes kept his sight on her, his mind taking in each and every step that she took. She dawned a two colored one piece swimsuit, purple and white adorned the fabric. She wondered if it was too revealing due to the revealing neckline and how the suit hugged her rear. Heather and Nancy insisted that she looked amazing, Vickie loved the colors, and Robin was speechless before giving her a compliment (well more of a ramble, but Chrissy still thanked her).

The water felt so welcoming along her skin, allowing her to feel so comfortable and so free. She always loved the water, be it rain, lakes, and whenever she took a bath. As a child, she used to pretend that she was a mermaid swimming far, far away into the endless depths. No more responsibilities, no more worries, and no more stress. She could be her own person with a strong, shining tail and locks as long as a kelp forest. If only this mermaid knew just how much the lonely sailor watched her. Billy slowly removed his sunglasses, admiring the incredible form and movement. Chrissy took to the water like a bird to the air, with ease and strength. Her vibrant eye makeup never washed away, strawberry blonde locks darkened to a warm amber hue. She was radiant, lively, and enchanting.

His job was to focus on everybody at the community pool, yet he simply could not look away. He could hear music playing loudly in his eardrums. The booming of drums, the slick plucking of a bass, the melodic riffing of a guitar, and the amorous lyrics from the vocalist all came together. In his eyes, Chrissy moved in slow motion to the tune of Foreigner’s “Hot Blooded.” As much as he loved Phoebe Cates in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, her presence was no longer lingering in his mind. Chrissy was the one to break the surface of the pool’s water, strutting towards him in a red hot bikini. Manicured fingers carefully unclipping her top from the front to reveal her small and pretty breasts. His whistle seductively brushed along his upper lip and tongue, blowing out a loud tweet. The loudness of reality returned, but he kept his eyes on her. Chrissy used the ladder and was pleased to see him walking over.

“Looking good out there, Chrissy,” Billy stated, unable to keep back his smile.

She couldn’t resist smiling as well, “Thank you.”

He offered her a towel, their hands touched for a moment, “Perfect form.”

She felt the pleasant spark, eyes drifting along his sculpted body before she met his eyes, “Well… your form is amazing.”

Oh god, did she really say that to him? She really said that to him. His smile grew, letting out a mischievous chuckle.

She felt the little twinge of embarrassment, “I’m sorry. I’ve seen you… teaching lessons. Swimming lessons.”

Chrissy looked away briefly, asking for the concrete below her to melt beneath her feet. Maybe getting buried in a rock solid hole would be less painful than this. Yet he was still here, more than ready to engage. She hoped that perhaps he could smooth out the wince inducing matter.

Billy’s toothy grin dropped from humorous to a heart palpitating smirk, “You know, I could uh… I could teach you, if you like.”

Did she hear that right? Or did she imagine those words? He fluttered his long, lovely eyelashes when he spoke. Chrissy stood there with her mouth slightly agape.

“Oh?”

He continued, grin still evident, “I know all the styles. Freestyle.” He took a step closer, his expression neutral; enjoying the way she obediently nodded her head and clutched her towel. “Butterfly.”

Chrissy could hear her heart racing many miles a second. Her brain begged her not to say something stupid again. She could feel her body heat rising. She swore that she could also sense the warm sensation of his body as well, despite the short distance between them. Chrissy was so lost in his eyes that she didn’t notice the fresh stick of gum that he unwrapped and fished from his pocket. Gazing at the thick fingers gently holding the treat beneath his lips.

There it was, that smile, that gorgeously handsome smile, “Breaststroke.”

Chrissy did not blink, fingers loosening up as the air from her lungs momentarily vanished. The sound of her towel plummeting to the hard surface brought her back. She bent down to grab it, finding herself looking at Billy’s face when he helped her; his hand brushing hers once again.

“You okay?” He asked, sounding a little concerned and a bit smug.

She wrapped the towel around her waist, trying to hide her shyness with a friendly disposition, “I didn’t think you- I didn’t think you taught other age groups.”

Billy smacked his lips while he chewed, his breath minty fresh, “Well I offer more uh… advanced lessons to select clientele.”

He looked her directly in her gleaming eyes, he could see her demeanor change. Any time they spoke, even if it was just for a few minutes, Chrissy noticed how she felt a little light headed. Being in such close proximity made her lower half pulsate, a feeling that would continue to plague her long after they spoke.

His voice became as soft as the wind, Pacific blue eyes drilling into her soul, “Come to think of it, there is a good pool out at a Motel 6 on Cornwallis. It’s very quiet. You know, very private. Shall we say tonight? Eight o’clock?”

Chrissy’s brain reminded her to breathe, her ears focusing on the sound of his deep, gentle tone amidst the noise of summer fun. She could feel her head nodding, having to stop herself when she gave him a sympathetic smile, “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

He sounded heartbroken, it was all an act of course, one that made her laugh, “Can’t what? Have fun? Chrissy Cunningham.”

She felt so weird in this unusual predicament, yet she couldn’t help but enjoy this extra attention that he was giving her. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Billy to flirt with others, but she couldn’t imagine herself being with him romantically; and yet her mind did wander to that possibility.

Chrissy ran her nails through her soaked locks, doing her best to calm down her racing heart beat, letting out another chuckle, “No. I… I… I just, uh… I don't think I need any lessons.”

How strange. Her voice sounded different. Breathy and just a little seductive. Billy liked that, he really liked it.

He was closer to her, truly towering over Chrissy, “Oh, you see, I think you do. I just don’t think that you’ve had the right teacher.”

She gulped, this was really happening, “I, uh-”

The smug bastard showed off his best smirk, his voice was like caramel, rich and smooth, “It will be the workout of your life.”

Chrissy wondered if it was possible for a human heart to thrust back and forth through one’s chest the way a cartoon character’s heart does. His wolfish demeanor should have disgusted her, but she couldn’t lie to herself, she was enjoying this. Yet she could sense the judgemental eyes of everyone around her. As if she were bare before all of Hawkins, a sensation that haunted her in life and in her dreams.

Chrissy gasped when she felt Heather’s grasp on her arm, “Hey Billy, don’t you have some cougars to flirt with?”

He rolled his eyes, “Speaking of cougars, how’s your mom doing?”

Heather scowled at him, “You’re such a prick.”

“Well, I’d like to stay and chat, but I have a job to do. See you later, Chrissy,” Billy stated before heading back to his station.

Chrissy covered herself with the towel, “Thanks Heather.”

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, “Yes, I’m fine. Just um… I don’t know… kinda weird right now.”

[ladamedusoif]

Christmas Tree (Professor!Ben x OFC!Lydia)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 22

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boys Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

Follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to keep up to date with my fics!

Pairing: Professor!Ben (Mr Ben AU) x OFC!Lydia 

Word count: 908

Rating: Mature; 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Allusions to smut; mild swearing; established relationship; references to Christmas but secular.

A/N: A little imagine from the Visiting universe - this isn’t a flash forward, because Visiting is as-yet unfinished and still seeking a resolution, but I wanted to write for these two in a Christmas setting again. (And I couldn't resist that gif from The Bishop's Wife!)

MDNI banner by @cafekitsune

You draw the living room curtains and step back to survey your handiwork. Your first Christmas tree together, and you’d wanted it to be just right. 

Ben stands in the middle of the doors that divide the living room from the dining room and kitchen, oohing and aahing at the tall tree shining with hundreds of tiny lights that reflect off the many baubles you’ve hung from its branches.

“Hit the lights, baby,” you ask, “you can’t really see if the lights look right unless you have darkness.”

He does as he’s bid, and the living room is illuminated only by the cosy glow of the stove in the fireplace and the warm white of the Christmas tree. You screw up your eyes to assess the overall effect, using a trick your grandfather had taught you years before. 

“You think it’s okay, Ben?” You turn to face him, smiling at the way the gentle light of the tree picks out his handsome features and the twinkle in his eyes as he takes it in. 

“It’s…perfect. You are so talented, Lyddie.”

You beam at his praise. “It’s just a case of working out where everything needs to go. And we can add to the baubles over time - I know most of these are from my original collection, but soon there’ll be ones that are ours, with our memories attached to them.”

There’s no response. You turn back to see if he’s still there, and notice that he’s fiddling with the stereo system in the dining room, carefully placing a record on the turntable and setting the stylus to the right track.

The intro begins, and Ben spins to face you with a mischievous look on his face. He starts to dance in your direction as the familiar opening of the song plays from the speakers.

“Baby, what is going on?”

He wraps an arm around your waist and takes your hand, pulling you to him and leading you into the rhythm of the song. As the vocal begins, Ben joins in, mimicking Bruce Springsteen’s New Jersey rasp:

“Merry Christmas, baby

You sure did treat me nice

Merry Christmas, baby

You sure did treat me niiiiice

I feel just like I’m liviiin’

Livin’ in para- shit, Lyd, I can’t sustain that, sorry.”

You throw your head back and laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying your hips in time to the music. “Just dance with me, darling man.”

Ben’s coffee-brown eyes shine, cheeks flushing a little. He brings his hands to your hips and moves with you, his body flush against yours. He can’t help join in again, in his usual voice, for the bridge:

“Santa came down the chimney

Half past three

With lots of nice little presents for

Lyddie and me”

You both giggle as he reaches again for your hands, twirling you around and under his arm before bringing you back into hold. He looks so beautiful in the soft light from the tree and the fire: like pure comfort and love distilled in human form. You can’t help but nuzzle in to his chest as the song enters the final bridge and chorus.

“How’d you get to be so good at dancing, Ben?”

He kisses your hair and you can hear him smile. “My parents. They always used to dance together in the house during the holidays, they’d go dancing at weekends sometimes - it was their thing.” You feel him pull you a little closer. “My dad had moves. And when I was a little kid, I asked him to teach me.”

You chuckle, humming happily against his broad chest, clad in a soft, dark blue plaid flannel shirt. “So you’ve been working on your moves since you were a little kid?”

He laughs in agreement. “Kinda. I think I just looked at them and thought I’d like to have that, someday. Someone to dance with you, no matter if it’s just at home.” He pulls away slightly and looks at you. “I dunno, it just seemed so…loving.”

As the E Street Band plays the final bars of the song, you lean in and caress Ben’s handsome face before kissing him. “It was loving. It is loving.” You can’t help but run your hands over his back and down to the waistband of his jeans, hooking your fingers against the denim so you can bring him tight to your body and walk him over to the couch.

His lips find yours again as you lie back on the sofa, Ben’s warm body between your legs and your fingers working to unbutton his shirt as he slips his hands under your oversized denim shirt and reaches for your breasts, pulling a whine of pleasure from you. You move one of his big hands to the waistband of your leggings, encouraging him to tug them down as you fumble to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.

He pauses for a moment to take you in: the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, without question. If he said this now you’d roll your eyes and brush it off, pointing to your bare face and wrinkles and wobbles and greys and the slightly schlubby clothes you’re wearing for putting up the tree - but here, now, about to make love and with the lights from the Christmas tree sparkling in your eyes so full of love and affection, he thinks you might just be at your most beautiful.

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

All was cal-

No, wait. A disturbance in the water.

There was a thunk as the oar collided with the sand. The boat swayed unsteadily in the water for a few seconds before it popped into an inventory.

An inventory belonging to the intruder who gingerly stepped over the cherry bushes that lined the island border, before trudging into the muddy puddle below the oversized wooden heart. He sucked in the cold air through his teeth and looked up the ladder.

“Come on in” was the verdict that boomed from above.

He steadily ascended and reached the top, an uneven wooden platform that went up on both sides, cast in shadow by a cherry leaf curtain.

Ooh, I shouldn’t have come here at night, it’s chilly, Jimmy thought. He looked up at the three men that were stood at seemingly random spots.

There was a pause, thick with tension and-

“Why’s he staring at us and not saying anything?” Skizz whispered to Tango.

“Shh!’ Tango shushed him. “We’re a cool, unbothered mafia group, remember? Stop ruining our image!” He raised his voice said menacingly, “What do you want, mortal?”

“We’re mortals too, you know,” Bigb mumbled, but no one seemed to be listening.

“Also, ‘’mortal’ is more of a god thing than mafia thing, Tango,” Skizz advised. “It ain’t Decked Out.”

Jimmy tried to ignored them and reached into his inventory, clutching a cold, hard diamond. “Keep it down. One of these, and maybe place a few extra in the dropper, eh? If you know what I mean.”

Skizz came forward and took the diamond. “Consider it done. Say nothing about this.”

“Or you might end up on the… Naughty List,” Tango called from his perch above.

“Tango! That just makes you sound like Santa Claus!” Bigb hissed. “You’re one to talk about being, oh, so cool, and suave, ooh, look at me, I’m wearing, you know, slick sunglasses-”

“At least I’m trying!” Tango snapped back, “You’re just sitting there being silent and weird.”

“What? It’s threatening! It’s about the suspense-”

Skizz cleared his throat. “You heard him. Don’t anger the Foundation, or you’ll be off the dropper. Right?”

“Got it. Got it,” Jimmy said hastily, and threw in an extra diamond for good measure. “I’ll be off.”

He left.

Skizz turned to the other two.

“What, and we’re not even going to rig the dropper?” Bigb said, not looking up.

“Who’s gonna know?” Tango grinned, and shrugged. “It’s free diamonds. It’s dirty money. We already have the server in our hands. They’re all giving up this precious stuff just for a chance to gain those three bloody hearts.”

“Hey, no swearing,” Skizz said.

“Bloody as in, the colour of blood. Red. Okay, maybe a bit brighter. It’s a metaphor, Skizz! My point still stands.”

“It’s true, they won’t even dare to touch us ‘cos they’ll be off the list.” Bigb said.

“I do know that,” Skizz smirked, or whatever his idea of a smirk was anyway. “And I plan on using that to our full advantage. MuahahahaaAAAhh-!”

“He’s choking, man!” Bigb said in panic, “Tango, help!”

Tango rushed forward. “Heimlich Manoeuvre, Heimlich! First step, okay, are you choking?”

Skizz stopped, straightened up, and groaned. “No thanks, Tango. Aw, being evil isn’t good on my throat. I think I’ll stick to being wholesome.”

Pause.

Imagine a camera zooming out on the sun setting over a tranquil ocean, as the boys settle down for a good night’s sleep.

Okay, now all was calm.

[bangrychannie]

hello! I saw you share some skz fanfic recs a while ago, I was wondering if you have some recs that are pure fluff without any or very very little angst? some crack is fine too; and I don't care about what relationship it is

thank you for the recs you already shared <33

Hello! Here are some mostly angst free skz fic recs! Theres 5 here but if you want more lmk haha

Hyunjin’s Perfect Date (that will make any boy immediately fall in love with him forever)™️ by megaversenumber1fan (Seungjin | 1/1 | 4,298 | teen and up)

Hyunjin gives Hinge a try and meets Seungmin, who says he has never gone on a date that he didn't plan. Hyunjin decides to plan the perfect first date.

--

“The date went completely wrong, but I ended up falling for you anyway”

Crack fic where Hyunjin tries to plan a perfect date and everything goes wrong. Super short and sweet!

cheap shot by dawnshine (Minsung | 1/1 | 9,093 | Teen and Up)

cheap shot: a critical statement that takes unfair advantage of a known weakness of the target.

or: Five times Jisung said "ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad," and the one time Minho did.

Dawnshine is a fantastic author so if you like this there’s a lot more awesome stories! Another short and sweet one that made me laugh out loud

a pumpkin for your thoughts by dawnshine (Minsung | 1/1 | 10,203 | Teen and Up)

Jisung meets a cute employee during his annual trip to the pumpkin patch with his niece. Suddenly his traditional one-time visit has turned into two. Then three. Then six.

...And so many more that he loses count, pumpkins piling up uselessly in his home and his budding crush quickly worming his way into his heart. umpkins piling up uselessly in his home and his budding crush quickly worming his way into his heart.

Anotha one by dawnshine lolll super cute fall vibes

until we find the home page by glissandos (Minsung | 1/1 | 11,797 | Teen and Up)

A man just crawled out of his fireplace, and he is definitely not Santa.

He is, however, claiming to be a character—a handsome prince—from a fantasy novel that Jisung just finished reading. And he is also apparently here to break Jisung’s curse. (Hold up. Curse?)

This one is a fantasy AU so it’s a bit different than the other ones but still super cute!

love, friendship, and other complications by flying_dream (BinSung | 1/1 | 18,363 | Teen and Up)

Jisung has never had a date for Valentine's Day. Never. Never. Naturally, as his best friend and number #1 bro, Changbin steps up to the plate and volunteers as tribute.

Yeah, this is definitely going to be one for the books.

I love idiots in love so much

Yeah upon looking through my bookmarks I had a lot more fluffy ones than I thought, so lmk if you want more! Also sorry if the formatting is horrific I’m on mobile 🤣

[britany1997]

Paul and Fishy

(Read about Paul and Fishy’s backstory here) (This one’s pretty silly y’all)

Paul stared at the ceiling as he laid on the couch in the cave, frustrated. How many times had he seen Dwayne take his dog with him to the dog park, or Marko fly around with his parrot? He even caught David napping with his cat once!

Paul wanted to be able to do fun things with his pet, but there was only so much you could do with a goldfish. He sighed. “I could take you to the boardwalk?” Fishy blinked. “You’re right, there’re too many stands with goldfish, I wouldn’t want you to get taken.” He thought about it some more. “Ooh! I could take you for a ride on my motorcycle?” Fishy wiggled his fin “No no you’re right, motorcycles and glass bowls don’t mix, that’s an accident waiting to happen.” Paul groaned and starred at fishy. “Don’t look at me like that, I want to be able to go on adventures with you too! But I would never risk you getting hurt.” He laid back on the couch and rubbed his forehead, desperately trying to think of something.

Later that night, Paul strutted around the board walk looking for someone something to eat. As he was walking he passed a flyer that caught his eye. The Sky-view drive in was showing Finding Nemo that weekend! It was perfect! Finally something he and Fishy could do together. Now the only issue was figuring out how to get there. Paul knew he couldn’t take his bike to the drive-in, and even if he could, he knew Fishy would be way to exposed strapped to the back of his motorcycle. Paul sighed as he starred at the flyer, there was one thing he could do, but the boys wouldn’t be too happy about it. Paul inhaled sharply, his mind made up. Fishy was worth the trouble.

Friday night rolled around and Paul put his plan into action. The boys were distracted after luring a sweet looking blonde girl into the cave. Paul had told them he wasn’t hungry, he figured he could eat at the theater. While David was giving his spiel about the sunken hotel, Paul snuck out with Fishy in his bowl, a drill, and a screwdriver in his arms.

He wandered around the bushes surrounding the cave until he found it, damaged from the rain and looking much worse for wear than that last time he’d seen it, but there it was. The boy’s convertible they had lifted from a stock market trader visiting Santa Carla some years ago. Dwayne had insisted they drain the guy, something about ‘eating the rich’? The had caught him in the parking lot, and they figured why not take the car too?

They didn’t use it much anymore, preferring to take their bikes instead, but David had made it veryyy clear after, what the boys referred to as, “the great crash of ‘96,” that Paul was never allowed to even look at the car, much less drive it. Paul knew he had to act fast, so he placed fishy’s bowl in the passenger seat gently before buckling him in. Then he took the drill and drilled into the keyhole a little, looking back over his shoulder as he did so, making sure the boys hadn’t heard. He removed the drill and waited for screams to come from the cave. As soon as they did, he jammed his screwdriver into the keyhole, turning it clockwise and starting the engine. He smiled and looked over at Fishy, “Let’s roll bud!” he said before zipping off.

Paul drove slowly (for him) the entire way to the drive-in. He pulled into a spot and parked, turning off the car and switching to the radio station with the movie’s audio. He unbuckled Fishy’s bowl and placed it in his lap. “Can you see bud?” Paul asked him. Fishy let out three bubbles. “Ok great,” Paul said smiling. He relaxed into the car seat as the movie began. Finally, he was getting to do something special with his pet too.

Paul came back to the cave with a smile on his face and Fishy in tow. The boys all whipped around to see him come in, “Damn it Paul, did you take the car again?” David asked him with his hands on his hips, “you know you’re not allowed to do that any more after last time!” “Relax bud! I was driving slow the whole time! I had precious cargo!” Paul replied while holding up Fishy’s bowl. The goldfish blinked for emphasis. David sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. But don’t do it again or you’ll find yourself sleeping outside during the day.” Marko rolled his eyes at David’s dramatics. “We were just worried about you man, glad you’re ok.” Paul smiled, “I wouldn’t do anything crazy,” he said as he hugged Fishy’s bowl, “just wanted to spend some time with my favorite fish.” The boys watched him and smiled softly.

Hey,” Paul asked, “do you guys know how long goldfish live?” Before Marko or David could respond, Dwayne said “Forever Paul, goldfish are immortal like us, they live forever.” Paul smiled, “perfect” he said before walking off to his corner of the cave. “You know you’re going to be spending your eternity replacing that fish right?” David asked. Dwayne sighed, “I know,” he said, “but it’s worth the trouble to see him that happy.”

Taglist:

@altierirose @ghoulgeousimmaculate

[misslavenderlady]

i was wondering if maybe you could write a lesbian!reader being like besties w the boys and just getting up to random shit

Little Sister 🏳️‍🌈

The Lost Boys & Female!Reader (She/Her Pronouns)

Summary: Being the best friend to the one and only Lost Boys means that the fun never ends. Tonight is no exception, and something special might happen!

Thank you anon for the request! I appreciate your patience and I hope you enjoy this!

You adored your friends more than anything in the world. The Lost Boys treated you like one of their own since the day you met them. They were affectionate, fun, and took you on plenty of adventures. It was just an instant connection with the vampire boys. It was almost like having four brothers to look after you.  

While you weren’t a vampire yet, you were having plenty of good times as an honorary Lost Girl until you were ready to take the leap of faith as a creature of the night. Between going to bars, riding all the rides on the boardwalk, and causing some trouble on the streets of Santa Carla, there was never a dull moment.  

Tonight was no exception. After a good few weeks of begging David to get a tv set up in the cave, the leader of the gang finally gave in to your request. To make you extra happy, he even decided to take you and the others to their Sire’s video store in order to start building a collection of videotapes to enjoy for future movie nights. 

“You’re lucky I’m the most charitable one of the gang, hun,” David teased as you browsed through the selections.  

“Does that mean you’ll also throw in my own special chair too? I’m tired of using that busted-up couch all the time,” you asked.  

David opened his mouth to protest, no doubt to fight the idea of spoiling his little sister. To his annoyance, Paul and Marko jumped in too, jutting out their lips in pouts and widening their eyes to make them appear as sweet and innocent as possible.  

“Pweeeeeease, David?” Paul pleaded. 

“Let’s get a whole living room set! Pretty please!!” Marko added on to the begging.  

David remembered how once upon a time he was concerned about the terror twins overwhelming you. Little did he know that you would work a little too well with them, leading to the name changing to “the terror triplets”. It was a good thing he loved all of you so much.  

“Let’s get our movies first and then we’ll talk about re-decorating,” Dwayne chimed in, saving David from your mischievous behavior. You shot him a smile as he reached out a hand to ruffle up your hair.  

The five of you continued your adventure through the store. You had to hand it to Max. Even for a total dork who was a shitty excuse for a father figure, he had great taste in the stuff he sold. Figures that after being around for so long, he’d easily figure out what kind of stuff people would want to buy.  

Your eyes wandered to the horror section. The idea of picking a monster movie to watch with your vampire brothers was quite amusing. What made it more ironic was that the tape that caught your eye first was a vampire movie. The Vampire Lovers from 1970. ‘Taste the deadly passion of the blood nymphs,’ the tagline enticed you. It really intrigued you.  

“Ooh! I highly recommend that one! It’s one of my favorites!” a feminine voice spoke up behind you. Curious, you turned around to see who was there.  

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you were delightfully surprised to see an absolutely stunning woman standing across the aisle from you. She had bouncy curls, glowing skin, and the most dazzling brown eyes you had ever seen. Looking at her reminded you of the warm, fuzzy feelings you got whenever you watched the sunset across the ocean.  

Not wanting to stand there and gawk like an idiot, you pushed yourself to find some proper words.  

“O-Oh!! What’s it about?” you asked. The title of the film should have been an obvious clue, but your brain was malfunctioning around this pretty lady. Thankfully, she wasn’t put off by your question. In fact, her smile widened.  

“Well, I can’t spoil it, but there are beautiful women getting up to spooky stuff. So there’s plenty to enjoy.” 

You felt a warm sensation flood through your cheeks. She was such a pretty lady, and you were charmed by her with every moment you spent with her. It made you eager to talk more with her. Get to know her a little better and compare the monster movies you adored most.  

It was such a pleasant conversation that had you completely focused that you hadn’t even noticed the boys sneak up behind you.  

“Yo! Maria! Ya tryin’ to steal our baby sister?” Marko said playfully. He and Paul threw an arm around your shoulders, sandwiching you in between them.  

God, you couldn’t believe their terrible timing. The two of you were hitting it off and now they were going to start embarrassing you in front of the cute girl. If you hadn’t learned her name from his comment, you would have slugged the curly-haired vamp.  

“I dunno, Maria, you can do better than her. She snores so loud it wakes the dead!” Paul snickered.  

You were not going to put up with their nonsense anymore. With an exasperated groan, you called out for the others to come to your rescue and get the two dorks off of you. Maria giggled in amusement as David and Dwayne came to drag them off back to the action movie section.  

“I am so sorry about them. I swear, I can’t take them anywhere.” 

“Aww it’s all good,” Maria assured you. “If you really want, we can talk a bit more about movies some other time. Maybe....over dinner sometime?” 

It was a miracle your jaw didn’t drop to the ground. Your heart was racing in your chest, the excitement of going on a date with Maria making your blood rush. You had to remember to keep it cool as you agreed to such a nice idea.  

The two of you traded numbers, briefly discussing when you could call and make more plans for whenever you would meet up. You even promised to give the vampire movie a watch so that you could talk about your favorite parts with her. That certainly made her excited. With a wave of her fingers and a bat of her eyelashes, Maria bid you farewell.  

So, there you were. Standing in the horror movie section of the video store, holding the phone number of a gorgeous lady who wanted to go out with you. You could practically hear the Halleluiah chorus going off in your head.  

“Ooooh, someone’s got a girlfriend~”  

In an instant, you snapped out of your rose-tinted haze. Your four boys had returned to pester you, all of them wearing the sneakiest grins you had ever seen.  

“Aww, you’re not gonna forget about us, are ya?” Dwayne cooed, nudging you gently. The boys all burst into a fit of giggles while your face flushed a deep shade of red in embarrassment. 

“Oh, shut up,” you said. “Don’t be jealous because I get pretty girls and you don’t.” 

While they all howled at how feisty you were, you would pay them no mind. It was all good fun, and you were just so excited for whenever you got to see Maria again. You were truly going to enjoy being with her.  

Tag List: @silvermaplealder @michael-after-hours @legal-lost-boy@britany1997 @riz-coolgirl @crustyraccoon @ghoulgeousimmaculate @kurt-nightcrawler @auntvamp @sunshine-wylan @thelostsouls1987 @pixielostboy @thornthehellhound @solobagginses @6lostgirl6 @american-idiot-jpg @bloodywickedvamp @solobagginses @juss-soupp @anxiouslittleweirdkid @vampirefilmlover

[gloomykame]

TMNT HEAD-CANNONS/MINI SCENARIOS: Mistletoe Kiss

Not exactly sure what to label this… But here it is

This is the first year the guys have an s/o for the cozy season, how will they fair?

WARNING: Slightly NSFW themes, suggestive (nothing too crazy people, but maybe in the future…?)

Minors DNI

Leo

Probably already training away Christmas morning, “evil doesn’t take holidays, so neither can I”

Never been one to sit down and celebrate, always moving

After waiting for him throughout the day, he’s still tucked himself away in the dojo

After nightfall, you go to his place of refuge

Though he gave the team the day off, he won’t allow himself the luxury

“Saved you milk and cookies,” you offer

Though the sentiment is cheesy, you still figured no one deserved to be alone during the holidays

His only response is a half-mustered grunt as he continues to over-exert himself.

As he rounds off a flip, you step into his path — halting him, as he skids to a stop before nearly crushing you

The slight fear in that moment seems to bring him back to reality

“Y/N-” he starts

“Come on Blue,” you whisper, featherlight — ever patient with the leader

Gently placing your hand in his, you lead him past the threshold of the dojo to a rather conveniently placed of greenery

Pointing up, the edge of his lips quirks upwards

“Why do I get the feeling I’ve been tricked?” He mutters, capturing your lips with his.

Immediately, he felt like kicking himself for not spending more time with you today

It had simply gotten away from him, and part of him still couldn’t believe he’s the one you wanted to spend it with

Lifting you up, you squealed as your legs wrapped around his waist

“How can I make this up to you?” His voice taking on a dangerous edge

“I have a few ideas…” you teased

Raph

Definitely the Scrooge of the bunch

Whereas Leo is just busy, this man HATES the holidays — perhaps because Mikey pesters him to put on reindeer antlers or dress up as Santa

Oddly enough, has a soft spot for eggnog — usually hammered by around noon

With you here this year, he eases up on the drinking — though he does steal a glass or two

Begrudgingly puts on the red scarf you’ve crocheted him, won’t admit that he’s fond of it’s softness

“Raphie~” you call as the evening winds down

This boy has been avoiding any of the green stuff all morning

He loves you more than anything, but will beat Mikey to a pulp if he so much as hears a teasing “ooh”

But the moment he sees you on his bed, he can’t really complain

The two of you enter a rather passionate lip lock, his hands eagerly wandering

As he pulls away, his emerald orbs catch a green blur you try to hide behind your back

“Y/N…” he says, voice gravelly and low

After wrestling for a moment or two, he plucks the greenery from your hands — heaving a sigh

He’d unknowingly succumbed to a tradition he’d hated

Until now at least

Now, he just wanted one thing

“Maybe this holiday isn’t so bad after all…” he grumbled, capturing your lips once again

Donnie

Knows everything about the holiday, down to the origination of the ancient prophet

Unsure how that has translated to the modern day man that supposedly makes an impossible trip around the world

Simply knows you have a love for the time of year

No trouble cuddling up with you by the electric fireplace in his lab (after all, he installed it just for you)

“I know I said no more gifts…” you began shyly

“Y/N…” he scolds, admittedly you like when his voice gets a little rougher like that

Even if it’s just because he’d prefer to pamper you, instead of vice-versa

Producing a small box from your bag, he takes it hesitantly

He chuckles when he sees it’s contents

“Oh, dove…” he whispers affectionately, lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. “I hope you know this silly trinket is wholly unnecessary.”

A small smile pulls at your lips

“You know what I want for Christmas?”

Though he’s the resident genius, he only blinks — wondering what you’d possibly be asking for on such short notice

He’d already given you all your gifts, so the timing was rather unfortunate

Straddling his waist, your face quickly became hot as you placed tentative kisses on his lips — trailing to his neck

He leaned his head back to allow you better access

“Is this ok…?” Your voice felt far too small, fingers twiddling with his waistband

“This is perfect,” he assured you

Mikey

Has seen more than enough Hallmark movies

Basically prepared his whole life for this

Has been looking upwards most of the day in hopes to catch you under some for a sweet moment

Refuses to kiss you until then, he wants to save it to give you the “perfect Christmas”

Truth be told, you were a hopeless romantic yourself

You wanted his first Christmas together to be just as special

You drew a bubble bath for you and your terrapin

“Mikey, can you come here for a second?”

“Yeah, what do you need Angelca-“

Stops in his tracks when he sees you in an adorable silk robe just through the doorway of the bathroom, a certain little plant dangling above

Finally

Is on you in less than a second, kicking the door closed

“Best. Christmas. Ever.”

If you’d like not to be tagged in the future, please let me know

@turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch

[squeakintothevoid]

Bohemian Rhapsody hits different after you go through an existential identity crisis.

I wanna explain what I think of when I listen to this song. (TW: religious trauma, cptsd, and an overabundance of gifs)

"If you can see it there, darling, then it's there."

-Freddie Mercury

This song is an epic hero's journey of a song that deserves to be overrated. 11/10. Freddie is an artistic genius.

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide No escape from reality

So when you grow up in a traumatic situation (I was raised mormon and have complex PTSD) you live in a detached way and learn to never trust yourself. You inevitably get some doubts in the back of your mind about how great and perfect the situation you're raised in actually is, but you don't dare confront these thoughts because that would risk crumbling your sense of security.

But real life comes through and crumbles your foundation anyway like a landslide. You get doubts upon doubts. Oh crap, reality is scary! Santa isn't real! Mormonism sounds a lot like a cult! And I think everyone can relate to realizing that their parents and adults in general are just grown-up kids.

Open your eyes Look up to the skies and see I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy Because I'm easy come, easy go Little high, little low Any way the wind blows Doesn't really matter to me, to me

So you've realized that your security is not a guarantee in life. Now all you can really do is appeal to whatever holds power over you, be it god, your parents, the skies.

"Don't worry guys, I'm no trouble. I'll be good. My feelings don't matter. I'm good with anything you want."

You end up convinced that the people pleasing mask is who you really are. And in this state of being detached from your actual self, you become less capable of feeling much, high or low.

Mama, just killed a man Put a gun against his head Pulled my trigger, now he's dead Mama, life had just begun But now I've gone and thrown it all away Mama, ooh Didn't mean to make you cry If I'm not back again this time tomorrow Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters

But at some point your soul just can't take it anymore, it's been pushed to it's limit. The mask slips, the shelf breaks, the walls come down. You start to realize that your own thoughts and opinions might actually be important. You begin to accept the truth. And when you realize you can no longer be this version of you they want you to be, well, it feels like you've died.

Because your whole identity was built on something that wasn't real. Your world's been turned upside down and now you're terrified of disappointing all those people who you've been so desperately trying to please this whole time. Despite everything, a part of you may even care for them and hope their worldview doesn't get shattered for their own sake. Let them carry on with their ways.

Too late, my time has come Sends shivers down my spine Body's aching all the time Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth Mama, ooh (Any way the wind blows) I don't wanna die I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

Freddie writes like he's walking to his own execution. I felt a similar way when I was taking my last flight out of BYU as a fresh nonbeliever to see my mormon family. My anxiety must've thought I was escaping North Korea or something. Because I really didn't know if I was about to lose everything or not. And that last line was way too relatable, which scared me. I actually avoided this song for years because of it.

I also got physically sick several times that last year at BYU from living the double life. Definitely ached all the time, and still do. The body really does keep the score.

I still remember how I felt when I finally faced the truth by reading the CES letter, subconsciously hoping it would shatter my testimony of the LDS church. It felt like walking straight into hell. Which brings us to...

I see a little silhouetto of a man Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango? Thunderbolt and lightning very, very frightening me (Galileo) Galileo (Galileo) Galileo Galileo Figaro Magnifico-o-o-o-o

...my SPOOKY MORMON HELL DREAM!

Time to feel guilt like no other! Because part of you still isn't entirely convinced you aren't going to hell! Or at least end up homeless from being kicked out and disowned.

So I see this part of the song as demons taunting you. The demons being your own self-hatred and the subliminal or even direct messaging you got from your authority figures. If I were to transcribe what I hear in these lyrics...

Hey look, a shell of a person!

Keep dancing for me, little bitch! (Scaramouche)

I am so scared of getting punished and hurt!

Ha, loser! You little heretic! (Galileo) You think you're so clever (Figaro) and important (Magnifico)!

So the Galileo, Figaro, Magnifico part is name-calling. Which you fall for because you're sense of self only just sprouted out of the sidewalk that is your mind.

I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me

Still not used to being confident, you attempt to defend yourself, but you're kinda just wallowing in self-pity.

"I swear I don't think I'm better than anyone! I just want to do my own thing! I don't hate the mormon church, I just disagree with it! And you're definitely not the reason I'm in therapy, mom & dad, but I totally understand why you asked! (Aw man, I can't trust my parents at all! I'm hopeless!)"

Wow, real confident.

He's just a poor boy from a poor family Spare him his life from this monstrosity

But the deeper, more real, compassionate, and self-confident part of you knows the truth. It says, okay sure, you are a poor kid. But does any other poor kid deserve to be treated like this? No! Stand up for that kid!

You have to treat this self-assured part of yourself almost as a different sort of being because you don't trust yourself so much. It's not you asserting yourself because that would be selfish of course! So instead, it's god or a little voice or a call that is directing you to be confident. Or it's you being confident but for the sake of a little kid in your exact situation.

Easy come, easy go, will you let me go? Bismillah! No, we will not let you go (Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go (Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go (Let me go!) Will not let you go (Let me go!) Never let you go (Never, never, never, never let me go) Oh oh oh oh No, no, no, no, no, no, no

Because you're not self-assured yet, the self-doubting & self-loathing parts of you war against the self-confident parts that know what's right for you. So you feel like you're doing mental gymnastics. What's wrong and right anymore? Is it really okay to drink coffee? Is it okay to throw out spoiled milk? Do I deserve a raincoat? Might my parents actually be...not gods?

Notice that the high-pitched angel-like voices that were standing up for him transform into his own voice. "Let him go" becomes "let ME go." It's like those parts are integrating into a whole and you're realizing you genuinely think you deserve better.

Oh, mamma mia, mamma mia (Mamma mia, let me go) Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me

You want your parents (mamma mia!) or whoever is holding power over you to just change and accept you so you don't have to stand up to them. But that ain't necessarily happening. You cannot control them. You can't control anything but you. Not having control is scary! You can lose everything!

But with everything lost, you're the only thing left. Just you. But you can still think for yourself, control yourself. For the first time in this search of who you're supposed to be, you realize that you were there all along. And that feels powerful. You might even wanna stand up for yourself.

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye? So you think you can love me and leave me to die? Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

Cue permission to be ANGRY. You aren't being fooled anymore, you see what they've done to you. And now that you actually see yourself as valuable, you're not gonna take that shit anymore. "Yes dad, I am an exmormon. Yes, that does convey a sense of animosity. I did buy new shoes for myself so that I don't hurt my feet. And I like drinking tea and watching R-rated movies." I'm such a rebel.

Ooh, ooh yeah, ooh yeah Nothing really matters Anyone can see Nothing really matters Nothing really matters to me Any way the wind blows

Before, nothing mattered to you because you were only shown how to be a doormat. Now, nothing matters to you because you're only doing what you want now, nobody else's opinions really matter. I know what's important now, so life can come at me bro. I'm not what other people think of me, my talents, my failures, my achievements, nada. I'm just me and I'm gonna do whatever and quit worrying about being worthy all the time. You do you. Leave me to me. Any way the wind blows.

Of course, trauma means you fall back into the same patterns a lot and keep having to remember your worth, so life's not all wrapped up with a bow now. But, once you realize your opinions and feelings matter, it's hard to put the toothpaste back in the tube. There is nothing that can convince me to run back to the Mormons. But I do keep finding time and time again more ways in which I still don't fully trust myself. It's hard feeling like I'm going in circles finding shortcomings I didn't even know were there, but I feel like I'm spiraling up now.

So that's my exmormon/cptsd-fueled interpretation of Bohemian Rhapsody. It really is such a great song with so many interpretations. Some songs you remember the first time hearing it and even fewer songs get even better as you go back to it, you know? Anyway, thanks for reading and tolerating the gifs!